After she was interrupted, Syiana decided to channel her anger away silently and not do anything more for the man's sake. Even though demon encounters were still rare, having only one or two cases in every ten or twenty years, not knowing that demons exist could prove to be potentially fatal. But since he was so stubborn about not recognising those facts, it would be his own funeral if he ever had the chance to meet one alone.

But when she calmed down considerably, she realised that the female elf and her companion mentioned some very strange things. They spent all their lives fighting of demons? If that was the case, that would mean that they were Border Guards, and that their current location was somewhere near El'Briven or even El'Yegin, the nearest city and town at the Borders of the Scarred Lands respectively. But those places were homes of the elvish people, and as far as she could see, the town they were currently in was definitely one where humans were the majority.

Things were not matching up, and it troubled Syiana deeply. She began listening to their conversation even more intently, deciding to get hold of as much information as possible so to help her figure out what exactly happened to her. But it was very difficult, for Samuel and the elf spoke with terms that she had never heard before, and she prided herself in keeping touch with the latest developments outside of Nil'Noere. And things still were not matching up.

But there was one thing she understood well enough. The lady elf had negotiated successfully with Samuel, and he was coming along with them for the moment. Which meant that while she might have to experience more of his irritating attitude, she did not have to explain her unusual and mystifying appearance outside of the town alone. So it was not all that bad, after all.

[OOC: El'Briven is not on my map. Syiana is thinking in terms of her timeline. The old Borders of the Scarred Lands is beyond that elven city. Syiana is confused, but she's more likely to ask questions later when the atmosphere is better. She doesn't understand what Samuel did, even though she understands his intention behind it. Okay, moving on. ^^]

Nanaira ignored the man's display, thinking it better not to encourage him. She lead the pair towards into the mayor's office. Like most of the buildings in the town, it was made of wood. The walls were a dingy brown, the floors had years of dust on them. After a year of spending time in towns like this, she had started to long for the elegance of El'Lerione.

She had a brief debate with the mayor. An additional chair was brought in so both the unician and the arrogant human could sit. The mayor cleared off his desk space, helping Nanaira unfurl his map of the Luriean. She slid her dagger free of its sheath and set it down on one side of the map, while the mayor put a stone paperweight on the other. The mayor sat down looking over the pair.

"So, This is the fabled Unician."

"Not fabled, Mister Mayor. You see one before you. My people still remember them and many if not most had have met one during some point of their lives. My race is long-lived." Nanaira stated the obvious, her nerves were already somewhat frayed from dealing with the human, this man's disbelief annoyed her further. She turned to the pair. "This is Luriean as it is now. There is no reason for us to fabricate a map," Nanaira said, looking directly at the human.

"Captain, perhaps you could start by introducing yourself. Kinda hard for people to trust you when you haven't even given them your name," Kalrion called from the back of room, where he stood leaning against the wall with his eyes closed.

"Yes, I suppose so. I am Nanaira Ellnythos, I hail from El'Lerione. My companion is Kalrion Rhedar. As I mentioned before, we are mercenaries," she said and turned to look at the mayor, who smiled bloodlessly. "I would appreciate a name so I could stop mentally labeling you 'The unician' and 'the overdressed human'. You both seem to have no idea where you are, could you tell us where you were before?"

OOC: still recovering from midterms >.<

EMERY

Once the young pirate was stable, Emery left Cale to tend to him for the night while he went to go see what Talisen wanted. He was filled with the usual apprehension; his stomach was twisted into knots. He didn’t have any dinner at all, even though there was the special feast and all. He’d missed it due to the harrowing ordeal of bringing Griff back from the brink of death. Emery stopped and placed a hand on the side of one of the buildings, coughing violently for a few moments. He felt weak and shaky from all the energy he’d exerted throughout the day. But there was no way he was going to let the High Priest worry about him.

He made it to the compound the High Priest was staying at in one piece and knocked nervously on the sitting room door.

“Come in,” came the warm voice of the High Priest.

Emery cautiously opened the door and stepped into the sitting room, where Talisen sat in a chair beside a crackling fire, book open. He closed his book and took his glasses off when Emery came in.

“Close the door.”

Emery closed the door, wondering if he was going to be punished for helping pirates. Talisen smiled at him. “Have a seat. And don’t be so shy.”

Emery took the chair on the other side of the fire, his eyes wide as he waited for Talisen’s news. Or punishment.

“I wanted to let you know that you did a very good job in your role today.”

Emery blinked, taken completely by surprise. “Wh-what?!” The High Priest had brought him here merely to praise him? How…awkward.

“Yes,” Talisen smiled again. He was always all smiles. “I also wanted to let you know that there will be certain guests in attendance when I leave here tomorrow morning, and that I would like you to treat them well, although I know that goes without saying with you.”

“Yes.” Emery could not fathom what it was the High Priest was trying to say.

“I also hear you have a special guest of your own?”

Emery looked down at his hands, wringing in his lap. “Y-yes, Father.”

“There is nothing wrong with a priest with compassion, Emery. Don’t think so little of yourself. Perhaps those pirates will do you a great favor in their future for this kindness. You never know.”

Emery didn’t know what to say. He’d helped simply because they needed it, not because he hoped for help later for himself. He’d just never thought of it that way. Such was his nature.

“Well, thank you, sir… For seeing me.”

“Yes. And hopefully we will not see you in the front lines any time soon.”

Without even elaborating on what he’d just said, the High Priest dismissed him. As he closed the door behind him, Emery shook his head. What was going on in the world? Why was it he was so clueless? He thought he’d ask Griff a few questions when he woke.

RHYS

Rhys awoke with a start, eyes flying open and heart racing. The rain had let up, but he was still soaked and his hair lay flat around his head. He heard the noise that had woken him up again, a strange slithery noise, like something in the underbrush. Rhys hefted his spear in hand and stared intently at the brush, waiting for something to come out and attack him. He saw the plants moving faintly, and his scarlet eyes narrowed, his brows knitting together closely in concentration as he readied his spear to impale the enemy.

The young, immature face of a baby griffin popped out, its black eyes glinting in a small arrow of sun slanting down through the trees. It stared at Rhys intently, his backside up in the air as if he planned on attacking Rhys.

Rhys relaxed and brought his spear back over to lean against his wet chest. “Where’s your mom, kid? Is she gonna eat me?”

Rhys looked around, and the baby lunged at his leg. Rhys laughed at the small animal’s attempt to maul his leg, then grabbed it by the scruff of the neck and looked at its face. It looked sulky and ashamed that it’d been caught. Rhys laughed aloud.

“You’re a funny little thing, aren’t ya?” Rhys set it down, and it poked its birdlike front claws at a beetle marching through the grass. “I’m hungry, too… Maybe I should check out what sorta food they got around here…”

Rhys stood up with a grunt, his whole body argued with the movement, and his muscles were stiff from falling asleep in the rain in an awkward position. Rhys yawned hugely, which caused the baby griffin to skitter into the underbrush again in alarm. It stayed there for a long moment, before cautiously poking its head out again.

Rhys grinned at it. “Let’s go find some food in this weird place.”

As Rhys walked through the forest, he found himself gripped with a worry he’d been pushing back for some time. He didn’t know where he was or how he’d gotten here. Was it possible that he’d gone into a coma or had amnesia, or even worse… A cold chill trickled down his spine. He could have been under someone’s control. He would have no memory of what he had done, but he still could have done something horrible.

But it didn’t explain why he was still in the ridiculous suit from the party. Which was wet and squelchy and distinctly uncomfortable. Rhys tore the jacket and shirt off. How he hated formal wear. He also noted that he was barefoot. His memory was fuzzy on how, but he probably had take his shoes off when he’d gone to bed that night everything had changed. Feeling more comfortable, but a lot like a savage, Rhys fiddled with the bushes and tried to scare out a rabbit or pheasant. Something edible.

He eyed the griffin a few times, but he felt a kinship with it somehow and couldn’t bring himself to eat it. As he grew closer to a weird looking area with a low rock overhang, the griffin began making small whining sounds, not too unlike a puppy. As Rhys ventured forward towards a suspicious mound, the baby griffin stopped altogether, hanging its head low.

Rhys stopped as well when he saw it. There was a large griffin lying in its own pool of blood, head cracked open and eyes unseeing and glassy. He stared at it for a moment, before looking back at the young griffin. No wonder the thing was chasing him around. It didn’t have a mom to go home to.

Rhys edged back towards the young griffin and stopped to soothe it.

“Hey, don’t worry… You got me now, little fellow…”

Somehow he felt even more alone than when he’d started this whole mess. Why the hell had he run from that place? At least it was civilized… But then he wouldn’t be here with this griffin, and perhaps the griffin would have died. He hated destiny. It was a stupid, confusing thing that was too big to comprehend.


(OOC: Yeah... I don't mind interaction...)

[ Liam ]


Legs pounded one in front of another in a slow dance of a walk to his cozy little home. A large hand tussling thick and curling hair’s that sprouted most generously from his head. These hairs were covering those strongly green eyes that seemed to penetrate anything. It was after a dewy night Liam decided to make his way home from the mountains near the steam-era town, after practicing with the relic called a broadsword. Breath penetrated his lungs deep taking in the smell of soot and civilization that would soon surround his entire being. Lips pursed quietly in pretentious thoughts that would soon ramble and roll around taking most of his thinking power. Scenery was quickly changing from unsettled forest region to industrialized buildings and homes with glowing windows against the foggy night. Another breath was sipped, carefully like a young adult trying alcohol for the first time. Soon enough he realized in the back of his mind as the full moon peeked over the fog that he was breathing in clouds. Those thinned lips curved in to a full smile of pearls showing his draconic side through his gleaming eyes with pupils that had a slight slit like appearance. But this was accompanied with his unusual build of muscle on his frame and the sharp ‘fang’ like protrusions where normal human canines would be. Soon the hand that tussled up ashy curls moved over the scar on his nose bridge that was received from a mystery that he could never remember. Then fingers traced down a strongly set jaw to the scrubble of a forming beard that would never be. Lost in thought with his body paused on the side of a steaming asphalt road those emeralds peered at the slightly orange moon.

Something was going to happen, but he was not a soothsayer with an inept ability to peer in to the future like many women try to say they have. When really they pretended to be gypsies giving fortunes when really they were traveling women looking for easy coin. The ones that could actually peer in to the future and past were most likely elves but they were rare to come upon now that they isolated them selves from human interaction. Liam sighed and the hand that once stroked a thickening beard went back to create a rat’s nest out of his locks. Turning back towards the town before giving thought to dash home, to the home he was raised in with his mother and his father. The home he was conceived and birthed in one hundred years ago. Crickets playfully twittered their back legs in a small summer orchestra with fireflies flickering their tails to dance to the indigenous music of their fellow insect. Hands left what they were doing whether it was ruffling curled hairs or tightening the strap of his sheath to his broad sword across his broad chest. They dove in to Liam’s pockets that were attached to the tight jacket that hugged over his silken shirt and chest. Shoulders rose up wards and his walked, the old home that was once his family’s was not far at all. It was on the out skirts with rustling tall grass and speckling of pine and other trees. The whirr of a train off in the distance rolled over his ears as a snort pressed from his nostrils sending little clouds of steam. Liam could not understand this new era very well, where humans started to create machines and other things from fantasy. Some were trains used for transportation of human’s and items, others were weapons such as a ‘gun’. The gun puzzled him the most on how it worked, it was a n interesting tool he had to admit. They started appearing in most human strong holds that have suddenly branched out from the larger city of Ti’ Lethan

Clicks of his odd boots made contact with the strange road building materials that were not as common as cobblestones or compacted dirt in other smaller cities and towns. As he shivered from the chill of the night’s air and the damp of fog settling on his coat. His hair was like silk until thick droplets of dew stranded on them straightening out the ashen corkscrews. Lips tightened once more making record time to the warm cabin, cuspids chattered like primates in communication over idiotic things. Soon the small building appeared with frosted windows and growing grasses that encroached as if to take over all life on that property. Soon enough a yawn curled at the corners of his mouth, as the stars twinkled like diamonds against black velvet of a black market tradesman. Feet stamping through the grasses cutting a pathway through the rustling vegetation until smooth steps up to the old porch that was replaced by his father some time ago only for him to disappear once more with out alerting Liam he was even around. A smirk and a snort of laughter caressed his throat as one thought surfaced up wards like an answer from an magic 8 ball. ‘ Seems like Fa likes keeping his –nest- well repaired and standing. ‘ His own deep and pleasurable voice drifted with those words in his mind as his hand settled on the copper knob that was smooth from oils of human and dragon. Soon an electric shock seemed to shiver through his body, making the hairs on the back of his tanned neck stand almost straight up. Settling down with a gulp hanging thickly in his Adam’s apple as the familiar click of the door opened and the door swung open from the breeze that rushed past him in to the musty home that lingered of scents of his father and very rarely of his mothers perfume.

Reminders of his childhood up until her death rushed in to his mind like an intoxicating drink finally taking its toll after a few glasses or bottles. Liam rushed a hand to his forehead feeling cold after stepping in to the warmth of his home; it wasn’t the cold you get from temperature but from fever. Sweat seemed to pour from every pore on his face and the back of his neck, covering him in to a cold sweat. Leaning over the table with his right hand on his face spreading out over his eye, cheek and forehead with a wave of nausea floating in his upper stomach. The young male leaned deeply on to a carved chair that his father sat in opening his chest with a few sputtering coughs. It wasn’t the memories that over whelmed him with sickness but the feeling of the room and the air around him. Soon he began his hobble something rare that no one would catch the prideful male doing up to the loft where his room resided. Liam shook off this feeling knowing it was going to pass but at the moment he felt like he wanted vomit out his guts and smack his head on a boulder. But sleep would be a better option, something safer than those other alternatives as the stairs creaked under his weight. Cool cotton sheets and warm quilts sounded inviting as it was, with mouth gaping in a hoarse breath. Something wasn’t right, why was he feeling this way? Soon as tired and worm feet made over a rug covered floor Liam collapsed on the pillow bed with its cherry maple frame. Clothes and broadsword strapped to his back he fell as sleep on contact with those blankets, as he laid in a spread eagle fashion. Soon thunder thundered around his home as if magically he was about to embark on a fabulous journey. When it was his destiny to do so and so he shall in his sleep, to the past where he was to land somewhere unknown to this time.

"Greetings, and blessings from Vie'Neria, Lord Mayor." The sorceress opened her eyes fully and summoned a polite smile, that she knew made her look more amiable. Her father had often told her and her mother to smile more for a reason after all. "My name is Syiana Rue Ishcyiel, hailing from Nil'Noere.

"Normally I would not do this, but since you have doubts regarding my identity, I think it would be more than appropriate for me to provide some information for you to check with." She raised her right hand to display the silver ring sitting on her middle finger. "I am a member of the Council of High Sorcerors and personal aide of our Unician queen, Jibriela Cie Nieren. And daughter of Shizu Mia Ischyciel, the first Unician to sit on the High Council of Sorcerors."

Allowing her eyelids to drop to their usual position, hiding the eagle-like sharpness that infiltrated her gaze, she relaxed her smile a little. "As for where I was before... this may sound very strange to you, but I was in my room back in Nil'Noere, where I was preparing to report to my queen, when I fell asleep due to unnatural means. I awoke to find myself outside of your city, roused by this overdressed man, as you call him."

[OOC: I forgot to say it earlier, but Vie'Neria is the Water God. Syiana is somewhat well-known, so her identity can indeed be checked.]

“Sir?” The mayor turned his attentions to the oddly dressed man sitting next to Syiana.

“Huh?” Samuel looked up from the map to find all eyes on him. “Sorry.” He absent-mindedly apologized as he turned his attentions back to the map spread out on the desk. “I was just noticing how wrong this map is.”

Nanaira’s face assumed a stony look as she was quickly growing tired of the human’s defiance. “I just said we have no reason to fabricate a map. Why would we?”

Samuel remained calmly slumped down in his chair, his right hand resting on his chin as he continued to assess the map. “Regardless of that, “ he said with a shrug, “ it’s still wrong.”

Before a visibly agitated Nanaira could say anything, the mayor cut her off. “Sir, you have still not told us who you are.”

“Oh.” Samuel commented as quickly sat upright and composed himself. “I, am Samuel Trinmon.” His voice carried all the pride and confidence it always did when he introduced himself. He held his breath for a second as he waited for someone in the room to recognize the name. But the only response was silence. Samuel released the breath with a shallow sigh. “Figures.” He had not been recognized by anyone the entire day, why should now be any different?

Picking up his fallen ego, Samuel continued on. “Anyway, this map is missing at least seven major cities. Not to mention most of the cities that are on it I’ve never heard of. I mean this town is not even on there.”

“Yes it is.” Nanaria interjected, her sharp tone indicating her frustration with Samuel had not waned.

Once again they mayor interceded. “Samuel, was it?” The man continued after Samuel nodded. “Just where do you think you are?”

Samuel stood up and forcefully poked the map with his right hand. “Right about here.” He addressed the map. His left hand traced where the train’s path should have been. He tapped the map where the imaginary path intersected with the border of the elven kingdom. The fact the train was missing from the map was no surprise, it was not even a year old. “We got off the train for the night here. When I woke up by myself, the surrounding land was a little different, so I might be off bit. I walked east most of today so somewhere around here.“ He said taping the map with his right hand.

“Try here.” Nanaria said as she pointed to Ti’Aurthan. She seemed all too happy to correct the annoying human.

Samuel chuckled as he opened his mouth to inform the elf that there was no way this small hole in the wall was Ti’Aurthan. However, he did not get the chance.

“This is not Ti’Aurthan” Syiana calmly interrupted. Samuel turned to look, but her face did not betraying any hint of her thoughts. After the earlier outburst about demons, Samuel wondered just what sea of emotions boiled beneath that calm surface.

Letting his gaze return to the elf, Samuel nodded with a grin. “She’s right. This town is much too small.” Samuel heard Syiana move in her chair suddenly. It only caught his attention because it seemed overly abrupt.

“This is Ti’Aurthan.” The mayor confirmed.

“No, it’s not. I have been to Ti’Aurthan too many times.” Samuel contradicted with knowing laugh. He flicked the pointer finger of his right hand into the air. “First off, too small.” He then proceeded to count out on his fingers each famous site he could think of that he had not seen on their trip through the town. “… the imperial barracks, the shrine of Ran’Diel, the Fugion Music Hall… ”

“Wait.Wait.” The mayor interrupted. “The shrine of Ran’Diel?”

“Yeah,” Samuel replied, mildly annoyed at being interrupted. “the largest shrine this side of the Runth Desert. The one with well that supplies all the holy water.”

“That is here.” The mayor said.

*_*

Samuel stood staring at the small shrine a frown on his face. Syiana stood silently next to him, but her emotionless face did not share his scowl.

The small building before him was different, but it’s resemblance to the entrance of the grand temple of Ran’Diel was too disturbing. He could imagine the towering temple behind the small shrine and it fir perfectly. The holy well was there to the right of the shrine, just as he remembered from his last visit to the city.

“See,” Nanaria smugly said. Samuel could see the joy in her face at proving him wrong. “this is Ti’Aurthan.”

The frown deepened on Samuel’s face. “Damn.” Samuel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Thoughts were racing around in his head. He needed to relax and figure out just what was going on. “I need a drink.” He announced flatly as he grabbed his toolkit and bundle of clothes off the ground and began walking.

“What?” Narania said, the smugness replaced by surprise. “Where are you going?”

Samuel pointed ahead, “I think I saw a bar somewhere back there.”

“You can not go. The mayor told us to bring you here and then bring you back to talk with him. He is summoning the city council.” Nanaria was dumfounded by the human’s blatant arrogance. “Stop now.” Samuel thought the stern tone of the command carried the threat of violence.

Samuel whirled around and addressed the elf, exhaustion replacing the confidence usually in his tone. “Listen lady. I’ve been walking all day, I’m tired, hungry, and very confused. I’m going. “ Samuel paused slightly before continuing, the arrogant tone returning to his voice. “You have three choices. Either have your friend give me my barrel and I go to a bar, you all come with me to a bar, or I take my barrel and then go to a bar.”

Nanaria’s hand was upon her sword. She opened her mouth to speak but stopped as Syiana walked past her toward Samuel. “Relax.” she advised the elf as she continued walking toward the human, “It would be easier to give the man what he wants than fight with him. I am hungry as well. Besides a few drinks might make him less irritating.”

Samuel turned back around and began walking. Mirth once gain filled his voice as he called back. “Sorry ladies. My friends say nothing makes me less annoying.”

(OCC:
Please let me know if I used anyone’s character’s incorrectly. Sorry about the quality, but I think I’m getting sick so…

Seluna I’d imagine Syiana knew of Ti’Aurthan, but thinks it is not Ti’Aurthan for the opposite reason, too big. Maybe it was just the shrine in her time? And no, Samuel as not quite come to grips with what is going on but he is working on it and he has admited something is very wrong.

The tavern was a request, so “A drinking we will go, a drinking we will go, hi ho…”
)

Having followed the small group all the way to the Mayor’s office again, if from a slight distance, Fernand decided to wait and see how this was about to play out. The strangely dressed man from before had gone in with them, and while he had been an interesting figure to observe, Fernand was almost ashamed of himself for not noticing the other one first.

Apart of the small group was a petite pale woman, with beautiful if very unusual features. She had neck-length platinum silver hair, with a fringe cut just above her eyelids, which were usually half-closed. His eyes were drawn to a small jewel above her eyes on her forehead, but then immediately above it he noticed a small bump under her hair. It was the Unician woman, live and in the flesh.

Surely this woman wouldn’t be safe in a town like this, with authority that was so unscrupulous when it came to outsiders. Fernand didn’t quite understand it, but he felt something strange inside. He felt a faint pulling towards this Unician and the Strange man, but it was so faint he didn’t know if it was just his curiosity at work or something more.

Whatever it was, his mind was telling him to forget it and get his pay out of the bank, but he didn’t listen to himself for a change and decided to wait behind a wagon near the Mayor’s office for their reappearance.

He noticed from his position a pair of soldiers arrive nearby. They weren’t dressed like soldiers, but Fernand knew them from the day he arrived back in town, carrying spears at the palisade walls. Now they were dressed like common folk, but sticking out of their cloaks were the iron pommels of broadswords. They were definitely also tailing this group Fernand had been watching, but perhaps for not such benign purposes. Although being born commoners and not soldiers, it would be a mistake to underestimate their skill after manning the walls of a border town during demon raids, but he couldn’t allow them to get in the way. Fernand had a plan of his own, now with some time to think about it.

The group reemerged from the Mayor’s office, being led by the elf woman and her human companion carrying a small barrel under his arms. Following them was the rather eager, if a little confused looking man with the strange clothes, and next to him was the Unician, who remained impassive.

Fernand let them pass by, and they didn’t even notice he was looking at them. Then he watched as the two soldiers’ incognito followed behind, and he decided to follow them in turn. They were heading for The Shrine of Ran’Diel. When the group arrived, the two soldiers took a position to their right, slipping into a side alley directly next to the Shrine, and Fernand walked past them, only to turn south and walk in the direction of the tavern, looking like a common traveler with his cloak covering most of his body. No one noticed him walk by, so he took cover in a different alley instead.

They talked for a brief time, Fernand couldn’t quite hear what they said, but he noticed they began to walk towards him. They walked past though without noticing him, as he stood in the long shadow of a building, sign of the soon to be setting sun. They weren’t the only people going to the tavern, as dinnertime was approaching, but the two soldiers began to walk south and towards him as well.

Checking to see that no one else was in the small street, and that the sunlight was getting slowly darker, he waited for them to be almost in range before stepping out in front of them. Hood pulled over his head to avoid them recognizing him.

The two soldiers stopped, a little surprised to see a hooded man in a long blue cloak step out in front of them. Their hands both reached for the pommels of their blades, and stayed there waiting to draw steel if needed to.

“Now now, gentlemen, no need for that,” Fernand said, extending his hands outward to the side, but keeping his hooded head downwards. “I am a single traveling bard, and I’d like to entreat you to pause a moment and watch my talents, so that you would be so kind as to by a poor man a nice hot meal. You may call me Animae!” Suddenly in Fernand’s hands appeared three juggling balls.

Unknown to most, before Fernand became a magic-using warrior in the war against the Demon Lord, he had lived as a teenager inside a Ti’Lethan theater. He had become apart of the troupe of performers while his mother helped make and repair costumes, and had taken on the stage name Animae. Animae was a popular acrobatic clown with the lower class theater attendees in Ti’Lethan, until his disappearance and Fernand went to the abbey to train into the man he was now. Sometimes it helped to pull out his old talents.

The two soldiers looked a little confused, and they exchanged a glance. “Out of our way you bum, we’re busy!” A soldier made to push past him.

Suddenly one of the three balls in Fernand’s hands, which was deceptively heavy, flew through the air towards the face of the solider who didn’t move, striking his nose with a loud crack, and forcing the man to fall to his knees. The two other heavy balls, one in each hand, Fernand gripped in his open palms and slammed into the temples of the moving solider. There was the sound of a thud on impact, and the man was instantly unconscious and fell.

“Ugh....what the hell?!!” The solider with the broken nose screamed, kneeling on the floor. His hand made for his sword, but before it arrived Fernand brought his leg up and kicked the man in the head. He collapsed too with only the sound of a small thud.

“Well,” Fernand said to himself picking up the ball he had thrown and attaching all three to the back of his belt. “You’ll wake up with a severe headache tomorrow.” He then opened a steel flask tied around his waist, lifted it to his nose and recoiled at the smell. “I hate it when the guards get drunk and fight.” He poured the contents of the flask over the two soldiers, threw it down next to them and left with a self-satisfied smile.

---

Upon entering the tavern, he let down his hood but didn’t take off the cloak. He saw the four travelers, including the Unician, sitting together at a table off to the side of the tavern. It appeared that the Overdressed strange man was arguing with the elf woman about something, while the Unician remained silent and the other man wore an expression of solemn determination on the side of the elf woman. He wasn’t quite sure what to do about her yet, but he was trying to find a way to get the Unician away from the others. Then, he remembered something.

The small crystal vial dangling from his neck. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the only thing Fernand could think of. To someone who didn’t know how to handle the substance, it could put them in a trance state for a few hours, keeping their minds alive but their bodies asleep. It didn’t take affect straight away, and the first few times Fernand had fallen asleep because of the substance instead of entering a trance state, but with mild ale it shouldn’t be too dangerous. Hopefully.

He took a seat at the bar of the tavern and waited for it to become complete night, usually checking to see if the Unician was still at her table with the others. The strangely dressed man and the elf had done the vast majority of talking, from what Fernand could hear, with occasional interjections from the other two. It became too hard to hear when the tavern became busy and filled up with townsmen, though. Looking out the window to reassure himself of the darkness outside, he turned to order two light ales from the bartender.

He reached for the vial under his shirt and brought it out very discreetly. Already he could start to feel though that something was amiss with the town; a sense of approaching danger. It was a feeling like he had gotten many times before; prickling at the back of the neck and a cold breeze seemed to float through him despite the door and windows being shut. He knew exactly what it meant, and any other day he would have raced out of the tavern to the town walls, but tonight he had to get this Unician.

He poured a few drops from the vial into one of the two drinks in front of him, and sliding that drink slightly to his right, he turned around in his chair and tugged on the back of a barmaid’s dress to get her attention. The girl turned with an innocent smile and asked what Fernand would like to drink.

“No, I’d like you to do me a favor,” Fernand said, smiling benignly at the barmaid. “Do you see that pretty silver-haired woman at the corner table? Could you please tell her that the gentlemen in the dark blue coat would like to buy her a drink?”

(OOC: Part 1 of 2 of my little twist! Tag Seluna)

There were other reasons behind Syiana's agreeing to go along with Samuel's idea, despite taverns being her least favorite places in general. Apart from heading off a possible hostile situation and genuinely thinking that Samuel may just be a bit more bearable in a place he was more comfortable with, she really need some time and space to think.

The map that the Mayor showed was slightly different from the one she was familiar with, although not wrong, as Samuel so eloquently put it. It could be credited to the incompetence of a mapmaker, as she had experienced before, so she was not too bothered.

However, what really troubled her was that they insisted that the town they were currently standing in was Ti'Aurthan. She could not believe it, even after she saw the well, which was the exact one that she had seen two years ago. And it was still only known as the Well of Ran'Diel, in the small village of Aurthan. It was not until Queen Jibriela told her in a passing mention then did she even know that it had became a town.

Vie'Neria bless her... what exactly was going on?

Her mind worked furiously to get a full picture of the situation as she nibbled on a piece of bread, tuning out the noise that was ever existent in every tavern she came across. Ignoring what they said about Nil'Noere, everything else indicated that the world she had woke up to was at least fifty years later than the one she grew up in and journeyed in. If she went by that thinking, then a lot of things made more sense. But even then, there were still a lot more unanswered questions left.

Which would explain why she nearly jumped out of her seat when a barmaid suddenly tapped on her shoulder. Quickly recovering, she smiled slightly at the girl who glanced at her horn apprehensively, as did almost every one in the tavern when their group had stepped in. "Yes?"

"The man in the blue coat would like to buy you a drink, ma'am."

Syiana gazed at the direction that the barmaid indicated, and soon found a brown-haired human nodding at her. Her eyes slipped open a little and she raised an eyebrow, wondering what was the man's intention. His gaze was not like those of the other men who had extended a similar invitation, and held none of the suspicion found in the eyes of many other in the tavern. Normally, she would not have bother, but a curiosity like she had never felt before compelled her to join him. Turning a blind eye towards the disapproving looks of the female elf and her human companion, she stood gracefully and followed the barmaid.

"I do not to believe that I am acquainted to you, Mister." Her soft voice came out like a melodic verse of song, holding no trace of the Unician accent that used to carry over in her speech when she was younger. The corners of her lips were lifted into a small half-smile, and her expression was perfectly calm and serene, as always. "Care to enlighten me?"

"Well, I do not believe I'm acquainted with you either, so let me introduce myself as Fernand. I'm... a travelling actor. Please join me for a drink." Motioning to the empty seat beside him, his smile was charming.

Finding that she was feeling more relaxed with this stranger than the other three, despite still being cautious, she promptly decided to stop thinking for just this short while and took the seat. Perhaps she may even have a pleasant conversation, not just something to distract her from the reality of the situation.

As the silver-haired woman took a seat next to Fernand, he smiled to himself inwardly. He hadn’t exactly lied about being a traveling actor, and these days his acting could help him accomplish many things. After all, the woman had just sat down next to him with little fuss. She seemed compliant thus far.

“And what, may I ask, is the name of the maiden I am speaking to now?” Fernand asked casually, in a friendly charming sort of way that caught the woman off-guard.

She stared at him for a few seconds; her half-opened eyes were mired with concentration and thoughts. Her facial expression clearly gave her away as silent thinker, in the restrained way she held her eyelids and cheeks properly in check. She was controlled, but Fernand’s simple question hit somewhere in her. “Oh! I…you may call me Syiana,” she replied in a lyrical calm voice, quiet but firm.

“Then I know your name, and you know mine, Lady Syiana,” Fernand said in his usual friendly tone. “If you do not mind me asking, you are a Lady of noble birth are you not? What brings you to a place such as this when you could dine with the Mayor himself?”

“A lady? There is no need to call me that. Me and my…companions were just passing through this town on our way to El'Briven,” Syiana said, becoming more relaxed around Fernand, but she hadn’t yet taken a drink.

Fernand fought against the urge to raise a cynical eyebrow at her mention of a town that no longer existed, and just smiled and nodded. “The flowers are in full bloom over there this time of year. But it is quite a far journey,” he said, raising his mug slightly off the bar counter. “To your health and good travel, my lady.”

Syiana raised her mug as well, without missing a beat and maintaining perfect control, but Fernand noticed she took a rather substantial serve from her tainted ale. This time he did raise an eyebrow, but only chuckled slightly and smiled. “To your health as well, good performer,” she said calmly.

The silver haired woman Syiana, who Fernand first guessed would soon head over to her companions and then retire to her room, feeling drowsy from the effect of the vial’s liquid, actually stayed at the bar with Fernand for a while. They engaged in conversation in a few topics, if not a little awkwardly. She seemed to be lacking knowledge about recent topics, so Fernand avoided them, but then possessed a lot of information when it came to history and more classical subjects. Mainly it was just idle chat though.

Suddenly, Fernand realized he had been talking to Syiana for the past half hour. He was getting anxious now, as the liquid was bound to take full effect soon. Her movements, while still calm and cool were a little more sluggish than when she first sat down, and her smile had changed from controlled slight serenity to a large instinctive one, but other than that she was perfectly in control after a second drink and the vial’s liquid slowly taking affect.

“My lady, have you paid your respects to The Shrine of Ran’Diel upon arriving in this town? I have yet to myself, and they say its bad fortune for travelers not to leave a coin or two at the foot of the shrine,” Fernand said, trying to mask is anxiety and find a way to get her out of this crowded place.

“Oh, I was there earlier this afternoon, but I believe I forgot to leave a tribute unfortunately,” Syiana said curtly, slightly intrigued with the idea that the shrine needed tribute.

“Then perhaps, would you like to go there now and pay your tribute under the light of the stars?” Fernand asked sweetly, hoping she’d say yes.

“I could think of nothing better,” Syiana said, getting to her feet before Fernand could. She became slightly imbalanced though, more to the vial’s affect than the alcohol’s affect, and Fernand extended an arm for her to support her. They walked out of the tavern together, barely noticed by the other patrons who were well into their drinking for the night, including the strangely dressed man Fernand had noticed was drinking a considerable amount.

Outside, he escorted her back to the Shrine. Fernand noticed that the guards who were lying in the street a few hours ago were gone now, with bloodstains where they had been lying, but Syiana didn’t pay it any mind and continued walking to the Shrine. She stopped in front of it, touching the old stones lightly and thinking to herself.

“They say that this used to be a well, about 70 or more years ago. But one day this well produced large amounts of water in a period of long drought, and they hailed it a miracle. In reality, the wells base probably deteriorated and an underground stream leaked into it, but all the same…it is now a shrine and this is now a busy little town. Impressive huh?”

“I wasn’t aware of that tale,” Syiana said absently, still observing the stones of the old shrine. Suddenly, she spun to face Fernand, her half-opened eyes now wide and revealing a kind of ferocious intensity that Fernand had never seen before. Those eyes possessed wisdom Fernand couldn’t begin to understand. “Tell me, why have you been so kind? Why do you not think I am a demon?” the tone of her voice was firm and direct, showing Fernand that despite his apparent generosity throughout the evening she was wondering that question from the very beginning.

“My lady, am I not a simple actor? I do not judge on appearances alone, and besides, your appearance is hardly demonic at that,” Fernand said simply.

“Yes, but why have you been so nice to me? A stranger in more ways than one?” Syiana said, her eyes and her tone not relenting even for a second after Fernand’s first answer. “A poor actor treating someone he calls a lady to a drink does not make sense either.”

Fernand, thinking for a moment, knew that the drug would take its full effect soon, and then stared back at Syiana with a new look. Not benign, friendly or charming like he had been throughout the night; now there was coldness in his eyes, competing violently with compassion in Fernand’s mind. “No, it doesn’t make sense. But then again, neither do you being here make sense. But don’t worry; we’ll deal with it tomorrow.”

Syiana’s eyes flared, and her firm tone became even harder, but it still didn’t betray the anger she felt. She could now realize something was going completely wrong here. “What do you mean, ‘tomorrow’?”

Fernand tried not to laugh. Despite his usual friendly compassionate demeanor, he derived a certain sinister joy when he knew his plan had just worked. Syiana wasn’t quite aware yet, but she had already fallen over, her legs and arms becoming weak and limp. Her mind was still active though, and her vivid powerful eyes flashed surprise when she realized what had happened. Fernand leaned over her, smiling sympathetically. “I have given you a type of rare hallucinogen that induces severe delayed drowsiness to the unprepared user. You’re about to fall into a sleep of many dreams, but before you do, remember that I am not your enemy, and my name really is Fernand. Now sleep, dear lady.”

Fernand was right, because only a few seconds after he had finished speaking Syiana had drifted into a state of unnatural sleep. Fernand looked down on her, thinking that maybe one day she’ll understand why he did it, and maybe one day he could make it up for her, but before he had any time for reflection the feeling arose on the back of his neck again, more acutely than before. He started to hear noises and shouts coming from the walls of the town. The demons had arrived.

Quickly picking up Syiana and carrying her to the stables close to the tavern, he placed her into the saddle of his horse, wrapped his blue cloak around her tightly and jumped in the saddle himself. The shouts were growing louder, and the town bell had begun to ring out. Demons must already be inside the town, so there was no time to waste on supplies or finding another horse. Holding Syiana’s sleeping body in place in the saddle with one hand and gripping the reins of his horse with the other, he forced his horse into an immediate jolt for the town gates.

At the Southern Gate, the shouting wasn’t so loud. The demons must have come in another way. He simply told the garrison at the South Gate to let him though, as he was carrying a wounded but important messenger out of the town before the demons could intercept him, and because the cloak around Syiana hid her face completely from them, he rode right through the South Gate and out of the city.

Riding down the deserted highway for a few minutes, he stopped to think about his next move. Turn west and hide in the forest, continue south to Ti’Viin or swing around the town and go north. But it was then that he remembered something important, and his decision was made.

He rode that night, while carrying the sleeping Unician, along the southern highway, until he got to a fork in the road. One road led to Ti’Viin and the ocean, and the other, a road unused for many years, moss-covered and broken, led to the Ruins of Nil’Noere in the demon lands.

Fernand chose the road less traveled.

(OOC: Alrighty, now things are starting to speed up. Fernand abducts Syiana, and I've implied that Samuel will be drunk during his first chance to fight the demons that were following him. Sounds like fun. I hope no one has any objections to this little twist I set up.

Don't mind my mistakes, It's 12:35 am here)

Nanaira had noted with suspicious, the man who offered Syiana a drink. Though she thought it unwise to accept drinks from men you did not know, Syiana was a grown woman and quite able to make her own decisions. She turned back Samuel and Kalrion. Kalrion was eyeing the serving wench. She leaned over with a faint smile.

"I'm not yielding coin so you can tumble the girl, we don't have the coin to spare."

"Jealous," he asked, grinning at her.

"No, if you can get her for free then I have no problems with it. She doesn't look the type though." Kalrion gave her a morose look.

"Captain, can't you play along for once." She rolled her eyes skyward and turned back to Samuel, nursing her annoyance and her beer. Nanaira was not much of drinker but in towns like this it was often safer to drink the beer.

"Back to what I was saying," she paused when she noticed the man and Syiana getting up and wandering out of the bar. A frown creased her features. "Excuse my rudeness." She got up and took after them, leaving Samuel to make his own opinions on her. Skilled at being unnoticed when she wanted, she crept after them. They were headed up to the well? She trailed them slowly keeping far back enough to not be noticed. A sensation tickled at the back of her mind, she turned her head unerringly in the direction of origin. Demons? She swore softly, they always attacked at the most inconvenient times or perhaps because they were the most inconvenient. She turned back to task at hand, intending to catch up with the pair and warn them but when she arrived they were both gone and the only thing there was Syiana's staff. Nanaira swore again and grabbed it. If she left it here, it would probably only get stolen and pawned for the metal and jewels. The young Elvan woman headed back to the bar. Kalrion look over at her, his eyes widening when he saw the staff in her hands. He removed his feet from the top of the table and strode over to join her.

"What happened?"

"I... I got distracted," she looked away, shamefaced. "I fear she has been kidnapped and demons are closing in on the towns from the East." She barely heard his string of curses as she walked up to Samuel. "You want to see my make-believe demons? Join us at the East gate." Nanaira headed upstairs to store the staff in her room and checked the lock. When she returned most of the tavern room had emptied out except for Kalrion and Samuel. Shouting could be hear outside. She placed a light hand on Kalrion's shoulder, smiling grimly.

"Let's go earn our wages."

He nodded with an equally dark look, checking his sword. The pair ran out towards the East.



At the East gate, archers were lining up on the wall, preparing to fire down on the demon horde. Nanaira and Kalrion slipped out with the infantry. The pike men were in the front, preparing for the clash with the mounted demon force. Swordsmen stood behind them, should the pikemen need to retreat the swords would stand and do the close quarter fighting. The demon troops approached, the pikemen lowered their pikes into position. Nanaira's expression blanked as she prepared for the battle ahead.


OOC: Just a short post, gotta run to class.

Samuel slowly made his way along the shoddily constructed wall that stood above the eastern gate of the town. His pace seemed normal; if a bit slow for the frantic panic on the top of the wall. Samuel would have moved faster, but his equilibrium begged him to carefully place his steps. Damn. I drank too much of that weak beer. Far from drunk, Samuel was inebriated enough that his balance was slightly off.

Spotting an unoccupied space along the wall Samuel put down his toolkit and clothes joining the dozen or so archers staring out into the darkness. From somewhere down the line a command was barked, “Make ready to fire!” The archers around him loaded their bows and drew them taunt. Samuel watched in stunned silence as their targets charged towards the soldiers gathered outside the gate below.

Torches scattered along the wall scattered flickering light among the darkness beyond the wall. At first, Samuel had simply thought the town was under attack. But, with each length the mounted attackers closed on the gate the torch light illuminated them more. Samuel’s shock grew as the twisted figures of what had once clearly been humans became more and more defined.

“FIRE!” A rain of arrows fell down upon the riders as the archers released their bowstrings. Numerous arrows found their marks, but only a handful of the demonic riders fell to the ground. The others seemed ignorant of the wooden shafts lodged in them and merely pressed their charge.

Samuel gripped the edge of the ramparts as he watched the pikemen held their ground as the riders crashed into the line. Sharpened pikes speared horse and demon alike as the riders continued to throw themselves at the line of humans. Between the thrashing horses and the blades of the thrown possessed humans the line of pikemen fell. The remnants of the first line retreated as the swordsmen moved forward to quickly dispatch the remaining demons.

A roar and thundering footsteps drew Samuel’s attention away from the melee below. Samuel found his breath caught in his throat as a large, fat humanoid clomped its way across the battlefield toward the small band of defenders. The huge monster was clad from head to toe in dark, metal armor. From somewhere a cry went up, “OGRE!” Several volleys of arrows flew from the wall toward the massive suit of walking armor, only to hit and clatter harmlessly to the ground.

Unhindered by pikes, the armored ogre slammed into the small group of swordsmen directly below him, sending several men flying as it swung its massive arms. Samuel could see the men below struggling in vain to pierce the heavy plate armor encasing the beast. A lithe elven female leapt upon the creature’s back and tried to work her blade in between some gaps in the plates. Nanaria? Samuel questioned as he caught a good look at the stubborn elf’s face. Her efforts were rewarded by a small grunt as the tip of her blade sunk a few inches into the ogre. The monster quickly spun about, throwing Nanaria off his back and into the very wall she was trying to defend.

Tossing human after human aside, the ogre waded his way to the wooden gate and began ramming his fists into it. Samuel watched as the great beast attempted to pound its way into the town. At the edge of the darkness Samuel could see hordes of figures waiting just beyond arrow range awaiting their ogre to open the gates. Glancing back at the town itself, he could see people running back and forth seeking shelter from the incoming horde of demons. Shaking his head, Samuel tried to clear the confusion and drink from it. What in the hell is going on? What are those things? A scream echoed from within the town. Crazy or not, these people don’t deserve to die. Samuel slammed his fist upon the wall, Stop standing here idiot! Do something!

Unholstering both revolvers, Samuel leaned over the wall and rapidly fired off five rounds at the orge below. Adrenaline helped counteract much of the alcohol in his system, but Samuel could tell its effects still lingered. “Damn it!” Normally, his every shot hit its mark, but the beer made his hands slow to respond to his command. Even with the alcohol, four of the bullets still found their mark, the beast’s armored left shoulder.

The monster roared as its armored helm swiveled up to glare at the gunman leaning over the wall. Samuel could not tell from here whether the bullets had pierced the armor. No telling how thick that stuff is. But seeing as the beast had moments ago ignored a hail of arrows without even acknowledging them, it’s reaction made Samuel think at least one shot made it through.

The beast resumed its attack on the door while Samuel tried to think of a way to bring the beast down. He could see the scattered swordsmen picking themselves off the ground. Samuel noticed Kalrion helping Nanaria to her feet. Soon the humans would try to attack the ogre again. Samuel’s gaze returned to the monster as the cracking and snapping of wood signified the ogre’s progress with the gate. As the creature raised its right arm to strike at the door again, Samuel grinned. Along the right side of the creature’s metal breastplate, two heavy buckles secured the chest piece in place.

The black revolver, only had one shot left, so Samuel holstered it and switched the other revolver to his right hand. With the ogre a good distance below him and being his reflex dulled, Samuel would need to use his dominate hand. Willing his arm to be still, Samuel forced the limb to behave exactly as he wanted and squeezed off a shot. Sparks flew as the bullet impacted, destroying one of the buckles securing the heavy armor. A second shot quickly removed the remaining buckle.

Samuel watched with smug satisfaction as the beast’s chest armor began to jar itself open with every punch it landed on the door. With a sudden screech of metal, the armor fell off the beast, hanging limply from the ogre’s left arm. Dumbfounded, the creature stood staring at it’s now exposed chest.

Still leaning over the wall, Samuel began to laughing at the monster. Turning his head to the archer beside him Samuel continued to smile. “I love being this good. I mean, hardly anyone could have made those shots, and I’m half-drunk!”

“INCOMING!” Samuel looked back down to see a corpse flying through the air towards him. As the dead human collided with Samuel, the laughter of the ogre down below filled his ears.

As Nanaira flew through the air she readjusted her position to keep herself from hurting anything serious, having ridden high-spirited horses most of her life had taught her how to fall or in this case fly in the right way. She grunted as she hit the wall, the air knocked out of her. She used her sword as a crutch and stood up, eyes watering as she caught her breath. Kalrion grabbed her arm hauling her up to full height. She nodded at his worried eyes. She was fine. Her eyes narrowed as something hit buckle of the ogre's armor, she traced the direction of the shot with her eyes and found herself to be looking up at Samuel. A frown twisted at her lips. Great, so he had a reason to be arrogant. Bloody fantastic. The ogre heaved a corpse at its feet at Samuel. It connected. Nanaira hoped it didn't the man, though he annoyed the hell out of her.

She turned back to Kalrion, gesturing quickly. He nodded. They took off in different directions. The ogre had taken to attacking the gates again. Kalrion ran towards, sword in hand. He scored a light blow on the ogre's side, without the armor the sword bit through the flesh of the ogre. It roared, flinging wide handed slap at Kalrion, who dance back and ran away a couple steps. The ogre recognized the cause of its pain. His sword dripped green blood. A smile tugged at human's lips. The ogre roared again setting after Kalrion. So focused on its victim it didn't notice a small lithe figure darting in from behind Kalrion. The ogre swung its club at the human. Nanaira slipped under the ogre's guard. Switching the grip on her sword, she leapt driving it home into its chest. The ogre yelled again. She twisted upward aiming for the heart. The ogre tried to grab her, she let go of the sword, dropping to the ground and running between its legs. As the ogre swung around to go after Nanaira, Kalrion scored another hit of the ogre's side. It turned around to face its other tormentor. The Elvan woman climbed up the ogre's back unnoticed, finally she stood on its shoulders. She pulled a dagger out, leaned forward and stabbed it into an eye. She jumped off the ogre immediately. Kalrion grabbed the sword in the ogre's chest twisting it, then yanking it free. A gush of blood spilled out. The sword had struck true. Now that the impediment had been removed the heart could no long beat fully. The ogre gurgled. Nanaira rejoined Kalrion. The ogre staggered back a couple steps, then collapsed backwards. A purple tongue bathed in green froth protruded from its lips. Nanaira retrieved her dagger from its eye. The pair rejoined the rest of the fighting.




When the battle was over, the town still stood. Both Nanaira and Kalrion bled from about a dozen small scratches but nothing serious. This wasn't the worst scrap they had been in. Nanaira had a big bruise forming on her back, which would making sleeping difficult, but she was grateful their wounds were no worse. Nanaira reentered the town with an injured man's arm over her shoulder. She helped him in where the aid workers were rushing the injured off to medical care. She felt the man's weight lifted.

"We'll take it from here." Nanaira muttered a thanks and looked for Kalrion. She found him waiting in front of the bar.

"Have you seen Trinmon?

"Not yet."

"Look, I'm planning to go after that man who abducted Syiana Rue Ishcyiel. I want you to see if you can convince Trinmon to go with you to Ti'Lethan. It'll be safe for him there. You should be able to get one of the circle to see him." She chuckled bitterly. "At least you should be able to discuss him when one them is interrogating you about my whereabouts. I'll bring the unician to Ti'Lethan once I get her back. I'll leave tomorrow morning." Kalrion sighed, closing his eyes. It was no use arguing with her, she had that stubborn look in her eyes. She looked away. "Kal, I have to go after her. If she is who we think she is and if something happens to her... What hope can either of us have." He sighed.

"Don't get yourself killed or your father will tan my hide." She smiled, nodding.

[ Vidula ]


Vidula sighed quietly feeling unwilling to deal with the stupidity that is Graelam and the other lords of the elven wood. As enough time passed with fingers curled against porcelain cups that were filled and refilled over numerous occasions as she sat in the cozy alcove. Soon after her ten cups of tea and kaluha Vidula rose from the warmed chair of plush velvets and silk to break free of the trend of having many cups of a certain beverage. This incited a frown from the female maid that served her over and over again but Vidula felt she had better things to do than lounge around, get fat off of sugared drinks and have idle chitchat with dressed up ladies waiting for their husbands. Elven nobility were well informed about their world but they were different from middle class to poor elves who were more intone with the earth than the high class. She felt vindictive over the subject how one class changed from the increased interaction with humans to another that did not trust the round eared folk that at times ruined their lives. Soon pools of slate searched for her handy little carpetbag, there was nothing magically imbued about it the bag was just something that she held close to her as if it were a life raft. Frustration that metamorphosed in to sadness when the bag became increasingly harder to find along the hallway she took. Soon the twinkle of shell, and brass caught the corner of her glassy eye. There was her bag perched easily on a deep windowsill; against the decaying sun surely it had captured much warmth. Soon Vidula made her way over to the sill that was over shadowed by an clay potted fern from the lower valleys of the elven wood. Fingers twitched sending warm shivers up her spine and arms knowing she wouldn’t be able to go on an excursion later since the thunderstorm was rolling down from the mountains. Soon arms were filled with the large carpetbag with personal modifications, if she wanted to go for a walk to collect herbs and other things she better go now. Soon enough her hand laced with the bag handles gripping it tightly till it felt like blood could not flow in her digits.

Lips pursed and brown wrinkled as the roll of thunder began edging closer; soon feet created friction with the flooring as soon she bee lined for the front door. Something did not feel like it should of, as if some one was here from a different world. That feeling settled in her belly like a lion with its pride, soon Vidula flicked that off her shoulder like smoldering ash from a Hookah bar. Hair swayed in a thick waterfall of twilight silk, rippling in unseen breezes as the curvy body pushed past scowling female maids and staring guests. A perfect natural in the human art of belly dancing as the folds of her odd dress roved over thick thigh muscles. Her bag only rubbed against her left leg easily as those oak carven doors were reached, pressing her hand on to a gilded handle. As it clicked open noises of the meeting adjourned resonated though scalloped halls, this only brought grimace to her face that she needed to make a quick exit or be caught by the ever-doting lord of the manor. Vidula swore that man was bitten by something or took a drug regularly to make him over passionate and pleased about everything. But there were rumors when he got mad, it was terrifying as if they were to describe him as a dragon protecting a nest or horde of valuables. A shake of her head cleared that image of Graelam’s face on a dragon’s body for it would start to make her laugh which would insert alertness from the lordship himself of her nearby presence. Soon sunshine poured in to the grand hall as if some one was bringing in light to a dank dungeon that humans held on their castle grounds and off she went not in a sprint oh no that would make her look like she was a child or some type of convict running from a problem than facing it. Long loping strides made her glide over compacted road and then soft turf in to the hollow of trees where patches of clover and fallen leaves took residence with other flora that was local to the region. Soon she would begin her search for herbs to take and dry and other things used in basic to advanced alchemy as dry to drying leaves crunched under her boots as she picked her way over a fallen log that was hollowed out from animals and insects.

Sweat began to bead her forehead even after she took her headband off, feeling as if it were giving her a headache that was nary the case. Soon Vidula stopped between tick ash trees hoping the band of cloth around her neck. Soon bending over with hair tussling down wards in a luxurious waterfall of pale thread only to have a band of textile pushed up neatly behind her heads and back with the thicket of tendrils. That was the problem with long and arduous hair it took forever to wash or brush it and it always seemed to be heavy, thick or just every where. But She liked it long than short like some of the other noble to poor females because even though there was less hair to deal with she could just pull it off her face or wrap it in to a bun or a braid. Unlike them who used clips that usually fell out of place to hold it back. This nitpicking thoughts were trivial to what she was searching for as soon she came upon a batch of peppermint that was trying to take over a hedge of wolfs bane. Soon her digits were picking at the leaves and sprigs of both plants finding it undubiously lucky to find two herbs in one place which out facing some sort of angered creature. The items she obtained were quickly placed in to a smaller bag that would it inside her larger odder carpetbag soon the entire bag would smell of earth and medley of herbs. Soon her mind wandered taking enough samples or more for ingredients from those two to move on to the next picking up some soil that was under a large almost melting rock that was deposited into a small vial at her hip. Something in the area didn’t seem to fit, as if there were a magical surge from some type of person or Thing. Vidula felt extremely uneasy like a newly captured rabbit by a hunter but she pressed on through the forest that was ever changing. Ever changing as in plant types and climates it seemed the soil and the area where the elves picked to live and brood in were laced with older magic’s of the past something many did not understand and blamed to be the work of a so called ‘devil’ As feet crunched along, there was a sickening snap of a twig underfoot sending shivers through her nervous system which was uncalled for as she came upon a more to an area that was weedy as if some one lived there and forgotten to tend was Artemisia vulgari (mugwort) were said to grow.


Her little trek from the wolfs bane and peppermint to Artemisia vulgaris (Mugwort) herbs took at the least fifteen minutes to complete, as she did not mind the constant over shadowing of clouds and rumple of them clashing signaling rainfall. Soon the little trip would have to be made quicker as they came up into a rainier season than before but luckily the rain was warm and the breezes with it balmy enough for a traveler to stand. As soon knees became enshrouded in the odd herb used for many things such as Smoking, food, herbal medicines and poisons. Vidula figured her trek would take her a couple of days to gather herbs, spices, earthly matierals and items for her alchemy . this would take a lot of trips to and from her older cabin which became more a store house to these items, it was useful since now she was forced to take residence in the same home as the residential lord Graelam. The wind began to tickle her nose causing a sneeze and sending germs into the air as her mind began calculating herbs and items to obtain during her first trek. Fingeres easily ruffled over the mugwort growning on the rudges of plowed soil left to waste plucking out healthy sprigs of this taking it in larger bundles than wolfs bane and pepper mint to dry for smoking for there was profit in that venture. Her list of herbs came out to be: Ajwain, angelica, Bacopa monnieri, Boldo, Berberis, Eupatorium, Sweet Grass, cloves and etc . As she bundled up the mugwort using the fibers of one of their own and stuffing it in to the bag with out much adieu. Vidula roved over rocks and hills without much notic to the change in land as tress rushed with upper wings that only could send down breezes past the feather boughts of pine and oak. A slender hand rested upon a thick tree up top a sloping hill only to have her glassy eyes peel open and become alert at the sight of a slain gryphon in a pool of blood, its cub and a odd man of flaming hair and wings.

Soon anger that flashed with concern as her body slid down the hill side like a snow boarder or a skier, tumbling rocks and loose soil wither mowing over clover and saplings. This toggled a jump on to the flat surface the male stood upon coming up behind him with a panting breath the bag jostled in the corner of her elbow but soon as this was over she was recomposed boring holes at the man. Given enough incentive to place on her odd gloves that were given by her bag just in case she needed to defend her self if the man was the killer. Her vocals perched like swallows singing a song learning out conversation for the odd man.

“What happened here?”

The Gemini Palace of Ti'Lethan was counted as one of the four great structures of Luriean, alongside Círbann of El'Lerione, the destroyed Azure Citadel of Ti'Meril, and Boulder Fortress at the old Border that now lay in ruins. After the Invasion, only the former two were left, and elves of El'Lerione did not encourage visitors, so the Palace became the only one left that people could lay their eyes on with wonderment.

The Palace was actually a pair of buildings built on and into the opposite sides of the Mount Lethan, the second smallest and the central mountain of the Diosuroi mountain range. Built one after another, the two castle-like buildings constructed using granite were almost identical on the outside and similar to some degree on the inside. And they were connected together by long external walkways, mountain tunnels and large underground halls that were used only by the inhabitants of both buildings.

The western Pollux Tower, with beautiful spires of rainbow colored tiles, was also known by its more popular name, the Tower of Sorcery. It faced the great river Parle, the ports and the commercial areas of Ti'Lethan, and quickly became where the High Council of Sorcerors hosted their meetings and many magical researches. When the Twilight Prophet foresaw the destruction of the Tower of Seers at Mount Draca, the seers escaped not a moment too soon, and the Prophet accepted the sorcerors' invitation to become fellow residents.

Built first and as the home of Ti'Lethan rulers, the heavily fortified eastern Castor Castle had embattled parapet for its towers and castle wall, unlike its younger twin. From his view out of the hall's windows from the second storey of the keep, King Celurie Merieon cast his eyes towards the two great circular walls standing at the edge of the city, a long way beyond the Cathedral of Ran'Diel. As he swept his gaze over the city he ruled, his attention was eventually drawn to the thirty six towers were being built along and inside the city, at various seemingly random locations and near completion.

A grave look touched his face and made the years behind his wrinkles more apparent, as he remembered what had prompted him to have those towers constructed. He was still uncertain if it was a wise decision, but only the future could answer that question. Exhaling a soft sigh that expressed only a small portion of the worry in his heart, he let his eyes wander, and ended up watching the first rays of the morning gently illuminate the City Circle.

His lips curved minutely, as he remembered the Blessing he had witnessed on the previous day. It was one of the best he witnessed in all five decades of his life, and he sincerely hoped that the year would be better, and the gloomy situation that the world had been shrouded in for too many years would improve.

"Your Majesty, the Twilight Prophet and Grand Duke Sorihn Yurien of the dragons have arrived. They are now waiting in your private study."

"Sorihn is here as well?" Surprise was apparent in the way his blue eyes widened, and he turned away from the window quickly. His blu-ish gray garment with a distinct similarity to the style of the sorceror's robes swept behind him as he left the hall with quick but sure steps.

Without bothering to wait for the guards at the door to announce his arrival, he entered the relatively cozy room with a wide smile set on his face. "I didn't expect you to be here, Sorihn. What brought you all the way here from Mount Dubrien? How fares King Perlein and the rest of your clan? Have you found your lost ones?"

"One at a time, Celurie. You and your questions, never changed even after you grew out of childhood." Amusement shone in the black eyes of the blue-haired man, as he pushed his slender form away from the window he was looking out of. Dressed in his dark-blue sorceror robes, Sorihn appeared to be every bit the royal magical tutor that that the King remembered him to be when he was just a young prince.

Not for the first time, Celurie envied the way years did not leave their marks on the other races as clearly as they did on humans, at least, not in any way he could tell. Judging by the color of the rune mark on the forehead, the only way to identify a dragon in his human form, Sorihn was at least three hundred years old. But much to the King's distress, the Grand Duke in the human form looked barely old enough to be his son, even though Celurie knew that Sorihn was there when his father was being born.

"One is unable to picture His Majesty as an inquisitive child, but one must admit that the traits are indeed apparent." The second figure in the room was that of a golden-haired pubescent child drabbed in a simple white cowl, sitting quietly on the chair with his hands folded politely on his lap. His expression was tranquil, and his clear golden eyes were as mysterious as ever, leaving the curve of his mouth revealing his mirth.

"Not you too, Prophet." Celurie shooked his head as he eased himself into his high-backed chair across the table from where Reiane was seated. His expression was serious when his gaze felt onto the two of them again. "Seriously, what brought you here, Sorihn? I can phantom a guess that Reiane has some very bad news for me, and if yours is good news, I want to be able to muster some happiness for it."

"Actually, that is a good policy to follow." The dragon noble tugged his thick waist length braid over one shoulder, and folded his arms across his chest as he leaned back against a wall. "King Perlein and my kinsmen are doing as fine as the times allow. We actually found four of our lost family members, so we are searching for the last two. However, I'm not here for my kind, but for the High Council."

The ruler of Ti'Lethan sighed. "You wouldn't need to go through all this trouble if all of you hadn't vote me off the Circle temporarily. While I appreciate all of your considerations, it is terribly inconvenient. What is so urgent a matter that you have to tell me personally?"

"The Roles from past and present have arrived." Sorihn answered solemnly. He continued after the king recovered from his surprise. "We didn't think that we would have felt it, but some of us and a few other high sorcerors sensed a great disturbance in the elements the night before last. We were unable to determine their positions, but it could be because of a strong magical interference. Our guess is that the Archmages combined their powers and blocked us."

Celurie slammed his fist against the table surface. "Damn those foul mages!"

"We felt the same way. But they must have been ordered by the Demon Lord. As far as I know, Verkase keeps his pet magicians on a very short leash. Apparently he can't forget losing the one battle at Ti'Valmes because his mages on the field burned out and couldn't counter our spells."

"That would mean that Verkase knows as well." Celurie rubbed at his eyes tiredly. "This isn't good. He wouldn't have acted if he didn't think they will be a threat to him. He will do everything he can to find and stop them from fulfilling the Words of Hope."

"Your Majesty has spoken correctly." Reiane had been quietly listening to them, but now he spoke. "The attacks on the border towns had lessened significantly while the Demon Lord was waiting for the arrival of the Roles. But it will not remain that way, now that they have arrived..."

Sorihn was the first to notice the undertones of the seer's words. "Could it be... Prophet, have you Seen something?"

The Twilight Prophet closed his eyes and nodded gravely. Sorrow clouded his eyes as he gazed straight at the eyes of Celurie Merieon.

"By the end of the week... Ti'Aurthan will fall."

[OOC: I'm so sorry that I couldn't get Syiana's part out as well. If I were to do that, I won't be able to post until a few days later, especially since I may not be free tomorrow and the day before. Timmers, can you do me a favour and describe the ruins of Nil'Noere? I think it will be better if she woke up in the ruins itself. I will still follow what we discussed in my next post.]

Darkness; Samuel was lost in pure darkness. No thoughts, no sounds, just emptiness. With a brilliant explosion Samuel’s world transformed from black to white hot pain. While the pain thought returned, but it was as if trudging through muck. The pain dulled to an intense ache, but the darkness remained. Samuel heard a female voice in the darkness. “..care. Just help me carry him!” The world lit up briefly as Samuel instinctively opened his eyes. Cobblestones floated beneath him and flowed past his legs. He was being dragged somewhere. The world began swimming, and Samuel sunk back into the black depths of unconsciousness.

This time the darkness was replaced by dreams. Meaningless images and events flew by, soon to be forgotten. But the dreams took on a sense of solidity as Samuel found himself staring at the temple of Ran’Diel, or to be more specific, the disturbing image of the entrance building he had seen earlier that day. The image refused to leave, no matter what he did. The host of questions he had suppressed earlier came flooding into his sleeping mind. Where is the rest of the building? Was it destroyed? Is this a replica? Has it not been built yet? The last question brought the entire world to a halt.

Samuel’s eyes snapped open and he sat straight up. Not been built yet?!? The revelation was buried instantly under a mountain of pain. “OOOWW!” Samuel’s head felt as if it was splitting in half. As he reflexively grabbed the side of his head he felt bandages. Slowly, memories retuned.

Samuel had just blasted away the buckles on the creature’s armor. Then, that body collided with him. The last thing he could recall for sure was falling backwards. “Must have hit my head.” His suspicions were confirmed with a wince as he gingerly touched the back of his head.

Finished with himself, Samuel turned his attention to his surroundings. It was a small, sparsely furnished room. Most likely a room at an inn or something. “A run down inn.” He commented to himself as he continued to survey the room. Neatly piled beside the bed were all of his belongings, including his toolkit and clothes. Whoever had taken him to this room had taken the effort to bring his stuff. The throbbing in his head seemed to increase as Samuel looked out the window at the first rays of sunlight filtered in. Samuel slowly shook his head. Lying back down, Samuel rolled over and commented aloud, weariness in his voice. “I’ll figure it out later.” As he drifted back into sleep one word repeated itself over and over again in his mind. “Ti'Lethan”

*-*
Earlier that night

A group of demons huddled around a campfire. Their small group separate from the from the main force of demons that sat encamped outside of Ti’Aurthan. A shadow approached the outcasts. An orc turned his head to watch the approaching figure, “Was it a success?”

“Yes,” A female voice replied. The figure still enshrouded in shadows. “the suggestion has been implanted.”

(OCC:

Let me know if anything needs to be changed. Too much foreshadowing?
And yes, more will be explained later.

Sorry for the short post, but it has been a busy weekend.)

OOC: sorry for the absence, finally Fall term is over!


Nanaira awoke. A delicate hand rubbed away the sleep from her eyes. She stared at the ceiling for a moment, the dingy wooden boards similar to many inns she had stayed at in the last year or so. She sat up, the sheets pooling around her waist. Pain flowed down her back, she slowly slipped a hand behind her to touch it. A bruise, raised a bit. Getting flung into the wall by that ogre had its repercussions. She cursed. Well, it was nothing she couldn't tolerate, though it would make riding more painful than usual. Nanaira climbed out of the bed and started her morning rituals. Long hair was an annoyance. Her little sister would never let her cut it after it had grown out of her childhood bob. A smile curved her lips. Jessamy had perhaps wanted to keep some of the few feminine traits Nanaira had left. She tied the hair back and reached for the cloth she used to bind her chest. Her current set of leathers were too small for her. She had gotten used to it, however she did miss having her armor custom made. Nanaira struggled as she put on her leathers, she kept her pony tail underneath the clothes where it would be out of the way. After she belted on her sword and got her boots on, she prepared her things for travel. It was time to find out about the man who had abducted the unician.

She started at the tavern they had been at the previous night. One of the barmaids that had worked that night was still there. The tavern was mostly empty at this time in the morning, though a couple guards were drinking away their battle pains. Nanaira casually took a seat at one of the tables and beckoned the barmaid with a finger. Two of the guards looked her over from head to toes, then insultingly turned away disinterested. Better that than constantly having to ward off advances, she thought to herself.

"Last night, there was an unusual woman that came in with me. She was sitting next to a man in a blue cloak, brown-hair?" Nanaira queried the barmaid.

"Oh, that was Fernand." She gave the barmaid an unenlightened raise of a brow, the woman blinked then continued. "Fernard is a mercenary spellsword. He's been working here for a while, though he just got back from some errand the mayor sent him on...I think." The young woman frowned slightly to herself. "Why do you want to know about him anyways?"

"The woman he was with last night is missing, you don't know happen to know where he stays while in town do you?" she smiled vaguely, then slid two copper coins to the barmaid.

"The Inn is just a couple buildings down, thata way." The woman tilted her head in the direction. Nanaira rose and walked out of the tavern without another word.



A woman in her thirties was tending the Inn's front desk. Nanaira placed a light hand the desk with a weary smile. The older woman smiled at her warmly in return.

"Can I help you?"

"I'm looking for someone. His name is Fernand, I was told he was staying here. One of my companions was last seen in his company and I haven't heard from her since. I have it on good authority that neither of them of them were involved in the fighting last night." The woman twisted her lips into a worried frown.

"Actually, I have had some concerns as well. He hasn't returned since yesterday and his horse is missing from the stables, yet his things are still in the room." The elf sighed heavily.

"I was fearing that you might say something like that." The Innkeeper looked up startled.

"Fernand is a good man, I would not believe him capable of harming your friend."

"I'll keep that in mind," she said, bowing politely and left. She made tracks for the Southern gate. The gate was opposite the one from which the town was attacked. It made logical sense that someone wanting to avoid conflict would take the gate where the demons were not attacking.


Her questioning of the guards there confirmed that Fernand had left the town by those gates and that he was carrying someone else with him. She found out that he also had not been carrying any supplies. The latter concerned her since few people would wander out into the wilderness without supplies unless they were expecting to meet someone along the way. Nanaira would now have to go after that man but she still lacked supplies herself.


The mayor was looking harried and his face was one that did not carry stress well.

"I see so Fernand is missing and he abducted the supposedly Unician woman. Odd taste in women."

"Further more, I am questioning his state of mind, since he left all his gear in his room."

"Left all his gear behind, you say." The mayor frowned and called down the hallway to a man and delivered a set of orders.

"I need to hunt them down and ensure the safety of the woman. I'll need another horse to carry supplies. My companion will be taking Samuel Trinmon to Ti'Lethan, he will also need another horse and supplies." The mayor shook his head sighing.

"The town can't afford to pay for ventures having nothing to do with us." Nanaira stood up and slammed her hands down on his desk.

"Dammit! Can't you see what's in front of your bloody eyes. The extinction may have been a couple human generations ago, but for us, elves it is still well within our life span. I know what an Unician looks like and she is one. It is extremely unlikely that one survived the extinction somehow, there is a good chance she is one of the Roles from the past. If she is, we damn well want her alive. Otherwise, what hope do we have for the future. Speaking of the future, the man called Samuel has a weapon I haven't seen the likes of despite the fact I keep abreast of weaponry development. It is worth the expense if only to bring them to The Circle's to see if they are Roles. You might even get rewarded for doing such." The mayor had leaned back when she rose and was now eyeing her with surprise for her vehement outburst. The man the mayor had instructed before, had returned and whispered something in the mayor's ear.

"Well," he said slowly. Nanaira glared at him. "It seems that Fernand has not picked up his money at the bank either. Since he has posed such an imposition on you, perhaps we might enact a fee from his account to pay for the expenses related to your retrieval of the woman and your partner's efforts to take the man to Ti'Lethan," he suggested with a half-smile, that Nanaira did not care for.

"That works for me," she said, not caring where the money came from. "If need be, I'll reimburse you or him, when I get back to El'Lerione. I have my own account there." The mayor raised his brow as if doubting her, but none the less seemed to be relieved to be rid of her.

"I'll make sure that you have the supplies you need."



Elka sniffed at the old droppings. They were not desiccated yet and fairly fresh. She must be on the right trail. The horse turned her head in Nanaira's direction, who gave it shove back, then mounted up again. The Unician's staff was situated on her pack animal as well as the spellsword's goods. The owner of the Inn had been reluctant to give Fernand's things up to her and had only done so once Nanaira had sworn not to kill the man. She had said a brief good bye to Kalrion, who waiting for Samuel to wake up. After traveling a short distance outside the town, she had seen the tracks of the Fernand's horse. The man was traveling with just one horse and it would be slow going, no doubt, with two riders. She was confident she could catch up. She had no idea of the man's motives, going into demon's land and all.

EMERY
(Uh, let’s just say he’s reading… I can’t think of anything else for him at this time)

RHYS

For some time, Rhys felt like he was in a surreal dream world. He found himself puzzling over the strangeness of waking with no memory of how he had gotten here. He knew he hadn’t been that drunk at the time. He KNEW he hadn’t. The sight of the dead mother brought back to him a rush of images he wished he could forget. But, he was snapped out of his reverie by the young griffin, whose head shot up upon hearing something.

Rhys heard it, too; a strange noise, almost like something was skidding down a hill. When he looked up, he indeed saw some strange woman sliding down the hill at him. He immediately stood up, moving his spear to his other hand so that he could fight if the need arose. The woman looked seriously pissed off, and Rhys could see why. She obviously thought that he was responsible for the death of the mother griffin. Then she said in an obviously tight and angry voice, “What happened here?”

“Hey there!” Rhys said in his most cheerful, nice guy voice. He even raised his free hand in greeting, trying to alleviate any suspicions. The small griffin pressed itself next to Rhys’s leg, which surprised him. Creatures usually weren’t all that friendly with strangers… Of course, as Rhys had seen, the little guy had a reason… Rhys wondered how the mother griffin had come to be here. She was probably chased into the forest by a damn demon.

The woman still didn’t look very happy. In fact, Rhys thought he saw her eyes narrow at his callous attitude.

“I can’t tell you what happened,” Rhys told her. “Because I had nothing to do with it. I…got lost, and I ended up in this forest. I fell asleep, and when I woke up, this little guy here,” Rhys indicated the shivering griffin pressed against his leg. The griffin looked up at him with big wet black eyes, so Rhys had to kneel down to pet him. He was too cute to ignore! “Ahem! Anyway… So, he…or she. It led me to this… And… I… If you don’t believe me, you can try a truth spell.” His eyes lit up. “And maybe you could find out how I got here!”

He rushed forward, eyes now bright with the possibility of finding out where he was and how he’d gotten here. Just as he took a step forward, however, an arrow fast as lightning had pierced the ground in front of him, having come from somewhere in the trees. Rhys stopped in his tracks, looking up in surprise. “What the hell…?”


(OOC: I'm very sorry it's so short and rushed, but I'm being nagged to get off the computer and I wanted to have SOMETHING for poor Hoodie to work off of. You can come up with the reason for the arrow from the trees... I'm just getting bored of how little is going on in my posts... Action!)

((Would you mind if I came up with a reason? If you do, I'll delete/edit this post))

"Oh, sorry! Sorry!" A boy yelled, emerging from behind the grove, "I was out hunting and I saw some movement...so I shot at it, I'm so sorry!" The boy bowed repeatedly, his face wet with tears and bright red from blushing. Lifting his head after his twentieth or so apology, the boy wiped away his tears and stuttered, "M-My name's Abel, I'm v-very sorry for the trouble I've caused; please forigive me!"

"N-No, I'm sorry, that's s-selfish of me..." Abel sniffled, the single eye that wasn't covered with an eyepatch started to water yet again, "Please punish me as you see fit!" He pleaded towards the two, dropping his bow and stretching his amrs wide. Abel closed his eyes and lowered his head in defeat, preparing himself for a harsh and violent punishment in order to redeem himself.

"...What are you doing now?" A voice asked, although it knew completely well his situation.
"I-I'm..." Abel stuttered even in his thoughts, "...apologising,"
"If you're going to apologise, then why not apologise for being such a bad shot? You did miss them afterall," The voice shot back with an arrogant tone,
"B-Because...WAAAHHH!! You're mean, Adel!"
"Crybaby, do whatever you want," Adel sneered and refused to continue talking with his twin.

Abel stiffled a wail from bursting out in his physical body and slowly opened his single wet eye. The pain hadn't come and it had been awhile, so Abel was feeling a little anxious. "Um, miss, mister...are you going to hurt me?"

((Short I know, but I need to get going))

Slowly making his way up the stairs Kalrion sighed. All the money Nanaria had given him was already gone. A mount for Samuel, rations, and the bill for the rooms at the inn; Nanaria must have counted it out ahead of time. So much for another drink with that lovely bar wench.

Opening the door to Samuel’s room Kalrion was surprised to see the man awake. He was still dressed finely, but no longer that strange black and white outfit from yesterday. The bandages wrapping his head provided an odd contrast with his expensive clothing.

Seated at a table in the room Samuel was pouring a small amount of black powder into a tiny metal cup. Then Samuel placed a small, slightly elongated ball on top of the metal cup. Without looking, Samuel grabbed a tool reminiscent of a wench sitting beside him. Putting the cup and ball into the metal pincers of the tool he squeezed and forced the ball into the cup. Holding up the now singular entity between his thumb and forefinger, Samuel grunted in approval and placed the object next to a neat line of other identical looking ones on the table.

Kalrion cleared his throat. Apparently surprised, Samuel nearly jumped out of his seat.

“Sorry.” Kalrion chuckled. “You seem well for someone who took a nasty blow to the head.”

Regaining his composure, Samuel turned around and addressed Kalrion. “It will take a lot more to stop me.” Kalrion noted the man’s ego was not as bruised as his head. “Though thanks for dragging me here.” Samuel grabbed a sandwich off a plate on the table.

A brief look of concern flashed across Kalrion’s face. “Nanaria and I did not bring you here.” Samuel casually took a bite of his sandwich as he listened. “when we came back to grab our things , the inn keeper told us you were here. I was about to go scour the city for you and you just happened to be here.”

Samuel swallowed. “Where is Nanaria? I am surprised she is not here rubbing the ‘demons’ from last night in my face.”

Kalrion laughed. “I imagine she would be. But, she has left in search of Miss Syiana.”

“Oh yeah.” Samuel paused. “You never found her last night?”

“No. Nanaria found out that the man from last night, Fernand, left town with her.”

“So why are you here?” Samuel asked taking another bite of his sandwich.

“Nanaria, asked me to take you to Ti'Lethan.“

“Alright.”

Kalrion was struck silent. He had prepared himself for an argument and a fight if necessary. But, against all expectations, Samuel had just agreed. “I’m sorry, what?”

“Let’s go.” Samuel said with a shrug. Seeing the confusion on Kalrion’s face Samuel continued. “I’ve wanted to leave since we got here. Just let me gather my things and pay my bill.”

Kalrion snapped out of his confusion. “I already paid for your room.”

“Yeah,” Samuel said as he finished the last bite his food. “But I need to pay for everything else.”

Worry washed over Kalrion. “’everything else’?”

Pointing at the empty plate Samuel explained. “Well my breakfast, some snacks,” Motioning to the bed stand, he drew Kalrion’s attention to a bottle. “that bottle of wine, plus I got my clothes cleaned, and I had someone run out and buy me a knapsack so I wouldn’t have to carry everything in my hands.”

The blood drained from Kalrion’s face. He had only left the man alone for a few hours! Yet, Samuel had managed to probably spend more than Nanaria had given him, and that was already spent!

“What?” Samuel asked, Kalrion’s distress obvious.

“We can’t afford this stuff. I spent all our money on provisions already!”

Calmly. Samuel reached into his pocket and retrieved a small pouch. A small flick of the wrist sent the pouch flying toward Kalrion. The jiggle of coins emanated from the bag and Kalrion picked it out of the air. “I do not expect others to pay for my debts.” The undertone of his voice indicating he was angry at the insinuation he had not planned on paying for himself.

Kalrion’s face relaxed as he opened the pouch and poured out a few coins. The relief was short lived however. “What are these?”

“Imperial coins of the realm.“ Samuel answered incredulously.

“What realm? No one is going to accept these!”

Samuel jutted out his lower jaw and took a sharp breath. “I had not thought of that.”

Kalrion threw the pouch on the bed and put his hand to his head. Right back to where we started. What am I going to do? Oh I can hear Nanaria now. “I guess we just go back to the mayor and …”

Samuel interrupted. “Come on.” He scooped the bullets off the table and dropped them into his left coat pocket. Standing up Samuel grinned devilishly at Kalrion. “I have an idea.”

(OCC

Sorry about the quality and the shortness. I plan on making another post soon to finish up this “scene”. Yes, Samuel agreed way to fast, but that is what the end of my last post was about )

Smoke tickled her nostrils and in her sleep-filled mind, she wondered if her mother was cooking. It was not exactly a common occurrence, but once in ten years, Shizu would burn a meal or two. Then when the smell became stronger, Syiana felt that something was wrong and snapped to awareness.

She was not sure why but the sight of her room brought her immense relief, and before she could explore that strange thought more, she noticed that smoke filtered into the room through her window facing the streets, not through her open room door. Alarmed, she jumped out of her bed, disregarding if her attire was proper or not, and headed for her staff. If there was a fire or something much worse happening, she wanted to be able to help immediately.

Except she could not touch her staff. Or the wall. Her hands went right through as though they were all items of illusion.

She could not touch anything.

Stunned, she stepped back to sit on her bed, but instead, she fell right through and impacted the floor solidly with her bottoms. Fear gripped her heart as she scuttled up, uncharacteristically yelling for her mother as she ran all around the house. As a member of the Circle, Shizu would know what happened to her and what to do.

But she could not find her mother anywhere. Not in the kitchen, her bedroom, or even in the study where everything looked exactly like how her mother had left to cook the meal. What about outside? Shizu could have gone out to get some ingredients that were all used up, could she not?

Syiana rushed out of the house, and headed for the street. She did not get very far when she spotted the source of the smoke, and she could only stand there and watch in horror. The houses and shops were all on fire and everyone was running about, screaming and crying.

"The palace! The palace!!" Someone near her yelled and pointed to the general area behind Syiana, and she turned back. The sight of the flames rising along with pure white marble palace and the horrible screams coming from it, and from all around her, brought Syiana to her knees, as her wide turquoise eyes took in destruction of everything she had lived for.

"Lady Syiana... help me... help mother... Lady Syiana! Mother!!"

Eirea!

The girl's desperate cries jerked her back to attention and led her running towards the bakery which, like every other building, was shrouded by a relentless inferno. The young Unician child laid at the door, her silver hair spread all around her in disarray and streams of tears running down her cheeks. Her legs were bleeding from terrible wounds and yet she still stretched a hand outwards, yelling for others to help her mother who was trapped inside.

"Eirea! Dear Vie'Neria, what is happening?!" Syiana half-knelt in front of the girl, and bit her lower lip. Fighting to ignore the despair threatening to choke her heart, she concentrated on finding her magical source while offering a prayer to Vie'Neria and Rew'Lipen both. It was more tedious without her staff as a focus, but she could use magic without it. It would be more unstable, but she was not going to care about that at a time like this.

But she reached into her soul, and could find nothing. No magical source. Nothing

Eirea wept brokenly as she tried to move forward. "Lady Syiana... help me... why are you not here..."

"I am here, Eirea! Please... stop moving and calm down, I'll help you out..." She reached out touch Eirea, to hug her and calm the girl, but her hand went right through again. Tears began streaking down her face as she took deep breaths to calm her panic. She repeated the process, praying even more fervently.

But still... there was nothing.

Weeping, she tried again to touch the Unician girl, and failed once more. Again, she could only watch helplessly as the child she treated like a sister muttered pleas of help. "Eirea... Eirea..."

"Lady Syiana... why did you leave us... why didn't you stay... for my birthday... you said... you were going to give me... give me my present..."

Each word was like a sharp spear, piercing into Syiana's heart over and over, and she dug her fingernails into her palm, shaking her head vehemently as she tried to use magic again and again. Again and again, she failed, and her nails drew blood as she squeezed her fists together tighter. Eirea was fading away... she had to save her as soon as possible...

Just when she felt a flickering of the source that she had not been able to find, and felt a single flame of hope, Eirea suddenly screamed and burst into flames. All around, the high-pitched shrieks joined in like a grotesque musical as people, running or writhing or dead, were devoured by vicious bonfires. Before Syiana's stunned self, the girl she loved and joked and played with, screamed and screamed.

Unable to take it anymore, Syiana cupped her ears and started screaming her heart out.

Fernand had set up a small camp along the broken and ancient highway that once led to the Ruins of Nil’Noere, but now just stretched out to an unmarked stop where the road was so overgrown with moss and grass that it completely disappeared. From there, the way to Nil’Noere could only be found by a good tracker, or in Fernand’s case, if he had happened to have been there before.

He was in demonic territory, although it didn’t really show very much. The land looked much the same as on the other side of the border that humans controlled, but there was a faint chill in the air that cut into the bone. Many soldiers called it the Breath of Verkase, out of their superstition of the Demon Lord, and considering the chill got worse the further into demon lands you went, Fernand thought they were probably right.

The first time Fernand had gone to the Ruins was somewhat by accident. He had been tracking the deserters from the Ti’Aurthan garrison a few months ago, and they had made their camp in the Ruins at one stage, where Fernand also camped a few days later. He wandered in, completely unaware of what to expect but with a vague knowledge of where he was, but by the time he left the Ruins he swore never to go back. To break his oath so quickly after his first visit, one could only wonder what he was thinking.

To Fernand, the Ruins were a cursed place. Demons didn’t exactly live there, but the so-called Breath of Verkase was more intense there than anywhere else he had gone. It should snow in the Ruins of Nil’Noere, but it never has, and it should rain there too, but it won’t. There was never a cloud in the sky above the ruins, never a drop of rain and never a gust of wind that wasn’t chilling to the bone. The Ruins of Nil’Noere were like a strange dreamlike place separated from the rest of the world by a deep fog that surrounded the perimeter of the Ruins, and when you were there you felt timeless, despite the obvious age to the buildings there.

There could possibly be a collection of people left in the world, mostly elder elves, who remembered what Nil’Noere was like before its ruination, and unless Fernand was going crazy, he suspected that the woman now lying next to him by the campfire had seen Nil’Noere in its glory too. Not an elf, but something else.

She was a beautiful yet somewhat otherworldly woman. Her silver hair, her delicate and pale cheeks and lips, but most bizarrely her small white horn Fernand had discovered all seemed to ring true of the typical appearance of a kind of being thought to be dead. But she wasn’t death, or in Fernand’s mind either, she was alive and breathing before him, deeply asleep. She was definitely Unician, and by the sense of her magical energies Fernand felt, an incredibly powerful one. This is exactly why Fernand broke his oath, never to go back to the Ruins of Nil’Noere.

In her sleep she started to toss and turn. Having wrapped her up in her cloak and his own cloak, she didn’t move very much, but a sweat began to break out on her forehead, and her breathing intensified. Her pale cheeks became even paler and the muscles of her face pulled tight. She was having a bad trip, and Fernand didn’t want to take the chance of losing her mind to the trip.

Anxiously, Fernand thought of a solution. There was no antidote to his drug other than time, but the state of Syiana the Unician woman seemed to worsen. He had to attempt to wake her up, or at least try to reach her. There was a lot of risk involved in waking up a magic user who was largely more powerful than himself, but he had to do it anyway. The sweat now seemed to cover her body, and the tossing became worse. Quickly he took out his vial and gave himself the smallest possible dosage, enough to let him enter the dream state lucidly and awake, and to try and tap into those wells of energy that surrounded Fernand when he entered this state of consciousness.

Placing his hands on her forehead, he channeled a small thread of his magical energy into her body, and tried to speed up the drug entering his system magically. His heartbeat became incredibly fast, like he was sprinting, and he began to sweat himself. Fernand’s eyes clouded over, and the next thing he knew he felt like he was falling through air. He was falling down and sitting down at the same time, half aware of himself and half aware of her, but he was inside now.

Feeling around, Fernand was clouded by a dream. He took a few steps and saw himself inside a house, of furniture and architecture unlike any he had seen before. The smell of smoke was thick in the air, and Fernand knew this was not the place. He opened the door to the house and stepped outside. It was an intensely bright day in this place, wherever he was, and flames seemed to leap out of nearby buildings. Fernand didn’t panic though, he just continued to walk, being drawn towards a powerful source. He then heard a sound, a shrill piecing sound, like a woman screaming with terror and agony, and he suddenly did panic and broke out into a run.

Running, the ground below seemed both hard and completely light at the same time, and the houses around him blurred into near obscurity. The fires that burned seemed to burn all in the same place, never moving much, as if time had been slowed down to seconds a minute. When he stopped running, he was overcome with the smell of burning flesh, and saw the source lying on the ground before him. Trying to control his stomach, looked past and saw the same Unician woman, Syiana, kneeling on the ground screaming. She was surrounded by a pale blue light, but where everything else around Fernand was ghostlike, Syiana was completely real.

Running over to her, her scream was cut short as she recognized him. She tried to childishly back away on the ground, dragging herself away slowly. Unable to do or say anything in this state of being, she was hopeless to the dream. Fernand reached out and touched her shoulders, and in an instant a brilliant white flash surrounded them both and they were back, together, by the campfire at night, in the middle of nowhere.

Syiana sat up immediately, feeling for her forehead, throwing off the cloaks that wrapped her in an effort to cool down. She was breathing heavily, but stable again. Fernand, alternatively, was lying on the ground, near collapsing; smoke seemed to rise from his entire body. He could barely move, he had suffered from magical burn.

“How…? What’s going on?! How did you do that?!” Syiana demanded, still panting heavily. She began staring at her hands, focusing with great intensity on the texture of her own hands. There was small cuts on her palms, and blood also on her nails.

“I don’t know,” Fernand said weakly. He used all his strength just to point a finger, and pointed past Syiana’s shoulder. She turned very slowly to see, and saw a great wall of fog a few yards away from them. Above the fog wall rose three towers, two of them broken at the top, as well as a few tall rooftops, all of them broken in some way. “I….brought you home.”

Syiana’s eyes widened and she looked back at Fernand. She couldn’t tell if she was still dreaming or not, but swiftly her hands felt around her and her eyes narrowed on Fernand again. “Where is my staff?! Where is this place?! Is this a dream?! Who are you?!”

Fernand groaned and tried to lift his head. Failing he just slumped back and sighed. “Ugh…I don’t know about your staff…my name is Fernand just like I told you before…I brought you out of a dangerous dream...and most of all, this place is Nil’Noere.”

Syiana went silent for a long time, and slowly Fernand refocused his strength. He slowly moved his arms and legs again, and raising a hand out to Syiana he gave a half-smile. “Hey, prove to you this isn’t a dream. Take my hand…and then help me up.”

Rhys stared in astonishment at the kid before him, before crossing his arms and grinning. “Of course I’m not going to hurt you! I don’t make it my business to hurt kids who are just as creeped out by this place as I am.” He paused to think. “Yep. I’m pretty creeped out by this place…”

Seeing how frightened the kid—and the griffin before him—were, Rhys felt somewhat braver, and more of his confidence was coming back. Still grinning, Rhys patted the kid on the head. His voice grew softer. “Don’t worry about it, okay?”

The young griffin was now pressed up against his leg again, staring at the newcomer with wide black eyes. It seemed as confused as Rhys was. Rhys’s glance then flickered over to the elven woman. Was she going to attack him? What did she think of all this? Clearly she wasn’t happy about all this oddness going on in what was probably an elven forest. Rhys looked over at her, expression now serious.

“Do you believe me?”

(OOC: Sorry for the shortness, now I'M waiting on Hoodie and Akito.)

The dream felt far too real. Syiana could still hear Eirea's screams, still smell the smoke and the stench of burning flesh. She could still feel her own despair and helplessness. She kept touching the ground, touching the cloaks around her, touching her magical source that pulsed along with her erratic heart. Her eyes kept darting left and right as she tried to make sure that she was not surrounded by burning buildings that she knew.

Then she got up unsteadily, wrapping cloaks around her as she was began to feeling the chill, and she stumbled the two steps needed to reach him. The fear that carried over from the dream was so strong she had to steel herself before her trembling hand went for his, and even then, she faltered once. Hesitantly, her shaking fingers crept over his and when she finally gripped them gingerly, the relief that they were solid was so overwhelming she let out a choked sob.

Covering her mouth, she mumbled tearily. "It's not real... It's a dream... You are real..."

"Yes, lady. And I need your help to get up."

Wordlessly, she nodded, and with both hands and strength that she did not know she had in her state, she managed to get him standing, even though he was not at all steady. Being in close proximity with him meant that she quickly became aware of his condition, and she debated if she should help him with it, since he was responsible for her having that dream in the first place, but he also did save her from being stuck in it any longer.

Grumbling, she muttered an inaudible prayer to the Water God and the crystal below her horn glowed as she gently transferred a trickle of cooling magical energy into his body. "I would attempt to heal you, but it is not something in my realm of expertise."

Nanaira studied the faint impressions of hoof marks in the moss. A faint frown floated over her features. She slid one of her daggers free of its sheath and dug the tip into the moss and the earth under it. The dagger hit something solid. With a twist of her wrist she flicked a section of the earth and moss into the air revealing the cobbling beneath. Just as she had thought. She cleaned the blade and sheathed it. She grabbed the saddle on Elka, slipping her foot into the stirrup, then hopped on one foot to adjust her position and pushed off the ground to settle herself in the saddle. Elka was a destrier. Her height was not ideal for mounting from the ground for someone of Nanaira's height, however the horse was agile and trained for battle. Nanaira touched her heels to the horse and grabbed the lead rope of her supply horse, ensuring the gelding would follow. She continued her pursuit of the Unician woman and the man who abducted her.

She slowed the horses down to a walk so she could grab her water skin. She uncorked it and took a quick sip. The water tasted of the leather but it gave her mouth the moisture it needed. She put the cork back in and put the skin back. The cold wind was chapping her lips, she pulled the hood of her cloak forward attempting to find some shelter in it. It was then her eyes caught some movement in the distance. She gave Elka a kick, the mare gracefully moved into a canter despite her weariness. As she neared, she could identify that the figures were indeed the ones she was hunting. She pulled back on the reins until both animals slowed, then jumped off the mare's back. Being a well-trained horse, Elka followed Nanaira. The gelding was forced to follow the mare as his lead line was attach to the saddle on Elka.

"Miss Syiana, are you well?" She kept a wary eye on Fernand. The man looked like he was in no condition to fight, so she kept her sword sheathed but rested her hand on the hilt just in case. Syiana seemed for the most part unharmed.
"Why did you drug and kidnap Miss Syiana?" Her voice had turned as cold as the wind racing over the demon land.

OOC: Syiana's staff is on the geldings back and probably pretty noticeable.

With easing difficulty Fernand could stand stability again, and whatever Syiana did helped end the burning sensation that was emanating from his every muscle. He began to weakly stretch his fingers then arms and shoulders, as if he hasn’t done anything physical for a long time, and slowly but surely his strength was returning.

Then approached a strange site, even for Fernand’s well adjusted demeanor for strange appearances, as he could have sworn a ghostly figure was stepping through the night’s darkness towards them, back the way they had come. Closer to the campfire the figure got and it was no ghost but just a woman, who was armed, and with two horses following from behind, one tied to the other. Her hand was by her sword hilt, and she approached with caution in her step, but her stark determination was worn openly on her face.

“Miss Syiana, are you well?” she said, still approaching slowly. She seemed to consider Fernand cautiously for a minute before speaking again. “Why did you drug and kidnap Miss Syiana?”

While he was visibly worn out, Fernand was slowly regaining his energy, and had lost none of his wit. He flashed a smile at the woman and stretched again, in a more overtly casual way than before. “What? We’re just going for an evening stroll! I can’t believe you’d barge in on us like that!” he said lightly, beginning to step away from Syiana. In one quick motion he scooped up his cloak off the ground and flung it over his shoulders. The dark blue material draped his frame in the darkness and began to glow slightly, as if reflecting the moonlight. It was a Spellsword’s cloak, and no doubt this armed woman would recognize it.

As opposed to hesitating, she simply raised an eyebrow and stepped closer towards Syiana. Syiana just watched this exchange silently, not too sure if she should become any more involved. The woman stopped between Fernand and Syiana and asked again, “Why did you drug and kidnap Miss Syiana?! Answer me!”

“Cause I felt like it,” Fernand said casually, obviously testing the patience of this woman. He wasn’t really in the condition to seriously fight anyone just yet, but he wasn’t just going to answer to a stranger.

“Pitiful dog, answer my question! I didn’t come this far for the childishness of a kidnapper,” the woman said coldly, fixing a ferocious stare on Fernand.

“That’s not proper language to use in front of a lady, especially in the presence of spirits and ghosts,” Fernand said, casting a hand gesture towards the wall of fog behind him. “All I did was simply take the lady home, to Nil’Noere. Or did you not know this is the home of Unicians?”

At this the woman and Syiana exchanged glances, and all Syiana could do was lightly shrug. She turned back to Fernand, less threatening and more overcome with curiosity at the little game Fernand seemed to be playing. “This is Nil’Noere?”

“Well, yes….You’d think it’s just a ruin, but in fact it’s so much more beyond those walls of fog. It’s the home of very old spirits. Personally I never wanted to come back after the first time, but….meeting the Lady Syiana, I felt like it necessary…” Fernand said simply. “Usually no one goes here, not even brigades of Ti’Lethan’s finest will make a camp inside the fog wall, but I think you should both come in with me…unless you got plans to slice me instead?” The woman took the hand off her sword hilt and whistled a pitch for her horses to come to her, but as they began to move Fernand sighed, “Sadly, horses won’t pass the wall. They hate it in there. I had to let my best horse loose after I took him with me into the ruins…it went crazy. We must walk.”

Fernand turned to walk towards the wall with a limp in his step as the woman sat her horses down by Fernand’s own horse at the campfire. Syiana followed after Fernand, catching up to him because of his slow steps. The woman just sighed and regarded the entire fog wall before her. It stretched on in both directions into the black infinity of night, and the woman knew she had to follow to find the answers to this bizarre situation. She quickly grabbed Syiana’s staff and caught up to her, handing it to her with considerable care, before all three of them passed between through the moist fog air and emerged on the other side in a strange land.

The light of the moon stretched and bended across the city with a soft golden green light, as it touched the magnificent, if crumbling, structures and towers of Nil’Noere. All sound of nature outside the city had died completely, and while nothing blew in the wind, they could all feel the chill of the Breath of Verkase most intensely here. In complete utter unnatural silence they took their first steps in the ruins.


OOC: Hope I didn't misuse your character Sydra

[Samuel slowly fanned away the wisps of smoke floating in front of him with his free hand as he lowered the white gripped pistol to his side. The roar of approval and applause brought a grin to Samuel’s face. No matter the people, everyone loved a show.

The small clearing next to the tavern had converted quite nicely to a makeshift shooting range, much like his one at home. At first, only a few people had stopped to stare at Samuel as he blasted away at a few crude targets he had set up. The few stragglers soon turned into a small gathering of whispering onlookers, and that quickly turned into a small applauding crowd. Now people pushed in on almost all sides, except downrange, and freely cheered as Samuel continued to entertain them.

The tavern keeper had been rather reluctant to agree to Samuel’s proposal, but the man quickly changed his mind as the as the crowd outside his tavern grew. Wenches worked their way through the crowd delivering drinks and food. The man had even set up torches and lanterns as the sun dipped below the horizon to keep the spectacle going. Samuel suspected the man would make more money tonight than he had all week.

A stray mug flew across the edge of Samuel’s vision. Reflexively, Samuel raised his left hand and gently pulled the trigger of the white pistol. Instantly, the mug was transformed into clay shards that tumbled to the ground with a crash. Samuel glanced at the section of the crowd the glass had come from. “Ladies and Gentlemen, please refrain from throwing any more cups. If we keep this up poor Jonathan will have nothing left to pour your drinks into.” A peal on laughter rose from the crowd, none laughing harder than the aforementioned tavern master.

Samuel listened to the laughter as he unlatched the cylinder of the revolver and tapped the side of the gun to free the spent shells. The brass tinkled together as he caught them in his free hand. Laughter was almost as good as applause, and Samuel was used to getting both. Yet, this seemed different, more robust like it had been allowed to build. Just how long has it been since these people laughed and relaxed?

A small commotion at the edge of the crowd caught Samuel’s attention. People were parting to let several uniformed men closer. Samuel recognized a few of them from last night, they had been on top of the wall alongside him during the raid. The men seemed weary, and dirty, their bows casually slug over their shoulders. Samuel silently wondered if they had a break since last night.

The guardsmen approached the area Samuel had roped off for the gun range. “What’s going on here?”

Samuel grinned, “Just a demonstration of unparalleled marksmanship.”

The guard at the front seemed to be in charge of the group. Samuel assumed the bold streak of green paint across the man’s helmet signified his position. “This?” The marked man asked disdainfully as he motioned to the targets at the end of the range. “A child could hit those.”

Samuel lifted the rope and motioned toward the targets. “Be my guest.”

Kalrion appeared nearby and motioned Samuel over. “Managed to tear yourself away from that lovely lady from last night?”

Kalrion brushed aside the comment. “You do know that is the captain of the archers?”

“Now I do.” Samuel said with a knowing smile. “If you’ll excuse me, I have a matter of honor to settle.”

“Men around these parts rarely wager with just honor.” Kalrion admonished the gunman.

A child-like sparkle appeared in Samuel’s eyes before he turned around. The captain was busy taking a few shots at the targets and getting a small amount of applause on his own. Samuel called out. “Shall we name the stakes?”

The lightly armored man gently leaned on his bow and leveled his gaze at Samuel. “Gladly, shall we say ten silver?”

Samuel leaned back and whispered to Kalrion out of the left side of his mouth. “How much for a decent wagon?”

“What? Why?”

“I hate ridding horses. How much for a wagon?”

Kalrion seemed a bit flustered. “Uh, about twenty silver.”

Once again Samuel focused his attention on the captain. “Forty silver.”

Samuel stumbled backwards a bit as Kalrion yank on Smauel's shoulder. “I said twenty!” Kalrion hissed.

“Yeah, ” Samuel said with a devilish grin. “but I like nice things.”

(OCC: Sorry for the quality, but it has been a while and I need to get back in the grove. I also seem to be cutting this post a bit short, but I need to. Plus, this gives the party in Nil’Noere and others a chance to post and still lets me post if we do not make it to morning before I post again. )

[ Vidula & Liam ]


The short stature woman could only stare, her anger dissipating like an early morning fog. Soon the sun breached the small grassless area, the rocks around them started to act like a magnifying glass and heat the area. Soon Vidula became uncomfortable in her furred jacket that would keep against the biting cold, her arms pulled out from its taut sleeves with out much difficulty. Now most women would be against showing their bare shoulders, back and curvature of their neck region but at the moment she didn’t give a rat’s ass if the two men would stare. Of course she had to set down that oddly smiling bag on to limestone flooring keeping her eyes on the newer male that came in to the area, he was of course strange. It looked that he was having a conversation with him self as that thick jacket molted from her shoulders exposing that large tattoo of a Cerberus. The bold black with out color would of course stand out on pale flesh that the sun has never kissed. Soon her vocals peered out, a soft song. “Interesting it seems like the prophet’s words are becoming true. “ she could feel the powerful magic taint her own, it was radiating off of the red haired man like waves pounding rock. An idiot could not notice this though before her eyes narrowed before a smile curled up on fragile petals. A natural expression when one was facing the sun, to squint their eyes and grin slightly. The gold pieces in her nose and ears gleamed with out tarnish, so the rainstorm has decided to forsake them and move ahead to another part of the expanse of forest. The day would be hazy with thick cotton ball clouds pregnant with foreboding summer rain. Lips parted in to a vagrant sigh, then in acknowledgement of the Adel’s apologies. “It is fine but if you are trying to hunt, practice using your bow and honing your hunters skills first. Or the animal you are tracking will sense you and run. “ Vidula had to pause and catch her breath before directing the pair of pale eyes to Rhys, most elves in this region were darker than she so people who were ignorant of that would suspect she was normal. “ Some how I can. The murder of this cub’s mother looks to be human done due to how they split the skull and only took the valuable items that griffons have to offer which are their eyes, talons, substantial organs and flight feathers. “ Soon legs went down in to a crouch looking slightly saddened by this sight before continuing her diatribe. “ This sickens me, how humans kill anything and everything that they think will bring them ever-lasting life. How they slay dragons to eat their hearts or steal feathers of phoenixes for the properties of their rebirthing sequence. When humans could never obtain ever-lasting life from doing so, but instead holding deep sin that tarnishes their souls for the crimes they acted. They will come back for its cub and raise it only to kill it. I have seen this before.” Soon she scuttled behind Rhys to take advantage of the shade he generated from standing against the sun, eyes slightly illuminated form the soft form of relief.

From how she crouched behind the obliviously taller man, she made her self look more like a little child from a human settlement. Twilight strands of hair pooling around her heels, pushed off her face but a thick band of ordinate cloth. The pallid gaze ephemeral over the site with cupid lips zipped close, looking quite placid in the provided shade of another. Her jacket was neatly folded and inserted between the twin handles of the carpet textured bag, to keep resonating dust and dried blood from its creamy texture. Boots squelched against the rocks slightly kicking up some dirt. Her eyes looked over at the cub that peered at her with slight curiosity, possibly attracted to her smell of honey and Darjeeling tea or the snacks in that voluminous bag. It was barely grown, its flight feathers still peeking through the danger fluff of its adolescent years. A curious thing life was, each species children looked different, even mixed breeds were strange as well when child. Her legs pumped her up wards scaring the cub with her immediate movement, walking over to her bag in ease. Bending over to pick it up she watched the cub approach her once more, but more cautiously. Vidula rose to stand straight backed. Bag and jacket in hand she looked man to man before speaking curiously. “ It seems like your both lost, why don’t you all come with me back to the manor. We can speak more in-depth there. Plus it might be more comfortable for the cub to get out of the sun and away from harm.” The cub began to follow which instilled the others to follow as well up the embankment she slid down earlier. It wasn’t an easy climb but somehow it was invigorating with shade hanging in front of her like the proverbial carrot. The men followed her easily with the cub-keeping stride on the rain washed dirt.

Not to far off Liam stirred in his patch of posies and clover made of dried leaves and roots. Bits of twig and clove stuck in those ashen ringlets that would surely become tangled. Pools of swamp green glowed a bit when the light from the canopy hit the corneas sending his pupils to tighten. Showing blatantly his draconic nature by his slatted pupils. They only appeared slatted when the sun was out and bright, contracting normally like a human’s own round pupil. His tongue darted over his upper lip, almost a canine behavior that could also be excluded to dragons as well. Nausea passed over his belly in waves, sitting still as a rock afraid that his next movement would send him in to shivers that would lead to puking his guts out on to the forest floor. Soon it passed with out much adieu, now he felt like he was somewhere completely different. Of course he knew that this wasn’t a cruel joke, for the land here smelt fresher and there wasn’t the taint of smog or coal in the air. The trees were singing in happiness not in depression of their lost brethren. If anything if he were in the past he could find the younger self of his Father who was possibly a teenager at this time, his mother not yet born. Liam decided against seeking out his hormonal teenage father so he wouldn’t change some of the past. Scents from all over drifted in wards to him, it was nice that the air was clean for a change than damage with soot and pollution of human. His mouth felt sticky and tongue swollen as it slipped between his exotic lips. Saliva glossed the muscle easily as it passed to his lips and to the forest flooring in strings and loops. Maybe some one would find it disgusting, others strange but to him it was a way of reliving some sort of pain or back up of bodily fluid. Oddly Liam’s spit was thick and almost sticky another draconic train gained from his infamous father, he seems to pick up a lot of things from the dragon side of the family than human.

His broad sword to his side, as if some one with caring hands unsnapped it from his buckler and rolled him to his back for better comfort or not to wake up with a mouth full of grubs and leaves. It was possible fate that he was here to do something important, as the scents of two men; a woman and a griffon teased his sensitive nose. Maybe if they came his way, Liam could figure out what the year, date and geographic location he was at. But how would they be able to notice him? I mean it wasn’t hard to notice a tall 6-foot man with dark hair, tribal piercings and tattoos in odd modern clothing with a huge sword. But they could wind up taking a different path so his option was to scream out for help to set a false alarm or to stalk them like a hunter does a deer. The second decision would cause a fight possibly or scaring the other life forms immensely so the first option was valid and a little smarter even if it did earn a slap and angry looks from the woman. Soon his hands cupped around his mouth to create a funnel, his vocals let out a deep whooping alerting who ever out there as they followed in to sequences mimicking the cries of a dragon kit. Stopping for a minute to catch his breath and beginning again, he hasn’t done this type of cry since he was a very small boy when it was extremely noticeable of his dragon heritage. Now it all was to wait.

OOC: Hehe, if anything she would use even cruder language. Riding on injuries from the previous nights fighting because some jerk abducted someone she was trying to protect would certainly put her in a foul mood. XD This one is going to be short since I don't really know what you two have planned.


IC:
Nanaira turned to unsaddle her horse. Her face displaying its normal nonchalant expression, though her eyes still bore some annoyance in them. Why did every male she had run into lately been so unreasonable and a pain in the arse to deal with? It was truly frustrating. She removed the supplies off the other horse. If the horse bolted for one reason or another at least they would still have food. There sure as heck was nothing out here to eat. She staked a length of rope for the burden horse wander around on and completely removed her mare's bridle, trusting the horse to stick around as long as nothing threatened it. Nanaira grabbed up Syiana's staff, noting she was being left behind. She shook her head, not even bothering to wait up. She felt like an obedient child as she ran to catch up, another annoyance. The air became more frigid as she jogged after them. The midst of demon claimed land, the fool. She caught up, stopping the woman with a hand on her shoulder. She handed over the staff politely, her face perfectly neutral. They walked into the ruins.

"Nil'Noere," she said, reverently and immediately grimaced. "The taint is still strong after so many years. I will not be able to sense them if any are here. We should be on our guard, even if none were here the last time, there is still the possibility that there are still some lurking around." Even the towns attacked by demons did not feel as bad as this. A couple good rains washed away a portion of the taint. However, in this city it seemed that never happened.

Her gaze fell across lay of the decaying city. Some of the building tilted dangerously to one side, others were crumbling after something had hit them with incredible force so many years ago. The soul of the city was dead and contaminated. Nanaira turned to check on Syiana. No doubt seeing this would be difficult, she thought with some sympathy.

"Miss Syiana," she queried to the unician, a raised brow expressing her concern.

[OOC: Sydra, there was no fire. Syiana’s dream is purely that, a dream.]

Unbeknown to the others, when Nanaira handed over her long staff, Syiana's heart swelled with relief and she could not stop running her hands over the smooth and familiar surface of her weapon. Its light weight resting in her palms was a constant proof that she was no longer in the nightmare that had shaken her to the core, and she took comfort in that fact.

But at the same time she felt a deep sense of dread, one that dropped a weight into her soul when Fernand unceremoniously announced that they were at Nil'Noere. Standing there looking at the fog and the towers that stood beyond it, looking at the place that was supposedly her hometown, her Nil'Noere that she had wanted to rush back to since she woke up to a strange place and a stranger, she hesitated. Taking deep breaths to calm herself, and she felt that it was working, she followed Fernand and together with Nanaira, they went through the fog wall.

The first impression she had was of the intense coldness in the air. Instinctively she knew it was not natural, and she shivered despite having wrapped the cloak around herself thoroughly. Her eyes seek out towards the structures around that the soft moonlight touched, a frown working onto her face as she tried to collate it with the city that she grew up with.

Then, the pieces clicked together.

She did not even bother to gasp as her feet stilled. All she could do was stare at the ruins that she now recognized, her fingers tightening unconsciously around her chilled staff. Her gaze went to a particular building and stopped there. A whisper slipped out from between her lips without her knowing, and the language was her fluid mother tongue. "Seven Hooves Inn..."

"Miss Syiana."

Syiana paid no attention to the call. No, to more accurate, she simply was not aware of anything else other than the ruins. Her vision shifted, and landed onto the building next to it, and then the one beside, before she turned her head to the ones on the other side. With each pause, her mouth moved to form the words that were their names. She walked forward, almost mechanically, and repeated the process with each building that came into sight. Until finally, she stopped in front of a shop and uttered a single name.

"Eirea..."

The scene before her blurred and flickered, and her eyes went round as she saw flames licking through the buildings.

A figure on the ground. Screams. Smell of burnt flesh.

Eirea.

"Why are you not here? Why did you leave us?"

She inhaled sharply and stumbled backwards, colliding with Fernand. She squeezed her eyes shut and clutched onto the man's cloak with her free hand, her body shuddering as she tried to contain herself.

"Lady Syiana?"

"No... I didn't... I did not leave you alone..." She paled and began muttering incoherently, flinching away from Fernand and Nanaira. Even though her eyes had opened, wide with horror, she appeared to not be seeing the world around her as it was. For a moment there, there was fire and screaming, and the next was filled with chilling emptiness and broken buildings.

A sob broke out of her uncontrollably, and then without a warning, she fled. With surprising speed, she dashed in the direction of her home and the palace, leaving the others chasing after her. They caught up with her when she slowed to a stop inside what seemed to have been the great hall of the palace. A few steps away from the raised platform, her knees collapsed and her staff made a noisy contact with the floor.

"I'm here, my Queen."

She murmured softly towards the icy nothingness in front of her, tears running wildly down her face.

"Rise, Syiana, daughter of Shizu. It's a good day today, isn't it?"

Heart-wrenching cries of an existence lost tore out of her throat brutally and echoed, again and again, in the ruins of Nil'Noere.

[OOC: Anyway, Syiana is uh... going nuts. Her nightmare is overlaying over reality for her, so she's pretty freaked. I think I can stop torturing her for this scene now.]

Rhys followed after the strange woman up a steep embankment, not sure exactly where he was going. He followed in silence for a long time, before he decided he hated the silence and had to break it. He wasn’t one to enjoy silence and when in the company of others, he really disliked having to remain so.

“Soooo… Where is it we’re going?” he asked. Rhys was having no problems with the climbing at all, having loved to explore the lands around him back home. Back home…

At the thought of home, he felt unimaginably homesick. He supposed it was understandable; he had no idea where he was, or how he’d gotten here. He loved to travel, normally, as long as it was nowhere around demons. But it was quite another story to be traveling lands unknown, disoriented and with no clue as to how you got there… He wondered…

He decided to bring it up to the others. Perhaps they would have some better answers, so he didn’t have to keep going in circles in his head. Before the woman even had a chance to properly answer his first question, he was asking her another.

“Do you…” he began slowly, mulling it over even as he went about vocalizing his internalizations. “Do you know if there’s a way people… I dunno… Teleport? In their sleep? Like, is it maybe something like a drug or herb you could poison someone with in their drink? Or a… Or a spell that somehow takes you to another place? Or maybe this is a dream…”

The thought had never before occurred to him. He was now peering at his surroundings, as though suspecting everything he saw was a mere nightmare, a figment of his overactive imagination. No way… he thought. If I was dreaming, I’m sure it’d be about some pretty boy, possibly pinned beneath me, and… Rhys found himself grinning pervertedly at the thought. If this were a dream and he could manipulate it, he knew he wouldn’t be dreaming about climbing a hill with a couple of kids, a lady and a griffin.

That was for damn sure.

“Well, so… It’s not a dream… Maybe some kind of illusion… Are you an illusion?” he asked his new traveling companions. As though he expected them to say, “Why, yes. I am an illusion. How’d you guess?”

“Never mind…” Rhys said. “Don’t bother gracing that with an answer…” Instead, he went back to his previous question. “Where are we going? Where are we?”