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Fantasy Setting Summer Dawn

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Setting Summer Dawn Setting Summer Dawn - Lore Setting Summer Dawn - OOC Setting Summer Dawn - Guidelines & Characters Setting Summer Dawn - Firelight tales
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Razah turned to Falsedge as she barked out commands, fury snapping into her eyes. Desrick gritted his teeth.
"You think the elf scouts will help?" She asked in angry disbelief. "He may share half their blood but to them, he is nothing!"
She shouted it, the strain of living with an everyday prejudice breaking her voice. "Why do you think I came to you first?"
Razah, still holding Lohrithe's hand squeezed it tightly before letting go. Turning a grateful expression onto him.
"Gorrey Razah." Desrick soothed in his own tongue. "She doesn't know what our people are to the elves here, but she is willing to help. That is enough."
Razah met Fasledge face to face, stance and motion betraying a skilled fighter and a competent warrior. Even though years of tempering her nature for the benefit of elves had softened her, she was an orc, pure-blooded and fearless, formidable in any eye, and to add to it, she was a mother looking for her child.
"He has few friends, none of the adults will speak to him. I am no hunter, but the prints I found by his fort...they are odd. You had best see for yourself. Call my boy 'brat' again lightlander, and you'll be wearing that mask on the inside of your face."
"Falsedge is right though, we should begin our search there." Desrick said quickly, before things escalated. He turned to the group and said in a loud voice: "I need the trackers up front, but I'll take as many people as I can to comb the forest by this fort."
Mythee Mythee Zazz Zazz @all players

The dark elf woman bounced and tittered like an excited school child and Desrick turned to her, a little of her magic vanishing in his eyes.
"This isn't a game." He admonished firmly. "If you are willing to help I'd be grateful, then we can speak more about who you are, and what you want with me."
Rough Patch Rough Patch

((little more info, while the others write posts))
 
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Ora's brown skin turned ruddy when Desrick looked over, a blush reaching every inch of her face.
"Yes, quite, thank you." She said softly, as Lohr applied the hair-sparkle to her with his fingers. She was surprised to see that it didn't cover it the way she thought, and now one section was shimmering. It reminded her of the way fish scales looked in the sun.
She opened her mouth to ask him about how they made this powder, when a half-familiar figure appeared at the back gate suddenly. It took Ora a moment to recognize her, with her face flushed and contorted in worry. She had been so serene in the market- something must be wrong. Ora stood right after Lohr, her heart dropping when a horrible event was confirmed.
Zazz Zazz SilverFlight SilverFlight

At the same time, Desrick had found an additional three people at the front of the house. There was a wood-elf, although different from the ones she had already seen. And then... a man who was mostly snake, and the most voluptuous elf-woman she had ever laid eyes on, a dark elf like Lohr. Unlike the boys in the group, Ora blatantly stared at this woman, as if looking for an explanation.
There is no way those things don't cause horrible back pain. Or fall out of that dress. What kind of magic keeps them in there? Are those even natural?
She took a moment to stare at the loud, chattering elf-woman, and then again at the snake man, before deciding that there was not enough room in her brain to comprehend those two, and deal with the missing Tomo.
Rhaine Rhaine Mythee Mythee Rough Patch Rough Patch

In the moment she had been distracted by the newcomers, Falsedge had stoked the frantic orc-mom into a rage. Desrick tried to defuse it, and Ora thought it best to stay quiet. Ora probably would have suggested the same thing, if Falsedge had not been first. But, she would not have called Tomo a 'brat,' and that was what might get her an orc-fist to the face.

The half-dwarf shot a concerned glance between the two women, not wanting to get caught in the crossfire if one of them lunged at the other. When it seemed safe to move at least for the moment, Ora stepped forward and addressed Desrick, "I can help with the tracking."
SilverFlight SilverFlight
 
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T
he word politics echoed in her ears as she furrowed her brows. Voices echoed in her ears as she her thoughts went elsewhere, not paying any mind to the conversation between Falsedge and Desrick. She agreed with Lady Levinia and Crispin — Rossarinya didn’t want to speak about prejudice or stay on the subject of the differences between Summena and Cyndara any longer. It was a bit exhausting to her - through all the appraisals to the revelation to continue harping on about the negativity. The day was long yet day didn't belong in Cyndara. It was only when Desrick addressed her question that Rossarinya directed her attention back. Her lips pursued into a small thin smile as she heard his response.

"I'm a big green orc living amongst small, twig-thin elves, I always feel uncomfortable."

Rossarinya couldn't pretend to understand his plight, however, she could understand living among "twig-thin" elves and feeling uncomfortable. She was in no way big or green. Instead, to herself, she believed she was average compared to most of the more noble and upper class elves in their society. Summena valued appearances and it was a hassle to live each every day by ideals of who looked the best and how one looked. Rossarinya could empathise to that extent, feeling tense under stares of elves. She knew of her beauty but felt herself feel squeamish or even stifled at the thought of being complimented and tended to every hour, minute, and second of the day. In House Bellethiel, she had her fair share of handmaidens, but most of the time, she either hid from them or made a deal with them: stay around when her mother was in the same vicinity but when her mother wasn't, they were free to leave her be.

Dinner came to an end and it was time to head in for the night. However, Rossarinya took the silence and vacant time of the night to use the bath. The steam and sound of the water seemed to relax her as she enjoyed the cool air, feeling a slight tingle against her skin. She had never had small little dots trail on her skin from feeling a slight breeze. It felt. . . nice. Her eyes glanced up at the sky, seeing the twinkling lights above. So those are stars. A small giddy laugh escaped her lips as she lifted her hands up to the sky, attempting to catch the star in her hand or pinch the star.

Feeling better, Rossarinya hummed to herself as she softly scrubbed herself down, wanting to get rid of the dirt and tiredness from the journey thus far. Her back leaned against the frame of the wooden bath as her shoulder sagged. She could hear her muscles singing in ease and comfort as she closed her eyes revel in the pleasantries of being alone. Her fingers gently swished around in the water before her eyes landed on her skin grateful that the wound was healing well. Rossarinya's guard dropped, allowing her a peace of mind to be herself again. It had been awhile since she practiced archery, sewed, or even just wrote in her journal. But, at the mentioned of her journal, Rossarinya shook her head, ridding herself of the memory of the last time she wrote in her book. Nevertheless, those were the activities she enjoyed, sometimes even allowed herself to get off some steam.

Soon, Rossarinya was out of the bath and ready to place on a her new attire that she thankfully packed in her bag. With the silk she received as a gift from the shopkeeper, once Rossarinya was dressed and ready to head back inside, it was only a matter of time before Rossarinya went straight to work to use the silk as an extra oomph piece to her outfit. It was only when the hunter green silk transformed into an elegant slip-on hooded cape did she find herself turning in for the night, resting peacefully under the stars with the windows wide-open.

ncoLeR5.png

M
orning came and it was only when she heard sounds of voices outside did Rossarinya slowly fluttered her eyes open. Her vision was burry as she tried to adjust her eyesight to the newfound bright light hitting against her eye and skin. However, the heat of the light never came or sizzled against her skin. Lifting her head up, Rossarinya, stilled dazed, glanced around the room as she took in. A small slight panic escaped as she felt her heart beating a mile a minute. Where was. . . she? Feather stuff pillows. Woolen bed sheets. This. . . wasn't her room. Rossarinya's head whipped around once more before she stood up quickly, perhaps too quickly, feeling blood rush through her head before she practically fell from imbalance. A loud thud could be heard and Rossarinya could only hiss and groan.

It was only a minute later did she realise where she was. Cyndara. Expedition. Braxius. Orc. Elves. Fairies. Crystal. A flood of memories came rushing back towards her as her eyes finally adjusted to her surrounding. A part of her laughed at her disorientation but the other part of her sighed. Had she missed the sun? The abruptness of her handmaidens, even mother? She knew, if she was back home, she would have been placed on her bed, comforters up and situated. But, she wasn't home. This place wasn't Summena.

But, without wasting anymore time, Rossarinya slowly got up and reached her hand up to the sky, stretching any crinks she could as she loosened up her muscle., Getting ready for another day, Rossarinya looked over at the desk, her eyes widening and delight at seeing the hooded cape finished and quite well sewn in. Her spirits were lifted as she rejuvenated and energised to tackle anything that came her way. Soon, Rossarinya made her way out of her room and downstairs, greeting those inside the house before hearing a knock on the door.

Tilting her head curiously, Rossarinya headed to answer the door until she heard voices outside, though she wasn't able to decipher the words. Pausing for a moment, Rossarinya reached out and slowly opened the door only to be greeted with three different company in front of her. Her eyes widened when she took in the appearance of a snake-like being including two more elves. Rossarinya didn't know what to think, or rather who to look towards or even speak to. There were distinct figures in front of her and she couldn't begin to comprehend or even use her words to say anything but a small "hello", though she didn't know if she was heard. [ Mythee Mythee , Rhaine Rhaine , Rough Patch Rough Patch ]

Regardless, Rossarinya knew she would never get used to surprises, much less, ones in Cyndara. But, between looking at herself and the female dark elf, Rossarinya couldn't help but feel her cheeks heating up at the She-Elf's appearance. A part of her felt minuscule under the new She-Elf's eyes, but even more so, she was intimidated and petrified at the thought of being succumbed to another She-Elf. She could handle the male elves, ignoring their cat callings or even their insults, but female elves, her own kin, were always more vicious with words. Regardless, the attire she adorned barely covered any modesty and Rossarinya couldn't help but unconsciously pull up her hooded cape closer towards her shoulder and neck. [ Rough Patch Rough Patch ]

As she looked away quickly, her eyes found the snake-like being, finding curiosity peaking as she looked at his tail. Tilting her head, Rossarinya wondered if his skin was slimy or hardened. She had never had the opportunity to meet other creatures aside from the norm, so to see another mysterious entity before her, Rossarinya resisted the urge to ask a million questions. But, her attention was soon headed towards the companion next towards him: the male elf. The colour of his eyes seemed to bore into her own emerald green eyes as she gazed him. He stood there in front of her with his long, thick black hair that reminded her of the dark, unknown - drowning and swirling inside of uncertainty. A part of her was drawn towards the Elf, finding his aura serene with a hint of soft , trepid sadness in his silhouette and stance; the other part was wary, anxious in front of him as she turned away. Another Elf. And that. . . choker. But, before she could think back on how she behaved in front of James, Rossarinya shook her head. [ Mythee Mythee , Rhaine Rhaine , cherub cherub ]

However, thankfully, with a save, Desrick turned the corner, appearing and introducing himself. But, as the She-Elf spoke, Rossarinya took a step back feeling cautious of the woman. But, at that moment, Rossarinya heard an all-too familiar voice and it wasn't only when Desrick urged them to follow, Rossarinya went. All warnings went out the window at the sight of Razah's pleas and distraught. Her heart dropped at hearing that Tomo was missing. However, at hearing the newcomer's all-too happy voice, Rossarinya turned over and looked at her with an unreadable expression. Soon, Falsedge's voice rang as she started to hound down on Razah with questions. But, Rossarinya kept quiet for the moment, seeing the frustration and anger radiating off of Razah. For a moment, Rossarinya looked over towards the snake-like male, as she whispered softly, "It will be okay." [ Mythee Mythee ]

Soon, Rossarinya nodded, speaking after Ora, "I will help search for Tomo, perhaps what I have read in books may help with the prints found. We should hurry." She spoke softly, though still wondered who would want to kidnap Tomo and why. [ SilverFlight SilverFlight , Flutterby Flutterby ]

tags: SilverFlight SilverFlight , Flutterby Flutterby , Rhaine Rhaine , cherub cherub , Mythee Mythee , Nevina Nevina , Rough Patch Rough Patch , The Suspicious Eye The Suspicious Eye
 
Seltheria disregarded the naga almost entirely as the situation began to escalate. He was already well in hand and under her thumb, with the way a little jiggling caused him to lose his composer Seltheria didn't see any future problems coming from him. She'd have him eating out of her hand in no time. For the time being, she needed to focus on those who were going to be more... resistant to her charms. Namely the orc.

There was definitely a bit of a power struggle going on between the large (and strangely familiar) woman and Desrick. Hidden behind Seltheria's mask, Sen's mind began formulating the beginnings of a plan that involved playing both sides against each other. Pitting the Sumenian against the Cyndarian might be profitable and help keep his disguise undiscovered. Currently, however, the situation as a whole wasn't lending Seltheria any favours. Her current attitude had caused Desrick to admonish Sen's alter-ego. He'd need to change her a bit to win the Orc's favour. Thankfully they'd only just met her and so any slight changes to her personality should go unnoticed.

Sen visualized Seltheria's face and body, like a shapely mannequin that had been coloured a deep indigo with a matching mask they appeared in his minds theatre on the stage. This was his changing room, the place where Sen retreated in-between eyeblinks to alter his disguises on the fly. It was the room in which his imagination took charge, a large stage backed by huge red curtains set before rows upon rows of seats in which sat all his other personalities, watching as he crafted their new sister. At first, he'd struggled to create this image in his mind, he'd needed hours of mediation and would lose himself in this vision for an extended period of time. Back then the seats had been empty. Now he could summon up his changing room, and leave it in the span of a second.

The mask isn't the problem. He thought to himself, stepping around the mannequin, a finger on his chin as he appraised it. It's perfect and accomplishing exactly what I need, the men are distracted and the women self-conscious. He raised a hand to the visualized disguise and imagined himself pulling a small orb of light out of its forehead. The orb glowed with a soft orange colour as it rested in his palm. Inside the orb floated a long series of black words in his first language that scrolled from bottom to top inside the ball of light. This was Seltheria's entire false history, laid out in Sen's hand, and of course, history dictated personality. A few minor additions to her past should create the change he needed. Intelligence is too low, she's an elf, after all, they're supposed to be smart. Airheadedness will serve poorly for this situation, it's clear Desrick finds it a personality defect. Can't have that. Alright, let's add that when Seltheria was a child she once was confronted by a bad situation she made it through by keeping her head on straight... an attack? No could inspire prejudice towards a race or group. Natural disaster? Hmm but I'm unfamiliar with the area and it adds a thread that could be tracked with a little bit of research... Ah! Animals, yes.

Like an author who'd broken through a writers' block, Sen reached into the orb and began to swirl the words inside around. While exploring as a child Seltheria and a friend... we'll call him... Toady... No Todanligum... Toady was his nickname because of his ugly face. In any event, Seltheria and her friend were trapped in a cave by bears instead of panicking, however, she remembered that bears were scared of loud noises and began to clap her hands together while shouting to scare them off.... wonderful this explains the clapping quirk I've given her, it should inspire courage inside of her as well as an ability to get serious as the situation demands. This should be good.

With a flick of his wrist, the orb went flying back into the mask as Sen re-donned his disguise and stepped out of his mind as Seltheria.

This inner monologue happened in the space between seconds, anyone watching none the wiser as Sen's mind worked. More of the people staying at Desrick's home had come out and offered their services in searching for the child, a dwarf with a unique set of horns that Sen filed away for later use and a female elf. Seltheria, after everyone else had spoken, raised her hands and lightly smacked her own cheeks.

"Right, time to get serious! It looks like we already have someone willing to take charge of the search," She exclaimed nodding towards Falsedge, "and the others have all offered to track! I'm not certain how much help I'd be with that, but if you'll have me Desrick this is what I came for and I'd like to assist with it any way I can." A charming smile was directed at the orc filled with perfectly white teeth as Seltheria tried her best to look competent and ready.
 
Falsedge stilled, looking directly at Razah, unflinching while the justifiably worked up orc woman turned her rage about the disregard of society toward the war djinn. Regardless of where it came from, the nickname she'd been calling the kid by had just been another case in a long line of incidents against her son. Threats, at this moment? It wasn't the first time she'd seen desperate people, circumstancially forced to be at their worst when their actions would matter the most. Civilians could lose their composure at times like these, but soldiers were trained not to.
"Understood, ma'am. I'm going to help you look for Tomo."
She spoke the words as coolly and as clearly as dripping ice, never breaking eye contact, aiming to efficiently reassure Razah that she was being listened to, in this moment where she didn't feel listened to, so they could stay on task. That's right. I heard you loud and clear and your trivial request for me to call him by something else than 'brat' has been processed, so if you're not planning to fill us in on anything useful, clear out of the fucking way and let us find your damned offspring.
Fully intending to help Razah with every inch of professional effort didn't mean that she admired her. Competence was one of the few metrics on Falsedge's scale that could determine that.

In comparison, Desrick was a high performer. He intervened, ever the diplomat, and was good at it. He was right, she hadn't known the details of the situation. To ignore a half-orc kid's kidnapping... she hadn't known just how bad the situation with the wood elves was. The religion here seemed to hold much sway over Cyndarans in some ways and not others.
Unlike Sen, Falsedge did not perceive any form of power struggle when Desrick very naturally followed her by-the-book instructions for potential-kidnapping protocol with the assignment of tasks. He understood the situation better than she, what with his long relationship with this place and these people- as such, if he took up a leadership role, it would expedite cooperation. Having been through the ranks and then captained herself, this particular people-watcher was no stranger to command structures and team dynamics. She could instantly recognize him as the most effective organizer in this situation.

There was something nutty about the dark elf woman's reaction to the situation, and it seemed Desrick had caught on to that, too. Yet, her attitude seemed to change almost immediately, to a confusing degree.
At Rossarinya's timid arrival, it seemed they had all gathered. Something had made her shake her head, and Falsedge suspected it was this new circus act with the snake-boy, robed wood-elf, and... that.

Valac bit his lower lip as more Summenans came out of the woodworks, both excited to meet them and worried by this incident they'd fallen upon. Orcs weren't well-liked, it was true, but he actually... hadn't thought it was so bad that a missing child would be ignored. As strange as it was to think of Orcs living among other Cyndarans with their violent culture, why should they be treated like this? "Orcs are still people, why... why is this-" he cut his blubbering short, worried to offend someone in his ignorance. Razah's outburst, though not directed at him, made him flinch. A hooded Summenan elf approached him quietly, surprising him when she whispered him a reassurance. He nodded anxiously, face pale as he found himself overstimulated by this combination of beautiful people, sad and angry Orc, revelation about society, and imminent disaster.
I'd like to bury under a hood too, if you have another one, ma'am... He thought in the blonde elf's general direction, awaiting instructions on what to do.
Desrick's invitation was a good start.
"Okay." He answered quietly, following the lead of others and dearly hoping that nothing bad had really happened to the child, and that his poor mother could soon stop worrying.
 
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"Good, Ora, up front with me." ( Flutterby Flutterby ) Desrick did not want to waste anymore time.
"The rest fall in behind, we'll spread out once we get to the place Tomo was last seen."
While the others prepared Desrick went to retrieve his axe, belting the holster over his loose shirt and across one shoulder.
"Thank you for your help...Seltheria was it?" ( Rough Patch Rough Patch ) He stopped when he caught sight of the oddly alluring drow woman and the nagakin ( Mythee Mythee ) boy who had also volunteered.
"Orcs follow a different set of values. They are violent, and most in Cyndara equate that with wrong. Cyndara's views on conflict are very adamant. Their views on inaction however...are vague. It is acceptable to do nothing when you feel the benefit for the community would be greater. Getting involved with orcs has historically been..very unwise. The prejudice is built around that."
Desrick normally was happy to speak about orcish history, but now wasn't the time. "Rossarinya's right, every mark is crucial." deer deer

Razah had left the conversation where it stood. Her son was more important than her pride, but Desrick caught the look in her eye, she would have been more than happy to challenge the flippant summerlander right there had matters not been so dire. That was all he needed, the only other orc in a settlement of woodelves loosing her temper because one of his guests didn't know how to soften her speech.
He hung back when Razah began to lead them away.
"Tact," Desrick rumbled, to get the attention of the Djinn, "is the ability to make a point without making an enemy." He came up to her, imposing in frame and height but his posture and tone were relaxed and nonthreatening. "You, have about as much tact as a farting elk." He said flatly. "It's as if you are trying to get people to dislike you."
Desrick moved ahead, only pausing to look back once. "Think on that Falsedge, please, or I might not be able to prevent the consequences." Mythee Mythee

~*~*~

The forested glade where Razah lead them was almost outside of the crystal's warm light. The fort (which had only been two rows of stick propped up against a fallen tree) was small and empty. One of the fort 'walls' had been knocked down and lay in a haphazard pile on the trail. The tracks Razah pointed to were large and flat and had a good deal of weight put into them, but the trail lead only until the edge of the glade and then vanished.
"They've covered their tracks." Desrick observed, "but I don't like the direction they were headed."
Crispin came up beside him and followed his brother's gaze. "That looks like it heads straight to the wyvern nest on the northern ridge, but they can't be headed there, that's suicide. No one goes anywhere near there."
Desrick hoped that was the case, that the tracks had only been heading that way for a little while and then turned in a direction they had yet to uncover.
"Go that way," Desrick said, following the direction in which the tracks vanished. "See if you can pick up the signs of the trail further out."
Razah came to a stop behind him. "Desrick, now you've seen the tracks...do you think they are...?"
Desrick regarded her, the troubled expression creasing his brow deeply. "Yes I do. The tracks are orc."

For the one who picked up the trail, they would find it soon joined by more feet, still headed in the same direction, and still more. Half a mark out, in the gloom of the thickest forest, the first to come upon the ridge would see a wall of loose stone on two sides towering over them, with the land sloping up on the other two, the remnants of a dried river. Narrow, and closed in. The ridge would be lined with forest so thick it was nearly impenetrable, but on the other side, the brush had been trodden down by many boots. Not twenty paces from the entrance to this small ravine, the body of a wyvern lay, glossy black scales dulled in death, clawed wings tattered from battle. It's head had been cleft clean from it's body and was missing from the scene entirely.
Up against one of the stone walls was a wooden spike driven into the ground, and tied to this, his back to the entrance of the ravine, head bowed, was a small half-orc boy, slumped and unmoving.

Zazz Zazz Mythee Mythee Rough Patch Rough Patch Nevina Nevina Flutterby Flutterby deer deer Rhaine Rhaine cherub cherub
 
Ora briefly looked over at Rossarinya, who spoke up quickly after she did to volunteer to help as well. She was glad that the elf-woman was up and on-board as well- she was a steadier, lighter presence than Falsedge and might be able to help Desrick with Razah.
The other drow seemed to settle down after Desrick admonished her, and set her mind to helping as well. The other newcomers did, too. They had a full team to go look for the young orc, much to her relief.
Desrick called her up to the front, in the most brisk tone she had heard him use.

Tomo's fort was further from the settlement than she thought it would be, but she supposed a kid like Tomo could take care of himself.. to a point. One side had been knocked over, and the tracks leading away were obvious until a certain point. Ora looked down at them, and then at Razah and Desrick.
The word wyvern sent a shiver down her spine, but was more uncomfortable was what she overhead between Desrick and Razah as she turned to follow the trail- the tracks were orc.
As she walked, she knocked an arrow onto her bowstring and held it there, ready to draw and shoot if necessary. When she reached the end of the obvious footprints, she paused. Ora tilted her head one way, then the other, scanning the surrounding forest. Slowly but surely, she lead them along the path of snapped branches and disturbed leaves. Not far on, the path became more obvious, now with tracks.

"More joined them after they got far enough away," Ora noted out loud, mostly to herself. Half a mark away from where they started, Ora stopped quickly. The trail had lead to a ravine, the kind that had a very limited number of exits. One side had been completed trampled by the group they had tracked her. Ora stared for a moment at the dead wyvren, shocked by its size and the complete lack of head. But her attention switched quickly to the small green form in front of her. He seemed to be alone, but her gut told her that approaching might prove to be a mistake.
"This looks like a trap." She said flatly to those near her, wondering if anyone was actually strong enough to restrain Razah if needed.
SilverFlight SilverFlight
Zazz Zazz Mythee Mythee Rough Patch Rough Patch Nevina Nevina deer deer Rhaine Rhaine cherub cherub
 
Once Valac had wrapped his knuckles against the aged, quaint door, all had flown by as quick as a sword stroke. With the appearance of the female dark elf, Hael's expression remained neutral, though his dark-cherry gaze moved sharp. He watched, mildly amused by the affect the stranger had on his companion. Valac was young, impressionable, and though he derived a moment of humor at the boy's expense, protectiveness was his immediate response.

There was something about the woman, something Hael couldn't exactly name, though he had his vague suspicions. For all her apparent vapidity there was a moment of calculation in every exchange. Awareness, quite contrary to the loose-mindedness she seemed to project. True, Hael wasn't the most trusting of creatures, and perhaps it was purely her keen effect on Valac that had him concerned, yet there was something in the turn of her face, the near absurdity of her garb that unsettled him. Without his own notice, he had moved a fraction, a step before his companion. Not quite a shield, or at all the gesture it might of been. Not blatant enough for notice, yet there all the same.

Hael's attention had been caught as the door they stood before slid open with the cadence of a gentle hand. It was a she-elf who answered their knocked request, and he felt a thick sense of deja vu slip over his shoulders, down his spine. He felt a child again, standing out in the frigid, salted wind, a jar of dozing flies held tight between his hands. He blinked the memory back. She was taking in the others first. He noticed the summer-dewed flush in her cheeks as she beheld the dark elf, her small, pearled hands bundled in her cloak. That quiet self-consciousness on so noble a brow. For all Hael knew, this was one of the Sun King’s princesses. Fallen under-dusk of the heavens.

How have you found your way here? What are you looking for?

Beneath it all was that familiar feeling - both a pinprick sensation at the edge of his senses, and a home-like, wave of warmth. She was a student of the Mystic arts, in one fashion or another. The light in him recognized it in her.

She met his eye and he briefly bowed his head in greeting. He scarcely heard her murmured hello.

“Good morning, kˈuːrɑn nˈɔss. M-” Dark, lilting accent curled low, cut short. The source of the gruff, cheered call made himself known, standing tall and broad. Hael fixed him with a pleasant look. He recalled the orc that had shown him the way along the sharp, barren paths of the Shivering Isle. He had not been unkind. Whenever Hael sought to bring forth the image of a stalwart, guiding force, it was his image that came to mind - preserved with a child’s gratefulness. This orc bore an elven name. Hael wondered if this was his home.

He was grateful Valac managed to provide an introduction before the dark elf burst forth with twittering enthusiasm. It didn’t encourage attentive listening, amidst the clapping, giggling, and bouncing.

Once more, there seemed to be another arrival. Hael’s long, curved ears perked slightly at the sound of a distressed voice back where Desrick had arisen from. He followed their new acquaintance. His staff felt heavier for a moment where it lay, slung on his back.

Coming into the courtyard, Hael noticed the distressed orc woman first. There was desperation over her fair features, copper flush tarnishing her skin. A child was lost. She had come for aid.

As conversing continued, Hael remained an outward observer. He took note of the other dark elf, this one male. A cold, burning star’s sort of beauty, like the soft-spoken she-elf, yet far less outlandish than the bubbling newcomer. Beside him stood what seemed to be a dwarven woman, though there were notable differences to her look. Hael’s eyes caught on the shine to a thick strand of her hazelnut-toned hair. She stayed out of the immediate conflict, yet offered her services. She was fair-voiced.

Hael’s attention was brought swift to the tall, straight-postured woman who bore a mask over her face. Her voice rung sharp and metallic from its bearing. She was quick to act, to set forth a designed procedure. It was not her first crisis, and she was unabashed in it. Apt and ready to provide service, yet she spoke with an odd shine of disdain. It seemed out of place, the bristle at her shoulders. Carrying something abrasively intrusive -- carrying it well, yet bearing it all the same. Perhaps she was too direct for niceties, yet a kind word often did more to aid a desperate situation than a sharp one. Still, clear-mindedness was a fine trait in of itself. Meanwhile, the female drow was all smiles at the possibility of a tragedy. It furthered his skeptical inclination.

Hael still stood tall, close beside Valac. He heard the noble she-elf’s whisper to his almost-apprentice. Comforting. To a stranger. Was she the nurturing kind?

As Valac gave his assent, Hael nodded.

“You have my assistance as well. Your child will be found.” Even as he spoke quietly, his full voice left a mark. He met the orc mother’s eye, bowing his head a moment.

Hael followed the others, compliant in whatever circumstance he had found himself amidst. He reached back, strong hands retrieving his staff, taking it forth. He leaned on it slightly as he walked. The hitch in his stride was less noticeable. He reached to Valac, resting his hand on his shoulder for a moment. He spoke soft.

“Courage, Valac. In testing the waters, we have been caught by the current.”

-

It was colder in the great, crested clearing. Almost completely departed from the crystal’s blooming light. He spied the empty child’s fort. It was broken, forlorn. He looked away, turning his attention to the hazarded tracks. He went a bit farther, out of Desrick’s way, though he was listening all the same.

”The tracks are orc."

Crouched, Hael nodded, agreeing wordlessly, fingertips lingering just before the broken earth. He rose, unsteadiness hid beneath his garb, his strength hinged on his staff. His weakness was acting up more obtrusively than normal. He showed no strain, only briefly touched the red stone at the base of his throat. Noticing the dwarven woman trailing ahead, he followed.

The forest drew closer the farther they delved. Hael’s eyes never stilled for long. He moved as deftly as he could manage, attention fixed on the newly-broken path. The orcs’ numbers continued to increase, accumulated on their way. All the while, the turgid starkness of death was in the air, seperate from the heady scent of the underbrush. This was sharp, acidic. A primordial beast had been slain. Hael’s full mouth was set grim.

Finally, he spied the creature. It had not gone without a fight. Torn wings, ruined, dulled scales, his eyes slipped closed with the violent sever at its neck. Proud serpent brought to brutality. Terrorizer itself, true, yet designed in its fierceness. Predator by nature.

They had taken its head.

He bent, laying a hand against its side. He looked up only with the dwarven woman’s fair voice. He noticed the boy, slack in his confinement. Found, but not yet saved.

Standing to his full height, he nodded, glancing at the woman who spoke before he scoured their surroundings. The trees were thick amidst the dimness.

“An apt suspicion.” The tip of his staff gave off a faint glow, casting scarce light over his sharp features. His words were close to a whisper, audible, yet aware. They were likely not alone.

“Caution may be wise. They have slain the wyvern, taken its head, yet left the boy.”

tags: SilverFlight SilverFlight Flutterby Flutterby Mythee Mythee Rough Patch Rough Patch deer deer cherub cherub Zazz Zazz
 
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Lohrithe frowned to himself, watching the other dark elf interact with the others. There was something... off, about her. A lot off, in fact. She looked as though a human man had conjured up the most ridiculous form of his imagination - large breasts, dark skin, far too cheery a disposition. And her dress was entirely out of place for a drow. At least, from his home. The male drow glanced at Desrick as he admonished her, then at Falsedge. Surely her instincts told her something was off. He couldn't be the only one. He just didn't know why his gut told him to keep an eye on her.

Lohrithe brought up the rear, hand ready on the hilt of his greatsword. The fort had been trashed, there were plenty of orc tracks - he would know - and there was an uncomfortably acidic scent in the air. When the wyvern and the boy came into view, the drow slowly drew his sword, keeping quiet, ready to defend his companions in the case of an ambush. He stood with his back to Desrick's, eyes peeled.
 
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Song was ready to go, despite her gold eyes constantly flicking over to the new arrivals. As Song had been a noble lady who danced with lies, the dark skinned woman seemed normal in that regard. It was the snake who caught her attention, and she watched with wary interest at how the form moved and caught the light. Although this sort of half-creature was more in line with what she had expected of Cindara, it was somehow still.. beautiful in its own way.

Thoroughly disturbed by her own thoughts having adjusted so far, she followed the group in silence, contemplating each of their motives. Upon arrival, she glanced haphazardly at the tracks; she couldn't tell a track from a tree root.

"What sort of creature if a wyvern, to illicit such concern?" A pause as the dark corpse came into view, to which she gave a simple, "Oh."

Feeling slightly ill at its apparently gruesome death, she looked away until her eyes caught sight of the young orc in the distance, "That's just terrible." She grumbled, now feeling both ill and angry, while completely missing the rest of the party's wariness over potential traps. The light fae began to step forward to set things straight. ((if anyone wants to put out a hand to stop her you're welcome to XD))
 
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Desrick's words about other Cyndarans and inaction would have killed her mood if the emergency that currently guided her steps forward hadn't already. He might as well as smeared pig refuse all over their name. Falsedge quietly admonished herself for having dared to believe, if only for a moment, that these friendly, trusting people were not equally capable of flagrant complacence that breeds hypocrisy. A better people? Sure. But being good at getting along could only go so far without accountability. With her fantasy thoroughly corrected, she might grieve a little less over Cyndara's potential downfall, if a war was to take place. But it didn't mean they didn't deserve any help they could get to prevent it.
Few things were more damaging to society, more evil than war. The more desperate a person, the more their humanity could be expected to take a backseat to survival.
But this snake-kid, robed wood-elf and voluptuous drow had been quick enough to offer their help.
It seemed, despite what the orcs so clearly believed Delan's wood-elves may or may not do, there was no shortage of good eggs in the immediate vicinity.
She blinked twice at the look Lohrithe had thrown her, then looked again to the drow woman. Ah. So he's not entirely oblivious, is he. She supposed, if she had been born a dark elf, that she might have been offended at the giggly, bouncy woman's existence itself. But hey, who was she to judge if a girl wanted to become some cheesy character from an erotic drinking song. Sometimes, people took roleplay seriously. Zazz Zazz

She raised a brow at Desrick's comment on her tact. 'As if' she was trying-? Hadn't she already told him that abrasiveness was her art? Well, to be fair, it may have been taken as a joke, and she'd been trying considerably less to tickle unfunny bones than in the past. It might've given off the wrong idea, made people think she was a social player, that being unapproachable was somehow an accident. Heh. If she threw Desrick's concern back in his face now as a generous demonstration of getting people to dislike her, it might feed into Rajah's distraction. She figured she'd return the diplomatic effort instead, because why the hell not. She needed to strike that balance where others would accept her help while keeping them at personal distance.
"Thanks for your concern," she sounded quite earnest in her tinny tone, marching forth with the characteristic crunch of armored boots on dead vegetal matter, "I'm concerned too, about what happens when we corner the owners of these footsteps." In the meantime, I'll leave the socializing in everyone elses capable hands. SilverFlight SilverFlight

The footsteps tracked in the forest did seem large, and heavy; but it was not their identity that was cause for worry, so much as their number.
If they were going to encounter a troop of this many orcs, then they were terribly outmatched.
Oh, how Delan's wood-elf leadership would love to hear about this.

The scouts came back, and they found their target. The sight of a beheaded wyvern was... impressive.
"Still in one piece." She commented, pointing out a positive for Rajah's sake. She couldn't tell if he was breathing, but she had her hopes up. If he had been used as bait, it would work better with him live. Perhaps he was just exhausted from struggling, and they need only call out to him for him to call back. The glow of the wood-elf's staff drew her attention, eyes widening for a moment. He had seemed the magely type, after all- what spell had he cast? Did it give him the impression of it being a trap? Oralia and Hael's idea had her wondering what for.
"A trap for whom? The beheaded prey? Odds are he was used as bait for the wyvern, then discarded. After all, these orcs must be just as adamant as ours that the wood-elves won't come to help a half-orc child... unless... we Summenans are the enemy they sought to lure." If the news of the Summenans led by Desrick had reached the ears of these three new additions to their merry band, it could certainly have traveled the Orc's way as well. Rhaine Rhaine Flutterby Flutterby

In testing the waters, they were caught by the current. Valac's friend and mentor's advice was almost lyrical, begging for continuation, giving him a touch of comfort in their familiar poetry. A timid smile returned to his face, thankful that Hael had chosen to come with him yet again.
"Currents lead to the ocean. Maybe we can calm the waves." He spoke hopefully, employing the same imagery.
He had followed closely by Hael's side, a hand on the hilt of his enchanted sword. He was dreading the prospect of encountering orcish kidnappers. Were they supposed to convince them to return Tomo? After they had encountered those too-many footsteps, he was inclined to suggest that they get more help from Delan's archers despite that it would mean agreeing with the intimidating Summenan woman's earlier instructions. Yet, the idea of getting on Rajah's nerves by doing so scared him. He glanced nervously at her, wondering how she was doing.

"Oh no." At the sight of the wyvern's corpse and tied-up child, he felt a lurch in his stomach. It was a lot to take in. Like the light elf, whom he'd noticed had a faint glow to her, he felt ill- not just for the child, but for the poor wyvern. For one of his physionomy, a truncated, scaly neck was slightly more jarring. Valac's body flattened slightly as if trying to burrow, belly scales gripping the ground. He gulped.
If Hael was right, (which he certainly was, for Valac knew the quality of his spellcasting) there were more presences nearby than they were aware of. Falsedge's deliberation that followed gave him an idea, though it might be a poor one.
"If that's the case, do you think maybe if one of us went to untie him, we wouldn't be attacked?" He meant the Cyndarans by 'we'.

"Only one way to find ou- oh no you don't." Falsedge grabbed Song by the arm and jerked her back, not about to let her squander her life at a moment like this. Nevina Nevina
 
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The naga had a point. "I'll do it." Leaving his post at the rear, Lohrithe cautiously, but quickly, went forward to retrieve the boy. The drow made quick work of the rope with a knife, dark eyes wide open to any incoming danger. Orcs were not known to use bows, so he would at least have time to prepare for a melee attack. Quickly, he hefted the unconscious child over his shoulder and made to return to the group in the trees.
 
"You're very right, we should be careful." Desrick replied to the concerns of Ora, Hael and Falsedge ( Rhaine Rhaine Flutterby Flutterby Mythee Mythee ). The djinn managed to stop her companion but Desrick narrowly missed Lohr ( Zazz Zazz ) as he slide past him. He couldn't help but ready his war axe, biting the back of his other hand as Lohr knelt to free the boy.

Tomo, upon hearing someone approach looked up. When he was freed and hoisted up on the elf's narrow shoulder's he started squirming.
"I know how to walk by myself. Be careful Lohr, those white robes might come back any minute!"

Just then something stepped into Lohr's path. It was all the incentive Desrick needed, he charged headlong into the clearing with Razah close on his heels, but stopped short when he saw that the figure had not drawn any weapon, and instead put one large, green finger to his lips.
He was thicker and taller than Desrick, and dressed in boiled leather armour adorned with the bones of many animals. A maul was secured safely to his back with a thick leather strap. He was bald save for a central strip of hair tied back against his scalp. An orc warrior, and a senior one.
"Uxul!" Desrick exclaimed, then remembered he was supposed to be quiet. He clasped hands with the old warrior of the Horgath tribe. They lived further north and Desrick had not encountered them for a long time.
The older warrior frowned past him. "Why are there lightlanders here? Are they your allies?" His brow furrowed, as if he was calculating something in his head.
At length he said: "It's not safe here. We have a camp not too far. Will you come? There are things you...and your friends, should know."
He seemed very uncomfortable as he looked at Desrick, but turned to lead the way further into the forest.
"Is this about the missing orcs? Do you know where they are?" Desrick asked eagerly, a spark of hope kindling in his eyes. He did not think to ask why there was an orc camp so close to Delan.
Another long pause before Uxul finally said: "Yes."

As Uxul continued Desrick looked back at his companions. Razah had taken her boy in her arms and was hugging him tightly.
"I must find out what happened to my people." Desrick said firmly. "But I will not hold you all to coming, it will only be if you wish it."
Razah set Tomo down and took hold his his hand. "I will be going back. I can help any who wish to return to the village."

((From this point the story is split into 2 parts for a bit. You can choose either, you can read both or not, if you like, both branches will be very fun.))

Uxul lead them past the ridge and up, further into the thick brush. Though it was hard to find, Desrick could actually see the trail they had been following to get them to the ridge where Tomo was tied. At length, they broke into a clearing and Desrick stopped in utter shock at what he saw. The brush had been cleared away almost entirely, and hide tents had been put up, set against the tusks of humongous beasts. The camp was large enough that it needed several fires to feed all that lived there, though the number of orcs milling about the site were significantly less than what the camp was built for. Surrounding the camp were three large wood spikes, each grimly displaying the head of the wyverns obviously slain so it could be built.
Desrick picked out faces of individual orcs and he frowned in confusion as he recognized some of them.
"There are orcs here from the missing villages."

Before all this had time to register however a warning horn sounded and Uxul bared his teeth as a small troop appeared on the other side of the camp. They formed perfect rows, their high elven faces expressionless under their gleaming silver helmets. Their white cloaks seemed to shine against the darkness. One soldier with a white plume in his helmet stepped forward and surveyed the camp, he caught sight of Desrick and the others...and smiled.


Razah lead them back without any trouble. "I cannot thank you enough." She said as they broke into the cleared forest and the crystal's light shone generously down on them.
"I should get Tomo home."
"No, mama wait." Tomo said, and let go of his mother's hand to stand before the group.
"The ones who kidnapped me, they didn't speak, but I saw their pointy ears, and they had light skin, they had white capes and silver armour and... they used arrows made with white feathers."

Not a moment after Tomo had finished a bell began to sound in the village square.
"That's an alarm bell." Razah said, the concern obvious on her face.
In the distance, the war cries became audible, the sound of Evereach soldiers charging fervently into battle.
Then, the screaming began.

deer deer Rough Patch Rough Patch Nevina Nevina
 
Lohrithe stood by his friend's side and followed with the two orcs and whomever else came along. Whiterobes, Tomo had said. What were whiterobes? Or who wore white robes? None of it made any sense.

They came into what was clearly an orc camp. He was sad to see the wyvern heads; they were fearsome, but beautiful beasts. Lohrithe nodded in greeting to the few orcs he knew as they passed, his sword still drawn. His skin prickled; something strange was at work, here.

A horn sounded, and the drow looked to where the newcomers had appeared. They wore white robes, and their arrows ended in... white feathers. Lohrithe brought his sword up hesitantly, unsure of why the orcs hadn't slaughtered these strange elves already. He looked to Desrick and whispered, "The Whiterobes are from Everreach."
 
Ora glanced up when the unfamiliar wood elf spoke to her, taking in his features by the light of his staff. It cast an odd light over his darker skin, and her eyes caught on the earrings and choker he wore. For monsters, the Cyndarans sure had a lot of shiny things to look at. It gave her some relief that he, and Falsedge and Desrick, agreed with her suspicion. But Lohr did not seem all that concerned. The half-dwarf watched him slip past Desrick with parted lips, but he made it all the way to Tomo, who said they must hurry before the 'white robes' returned.
They didn't make it back to the group, though. The orc that appeared was even larger than Desrick, and dressed far more fiercely. Ora's stomach flipped, and she had tightened her grip and raised her arms before it actually registered that Desrick was taking a friendly hold of the orc's hand. Slowly, she lowered her bow.

The conversation that occurred next was odd. Halted, and Uxul seemed uncomfortable and unwilling to be forthright. There was an orc camp, not far. But didn't the elves dislike the orcs being near? This orc was at the end of a trail of orc tracks, literally feet from where Tomo had been bound and left, but Desrick approached him as a friend. But, then, what were the 'white robes'?
"There is something not quite right here," She whispered. Thinking of the way he had frowned over at them, she wondered if the Sumennans should be running from this orc. But before she could think more on it, before she could call out to someone else about it, Desrick was walking one way, and Razah the other, and they had reached a fork in the path.

She had to choose. Follow Razah back to Delan, where there were no suspicious orcs, and the wood elves and the goddess had welcomed them, and there was a beautiful bed and a mother that baked. Or follow Desrick and Lohr, who had brought them into the country, guided them through the forest and the mist, who had asked for their help in finding the orcs, the uglies of this side of the world.
Her brain said she should go back to Delan, because this orc was not good news. Her heart said she should follow Desrick, because it was right to stand by him.
It was a lot harder to be brave standing in the forest terrified, than it had been talking over a bunch of brew.

The half-dwarf clenched her teeth, reknocked her arrow, and forced her feet after the two orcs and the drow. Her grip on her weapon turned her knuckles pale and her palms red.

When they stopped, her jaw dropped open. There were orcs everywhere, with tents and cooking fires and wyvern heads on stakes. She barely registered it when Desrick said that these were, in fact, the missing orcs.
But she definitely registered it when a horn sounded and rows of silver helmets appeared opposite them. Ora turned nearly as white as the capes they wore, and could only whisper, "By the mountain's peak..."
 
Rossarinya observed the She-Elf awhile longer, tilting her head to the side at the change of tempo she gave Desrick. As everyone gave their approval to join in searching for Tomo, Rossarinya took the time needed to get her bow and arrow, leaving her bag with her journal inside in the room. She could come back for it later. Once more, the company had set out on another adventure albeit a dire one between life or death, or was that too dramatic to describe. Nevertheless, the trek was quiet aside for when Desrick spoke of orc culture. But, other than that, Rossarinya drowned out everything else and focused on the task at hand. She found herself behind the rest, careful of where she stepped as her ears listened carefully while her eyes scanned the surroundings. Although not a tracker or hunter, Rossarinya made precautions as she held her bow at her side, ready to grab an arrow from behind.

The air felt heavy as Rossarinya slightly pulled her cloak closer, her hood still over her head as the light of the crystal waned in their path. Something about the area felt ominous as Rossarinya's eyes adjusted to the light or lack thereof. However, Rossarinya's stomach churned at the mention of wyvern and she could swallow down her nervousness. Books were different compared to real life. Why was she so sure she wanted to leave the safety of her home? Was she ready for this 'adventure' or did she get more than she bargained for?' Regardless, Rossarinya steered ahead, following closely behind.

"The tracks are orc."

The words rang in her head as she furrowed her brows in confusion. Why did the orcs kidnap Tomo? But, as Ora lead the pathway of the tracks, Rosasrinya inaudibly gasped when they came to a ravine. The scene at hand was a mess and Rossarinya could only bite down on her lips from making a sound. Her eyes glanced towards the boy as she squinted slightly. "Tomo. . . ?" She whispered softly, mostly to herself as she heard the newcomers ( Hael and Valac ) , Ora, Song, and Faledge speak. Her eyes landed on the headless beast and Rossarinya's stomach churned once more as she held a hand to her lips. She quickly looked away not wanting to imagine the vivid scene that played out and assume her own conclusion of what took place. But, as the group spoke amongst themselves, not sure of what to do as Falsedge held Song back, Lorithe took action, not wanting to waste any time.

Her heart cheered lightly as her eyes brighten seeing that Lohrithe was about to retrieve Tomo and the child was in fact him. But, just as Rossarinya found hope, a figure appeared only causing Desrick and Razah to move forward. Not taking any chances, Rossarinya quickly followed behind as she continued to avoid looking at the headless wyvern thought she had noticed the slight mishap of the elf and his necklace. But, just as Rossarinya stopped in her tracks before a few inches behind Desrick and Razah, she was taken aback when the figure was orc and Desrick was shaking his hand. Friendly? But, at feeling the inquisitive stare of the orc named Uxul before her, Rossarinya stood in her spot, not sure what to maketh of the male orc.

Once more, Rossarinya took a chance as her heart took a leap and she already decided on going with Desrick. There's nothing more than Rossarinya's dislike of being lied to. Usually, she had clarity of the mind of others, especially those closest to her by her observant nature. But, this was different. She involved herself in the matter when she took her brother's place either knowingly or not. Nevertheless, the truth was the fact it was through selfish desires she was in Cyndara. Nevertheless, Rossarinya turned around to take one last glance at Razah and Tomo, etching the memory in her mind before she came face-to-face with the truth.

Rossarinya was relieved to see Ora going with Desrick as she looked over to see Lorithe. Would she ever have a companion as true and brave as he that will follow her no matter the cost? Following behind them, Rossarinya kept her distance, still cautious and alert. The four that were with her now proved and earned her trust, but she was still afraid of what may happen, standing on whatever sides. But, as they made it to the clearing, the scene displayed before Rossarinya's eyes stunned her to belief. An orc camp, no, village, was laid before her eyes and it was only when Desrick stated the missing orcs were there did Rossarinya let out an inaudible gasp.

But, at the sound of a warning horn, Rossarinya's ears rang as she slightly whimpered, her lips quivering as she bit back a hiss. Her attention broke towards the the small troop forming on the other side of camp. Her eyes widened at the site of the High Elven faces and their shining , glittering armor and robes. "Those are the white robes." Rossarinya spoke-out loud in shock, stating the obvious., but she recognized it. But, when one stepped forward, Rossarinya narrowed her eyes when she spotted a smile towards them.

Making her way around, Rossarinya couldn't believe where her feet was moving her. She was frustrated, angered, confused. "What is the meaning of this?" Rossarinya demanded as she took off her hood and passively glared into the "General"'s eyes. "Why are the High Elven troops here in Cyndara when no word has been given to Evereach of an invasion?"

Her eyes looked towards the other orcs at the camp before behind to where the others were before speaking directly towards Uxul, "Were you running from them? Or is there something else going on here?" Turmoil coiled inside her as her attention went back towards the Elven troops, her words ringing with clarity in the air.

"Lies."

tags: SilverFlight SilverFlight , Flutterby Flutterby , Zazz Zazz , Mythee Mythee , Nevina Nevina , Rhaine Rhaine , Rough Patch Rough Patch
 
Desrick had taken charge and command back from Falsedge swiftly, a fact that Sen had noticed as Seltheria fell into the very back of the group. She purposefully walked slowly as if she was having difficulty in her heels in order to make certain she was the last person in their marching order. While the centre of the group was the safest place to be while travelling, she didn't trust the group enough yet to have her back and couldn't risk revealing her secret yet. It would be better to stay in the rear and vanish if needed.

She spent the walk quietly observing the others, taking down mental notes on the way they moved naturally. Studying their appearances and body language with a trained eye, nervousness seeped off the would-be rescuers as Sen could tell each one of them wondered what condition they'd find their target in. He could tell which of them expected to find a corpse by the way they slumped their shoulders, which of them had military training by how their arms swung as they walked, he could tell the mother feared the worst.

Eventually, the group had stumbled across the boy, who didn't look like he was harmed at all but was stuck out in the open with a dead wyvern in front of him. Seltheria listened to the others debate about whether or not it was a trap and cautioned one another against rushing ahead half-cocked. Seltheria actually had a solution to this and making sure the others weren't watching took a step back as they discussed.

Skin and muscle split apart from Seltheria's outer thigh, revealing a small wet pocket hidden under the skin. Sen had formed this when he'd crafted Seltheria's disguise, as he did with all his disguises, in order to store hidden small items. She had similar crevasses hidden all over her body, mostly in the breasts and buttocks which had partially been made this big for this purpose. He reached into the meat of her thigh, pulling out a small baseball sized round object, one of her many smoke bombs. With how narrow the ravine was a well-placed throw would fill the ravine and the area at the entrance where the boy was with a thick obscuring smoke. This would make it far easier for someone to approach--- annnnnd the other Drow was rushing forwards.

Sighing silently, Seltheria stuffed the bomb back into her open thigh and quickly re-knit her flesh back together as Lohr freed the boy. By the time he'd turned around and began to head back, the smoke bomb was safely hidden again and nobody was any wiser. She tensed up as Desrick charged forwards when a second Orc appeared but relaxed again when it was revealed he was a potential ally. There was something about some missing orcs and a possible detour with Desrick to go and check out an Orc tribe, the others could go straight back.

Seltheria was one of those who stepped up to go with Desrick, the opportunity to visit an Orc settlement didn't come often. Sen had impersonated Orc's before but his time in Summena had caused him to get a little rusty at it, a refresher on their language and mannerisms straight from the source would serve him greatly.

The path was thick and difficult, Seltheria was forced to remove her high-heels and walk barefoot through the woods. Sen fashioned a much tougher and thicker skin on the soles of his feet to make it a little more comfortable, it didn't help much however as Sen could have sworn Uxul was purposefully leading them through every single nettle on the forest floor.

He distracted himself from his torment by religiously memorizing all of Uxul's facial features for later use. As he was thinking of all the devious uses he could use a new Orc disguise for that they came out into the clearing which had a lovely view of the peaceful Orc Camp.

"The Wyvern heads really make it look homey," Seltheria said as Desrick realized he'd found his missing Orcs. Worryingly, Seltheria noticed he didn't look too happy about finding them here. It was at that moment that a troop of elves from Evereach appeared on the other side of the camp. Uxul didn't seem pleased at his new guests.

The whole situation had Seltheria's neck hair standing on edge and she shifted to again make sure she was at the back of the group. There was nothing to do but wait and see what the situation held, in his opinion Evereach's involvement was never a good thing, especially considering how upset Rossarinya seemed to be. All Sen could think about was how little he wanted to be arrested here... and how much he wanted one of those shiny white outfits.
 
The orc boy was alive. That he had known. He had seen the breath come quick from his lungs - that ebbing rise and fall. What he hadn't anticipated was his complete lack of harm. The boy sprung forth once he was retrieved by the star-haired drow. Energy enough to protest boyishly. His scars weren't physical. His kidnappers had left him without a bruise. The question remained: What had been gained from his abduction? Hael felt as though the answer should be obvious, staring them plain in the face without even the dignity of a mask, yet he could come to no explanation. Not enough darkness had been dispelled.

Still, a shred of light sparked amidst the air. A gift from the boy. A clue.

white robes

There was still fear in his voice. The tracks had suggested his kidnappers had been orcs, yet these two words casts doubt upon this assumption. The trail itself had been a red herring, or perhaps, once again, they were being mislead.

Before Hael could pursue a train of thought, a great, broad-shouldered figure arose from the shadows, blocking out the moment like a shadow in a doorframe. There was a trace moment of fear, hostility, the readying outcry of flight or fight that overtook the companions, yet it was all diminished as recognition took to Desrick's features. He addressed the taller orc by name. The two clasped hands in greeting, and the faint light casting from Hael's staff diminished. The encroaching dimness about his frame returned with all the swiftness of a match burning out.

Hael listened. There was little his dark, auburn-whiskey gaze missed.

There was a settlement. Talk of missing orcs. More to the story that Hael had been ignorant of, and he knew it was only the beginning. There was much more to uncover, and with the choice of turning back or going further into the thick-pitched woods, Hael did not hesitate. He looked to Valac, closest to him.

"You may go back, Valac, if you wish it. I would not think any less of you, only, in truth, I would miss your company." He knew the boy would not retreat. It was the quest he had sought, along side the summer-dwellers. Still, he knew Valac was inclined to follow him. To draw him into danger was the last thing he wanted. He would leave it to his choice, of course, though that old worry played soft at the back of his mind. Half-apprentice or no, he felt some responsibility for his friend. He could not know what it was that lay ahead. Hael still in part believed it to be a trap. The boy's rescue had been effortless, and he himself unscathed. What else then did it serve but to draw them out?

Hael followed, strong grip tight on his staff, though his posture was easy. He traveled beneath shadow, eyes wandering lightly over their party, looking back only once to those they left behind.

He was glad to see the mother and child reunited, of course, though he doubted they were truly safe just yet.

Time spent in reflection, their arrival seemed to come all too quickly. The sight that greeted them stopped him in his tracks for a pervading moment. It was a wyvern's head, stuck gruesome upon a spike. A spectacle. A boast.

A waste.

He looked - torn between casting his eyes away in respect or letting the image burn in his gaze. The longer he looked, the further the sight set his teeth on edge. He continued on, following, greeted by the sight of the other two heads upon spikes. His expression was stormy, brow set low, yet his eyes remained open, un-bittered, for the moment.

"The Wyvern heads really make it look homey,"

"Indeed." His low voice came abnormally sharp, though dulled by the air. The word was sour on his tongue. Not a curse, yet close enough.

The appearance of the shining figures in their traipsing lines distracted his thoughts for the moment. It seemed these lightlanders were less of a rarity than previously suspected. They had come in droves, yet the sun-kissed companions of their group did not seem to display any warmth, nor former knowledge of their arrival. Hael looked to the noble she-elf, far before she stepped forward, before her words came falling sharp and cold as hale. He was gaging her reaction. Certainly, these were her kin. Perhaps they knew of her. He half suspected still that she held dominion over them, that someone was missing this king's daughter - that she had stolen away into the fog-dripped night. Yet, it was outrage he saw, brimming forth upon her face.

Their ears were sharp as blades, high framed faces seeming to give off their own light. Kin enough, though he could not have looked more stranger to them if he had dreamed up his own visage.

He looked again to the nearest spike, face dangerously neutral as he took in the decaying beast's head. It lay at the corner of his eye. It wouldn't leave him.

The she-elf was the first to speak, still in the wake of that pealing horn, meeting the smile of the prominent soldier with the agitated toss of her hood.

Certainly, any suspicion he had of the she-elf's nobility was in no question now. She spoke as if she held command over them, justified or no. It was the truth she was seeking, and he knew it was one shared by her companions. He looked to the horned-woman, the drows, Desrick. Why else would they have come? If not for answers?

He spied the orc that had lead them, the one called Uxul.

"And what of this camp? The wyverns," He spoke calm, brimming beneath his surface with quiet tenacity. He looked to the heads upon the spikes. "-their nest has been made a tomb. There must have been a reason, some necessity, by which your troop has chosen this place... and even so... why display them in this manner? They are fearsome beasts, but majestic ones too. Their lives and dignity have been spent... I wonder... for what prize?"


tags: SilverFlight SilverFlight Flutterby Flutterby Mythee Mythee Rough Patch Rough Patch deer deer Zazz Zazz
 
Desrick looked on in utter shock as the soldiers formed their rows and the captain stepped into the midst of the camp, seemingly without fear. His long hair was the colour of spun gold and his eyes the frigid hue of glacial ice. He saw the group collected close to Uxul and recognition dawned on his face, though perhaps only for the clothing and complexion of fellow Sumennans. He did not know them personally. He smiled broadly even as Rossarinya shouted at him in outrage. deer deer
"Oh! You're safe!" He threw his arms wide. "Summrbrynde be blessed! Are you all here? That is splendid! I was about to send forces out to look for you. My name is Captain Lassard."
Desrick eyes the rows of serious warriors. "They must be valuable scouts indeed. To send so many soldiers for their return." The elf's eyes flicked briefly to Desrick before he brushed past him, ignoring his comment all together.
"Your ordeal is over now, you may come and rest at our camp. All will be revealed in due course." He gestured past his soldiers and motioned for the Summenan party to break away from the Cyndarans they had come to call friends. "My second in command will escort you personally."
The orcs watched this display, thought not a one spoke.

Around the camp there were small signs of planning, a great table stood by a large tent on which lay a map of orcish make, depicting Delan and the surrounding forest. The crystal drawn in great detail at the center of the square. A circle had been drawn hastily in charcoal around it with lines leading to specific points in the forest around the small town.

Uxul looked down at Hael as he inquired about the gruesome display of wyvern heads. He seemed almost guilty as he answered: "The location was strategic. The wyverns fought, they received honorable deaths. The heads are a symbol of our strength in the victory over them." It was clear he did not want to say more to the wood elf, he was hiding something. Rhaine Rhaine

"Why are you here?" Desrick growled the question at Lassard; he was beginning to lose patience. Why were the orcs just standing there? Why were they allowing an armed force into their camp unchallenged? He didn't realize Uxul had closed the step between them.

Finally Lassard turned to Desrick, his perfect brow creased in a delicate frown. All the orcs were watching now, looking from the captain to the group that had just come from Delan. "This is the one?" The captain asked. Uxul said nothing, but nodded.
"Very well."
Desrick didn't even have time to take a breath. A sharp, hot pain lanced through his side. Uxul withdrew the dagger, then pulled back and struck him across the head with the hilt.
He fell, clutching at the red stain blossoming onto his white shirt. He couldn't speak, he could barely breathe, and through the fog of his rattled head he could just barely make out words...

"Desrick Larkwing you have been branded a traitor by your people." Lassard spoke in a loud and commanding tone. "You failed to defend their interests and instead stood by while they were forced to the very limits of land rightfully won. The penalty for that...is death."

The mood of the crowd was mixed. As the orcs looked on some were obviously shocked and outraged at the underhanded attack. Some looked on with grim satisfaction.
"I want the rest of the troops organized," Lassard continued, returning to the head of his forces "we need to support the main force until the crystal is firmly in our possession!"

Slowly the orcs began to move, leaving only a small force to encircle their unexpected guests. Uxul stood within the circle, over Desrick, the bloody dagger still in one huge hand. There was a war happening on his face, but for the moment, he did not move.

deer deer Zazz Zazz Flutterby Flutterby Mythee Mythee Rough Patch Rough Patch Rhaine Rhaine
 
It happened before Lohrithe could even process the betrayal of the "missing" orcs, before he could grasp what was really going on, here. Desrick was on the ground, blood on his shirt. The drow looked from his friend to the bloody blade in a green hand, one his friend had just shaken. Desrick had trusted this man, and Uxul had the audacity to stab him - quite literally - in the back. Lohrithe's bare chest rose in anger and outrage, nostrils flaring, dark eyes drenched with disgust.

The drow raised his sword and got up in Uxul's face, lips curled in a snarl as he spoke. His voice grew loud and deep, as he had learned in his training with the orcs, and his glare bore deep into the cowardly eyes of the green head above him. "How dare you?! You disgrace your people with such an attack! You dare call your own a traitor? What of yourself, siding with the real enemy against your own people! Shame on you, voz-kri! (Egg head)" The tip of his sword jabbed the orc at his chest.
 
The smile upon the High Elven's lips only caused her to narrow her eyes as shivers went down her spine. But, as he threw his arms out wide, Rossarinya took a step back unconsciously. Rossarinya could only look upon Captain Lassard with bottled anger at his display of flair and show. Scouts looking for them? What ever for? She doubted his earnest care. At the same time Rossarinya commented in her head of the audacity of Captain Lassard, Desrick commented his piece only for it to go over the golden haired, glacial eyed elf. Nevertheless, hearing Captain Lassard's command for her and Ora to follow his second-in-command to rest and leave the Cyndarans was a move she didn't want to make. Rossarinya didn't want to follow the soldiers or rather trusted any of them. None of them she knew. All her questions would be revealed later? Why not now? Why the rush? Rossarinya could only feel something sinister amidst and she knew it was transparent that she wouldn't be getting the answers she seeked even if her own kin promised. It was only mockery and pleasantries of promises fading out like the light.

And just within an instant, Rossarinya had let out a blood-curling scream she didn't know she was capable of letting out, "Desrick!"

Rossarinya stood there stunned, frozen as she looked ahead as Desrick's body fell to the ground. Time moved still as her eyes stared upon betrayal of what was a friend only to be stabbed in the back. Hot tears flashed, appearing around her eyes as her hand shook against her side, bow in hand. Her shoulders slumped slightly as she listened to the edict emitting from the High Elven's voice, a commandeering tone she thought she could leave behind. But couldn't. Soliders were in Cyndara. Her people were in Cyndara. Take the crystal?

Her head whipped around quickly hoping she heard wrong. But, alas, she did not. Orcs slowly gathered around them as Rossarinya gazed upon the faces of each orc, gauging their expression. She felt small, little once more, useless. "You will it? Rossarinya spoke, her eyes bore surprise, confusion, desperation and pleaded that what she was witnessing was not the truth. Was it a nightmare? Is it all a lie? But, no matter how much she willed herself that she was dreaming, her knees buckled as she found herself losing all composure.

She found herself only turning back towards the image of her fallen friend when Lohrithe snarled, voicing out his pain and vexation. A part of her whimpered before she gripped her bow tighter, slowly moving towards Ora and the wood Elf as she looked upon the staff. She wanted to be near only those she knew she could trust. Seeing is believing. Once she stood close to the wood Elf, lifting up her head as her eyes bore into his, Rossarinya spoke in a whisper, not believing she was asking an elf for aid, but he was of Cyndara not Summena. Her voice gave way to a shaky, almost vulnerable disposition, "Please." She began, "We do not know each other. But, you came to our aid to help find Tomo. If there is a chance, if you have the ability, will you be able to heal him? We can't. . . . we can't lose him." Rossarinya finished, as a slight choking sob escaped her lips, her breath airy as she tried to reel in all the emotions appearing upon her frame.

However, her attention was drawn back to Uxul and Lohrithe when she heard the sound of a sword jabbing into flesh. Her eyes widened once more. It was the only action she needed.

Quickly wiping her tears, she shook her head, turning around as she feigned confidence and bravery. Word slipped out of her mouth like honey as she raised up her bow, taking an arrow from its holder, as she nooked it, aiming her arrow towards Uxul's head.

"Cyndara's light. You are allowing them to take it? Is it not part of your livelihood? If you allow them to take it, Cyndara, herself, may just turn in herself! Will anyone be safe anymore? Did Cyndara's light not protect civilisation where it touched? Keeping the darkness of the forest out?" She started, her voice raising an octave higher as she found herself growing more stable to speak up.

"You say you have been betrayed. But are you now turning your back on yourselves? I may not know about orc culture, but regardless of culture, a stab in the back is despicable and not worthy of praise or satisfaction! What did those High Elves say they will give you? What deals have you made with them? Did they allow you safety to live in the aftermath? No, don't tell me." Rossarinya paused, her hands shaking in anger once more as she pulled the strings back of her bow, ready to let it loose.

"You will never get what you desire. If you have sided with Summena, you are fools to believe you will ever get what was promised. They don't care, once your use is done, what happens then? Cunning and manipulative is the Summenan way. Will you allow yourselves to stoop so low?" Her voice grew louder and without knowing, her hand slowly glowed, basking in a warm , yellow light.

tags: SilverFlight SilverFlight , Zazz Zazz , Flutterby Flutterby , Rhaine Rhaine , Mythee Mythee , Rough Patch Rough Patch
 
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Uxul stepped back as Lohr threatened him with the blade, then with a snarl he smacked it away from his chest with a careless backhand.
"What do you know elf? You hold yourself like an orc, but you understand nothing of what we've suffered." He motioned for two more orcs--likely soldiers under his command--to restrain Lohr. "This one does not speak anymore! His petulant barking offends me."
Rossarinya's voice broke through and had enough strength that Uxul turned to face her.
"Cyndara's light? Hmmph! My people have not felt the light of the crystal for a very long time. That honor is taken by the wood elves and other gutless worms who push us from our lands. They abhor battle, but are like thieves in the night, making rules and using our code to hold us to them. The crystal is worth nothing to me, my people have lived long enough without it. The Sumennans can have every crystal in Cyndara, and we'll see how well wood elves do against the forest's rage."
For one moment, as Rossarinya's arrow was pointed straight at his face, Uxul looked fearful, then, his eyes showing nothing but anger and frustration. Lohr's words, as well as the words of the light elf woman had stung him in their truth. "If you don't believe we were robbed...then ask him." He spat on the ground by Desrick and turned to prepare his men.
"Bind the traitor and cage the ones who resist. Put them with the other prisoner."
deer deer Zazz Zazz

Lassard wasn't paying attention to Uxul, or the dark elf threatening him. He was watching Rossarinya through cold eyes. He was listening to her. Suddenly his bright, relieved demeanour thinned, betraying something far more sinister beneath.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you." He spoke slowly to Hael before turning back to Rossarinya. "Be careful my lady, your words are edging very close to treasonous. You wouldn't want to galvanize your friends into doing something foolish now...would you? Murdering an orc right in front of his warband sounds like a bad idea to me."
Rhaine Rhaine deer deer
 
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But the drow was faster than the lumbering orcs. Gaining a firm, two-handed grip on his greatsword, Lohrithe charged at one of the two orcs with a battle cry and swiped clean from the brute's collar to his hide. Blood gushed as the orc looked on in surprise, then fell to his death. The drow was not, however, fast enough to resist being restrained by the second orc, and ended up dropping his sword in the struggle to wriggle free. He snarled and clawed at the arms holding him, until he bit down hard on green flesh, tearing at it. "Desrick, get UP!"
 
Ora shifted toward the back of the group as the High Elf commander approached, thinly veiled distrust flashing across her face. Her entire being wanted to run, from the orcs, from the elves, from everyone standing in this little gathering.
Something. was. very. wrong.
But she couldn't tell what it was, so how could she warn her companions?

The elf invited them over to their camp, and from the back of the group, Ora whispered, "We shouldn't separate. We should make our own camp." Her input was too soft to be heard, too uncertain- but it wouldn't have made a difference anyway. Desrick challenged the elf leader, and paid the price. Ora's hand flew to her mouth and pressed to her lips to keep herself silent. Her hands inched toward her swords, but never landed. There were too many orcs, too many soldiers.

Lohr attacked almost instantly, which was unsurprising, but Rossarinya surprised Ora more everyday. Their speeches seemed to make a dent in the armor of the orc leader, but it wasn't enough. He was in too deep, too far committed, to turn back now.
One orc fell to die next to Desrick, and the situation had escalated much farther than it should have.
"Lohr! Be still, for sky's sake!" Ora shouted, suddenly, sharply. She could only pray the orcs would pause before ripping the dark elf apart. She wormed her way forward, and addressed Rossarinya quickly.
"Rossarinya, lower your weapon. You'll be dead in an instant if you strike. You can't win this battle like this." Her tone was softer with the elf woman, as she eyed her glowing hands. The small woman reached out, and tried to guide Rossarinya's arms to a more relaxed state.
Zazz Zazz deer deer

Her eyes turned to Lassard next, appraising him. Her expression was guarded, as close to unreadable as she could get. Even though her tone was flat, her voice held a dark note when she spoke to him.
"Imagine our surprise to find you all here. This, was not the mission we were sent on. Hard to trust allies that don't share their plans." There was a pause, and she gestured to Desrick. "You had perhaps the only being that could take your alliance with the orcs and shape it into something more, something useful in the aftermath. What a wasted opportunity, Captain. I'm surprised someone trained by Evereach didn't see the value of having an orc diplomat along, even as a contingency plan."
She looked over at Lohr, gesturing a little, with a slight frown. "As you can see, he cultivates intense loyalty in his allies. The foolhardy kind, apparently." Internally, she baulked at using such unkind words, but they couldn't all die standing here.
Ora didn't know if she was just trying to keep herself alive, or if she was truly making an attempt to save them all. What she knew for sure, was that this elf had all of the power, and appealing to him was better than trying to shoot him.
SilverFlight SilverFlight
 
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A greeting, not meant for him, a warning, a betrayal, all beneath the blinking, pervading stars. They were all shrouded in the wake of the wyvern heads, mere subjects, spectacles of judgment beneath their dead, glass gaze. Hael felt this force like rain about the crown of his head.

He had remained silent at Uxul’s half-explanation in regards to the wyverns. All he had gained from his words was something he had already known: the orc was hiding something. No more, no less. It was not worthy of remark. He only laid his eyes upon him, impassive, before the shining Captain’s words pervaded the air - similar in nature to a chilling, false breeze. His easy disregard for the she-elf’s passionate sincerity and authority irked him. He raised a thick brow, but displayed no more. As the slithering sliver of an elf continued, Hael felt something rising - tactile in the air, inevitable.

The senior orc, the one Desrick had clasped hands with, greeted as a friend only minutes ago, had struck a silent blow. Desrick fell. Hael’s eyes were drawn to the crimson sprung forth like water from the ground. If he were cut, he would bleed the same shade. In only the short burst of time he had been acquainted with him, he had recognized his generosity - forthright and earnest. A seeker of truth. A providing hand to the lost, struck down in as unjustly a way as possible. His breath caught in his throat. The she-elf’s scream struck like a blow, ringing, echoing. The group skittered and shuddered, attempting to rationalize so significant an act, too quick to catch. Hael’s grip on his staff was crushingly tight.

The words thrown against Uxul were sharp, yet his protests, masked as reason, yet starkly disillusioned, sung profoundly dissonant.

"You think you will be able to bear it, fine ... submit to these thieves whom you curse in the same breath as relenting to them. Watch as Cyndara rises up, and swallows us all in her breadth. There will be no talk of race ... of robbing, when we are all made to suffer."

”jˈɑur ˈɛruj”

“You... you will remember. You lead the way. And these," He nodded to the wyvern heads, then to Desrick, "-only the first of the ... honorable deaths you will be responsible for."

The male drow wasted no time, burdened in his fury, making up for not preventing the unpreventable. Tensions sung. Audible. Hael buzzed for action, the Mystic hum in his chest risen to attention.

The she-elf had come close, without his immediate notice, yet now he was under her pleading emerald gaze. He staggered unwittingly beneath her dismayed vulnerability, her plight. He hadn’t needed her to ask, would have done what he could all the same, yet now it was as certain as death. He gave the slightest of nods, connection hung taut, the gesture weighed as heavy as their burdens. His dark gaze was solid, determined. He hoped she understood his conviction, his intention.

She was addressing the elven Captain, yet there would be no reasoning with him. He had the sunken, pale-shaded eyes of a miser. He had one desire, and all who interfered would know little regard. All the while, Hael was formulating his intention. His energy began to flood forth into his fingertips. He was devising a plan - gradual, subtle, but action none the less.

The telling, faint, yet striking glow in the she-elf’s hand, the one that would let loose her arrow, was the final mark of inspiration he needed.

The horned-woman was a calming presence, one of true reason, preservation, yet Hael hardly felt it in the moment. She guided the she-elf, Rossarinya, to lower her weapon, let go of her striking mark.

As the male drow broke forth from those that would restrain him, striking down one of his would-be captors with frightening, impassioned ease, he unwittingly provided the opportunity Hael had been looking for.

He briefly grasped Rossarinya’s wrist, the hand where her light shone forth, and in the same breath, he had casted a spell, low beneath the clamor of conflict.

It was all he could do. The spell would only stay Desrick's bleeding. The wound was not healed, still subject to infection, yet his life, with hope, had been preserved. Desrick was strong, yet even the strongest could not push forth with their life bled out upon the earth beneath them. He had had to do something - something that would not be noticed.

It took only a moment, yet Hael was left faint in its wake. He let go of her wrist, leaning against his staff. He straightened his posture the best he could. It was dire that his action remained unnoticed, yet the weakness in his legs raged forth, knees aching to buckle. He hardly had the strength to remain upright, the practiced consciousness it took in every moment, yet his resolve was strong. To cast a healing spell without touching the ailing - it was advanced magic. Hael’s long, umber-grey face was wrought pale, yet it might have been mistaken for faintness in the face of atrocity. He remained neutral of expression, though his eyes were hard as stone. He wished to do more, yet he remained, drawing closer to Valac in his temporary vulnerability.

tags: SilverFlight SilverFlight Flutterby Flutterby deer deer Zazz Zazz Mythee Mythee Rough Patch Rough Patch
 
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