Fantasy The Seed of Life: Awakening

Dragongal · May 23, 2016

Solana Petyra

The fact that Charlie was a fire caster added to the urgency to get him on his feet, since a scared caster - especially a young one - was dangerous to be around. It might have been insulting to say, but she knew it to be true, having worked with Sur for her whole life. The half-elf boy was no different, as had already been shown by the burst of fire from his hands. Solana kept an eye on Hal when he had touched Charlie, since she didn't know if this cursed affliction could be passed through touch somehow.

As Charlie stood, Solana nodded and wrapped her free arm around his shoulders. At least she could help him with this, if nothing else. He was right in that they needed to move if someone had attacked him, but he would need to rest at some point. She took the time to loosen one of her daggers in its sheath before returning her attention to him. "Okay. I'll help you, don't worry about it, okay? Together we can keep up just fine."

The question remained, though, if there was an enemy, how would they deal with it? Where was it? And would it attack again? Solana didn't anticipate Charlie slowing the team down much, but any risk could cause problems. Finally she glanced up at Hal. "How much further, do you think? If we must be out after nightfall, we should take time for precautions at some point."

Elle Joyner · May 23, 2016

At last, one of them seemed to take note of the danger surrounding them. It was difficult, she understood, with all that was going on to focus entirely on each detail, but the fact was, there was a threat, very real, and very close, in their midst. Charlie might have been saved, but it wouldn't end with him. Hal's observations were wise and entirely in line with Wyn's thought process. Even if the Shadow casters had moved on, where had they moved on to? The Seed was not safe, they were not safe and lingering... it was not an option. Unfortunately, at least for a few minutes, they were in no position to hurry on.

Charlie seemed, at last, to come out of his stupor and as he squeezed her hand she held still. It was strange, the feeling of wanting to comfort someone... It was something she'd never imagined she might experience again, after what had happened at the monastery. But Wynleth would always be Wynleth, and nothing... not even the worst of what she'd seen could change that. He seemed like a good man, and willing to go to great lengths to save lives and for that, she was grateful - and she would do what she needed to, to ease the pain of what he'd just endured. Graciously, he too seemed to understand the need for haste.

Rising to her feet, she held out a hand with a small nod, "I can help..." There were men and women both who were much stronger than she... but in the end they would need their strongest on alert. She was useless with a weapon and possibly more pitiful with her magic. It was decidedly in all their best interest for her to tend to Charlie, while they prepared for a fight. If a fight came, and she had a terrible feeling they weren't going to luck out...

"Weapons out, if you have them. Be on guard... And no one look at their shadows." She reminded, grimly. Things were going to get worse. Just how much worse was the question. There was no point in denying it, for the morale of the group. Circumstances were dire, and it wouldn't be long before they came up against the Shadow, again. It pained her to think that they would come so close and fail - that the Seed might fall into the hands of their enemy - but they couldn't let that happen. No matter what. No matter how many of them fell, or failed. They had to drive on... they had to recover it.

This, she finally understood, was why her father and Remi had sacrificed everything. This was what Arun and the others had died for. Their lives mattered, but they had made the choice to forfeit them, in order to ensure that others could continue. Silently she prayed that would not be necessary for them on this mountain journey, but already they had come so close...

@Effervescent, @CloudyBlueDay

Red Thunder · May 27, 2016

Trynten Lothorsen

Dammit. Tryn had thought for sure that even the impressive greed of these bandits would be drowned in by fear of the predatory Tainted. Alas, if even the Shadow spawn's dread couldn't shake them...

He glanced at Inara. The she-elf still looked as though she would try to pay the marauders off. But that would never work: the thieves would likely kill them regardless, leaving them as a distraction for the incoming Tainted. Well they may both die, but they would not die alone.

"You neglected a fourth option, sir." His hand on his hip, it moved to grasp the hilt of his dagger on the back of his belt. He gave Inara a significant, apologetic look. "You can all go together."

With a fluid motion, Tryn cast the long knife at the nearest archer with every bit of strength his desperation could muster. Using his momentum, Tryn spun in a tight circle, drawing his sword. It flashed in the light as he swung at Inara's horse, catching it in its shoulder. He prayed the cut was shallow and that the pain and shock of it would drive the steed back the way they'd come and to safety.

I hope she forgives me for wounding her.

Now behind him, the bandit leader had stepped back, yanking forth a sword of his own and calling out for reinforcements. But the woodsman turned back to face him with an almost animalistic speed, and only the leader's frantic haste kept him from losing his head right then.

"They come, sir," Trynten whispered under his breath as they locked their blades together, keeping his eyes on the swords. "And believe me when I say, a Tainted's nose is uniquely keen at finding a coward's scent. The more time you have to fly, the better." He raised his voice, ensuring that the other dozen could hear. "And gold is of little value to the dead!"

@Rissa @Effervescent

Space Cowboy Ein · May 28, 2016

Azzara Omari

Azzara watched wide-eyed as the shade disintegrated in her hands. The bits that slipped between eventually turned to nothingness. That was it? They just....went away? It was a little disheartening, to say the least, that there was nothing else she could do to aid the current situation. Her gaze swung over to Charlie, now surrounded by Solana and Wyn. The two could likely tend to him better than she could now. Her relief for his survival was dulled with a pang of guilt for the additional pain she was forced to put him through. It would not reflect poorly on her, she knew this much, but it bothered her nonetheless. He was clearly shaken, as was the group. But it would have been far, far worse if she had failed...

--------------- 14 Years Ago ---------------

Azzara sat in a pool of her own blood mixed with that of a young man with her sword lodged in his chest curled up beside her. She'd pierced his lung and he would die slowly.

The less populated lands of Maldvir were unforgiving at times, and wanderers always fell victim to highwaymen on particular stretches of land. It was a fact of life that didn't worry the young practitioner of the Inner Light that much, it was her companion she was worried about. It wouldn't have been her first run in with ne'er do wells, except these were of the shadow caster variety. They struck while Azzara was gathering fire for their camp in the woods. She dropped everything at the sound of her friend's

shrieking, Azaire was a stoic man and never shouted like that unless something was terribly wrong. As peaceful as she was taught to be, a young Azzara would come in sword drawn.

She was ambushed before she could fully return. Three young casters came to meet her, three were felled. By the time she broke into the clearing of the small camp, her white robes were red. "Azaire!" She called out frantically. From the tent she could hear movement and labored, erratic breathing. Azzara's eyes went wide and she made a dash for the tent. Inside was her beloved Azaire, spasming violently within the upon the sheets they had occupied not an hour earlier. His lips moved but his words were either too low or made no sense, she wanted to imagine he was calling to her. She knew what this was, a shade, but how could it have reached him from under her nose?

There was no time to wonder though as she dropped to her knees by his side. Her sword was stuck to the ground as she tore at his shirt's fabric until she could she his bare skin. She scanned him as light built up in her hands, she was unsure. She'd never extracted a shade before, she could kill him. But if she waited... "I'm sorry.." She whispered, eyes growing red and threatening to spill. She shut her eyes and pressed both hands firmly down against him and searched. His ensuing screams were guttural, primal, he wasn't the same man anymore. With a crazed expression on her face she continued to thrust her light into him, even as his eyes rolled back and his cries began to quiet. She could feel the shade, it was there, but she was simply too weak to pull it out. Every time she tried, Azaire's body would jerk, a wheeze of air now all the signaled that he was still there. Teardrops blotted his dark chest and had long since blurred Azzara's vision. Eventually he stopped reacting. "No...nononononono!" Her hands shook violently as she took them from his chest and clasped his face with them. She leaned in/pulled his mouth to her ear and shut her eyes. "Azaire..." Was all she could manage between ugly sobs.

Outside a single pair of footsteps approached the tent.

The sound sparked against Azzara's sadness and lit it into a blaze of anger. The casters were to blame for this. They were still here, and she'd make them pay. She whipped around, grabbed up her sword and with a howl launched herself at her assailant. The young man had no time to react and was bowled to the ground. The two were a tangle of limbs for a moment, and at the end he was on top of her with a hand at her neck and another reaching for her waistband. She snarled at him, teeth gnashing against each other in a vain attempt to get at one of his fingers. She felt his cold hands against the bottom of her stomach and panic set in. But it was a panic that brought clarity, and a realization of what she was a follower of. In a flash of light and a yelp of pain, the caster was off of her and clutching his side. Azzara clambered over to her sword and was upon him in moments.

With a single thrust she doomed him to darkness.

Azzara was tersely broken from her trance by the conversation of her companions. Sad eyes rested on Charlie and she released a sigh. This was only the beginning. She drew her sword and continued to the front of the group. "I agree with Wynleth. The shadow casters will toil tirelessly after us now. If you see something that looks even a little bit off, tell me." Her eyes drifted to Hal. She was much more serious now. "If that shade has been with us for some time, then we will run into a fight somewhere between here and the Mouth. Do you know of any indirect routes to get us there?"

@Effervescent @Elle Joyner

Doctor Jax · May 28, 2016

Tza'Hal

The orc was, in rapid succession, bashed in the head by Charlie's forehead, near frostbitten from kneeling in the snow, and flash-baked by the errant flames Charlie cast in his panic as the shade was pulled from him. She had never seen a successful extraction -- her only dealings with those who cast shadows were while in the military, and the Orc way of dealing with those sorts of things was the fastest, simplest, and most efficient: a stab through the throat. However, if there were casters, they would be in the wings of the stage, not at the forefront. They would refrain from coming out of their dark hideaways for the time being. She checked over herself to be sure she was not permanently wounded, and she merely -- merely -- had a burn on her right forearm, several singed finger hairs, and perhaps half the eyebrows she'd started this trip with. For the first time, she was doubly glad she had shaved her head as a member of the Order. Had she the long hair she'd sported prior, she would also be rolling in the snow in an effort to put it out. Instead, her pate was merely a bit toasty.

"I agree. They will track us. Better some stay and keep them occupied, to be sure they are not following. I believe we draw closer to the Seed."

She put a respectful hand on Azzara's shoulder, smiling with almost grisly glee.

"Hal, your friend seems less and less disreputable. The more shadowcasters, the more effort went into this search. Tread lightly. I can stay and search out those who throw these Shades."

She looked to Wynleth, who seemed perhaps the most disheartened, and Solana, who seemed perhaps the most calm with Charlie, who did not seem too worse for wear besides the mental ordeal he'd suffered. While she'd had no true workings with the Shadow herself, she had read the accounts of those who'd survived such a trial. He would recover, but perhaps she should approach him about what he had seen. The Shadow knew nothing but lies, and they told as much.

"Whether or not Charlie is fit to go on ahead, I think it prudent some of us act as a rear guard none the less. Solana, Charlie, perhaps we three should bring up the rear. Solana is a healer, Charlie needs rest, and I--"

What reason could she have for staying back? Her motives were less pure than merely protection. How many men did she lose to Shadowcasters?

"-- am trained well in the art of close combat. Let us hope the Shadowcasters are not as spritely with swords as they are with shadow."

RZA · May 29, 2016

Inara Belanor

She had sensed the darkness shortly after Tryn’s bellowed warning. Her connection to the earth was wavering with loss of concentration, but she needed it to stay with her. She scanned her surroundings once more, taking note of where each archer was positioned. Inara had no time to wonder if her small ruse had worked too well and Trynten would be unable to tell that she was planning their escape. The mare beneath her neighed anxiously, and Inara felt the same.

Her head shot to the left as her companion spoke. “You neglected a fourth option, sir.” Out of the corner of her eye she saw his arm twitch behind his back. “You can all go together.”

For a moment she didn’t understand what he said and as comprehension dawned, Tryn’s arm flailed backwards as if in slow motion and he sent a dagger soaring through the air. It buried itself deep within the chest of the archer closest to her. Before she could even think of what to do next her companion spun and brought his sword down upon her horse. The arc of the swing brought the blade into contact with her leg, just below her knee.

There was a bite of pain, but she wore Sur leather and it had only just gave way. She could feel blood but Inara could tell it wasn’t deep. As for her mare’s wound, she couldn’t be too sure. The mare snorted in pain, rearing and backing up. There were shouts from the men in the treeline and she could hear the sounds of blades kissing each other.

Another Tainted howl enveloped the two groups and for a moment everyone fell still. Inara used the moment to her advantage, calling her magic with every ounce of her being.

In her mind's eye she could see the archers; their stances, where they were located, and what plants grew around them. Her magic gathered within her and she released it at it’s peak. She conjured three vines, using them as extensions of her own arms. The vines snatched away the bows trained on her companions, snapping them to pieces.

Grabbing her own bow from around her shoulders, she used the safety Tryn provided her to take two shots at the roadblock men. When another howl rang through the trees no one stopped what they were doing. A few men stood willing to fight, but most were fleeing. She knocked another arrow and let it free, but it fell short by a few feet.

“Get ready my friends, the beast is coming.”

Effervescent · May 30, 2016

The Northern Mountains

Hal brought a hand to his lips, the calloused palms brushing over the skin abrasively as he contemplated their situation. Was Charlie even in a condition to be aided and moved? He looked over to Wynleth first to gauge her reaction to the boy's suggestion, and then to the very woman that pulled the affliction from his body. His chest rose as he took in a deep, calming breath. This was unlike anything he had ever encountered. This was not a fight against Baladuri oppressing natives or even their own people. This was something...more... The way the experienced spoke and readied themselves made him understand just a little more, though he wondered if he would ever fully comprehend. Clapping a hand on Charlie's shoulder, he gave him a friendly smile.

"Your courage is commendable," he said, and then nodded to Wynleth and Solana in quiet thanks for their aid in helping Charlie continue the journey. He looked over to Tza'Hal as he brought his hand to the pommel of his sword and returned to the head of the group. The orc had a point, and it only made things considerably more pertinent that they get to the Mouth of the Mountain as soon as possible.

"We're on the most direct route possible," he stated as he continued forward, his pace a little more quick than before. With each step he had to remind himself that it was still cold; that others were not used to the altitudes of the Northern Mountains. They still carried the white of snow further up their slopes, and while the Mouth of the Mountain was a shorter mountain than the others that surrounded it, hypothermia was still a concern he had to keep in mind with outsiders. "It's a few hours from here. If we were to go an indirect path we would add on an extra hour or two."

He pointed towards the valley before them, and then the mountains to either side. "Going through this path will lead us straight to our destination," he explained. The mountains on either side that created the valley at their bases spoke for themselves as to why it would be ill advised. They were tall, nearly the same height even, and miles wide. It was a choke hold and their only option if they meant to reach the Seed of Life before any Shadow Caster. He hoped the ones that followed them did not know the land as well as he.

The trip towards the Mouth of the Mountain was met with tension that grew as the air grew colder. For hours they were met with no conflict but the nip at their noses and the clouds of vapor from their breaths. The Mouth of the Mountain looked smaller than the surrounding white behemoths, but its appearance looked far more menacing. Its jagged rocks gave it the appearance of a wolf howling into the blue sky, and from its maw jutted a tall, leafless tree. Eventually during their ascent up the mountain's face, they became exposed and left the forest of evergreens behind. Climbing took effort in both mind and body as anyone ill prepared would find their bones chilled and aching and numb.

Hal halted at the top, his hand grabbing hold of a thick branch of the tree that stuck out from the mountain's mouth. There was a faint warmth that billowed from the darkness within the open cavern below. Ice formed around the upper branches making them slick.

"Is everyone with us?" he called through the wind. "We're going to climb down. We can make camp down below and get some rest before we head out again. How are you fairing, Charlie?"

@Elle Joyner @Space Cowboy Ein @Doctor Jax @Dragongal @CloudyBlueDay @JDParadox @BookWyrm

On the Road to Lauderdine

The men comprising the road block furrowed their brows at Trynten's words, their leader sneering in the brief moment before the rugged Thall moved quickly in action. They barely had time to call out orders or react as the first archer fell backwards and fell in a motionless heap. His arrow let loose in the fall and flew towards the back of an axeman's knee. Vines snatched away a pair of bows from their weilders, and in return they unsheathed their daggers to slice through the flora.

The rest advanced upon the pair as Trynten clashed his blade with their leader's. "They come, sir," Trynten said in a hushed tone.

"Good thing I ain't a coward," the man said as he swiped his blade out of the lock. His leg moved to try and kick Trynten squarely in the chest before rushing to mount the man's horse. Atop the steed, he brought his blade back down upon Trynten. Anything to wound the man seemed to be his goal.

And in his focus, he completely missed the Tainted descending upon them. There were four of them, each one already tearing through the flesh of anyone who lingered. They were beastly looking creatures like ill formed wolves, elongated and large. Their fangs were sharp and stained in the blood of their freshkills as their claws dug into the flesh. Their goal did not look to be that of feeding, for as soon as one man fell silent, they moved onto the next. It wasn't long until one of the Tainted set their eyes upon Inara and charged in a primal fury.

@Red Thunder @Rissa

CloudyBlueDay · May 30, 2016

Charlie inhaled as Solana wrapped her arm around his shoulders to support him. Most of his energy was spent focusing on trying to keep a straight face with all the pain his was enduring. Because he could feel everyone's eyes on him, pitying him, and he didn't want to give them anymore reason to keep on looking at him like that. Charlie had never been pitied in his life; not once. It made him feel stupid and it made him feel small, but he had other things to focus on. Like how much it hurt just to take one step, even with Solana supporting him. Wynleth had also offered her assistance, and he felt nothing but shame for having to occupy them with helping him to walk when they could be preparing to fight whoever had cast the Shade on him.

Why had someone done this to him? He knew that their ultimate goal was to get to the Seed of Life, but why'd they pick.. him? Was he.. the weakest? The easiest to prey on? If that was true, then he was only burdening this group. "Your courage is commendable," Hal had said with a friendly smile a pat on the shoulder like he'd done a good thing. Charlie tried to smile back; he did, really. But it didn't come out quite right and it was lopsided and filled with hurt. Courageous.. was something he didn't feel like right now. Charlie gnashed his teeth together, taking in a deep breath, pushing down the pain. The only time he'd felt pain anywhere near this was the time he'd fallen off the ladder fixing the roof and broken his leg. But even then, it only stung for a little while. After that, it had just ached.

He glanced at Solana, meaning to thank her, but when his eyes on her features, it only took a split second for his vision to morph. He only saw her pale, lifeless, cold eyes, and her limp body at the base of the corrupted World Tree. He didn't scream; he felt too tired and weak to scream. But his breathing quickened and he pulled away from Solana, fear taking hold of him as he stumbled into Wynleth who had been beside him. Charlie whipped around once he brushed Wynleth, and upon seeing her, his state only worsened because he didn't quite see Wyn, just her dead body, too. He opened his mouth to speak but couldn't find any words, he was just so panicked. Pain hit him square in the chest from squirming around so much, causing him to take a sudden breath, and the nightmare faded away.

"I'm... s-sorry," Charlie whispered so only Wynleth and Solana could hear. He prayed no one else had noticed his moment of panic. "I.. thought.. that I saw something." He didn't speak of it anymore after that -- he only hobbled back to a stance where Solana and Wynleth could help him walk,

He was silent the rest of the journey, if anyone asked him of his condition he would assure them he was okay. Charlie put all his effort into standing up straight, pushing down the pain, and ignoring any intrusive thoughts of the visions he'd had while the Shade was inside of him. But no matter how much he'd assured himself and everyone that he was fine, by the time Hal had paused at the top, it was clear that he wasn't doing too good. Charlie was sweating, flesh clammy and pale. The poor boy flinched at the sound of his own name.

"I don't feel very good." He admitted quietly, voice cracking mid-sentence. The optimism he'd held at the beginning of the trip had entirely left him and you could see it in his eyes and the way he seemed to hate to admit that he was in pain.

I N F O: LOCATION

The Northern Mountains

WITH

@Elle Joyner @Dragongal @Effervescent

Dragongal · May 31, 2016

Solana Petyra

Solana had nodded to the orc when she spoke. They may end up at the back of the group, but the healer was ready for that. She also took note of the slight burn on Tza'Hal's forearm. That would have to be treated later, as burns were the easiest type of wound to become infected. But that was for when they were safe... whenever that would be.

Wynleth's help was greatly appreciated to help keep up with the group in a timely manner. Despite any previous issues Solana may have had with Wynleth, she had no issue with her, especially when she was helping Charlie. When charlie had freaked out and struggled away from her, she'd looked at Wynleth in confusion. Had she missed something...? No, that wasn't it at all. The poor lad was just feeling the after-effects of the Shadow. Solana quietly murmured, "No, it's okay, I promise. Just focus on moving with our help, okay?" The last thing she wanted was making Charlie feel like a fool. It wasn't his fault at all. It was the fault of those who had hunted them.

Finally at the top, Solana looked into the Mouth of the Mountain for a few seconds. It was beautiful, in a way. The snow and ice glittered and the stark grey stone stuck out. When Hal asked how they were doing and Charlie quietly responded, Solana looked up to their leader with a meaningful glance. The boy wasn't doing very well, but in the worst case, they could carry him. The first rule of anything medical was to get oneself and the patient to safety. But they wouldn't be able to move very quickly, not while Charlie was in such a state.

RZA · Jun 2, 2016

Inara Belanor

Four. Not one. Four Tainted. The carnivorous beasts trampled their way into the road, maiming everything in their path. Blood rained from their victims, and the snarls and growls and clacking of fangs spurred her into action. Inara searched for Tryten through the blood, limbs and guts, but she didn’t see him in the mangled flesh. His ruse worked, her mare had fled backwards and she was now more than thirty feet away. She knocked an arrow and let it fly, praying that her companions, wherever they were, stayed clear.

Her mare shifted uneasily beneath her, and when she let another arrow fly, it missed it’s mark by more than a foot. She knocked another arrow, aiming at the back of a Tainted’s neck. This time she hit her mark, but the beast barely staggered. It mistook her arrow for a sword and leapt from the throat of one of the roadblock men and onto another. Her luck didn’t last long though, a Tainted trained its eyes on her and charged.

Horse and rider froze, momentarily shocked by the fury in its eyes and the stench of Shadow Magic. She tasted fear like never before; all sweet and acidic in her dry mouth. Knocking a third arrow, Inara aimed for the eye socket and hit the beast in it’s shoulder. She cursed, knowing she had little time as the Tainted covered the distance between them in vicious, snarling gallops. Training kicked in, grabbing hold of muscles and mind. Fear made her instincts speak, her mind piercingly clear, and her vision sharp. Inara didn’t have time to doubt whether her plan would work, she just needed to act.

Inara called and magic roared within her. She had a plan, purely daft, but it was the first thing that came to her. If she could raise a chunk of the earth and hit the bottom of its muzzle, it could daze him long enough for Inara to get a good shot. It was a risky wager, but the plan was all she had and she was running out of time. So she waited, embracing the earth with her magic. Inara held onto the magic, picked out a small patch of grass right in the middle of the dirt road, and waited for the beast.

She tried not to think about what happens if this didn’t work, focusing on the task at hand and the thunder of magic she held within her. When the beast was within two strides of her patch of grass, she stretched her arms out straight, bow still in hand. One stride away and she took a deep breath as the beast growled. It was primal and bone chilling. Mid-stride Inara raised her arms sharply, jerking them a moment too late.

The plan worked, but it didn’t. Instead of a small tower of earth raising to meet the beast's muzzle, a short vertical slab of earth burped out of the ground. It caught the forepaws, sending the beast toppling muzzle first into the road. The Tainted didn’t stay down for long.

In the precious moments it took the beast to trip over itself and then regain footing, Inara raised her bow and got ready for a shot. She waited for it to charge again, her breathing instinctively slowing, arms steadying. Even the mare froze beneath her, though probably out of fear. Inara took a deep breath, aimed at the beast’s right eye socket, and let the arrow fly free with her exhale.

Elle Joyner · Jun 3, 2016

It wasn't easy going. It rarely was when one was essentially the left leg of another, but where Wyn failed in many aspects of her life, she was nothing, if not determined. In rhythm both to Charlie's pace and Solana's on the other side of Charlie, she followed Hal's path with what felt like a reasonable sense of paranoid concentration. The others... she could see in their faces a focused drive, but still she wondered if all of them understood the threat. She herself barely understood it and she had seen first hand exactly what the Shadow could do. Maybe she hadn't proven herself a seasoned warrior, filled with all manner strength and hubris... and she wasn't a cold individual, unfeeling and strange - She wasn't brave... but she had courage, and she wasn't wise, but she had knowledge. She had learned not all that long ago that fear could be an ally, as much as an enemy... that it could keep you attuned to your surroundings and keep you alive. She had experiences that some would never have and that could be seen as a benefit... if they were willing to see it that way.

The trek was long and arduous, and would have been, even without the weight of Charlie on her shoulder, but she had been carried, figuratively, more than enough to understand the necessity. There was no complaint, no grumbling and when Charlie stumbled there was no exasperation on her part, and thankfully, Solana seemed to understand the need for grace as well. It was the expression on his face, however, that gave her pause and as she helped him upright, she shook her head, brushing aside his apology with a soft frown. As they started off again, she glanced over to him and with a small sigh, spoke low enough that only he might hear, "I won't tell you it's not real... whatever you saw. Because I know how real it feels. I see it, still... every time I close my eyes. And no amount of reason makes it any less terrifying. Just know you're not alone. It's something you'll need to tell yourself... every moment, of every day... until those visions fade."

Falling silent, she resumed her pace and eventually, they arrived at the Mouth of the Mountain. Cold and barren, the frigid landscape left nothing appealing to the eye. The mountain, stuck up against the powder grey sky, a gaping maw with jagged fangs, bearing down upon them an bone chilling breath, that bit through her cloak like tiny, sharp teeth. Hal pointed out the head of a tree, poking out from a cavernous opening, branches slick with a sheen of ice. It didn't look simply dangerous... it looked deadly, and she was almost certain that she was going to have difficulties... nevermind Charlie, who shortlytofore could hardly stand upright on his own.

Looking around, she frowned, softly, "Have we any rope in our supplies? Perhaps we could winch it to the stronger branches and lower down those of us who aren't equipped for climbing? It won't take much longer, as we'd need to climb down one at a time, anyhow... right?"

@Effervescent, @CloudyBlueDay

Red Thunder · Jun 5, 2016

Trynten Lothorsen

The woodsman ducked the vagrant's blade, and it whistled above his head. Every instinct raged within him to flee the oncoming destruction, even if this fool would not heed his words. Trynten just needed to get-

His ear pricked, and he turned his head. The mare had retreated, but hadn't fled. And now a Tainted bore down on Inara, bloodlust in its eyes. Not that he could aid; the damned brigand leader still rained blows down upon him, and Tryn's shift of focus almost cost him his head. As it was, his sword was knocked from his hands as it was lifted defensively, and his enemy cackled menacingly. From atop the horse, the brigand brought the sword down, and Trynten threw his arms up.

Steel tore through cloth and leather and bit flesh. The blow had been deflected, sending the blade falling to Tryn's left side, but the move had cost him. His left arm now bled profusely, the skin and muscle that kept the red life within his forearm now missing. Fury filled the woodsman, and heedless of his wound he sprang up mightily, tackling the brigand about his waist and bringing him to the ground on the far side of his mount. Despite the rage, Tryn kept his eyes averted, throwing elbows, knees, and fists into the man's middle.

"If I die," he growled, "you're coming with me, you bastard!"

@Rissa @Effervescent @StoneWolf18

Effervescent · Jun 10, 2016

The Northern Mountains

It certainly did not feel like Spring up at the top of the Mouth of the Mountain. The jagged maw reached up in the blue sky now dusted with white clouds. Hal looked around at the surrounding range, their peaks ever higher like menacing guardians watching the group plan their descent. Due to not knowing this path he would take, nor having known he would be met with so many travelers, he had not brought anyclimbing gear with him. A hand moved contemplatively over his chapped lips as he mulled over the predicament of helping Charlie down into the cave. The tree that jutted from the cavern carried thick branches, butthe tree had been dead for some time. Glancing around at the rest of the group, it was clear no one had any rope. But there was no way they could just let the boy sit atop a snowy mountain in wait.

“We will have to be cautious,” Hal said. “I'll head down first. Charlie, you come right behind me. I want you nearly stepping on my fingers. The rest of you follow suit and be mindful of what branches are used. Keep your body as close to the trunk as possible. Your weight will be better carried where the branches are thickest. I will test the branches to insure we all make it down safely. Don't put your full weight on anything until you are certain it can hold you.”

The climb down the dead tree was tense and slow. It took a considerable amount of time to insure each branch chosen would not break at the slightest change in weight. But the further they traveled downward, the warmer it became. It was dark save for the sun that barely trickled through the opening far above once Hal’s feet found the rocky ground below. His boots crunched against the dirt and stone as he hopped down off the lowest branch.

In what little he could see, Hal quickly gathered brush and small sticks to begin a fire a few feet away from the base of the tree. Thick roots jutted up from the craigy earth. Anyone not paying attention would likely trip over them where they protruded like stagnant snakes suspended in twisted animation. Hal kindled the small fire until it grew to a comfortable and modest orange blaze to illuminate the cavern’s spaces.

It was nearly just as he left it all those years ago, yet not as green. The tree’s massive form carried winding branches that wove like a kaleidoscope of dull colors against the glow of the fire. It wasn't an evergreen or like any tree native to Baladur, yet it had grown to such a great height and thrived. The earth below him was gritty and no longer carried the softness of grass and moss. The dirt still held moisture from the snow that would fall and melt into rain on more bleary days. There was a faint dripping of water into a pool somewhere out in the darkness behind him. He remembered it being safe to drink, yet with a strange mineral taste to it.

Hal rose from the fire and looked up at the tree to insure everyone was making it down safely. “We can make camp here for the night,” he called out. “There's fresh water, and we have our rations. This is about as much light as we are going to get without setting this whole cave ablaze. Whose ready to look for that mystical seed?”

@Elle Joyner @Space Cowboy Ein @Doctor Jax @Dragongal @CloudyBlueDay @JDParadox @BookWyrm

On the Road to Lauderdine

Red stained the dirt where the Tainted devoured their prey. The bandits had fled the scene as soon as they witnessed their comrades torn to pieces in a matter of seconds. The few that remained tried to bring the beasts down with their weapons quickly finding they were quickly useless without prethought. They would not stick around to see as to whether or not their targets for thievery or their own leader would make it out of the massacre alive.

Inara's quick thinking allowed her a bit of time to set up her shot. The Tainted that targeted her found itself in a daze due to her Earth Magic. While these beasts had shown to be intelligent, they were prone to tunnel vision when fixated on a particular prey. It could only think of one thing: getting back to killing Inara. It had her scent, and it longed for a taste as it shook away the daze. But just as it readied itself to advance once again, it was surely halted. Inara's arrow jutted from where its eye once rested, blood oozing from the socket as it quickly fell in a lifeless heap just before her mare. It seemed as though this time her aim rang true.

Trynten was locked in his own battle with the ring leader of the fleeing miscreants. The man shifted the weight of the two eventually turning Trynten about to find himself on his back instead. Punches flew towards the Thallas a crazed grin etched along his lips.

"I won't die today!" the man stated through gritted teeth, each syllable marked by a swing of his fist. "I'll show you-"

Before he could even complete his sentence, his words contorted into screams of agony that turned quickly into wet gurgles. A Tainted had set its sights on the man in all his flailing and switched interests from the expended body to fresher meat. It was an opening for the pair to utilize as the remaining Tainted appeared to be occupied. It was clear that any boisterous or loud gestures would garner unwanted attention from the beasts, and so, if they wished to make it out alive, they would need to insure their departure went unnoticed. Trynten's horse had long since fled into the woods for safety leaving Inara with the only motive of quick transportation.

@Red Thunder @Rissa

CloudyBlueDay · Jun 13, 2016

TZA'HAL AGRAF AND CHARLIE REDDEMAN

a collaboration between @Doctor Jax and @CloudyBlueDay, graciously placed in a spoiler because it's TOO DAMN LONG.

Charlie was incredibly grateful that Solana and Wynleth were so understanding. Their words made him feel a little bit better, but all in all, he was just happy he wasn't being labeled as crazy just yet. He wasn't crazy, right? It was just the after effects of the shadow. Wynleth seemed to understand the best; he hated to think whatever she had been through was worse.

Hal was quick to find another way down the mouth of the mountain, and Charlie nodded to show his understanding. He felt tired and achy and quite honestly wasn't sure how he was going to make it down the tree, but was fueled by the thought that he could finally rest without guilt once they got down. How hard could it be? Charlie, admittedly, hadn't climbed a lot of trees during his childhood, for fear of burning them, but all he had to do was nearly step on Hal's fingers. Just like he'd said.

Halfway down, Charlie had mumbled something very quietly, sounding like, "I thought I liked heights."

He lost his footing at the last branch, dangling for just a split second, one terrifying moment. And when he finally touched the ground, Charlie slumped against the side of the tree, out of the way of others coming down, clutching his chest and breathing heavily, eyes closed as he tried to regain his breath.

When he opened them, the first thing he saw was a chunk of granite off to the side. It didn't look exactly natural, and if he squinted, he saw a few letters hidden beneath the mess of vines. He inched towards the granite and brushed away the leaves. It read,

"HERE LIES THE BRAVE DRAGON WARDEN HALE. BELOVED FRIEND AND TRUE KEEPER OF THE PEACE."

Charlie read the sentence more the once, letting the words sink in. He felt no fear, not towards this, anyhow. Maybe perhaps the images in his head that he couldn't push down, but this gave him comfort. And perhaps a bit of remorse.

"Hey, Hale." Charlie mumbled. "I hope you don't mind me disturbing your slumber or something like that."Charlie rubbed his eyes, swallowing, reading the plaque one more time. "I bet you were a good guy. You sound like a good guy. I hope dying wasn't too painful for you." Charlie leaned back against the tree. "I kind of wish you died of old age with your wife and seventeen grandchildren, but since your tombstone is in the mouth of a mountain I guess that didn't happen."

"Or you know, maybe you did die with your wife and seventeen grandchildren. Maybe this was your favorite spot. You and.. your dragon's and children's and wife's favorite spot. I wouldn't blame you. I bet it was beautiful here once. Kinda hard to get here though. With seventeen grandchildren."

He closed his eyes, trying to paint a picture of this person he'd never met, but felt so sorry for.

"It's okay. I'm rambling. You should go back to sleep. I'm probably not going to sleep for a little while, because I'm not keen on the nightmares I'll have, but you, you're set." Charlie leaned back against the tree, eyes still closed. "Enjoy that, Hale. And you know, maybe I'll meet your dragon sometime. That'd be be neat."

As they neared closer to the mouth of the cave, Tza'Hal slowly grew colder and colder. She wished, now, that she had had the foresight (and the weakness, perhaps) to bring along those warmer clothes. However, it was something of a talent of the Order to resist the pains and ills of the world, to transcend flesh and master the--

A chunk of snow fell down the front of her tunic, and she swatted at it as her skin puckered with goose prickles. Well, bollocks, she was going to ask for a blanket the minute they were up there. Hopefully the cave was warmer than the surrounding area...

Nevertheless, she kept an eye on the surrounding forests as it slowly grew darker and darker. Oddly, the Shadowcasters were at a joint advantage and disadvantage. There was plenty more shadow to work with, certainly, but their own shadows grew weak as the sun began to set. Those who wielded the dark would have to come out on the defensive. A part of Tza'Hal hoped that they would, but the more noble, saintly part (if you will) chastised her base desire to stick her walking staff through the eyehole of some magic user. The cave finally came into view, and she sighed. Of course, it would be hard going, getting down via the tree, but that was alright. It would give her a reason to get her mind off the monotony of the forest around.

She kept an eye out, taking care to be the last one down the tree. She would not have them attacked from behind, especially if one of the magic users were to be the target. Their abilities, while a crutch, were indeed potent, she would give them that -- and if she were possessed, they'd have an easier time taking down the elder orc than one of their younger compatriots. She clambered down the tree as the last of their group descended, careful of the last branch, which seemed a bit weaker than the rest.

She surveyed the cave they were in, and she frowned. It was slightly warmer here, though not by too much. The walls were of storied stone, and the ground was littered with the detritus of the forest, as well as a slight smattering of snow. Her eyes were, of course, drawn to the monument of sheer granite erected toward one side of the cave, and she approached it, her eyes drawn to the name.

She had read tales of this Hale. While she did not remember them in great detail, the accounts given of him had been... favorable, an odd thing for an orc to consider. Years working with the Lynx had changed some of her former proclivities and thoughts, realizing that history was a muddy, dark thing that rarely gave straightforward answers, no matter how people wanted to cut it. As she neared, she saw Charlie at the base of the monument, and she caught the tail end of his talk with the long dead Dragon Warden. Surely his mind has not cracked, Tza'hal thought with a surprising touch of concern.

However, his final words drew a rather amused cough of a laugh.

"You will find that a more daunting prospect than you think." Tza'hal stood behind him, eyeing the monument."There was a reason dragons were considered some of the fiercest creatures to walk the realm. Though I imagine Hale's mount would have been many times a kinder beast."

With that, she paused, unsure of how to proceed.

"You worry of nightmares."

Charlie jumped at the sound of Tza'Hal's laugh. He hadn't noticed her approaching and had been too caught up in his own thoughts, but the smallest of smiles arose on his face as she started to speak. "But that's the whole point, isn't it? The scarier they are, the more... the more dragon like, I suppose." Charlie paused. "But I wouldn't mind meeting a kind dragon either."

However, the smile faded away with Tza'Hal's next topic. He cast his gaze to the ground and shifted uncomfortable, letting out the tiniest noise of pain as he moved. "..Wouldn't you?" He replied, giving a small shrug. He glanced up at Tza'Hal, desperately trying to eradicate the image of her limp body from his mind but looking at the living.

"Your arm," He exclaimed, perking up but then wincing. Realization dawned on him; the only way she could've received such a fresh burn was from him. In his panic and in his stupor, he'd burned the very person trying to help him.

"I'm -- I'm so sorry, I didn't mean too.. did Solana look at it yet? I have bandages, if she doesn't, and.."He trailed off, furrowing his brow. "Of course she has bandages, she's a healer." He muttered. "I hope it's.. that it's not too bad a burn."

Tza'Hal nodded sagely. Indeed, the bigger the dragon, the more impressive it is, the deeper its image burns in the mind. She had only read of the dragons, had heard of the Dragon Wardens and their terrible mounts. While she had no deep love for the Wardens -- oftentimes, she came across warrants for their arrest and decapitation -- she couldadmit her fascination with the great beasts. As a young girl, she'd guiltily enjoyed fantasies of perhaps finding a dragon and ... well, that had been a long time ago, almost thirty, forty years past. Such ideas were foolish.

The young half-elf replied to her question, and she was struck. Nightmares had never bothered her. Perhaps she had too long been exposed to the vagaries of brutal death, and such ghosts could find no substance in which to perch. But the nightmares that she did occasionally have... Yes, perhaps the kid had a point.

Suddenly, he got up to his feet, and Tza'Hal frowned. He was much too weak to be running about! And never mind about the arm!

"Pah, you call that a burn? I've had worse cooking bacon. Sit before you pull something," Tza'Hal quickly ordered, using a tone of voice she'd thought she'd left behind a long time ago. She used her walking stick to tap his shoulder bluntly, motioning for him to do as she said. "Be worried about yourself. You took the brunt of the attack today. No easy feat to bounce back from that."

Indeed, she'd only heard stories from other companies about their men saved from the Shadow's influence. Those were the lucky troops who'd had Maldviri in their midst, who were versed in the ways of Inner Light. And, of course, there was that which she'd read in the archives from years long past from storied doctors of the mind, men of great pompousness and self-indulgent wit who, nevertheless, had hit the nail spot on the head...

"Given your speech to Hale, it's not mere body that suffers," Tza'Hal said, taking a seat. "Tell me, what did the Shadow lie to you about?"

She could practically see the self-doubt that came off the boy. He was a stripling, hardly old enough to hold a sword or leave home. It was a wonder he'd made it this far. She would have to watch him. While the young were prized for their ingenuity and energy, they were as likely to bork everything by rushing in or hiding their faults.

Charlie's worried and guilty expression turned into a small laugh as Tza'Hal brushed away his concern, poking him with her walking stick like a ruffled grandmother. "Pull something?" He protested. "I'm nineteen. I'm not going to be pulling anything." He did, however, sit back down upon her request, letting out a small sigh. "I took the onlyattack. Made specifically against me." His smile kept surfacing and then drowning, again and again.

"Given your speech to Hale, it's not mere body that suffers," Charlie paled as she moved to sit down, because if she sat down, that meant serious talks about things he was trying to forget. "No, no. Actually, it's really just my body that's suffering. Only that. My chest really hurts, and I really think you should--" Too late, the orc had settled herself beside him and he stopped talking because he knew there was no use.

"I don't -- I don't really.. really want too.." He was desperately trying to come up with ways to get himself out of talking about it, but judging from the way Tza'Hal had so sternly spoken to him about caring for his own well-being, he figured this was included in the healing package. Charlie pushed a hand through his hair, taking off the wool cap in the process.

"Was it lying?" He asked, voice cracking midway. "I saw things that I know. It took places that I have.. that I have only good memories of, and it ruined them. And now I have to see the girl with no eyes when I think of home, and the fire, too. And when I think of.. of the world tree, and all of us, and.."

Charlie stopped. Tears had welled in his eyes but he swallowed and pushed them down. He looked moments away from making a poor excuse and running, but something held him in place. Perhaps despite all the fear that was gripping him, he was desperate to speak about it to someone. Or just too caught up in the memories to make his escape.

Tza'Hal was more than aware that Charlie didn't want to talk. No one ever did, not about the things that went on in the mind. Well, that was too bad for him, because Tza'Hal was going to find out, one way or the other. She had never realized how good it was to unload the things that had burdened her as a major until she'd done it during her second initiation phase in the Order, an exercise meant to lighten the mind and, perhaps, the soul.

She sat patiently, quietly, as he stammered through an excuse before finally asking, "Was it lying?"

Her face turned somber as she listened to him talk of how his memories of home had been corrupted by the things he had seen while taken by the Shade, of his recollections of both hearth and house tainted. Then, of course, there was this talk of seeing the World Tree and the rest of the party. He trailed off, seeming to be overcome, but Tza'Hal was patient -- or at least, in a patient mood. Yet, she would not let him wallow for long.

"The Shadow... perverts. It twists what is good, taints it. Whatever you saw, it was a lie. It wishes to discourage, to grind you to a halt, and cripple you."

She paused.

"It attacked you, because you are the most pressing problem for them. I'd know -- I did the same. You do not attack an enemy's weakest members. You strike what is most troubling. A ballista is a fragile weapon, an easy target but a wasted effort. Attack the engineer. They are the one who drives the group, but is more heavily defended. But, you rid yourself of them, you destroy the unit. That is not to say you are some mastermind -- keep your head about yourself, you're a stripling half-elf boy -- but you obviously trouble those Shadowcasters. Don't give me those sad looks -- speak up. You're here for a reason. Even a broken spear can strike and guard."

Goodness -- that was perhaps the most she'd said in a long time. She had spent the largest part of her time keeping her mouth shut around these people. Still, she wasn't about to have this kid moping everywhere and moaning his head off. And good battle tactics had its place in any situation. Take on the most troubling issue -- the weaklings were distractions meant to slow you down.

"Be quick about it, what else did you see? The sooner you get it out, the better."

Throughout Tza'Hal's speech Charlie seemed to be more shocked then anything. Any possibility other than the fact that he and only he was the weakest link had simply not crossed his mind. And the thought of being considered one of the strongest (the most troubling, actually, but for Charlie that was beside the point), not the weakest, gave him an odd sense of confidence.

He pondered over this. He was the only one with fire magic, right? Maybe that gave him a leg up. He was one of the youngest -- that meant he was faster or stronger or both. Both! Both? Charlie bit his nail, wondering if she was telling him the truth or spitting lies just to make him feel better. He glanced at the orc. She didn't look to be lying.

"Be quick about it, what else did you see? The sooner you get it out, the better." Charlie swallowed. The sooner he said it the better, right? He'd be able to forget about it if he got it off of his chest. That was all he wanted to do. If he could completely eradicate anything from his mind, that would be it.

"I saw you," He started. "Not just you, but.. everyone. At the the world tree." Charlie closed his eyes, took a deep breath. "You were.. dead." Charlie held his breath, allowing it to settle in, for him too.

"Everyone was dead. There was.. blood, everywhere. And your eyes were all open and cold and.. and the world tree was dead, too. Corrupted. Twisted. And I think it was.. my fault? Because I wasn't dead, I was the only one who.. so it.. it had to be.."

He put a hand over his mouth. "But the shadow was just lying, right? Just like you said. We're going to.. we're going to find the seed and save the tree. And none of us are going to die. The shadow was just lying." He fumbled with his hands, taking breaths to calm himself down. "Can we stop talking about this now?"He whispered.

Tza'Hal put her hands together and set them against her lips, in a sort of praying pose as she closed her eyes and listened. It tumbled out of him like an overflowing dam, all of the things that the Shadow had filled his mind with. She scrunched her nose as she thought on this. All of them -- dead before a corrupted World Tree. It seemed like the Shadow had pulled out all of his worst fears while spitting on his fondest memories. When she was young, she had taken mental warfare for granted. She had considered such mind games to be unfruitful, a waste of time. However, as she grew older and saw the toll that fear could take on a group, she soon came to appreciate and understand it.

Likewise, she had come to an understanding that if she did not master fear, she could not control it. This stripling would have no such personal edicts, and he was easy prey. Perhaps that was also why he'd been targeted -- a strong body, with youthful energy, but a green mind with few barriers.

"Hm," Tza'Hal only murmured as he asked whether the shadow was merely lying. No, she did not believe that was a forecast of the future -- after all, could the future truly be seen? besides those blasted shae, they didn't count! -- but that was not to say that failure was not in their cards, either. However, she saw it fit to leave this ambiguous. She would not fill the boy's head with hopes she could not promise to fulfill. Such would be disingenuous.

"I believe that is enough for now. Go see the Maldviri -- that chest of yours needs looked at, and she knows best the aftereffects of an excision," Tza'Hal ordered, pulling her legs into the peony position -- soles together, back straight -- and closing her eyes. It had been a long day. She needed to meditate the stresses of the evening away.

When he'd pleaded for it to be over, no part of him expected she'd allow it to be so. Charlie only blinked when she gave her next order, processing the fact that he was actually done with remembering such awful memories and that their talk had ended so abruptly. She left no time for afterthought with her quick transition into a meditating position, and Charlie stared at her momentarily before slowly standing up. He couldn't help but find the whole interaction peculiar; he had poured his deepest fears and thoughts out to her, and she seemed to have merely brushed them off after delivering a rather invigorating speech. Charlie couldn't quite tell how he felt about that just yet. Maybe later it would bother him.

She had not given him confirmation either; about whether the shadow had been lying to him or not. That was certainly a part that left him uneasy at best, but he already felt rather nauseous so it could've just been that.

Could there have possibly been a more understanding and compassionate person to talk too? Most certainly. Was that what he had needed most? Perhaps not. The half-elf boy felt oddly satisfied with the progress made, and the connection established with the elder orc. She reminded him a lot of Elder Lannya, and he'd found comfort in that. Her eyes were already closed, so he made his final words short. "Thank you," He said, before moving away.

Elle Joyner · Jun 13, 2016

Down, down they climbed, the tree of ice more obstacle than opportunity - slick and unsteady with every step. When Wyn reached the floor of the cavern, she took in a breath and bending at the weight willed her pounding heart to steady. She had volunteered. She had volunteered to avenge her father, her brother... and now Arun and the others. She had volunteered because there was nothing in the world more important than stopping the Shadow's invasion and preventing more suffering on a much larger scale. But there were moments, certainly, when the warm glow of Everfire and her mother, brushing at her hair and fussing over the dirt beneath her nails seemed a good sight more appealing than a cold cave in the beastly north.

But she had come for a reason, and she would never forget the importance of her cause. Straightening, she swiped at her eyes, drying tears and banishing memories and with a quick glance around to ensure they were all either down or making their way down into their safe haven, she pushed off to start a small reconnaissance of the area. There were few things that Wyn did well, but she had always been quite decent at hunting, tracking and gathering around the village. The freshly fallen snow on the mountain wasn't an issue in the warmer depths of the cavern but the hardened ground made tracks impossible to find. There were other signs,however, other things to look for... to determine if they were truly alone or not.

With some satisfaction and immense relief, she determined they hadn't followed anyone down into the Mouth, not for some time, at least. The sack she'd come across was old... the thick leather of it frayed and worn, torn in places where small creatures had picked at it in an attempt to use the warm interior for a home. There was nothing living in it at the moment, but a few handy items - a burn salve and bandages, gold coins and some stale, but otherwise edible jerky. Most interesting, however, was the journal - hand scrawled on every torn, yellowing page. The Fall of Haven, an account by someone called Wuld. Tucked into the journal was a note that read only Remember our agreement. She also found what looked to be an enormous tooth and a crystal with a faint glow about it.

Tugging the straps of the bag closed and swinging it over her shoulder, Wyn retraced her steps carefully, returning to the small crowd. She found Hal and dropped the bag gently by his feet, "Found this deeper in... There's some useful items inside. No rope, unfortunately. Far as I can tell, though, we're alone down here. It should be safe for the night, but we should probably establish some sort of watch. Two at a time, save for Charlie... He'll need the night to rest and recover. Oh..." Crouching down, she reached into the bag and pulled out the jerky with a small, dry smile, "It's not too bad, for having been here a good while. We can save some rations, anyway."

@Effervescent

BookWyrm · Jun 14, 2016

Vane Braegland.

For all it was worth, all of the trouble among the group, though it seemed to be focused on Charlie mostly, and all of the wandering around damned frozen mountains, Vane was smiling. Several days worth of stubble had grown out to the point of itching, and in between clambering over branches Vane found himself scratching at his cheeks and chin. Thank the gods for solid ground. He sighed as he laid his gear near the fire and grabbing empty canteens. "I'm going to refill these."

There was some respite in the cool water lapping over the lip of his canteen. No, it wasn't the water, even though he drained a full canteen and dunked it under again to fill it anew. It wasn't the water either, despite it's crisp, refreshing taste of minerals from some far flung glacier. Perhaps it was simply the alone time. Even though the group was just a matter of paces away the being away for just a few minutes was pleasant. Vane, only you would be so content to be traveling and yet long for alone time. Yet time alone gave time for reflection, time for growth and lessons to be learned. Off in the distance Vane could hear Charlie rambling on about something he found in the stone. "As long as the shade hasn't taken his ability to fight and think coherently I guess a little rambling can be tolerated."

In the end Vane came back to the fire a little wetter, a little colder, but still smiling. This is why I became a ranger. Adventure.

Space Cowboy Ein · Jun 15, 2016

Azzara Omari + Charlie Reddeman

((Spoilers because this is also long.))

The remainder of the trip to the mountain had Azzara on edge at all moments. Every nook and cranny potentially held a trap for them. Every shadow had her on edge. Even if she could sense shadow magic, it made her nonetheless fearful of their adversaries. But before long, they had reached the Mouth of the Mountain. And by then Azzara was far too cold to truly keep an eye out. She could check out the cavern once she was warm.

Thankfully it would not take long for the party to descend the tree. And being the last one down, she was grateful that a fire was already being started. The cavern was large but as far as she could tell there were in fact no signs of shadow activity here either. Comforted by the knowledge of their security, Azzara could finally relax. And when she did, fatigue followed shortly after. Pulling the shade from Charlie was no small task, and she wanted nothing more than to sleep.

"If it wouldn't bother anyone, I think I could use a rest. As far as I can tell, there's no trace of shadow magic here. Not in a very long time at least." With that she took a seat by the trunk of the try and shut her eyes. Sleep would come quick, and the better she was rested, the more she could be ready for anyone that tried to ambush them in such an enclosed location.

After his conversation with Tza'Hal, Charlie considered just finding someplace to sit alone. Sleep? No, Charlie had no intentions of sleeping, not now, not in the near feature, and if he could help it, not ever again, but of course, that wasn't going to work out for him very well. That obviously didn't matter to him though.

To clear his head, he resolved to perhaps do some whittling. He was halfway through a knight chess piece and he knew it would clear his mind, but the orders from Tza'Hal to go see Azzara sill rang clear in his head. He probably wasn't going to get peace with her voice ringing so clearly in his mind. Or with the pain in his chest. (No, no heartbreaks yet.)

"Azzara?" He called, before actually looking at where she resided. By the time he'd made his way over, the Maldrivi had just settled herself down and closed her eyes. Charlie immediately took a step back, shutting his mouth, but it was clearly too late. He made no other noise as he tried to step away, hoping she hadn't heard his disturbance to her nap.

Unfortunately, it seemed that sleep was going to have to take a backseat. Her eyes shot open at the sound of her name in a questioning tone. Her gaze set on Charlie, who was already stepping back in fear of disturbing her slumber. A discontent sigh escaped her lips as she adjusted herself against the tree. There wasn't much that could be done about it now. It was likely he wanted to know more about what exactly it was she did to him.

"Charlie...come have a seat." She scooted over the side and patted the ground beside her for the young man to occupy. A tired smile grew on her face as the warmth from the campfire continued to tug at her basic need for rest. "How're you holding up?"

Charlie's postured drooped at the sigh that escaped her lips; he felt terrible for disturbing her, as surely she deserved some rest after the amazing feat she had performed. However, despite how tired the Maldrivi seemed, Azzara scooted aside and patted the ground for him to sit by her. He hesitated; another heart-to-heart talk, already? He really wasn't ready for that, but if he'd already disturbed her, there was no getting out of it now.

So, he sat down beside her, wincing at her very clearly exhausted smile. "I'm so sorry to bother you," He began. "I didn't see you were trying to rest, I'd called your name before I.." He sighed, scratching his chin. "You know. Saw you were trying to sleep."

"I'm alright. In terms of holding up." He wasn't lying, but he wasn't telling the truth, either. In all honesty, Charlie could not quite settle on how he was feeling. He knew he didn't feel quite right; not cheerful or optimistic like he had been at the start of the day, but he did feel better since the incident. "I spoke with Tza'Hal, about the things I saw while.. unconscious. I think it helped a little."

"But my chest still kind of hurts, and she wanted me to talk to you." He admitted. "And I suppose I am a little bit curious to know more about what happened to me then."

Azzara listened in on what Charlie had to say, intent on taking it all in with what attention she could muster. Charlie was young, probably just getting out of his teens. And boy was he a handsome one. Had she ever come across him as he was while she was still travelling, well that would be a story for another time. The thought added more warmth to her smile as he spoke, probably a bit more than was appropriate.

"Mm. Well it's relatively simple, what happened to you. At least once you've studied how the shadow casters work." She responded, shifting a bit more against he base of the tree. "You had a shade attached to you. When it happened, I'm not sure. But essentially it was meant to drive you into madness when you saw it. I don't need to know what all you saw or heard, I've got a pretty good idea." Her smiled turned to a smirk as she finished. "You've gone through the worst of it already. And what you saw was all lies anyway."

Her smirk dropped some as she looked on to the flames ahead of them. "In all truth, your chest will likely hurt for some time. I had to harm you greatly to pull that shade from you. The only way to expose it is to hit you with a stream of my Inner Light. If I had done it wrong, or if you weren't strong enough, you would have died." Her eyes shifted over the varying members of the group and settled on Tza'Hal who seemed to be meditating. She was an interesting one for sure. Azzara had never met an Orc that wasn't operating some for of machinery. "I'm sorry about the pain I've inflicted upon you. And there is not much I can do to help heal it or lessen the pain either. I can just hope..that you understand how and why it will be that way."

Charlie listened intently to Azzara as she explained his previous predicament. Yes, he had studied some aspects of the shadow, but truly not enough. Perhaps at Syth, he would have had the chance to learn more. Syth. That was where he would be right now, if not for the letter. He wouldn't have been attacked by a shade and he certainly wouldn't be enduring all of this; but all the while, he would be standing by as the World Tree fell and those who tried to save it perished. While he envied the life he could've been living right now if the Shadow had not risen, he dared not dream of trading or changing it. This was his destiny, right?

She smiled too much for his liking and understanding, and she'd brushed off the things he'd seen as nothing more then a few twisted visions. Was that what he should be doing? Had Azzara done this so many times that she had simply become numb to the aftereffects the survivors felt? Charlie gazed at her curiously, trying to understand why her lips were turned up in a smirk. How he wished to be as numb as she seemed to be. How was it fair that this small piece of shadow got to tear him up so easily?

Once she had finished speaking, Charlie kept silent for a few more moments, soaking up all she had said. "Please, don't apologize." He finally mumbled, keeping his gaze on the earth below them. "Whatever lingering pain I have isn't your fault. It's the Shadow casters who did this to me. You saved my life, and I haven't even thanked you for it yet." He tore his gaze from the ground and offered her a smile. "Really.. Thank you."Charlie only now came to realize that'd he'd had a real and true brush with death. Before him was the very person that had pulled him from it, and he hoped to someday be able to repay her.

"Have you.. done this before?" He asked. There were a million other questions he felt like asking but at the same time, had no energy to do so. So he settled on a question that would involve her more than it would he, and git the inside of his cheek, staring at the fire as he awaited her answer.

Azzara looked onto Charlie when he asked her not to apologize, not to blame herself. But the pain was, in part, her fault. She knew the nature of the situation wouldn't affect her Inner Light but it bothered her nonetheless. Still, a genuine thank you managed to soften some of the sullen mood that had overtaken her. "You're welcome. I would've done it again, the alternative is much, much worse." The smile returned, softer this time.

"I've done it once before. Specifically for shades at the least." She looked back towards the fire. "It attached to someone very...close to me. I either wasn't fast enough, or not strong enough, and I watched the life slip from him while trying to save his life. I was young then. Younger than you probably. I wasn't as stable as I am now. I was determined, then, to not let the same thing happen to you."

Charlie gulped at her mention of the alternative. He furiously tried to think of other things, grinding his teeth together as he pushed out all thoughts of what could've been much, much worse out of his head.

Only once? She'd done it only once? Charlie blinked in surprise. He frowned when she mentioned it had been someone close to her, describing how she'd watched the life slip away from them. Younger then him, too. Charlie let out a small sigh. No one close to him had ever died. Maybe his parents were dead, but he'd never even known them.

"Maybe it wasn't that you weren't strong enough." He said. "It was just that they were..too.. weak to.." Charlie closed his mouth. "N-never mind." Halfway through, he realized he was practically insulting whoever had been lost to the shade instead of an attempt to encourage her. He meant it in the way that maybe they'd been injured, or tired, or..

"I-I.. uh.. I'm sorry that happened to you." He mumbled. "Maybe I should leave you to rest now."

Azzara closed her eyes and sighed. She didn't take much offense to his comments, she'd since reconciled with that night. "It's fine. We were taken by surprise. I panicked. But the people that did it...they paid dearly." She crossed her arms and adjusted herself into a more comfortable position. "I'm in dire need of some sleep. And I'd suggest you get some as well. We'll need to be rested when the sun rises. Eyes may still be on us."

It wasn't the best way to end the conversation, but it was the truth. The shade knew were they were going, which meant their enemies would be coming. Maybe they were an hour, a day, a week away, but they were coming. She didn't want to tell Charlie, but she'd seen what the shade had tried to convince him of. It wasn't something she wanted to entertain, that reality was a lie. They would be successful, even if it would more than likely result in some of them paying the ultimate price in the end.

Charlie stiffened. What had Azzara done to those that had killed her loved one? They were Shadow.. they deserved it. But the way she said it, he wondered.. did they perhaps, get more then they deserved? Charlie shifted uncomfortably. "Right. Sleep." He whispered. "I don't.. think that's going to go very well for me." This part he said almost inaudibly. Eyes may still be on us. Great. Another reason not to ever close his eyes again.

Charlie slowly got to his feet, leaning against the tree for support. Because the pain had been deemed incurable for the time being, his next goal was to ignore it as best as he could. Azzara had already settled back into a comfortable position and he wasn't sure what else to say. He didn't want to interrupt her a second time, so Charlie began to move away.

The young half elf took a seat once again closer to the fire; of course, being of the element, he had to enjoy it's company. He took out his whittling knife and his half-finished chess piece and quieted his mind in the shaving of the wood.

RZA · Jun 16, 2016

Inara Belanor and Trynten Lothorsen

A Collaboration between

@Rissa and @Red Thunder

Blood and viscera showered down upon the woodsman, and shock filled his face. The Tainted tore into the bandit leader's corpse with abandon, ignoring or missing for the moment the injured Trynten upon the ground. For his part, the wounded man kicked his legs out against the ground, repeatedly and haphazardly scooting himself backwards across the rough earth. One thought filled his brain as he clutched his arm, the supernatural dark terror of his proximity to the shadow-spawned creature overwhelming anything else.

Run.

Silence. As the arrow soared through the air, Inara couldn't help but hold her breath and wish for the best. A deep, reverberating silence drummed through her head as she waited in-between moments. The arrow dug itself deep into the creature's eye socket, halting it's bloodlust forevermore. Momentary relief flooded through Inara as the Tainted beast fell before her. Her mare took a few steps backward, swinging her head back and forth, a soft neigh escaping her muzzle.

"Sh, shhh." Inara whispered, rubbing her neck affectionately. "We must stay quiet."

She slung her bow back over her shoulders and grabbed the mare's reins, looking for Trynten through the blood and mangled flesh. For one horrifying moment, Inara thought he was gone... He wouldn't have fled, that she knew for sure. But where was he? Scanning through the mutilated bodies Inara's heart skipped a beat, hoping with all her might that all of Tryn's limbs were attached and he was still alive. She nudged her mare a few silent steps forward, surveying the back of the Tainted beasts as they savored their kill. Just as she was about to give up Inara saw movement, and there he was. Wounded but alive. I'm coming Tryn… Inara thought, Stay quiet, please stay quiet.

Run.

Inch upon inch he moved backward, torn between fleeing as prey before an apex predator and freezing in terror. The beast was fortunately unaware, but it could see him at any moment. Would see him, Tryn felt certain. Him, or...

He glanced around, the consuming thought briefly pushing aside the instinct to retreat. There. There she was; Inara still sat upon her horse, apparently having escaped any kind of attack or trauma. But for how much longer? Certainly very soon, if she kept advancing like that. Then it dawned on him: She's coming for me.

A mixture of fury and fear filled him. What was she doing?! If she came nearer, the beast that stood close by him would surely notice her! The she-elf was riding toward certain death, and the damned mare was allowing herself to be so led!

The mare.

It was the only way. He might possibly survive, if things went south, but Inara would be slaughtered horribly. And while he's never been terribly close to her, Tryn would do anything to keep a fellow being safe. So, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves as he readied himself for the consequences of his actions, the woodsman looked up from where he was watching the horse's hooves to star directly into her eyes. And the poor mare, unprepared, met his gaze.

Instinct flared to life within the wounded man, overwhelming his better sense, and under his breath he growled menacingly.

"RUN."

Before she had time to react to Tryn's deep and guttural command, the mare beneath her shuddered and went still for the briefest instant. If Inara hadn't had such a firm grip on the reins when her mare reared, she would have been flat on her back, sprawled eagle on the bloodstained road. What the...? The mare neighed loudly in fear, stepping backward with every heartbeat. She tried to urge her forward, towards Tryn, but the mare wasn't having any of it. Looking around wildly with fear settling itself in her breast, Inara prayed another shadow beast wasn't trampling its way towards them.

"RUN!" Tryn's voice echoed in her mind.

I can't! I won't leave you to die like this!

But it was no use, the mare was already turning around, terror evident in her body language. As the mare galloped away, Inara glanced back at her wounded traveling companion and all she could feel was the shame, pity, and regret burning a hole right through her soul.

Good; the gamble worked. The mare was bolting, fleeing the scene as quickly as it could, and Inara was being borne away to safety. The Tainted didn't look up, wrapped up in their meals. Tryn smiled as his mind slipped into unconsciousness. She would be safe to travel on and aide the others, for the shadow beasts would likely destroy him, outnumbered as he was. But at least he wouldn't feel it. As his sight blurred and his body contorted involuntarily, the woodsman had one final moment of consciousness, and he thought fondly of the foreign woman he'd met some time ago that had so recently reentered his life. It was odd, that he should think of Azzara in that moment. He'd met the dark-skinned woman years ago, and though he remembered her with a great deal of...well, it wasn't fondness. That was a part of it, to be sure, but there was something else that had drawn the Thall to the southern woman. She was so learned, so smart, yet for all her cultured knowledge she had remained fierce and dangerous. He'd only caught a glimpse of her during their meeting with the Shae. She had looked well, but the time hadn't seemed right to greet her. Now he doubted he'd ever get to do so.

Suddenly blackness took his mind, and he remembered nothing more.

Stop. Stop.

Inara slowed her mare down as they neared the village territory they had passed through not two hours prior. She looked around for signs that would lead her to the men that fled from the roadblock. She cursed under her breath, finding nothing but faded hoof prints. Probably from her and her companions. Cowards they were, all of them. But what did that make her? Her eyes were red and puffy and still stung from tears. She had never left another to die like that... Inara wiped her eyes harshly, blatantly ignoring the throbbing ache in her chest.

"Tchick-tchick." Inara said finally, urging her mare onwards. She rode to the horse stables, got off her mare - who deserved more than just a name by now - and untied her saddle bag before leading the horse to the first attendant she saw.

"Clean her wound and apply whatever salve you may have." Inara said brashly. She pinched the bridge of her nose in impatience. "Please, and feed her the best grain you have." The elderly man nodded his head with eyebrows raised, but didn't say a word. Thankful, she pulled out a fistful of coins and handed them and the reins to the man before walking off in search of a tavern.

As there was only one small tavern in the village, it wasn't too hard to find. Inara adjusted the saddlebag on her shoulder, wishing she'd left her bow with her mare. The tavern was dark but clean despite its inhabitants. Inara kept her eyes to herself after scanning the room; none of the men gathered had been at the roadblock. Taking a seat on the hard, wooden barstool a disgruntled looking man walked up and slammed a glass down in front of her.

"What're drinkin she-elf?" The man spat out.

"Whatever you want to serve me Thall." She replied, slapping down a few coins against the bar.

He picked up the coins and brought them close to his half-swollen left eye. With a satisfied grunt, he reached beneath the bar and pulled out a bottle. The barman poured the amber liquid in her glass and she downed it in one swallow. He gave her an almost satisfied look and refilled her glass. Inara sipped on her second one, appreciating the burn and the clarity it gave her.

He's not dead, he can't be. Inara thought, struggling with the battle raging in her head. He was surrounded by Tainted, there's no way he's still alive. But... She wrestled with the reality of the situation and what she hoped to be. He's a Thall ranger who lives in the woodlands of Eversyth... He has to be a resourceful man... She closed her eyes and Inara had to problem summoning the memory of the Tainted that had charged after her. Deranged, bloodthirsty eyes stared her down with life blood dripping from its muzzle. She shivered out of the memory with one last thought: If I can kill one, then that damn Thall can.

She emptied her drink with grim determination. "Barman," Inara called out.

"Yea?"

"Does this village have an apothecary?" She asked with a brow raised.

"Not exactly," He grumbled, "But there's this lady down the road who sells the village herbs."

She stood up with a nod. "Thank you," Inara said genuinely, "Which way?"

"Take a left outta the tavern." He replied with a shrug.

Inara left without a 'your welcome' and made her way towards the village herbalist, praying she had some salves already made.

A few hours later...

With her coin purse significantly lighter and the sun drooping just above the horizon, Inara made her way back to the stables for the second time since her arrival back into the village. The elderly man she had met before was waiting for her. He held the reins of two horses, her mare - who she had recently named Tenerea - and a beautiful sorrel colored stallion. She had paid for the latter earlier in the day and the saddle strapped to him had costed her a pretty penny. That Thall better be alive.

The man before her had yet to question her purchases and she wondered if his respite would end before she left. Inara tied down her saddle bag, making sure the salves and herbs were well secured before climbing atop Tenerea.

"Be safe in your travels young she-elf." The man said quietly as he handed her the reins to the stallion.

Inara smiled at the man, taking note of the way he said she-elf. He said it almost kindly, much unlike the barman.

"Thank you." She said before clicking her tongue and urging her mare onwards. Inara turned back and looked at the man, "Stay alert my good man, Tainted have been seen close to this village."

She turned from his widened, horror-filled eyes and rode off into the growing twilight.

Tryn awoke with a gasp. Muscles were stiff, joints cold and fragile. And his sword wound... Thinking about it was a mistake. His back arched from the veritable tsunami of pain that spread across his whole being, and he cradled his injury with his good arm. He had awakened with his eyes shut, and he kept them that way; he was terrified to see either himself or the surroundings in which he lay.

But he didn't need to. The sharp intake of breath the woodsman had taken when he'd first regained consciousness had exposed him to the sharp odor of carnage about him: the iron of blood, the disgust of viscera. But all was silent. All was dead. Carefully, afraid of what he'd find, he opened his eyes.

Bodies lay strewn everywhere, still lying where they'd fallen to the Tainted attack from before. Discarded weapons sat near still hands, effectively useless against them. But there was more. Furrows in the ground, akin to that which is made by burrowing animals, were spread around him, and the huge forms of the Tainted lay within spitting distance. Graciously, there was no sign of Inara. Tryn shivered; his clothes, barely identifiable as such, were in tatters, and the cold wind of early evening bit into his exposed skin. The source of his pain, the sword wound, was mangled far beyond what had originally occurred, and new, less serious, injuries covered him.

No matter how he tried, Tryn could not make himself move; the pain was too great. He could only curl and shiver, and wait for death.

But at least Inara got away.

The journey down the road seemed to take twice as long. Whether it was due to the stallion at her side or the growing darkness around her, Inara felt the impatience simmering deep within her bones. She wanted to let Tenerea fly like the wind but she restrained her to a solid canter. Inara needed to keep her eyes peeled and her ears open, just in case the Tainted were still around. She doubted it, but precaution was necessary.

Just before the light was removed from the world, Inara and her horses came upon the carnage. All three stopped simultaneously, taking in the horrifying scene before them. All she could see were bodies, limbs, and viscera. All she could smell was death. The gore painted the road a dark inky red, and Inara’s breath hitched in her throat as she looked for the Thall in the fading daylight. She clucked her tongue and urged Tenerea forward and the ever dutiful mare trudged on but the stallion nickered and shook his head. It took her a few precious minutes to talk him into it, but eventually the stallion walked on, and Inara continued her search for Tryn.

She realized with a slight shock that all four Tainted lay dead in the road. The one she killed… and the three Tryn must have defeated. Anxious hope rose up within her but was soon crushed as she made her way through the fallen men. The slaughter was too much to bare and she desperately wished to close her eyes against the horror, to flee this dreadful scene… But she needed to find Tryn, she needed to see if he was still alive. Despite the ordeal with the road blockers, she found herself full of pity, crying at the loss of life in such a brutal manner. No one deserved a fate such as this. More tears leaked from her eyes and she did everything she could to banish the images forming in her mind's eye: her traveling partner being ripped to shreds by shadow creatures.

No. Inara thought, He killed the Tainted and he’s still alive.

Inara continued her search with reckless abandon, stopping and looking down at each body. Finally, nearest the Tainted lay one body surrounded by deep ruts in the ground… And it was shivering. Her heart skipped a beat and she nearly jumped from her mare. She led the two horses around the shadow creatures and tied them to a tree not too far away from the body in question. Inara was unsure at first, but with every step she recognized more and more of him. And with recognition came confusion and questions. What caused the ruts? Why were his clothes torn to shreds?

Whatever the answer; Inara rushed back to Tenerea, grabbing the salves, herbs, bandages, and clean water she paid for back in the village. She laid the supplies next to the Thall and made quick work of looking for something not too bloodied, not too torn, and something that might just fit him. Oddly enough, Inara managed to find a leather fur-lined cloak that was plenty big and only had a single rip near the bottom.

Kneeling beside him, Inara wondered if he was even conscious. “Trynten,” she said softly, halfway to tears. “You lucky bastard, you killed them all! I came back and I’m going to patch you up so I can kill you later. Don’t ever do that again.” She hiccuped and laughed at the same time, waiting for him to respond and gauging the extent of his injuries.

A sound stabbed through the fog of frozen unconsciousness that he'd slipped into. It was a pleasant sound, a balm on his scarred mind after the nightmares he remembered. It brought him to some consciousness, and with it came again the rush of pain from his wounds. Tryn gasped, unable to do much beyond simply groan. His breath heaved, but he brought it under enough control to wheeze out a single word: "Damn."

Dragongal · Jun 16, 2016

{/FONT=Satisfy] Solana Petyra and Tza'Hal Agraf [/font]

A collab between Dragongal and Doctor Jax

The tree would have been tricky, had Solana not been used to weak trees at a high speed. One of the parts of her daily runs that her master made her do was climb saplings or smaller, dying trees, in order to get up to the bigger, healthier trees. She was keeping an eye on the other climbers who perhaps had less experience in such conditions, but her help didn't seem necessary. At the base of the tree, she waited patiently to try to help break anyone's fall if it was needed (which it was luckily not). As she waited, though, she felt something rather heartening.

Once everyone was on the ground, she walked over to Hal. Wynleth was still out searching for tracks at this time. Solana quietly said, with a slight smile on her face, "There used to be large concentrations of magic in this area. Pure magic, nothing... tainted. I can tell, there's still traces left in the roots of that tree. I think that might be a sign that we're in the right place. I don't know for certain, I can't tell past the traces, but I thought I would let you know some good news." Solana gave him one last smile before turning toward Tza'Hal.

Solana walked over to Tza'Hal with a bit of hesitancy. The young elf had never met an orc before Tza'Hal, and it would be rude to interrupt the orc's meditation, but time was of the essence, and Solana wanted to do her job well. In honesty, she felt like she was trying to prove herself after what had happened earlier, especially since she was the youngest in the group and her value lie in her abilities as a healer. Solana cleared her throat, and quietly said, "Please forgive my intrusion, I realize that you're meditating, but may I please look at the burn on your arm? It's important that it's tended to as soon as possible."

The orc scrunched her nose, and to the observant, one could see her eyes roll heavenward beneath her shut eyelids. She had hoped to get some much needed mental rest after all this, but apparently this was not possible. Everyone was busying themselves about her burn, and that was quite annoying. It was a mere singe, nothing more, nothing less.

"You may look," Tza'Hal grumbled, holding out her arm without ever breaking her meditating pose. The young magic user had best make this quick...

Solana inwardly sighed and sat down next to Tza'Hal. This orc clearly wasn't happy with needing medical help. The burn wasn't severe, but did need some attention. "I'm just going to put a salve on it and bind it. That should be all that is needed. With your permission...?" Tza'Hal had said she could look at the wound, not that she could tend to the wound.

Tza'Hal's shoulders slowly relaxed as her mind entered something like a calm state. She opened her eyes slightly to look at the young magic user. Ye gods, she could not be more than a child! What business did the fate of the world have, sending such young ones into the fray as it were? Charlie and Solana seemed to be among the youngest in their cadre of "warriors" (though "misfits" seemed a better word). Too late, Tza'Hal realized that perhaps she'd been... overly blunt. It was in her nature to get right to the point.

"Proceed. I have no qualms with such. You should save it for a more opportune time, but that is your choice, not mine. I am no healer," Tza'Hal answered, offering the young woman the offended limb. In fact, it did sting a good bit, but Tza'Hal was used to blocking out her aches and pains by now. Years of hard living, combined with the impoverished lifestyle of a monk, had hardened her to discomfort, but there was a definite bite to the burn on her arm. That, and it was chilly in here...

"And seeing as you're tending me, if you happen to have a blanket lying around..." Tza'Hal grumbled in a low voice, almost begrudgingly.

Solana set to applying the salve to the burn. She did her best to be as gentle as possible, using practiced hands to avoid causing further pain. The orc in honesty kind of scared her - partly because she was the first orc the Sur had ever met, and partly because Tza'Hal was, to put it simply, rather intimidating. Monk or no, she still seemed able to kill someone easily. Once the salve was on, Solana set to bandaging the burn.

When Tza'Hal asked for a blanket though, Solana had to smile. So the orc wasn't all tough and gruff. Of course, she'd been talking to Charlie earlier, so Solana should have assumed that. Once the bandaging was in place and secure, she pulled off her pack and sorted around. "Sure thing." After a few moments, she pulled out a thick wool blanket and offered it to Tza'Hal.

Tza'Hal gratefully accepted the blanket, noting the care with which the young woman handed it to her. It was only then that Tza'Hal also noticed the fire blazing behind her, around which Hal and the others had gathered. Tza'Hal shifted, wondering if she should go to her companions or rather resume her meditation practices. She had meditated for quite a long time, after all. Her mind wasn't about to get much clearer.

"Tell me -- what brings you here? Aside from a shae's letter. You seem far too young," Tza'Hal asked.

Solana looked at the orc in silence for a few seconds. In a way she was right, Solana was the youngest of the group. Finally, Solana said slowly, "My parents were killed by the Sickness.... A healer took me in as an apprentice. I've seen too many people die from the Sickness... good people and bad people. Mostly good." Solana paused, wondering how to phrase her next sentence. Would the orc understand what she meant? "I've always wanted to help people, when I can. Now I have the chance to."

Solana paused for a few seconds, then quietly asked, "If you were planning on meditating more... may I join you?" This would mark her first time trying to meditate, but it seemed like a good practice, and at the moment, she felt like she could use some balance.

Tza'Hal listened quietly and intently to the girl's explanation. A pang lanced her heart the mention of the Sickness, though she did not show any outward signs of having felt such a piercing empathy. She had watched many die of the Sickness as well, and she had felt even for the magic users while she'd traversed the Sur's lands in search of truth. Indeed, the old and young were the most vulnerable, and no doubt most were innocent of any wrongdoing other than the poor fact that they were those whose lives were somehow linked to the Tree. The girl had chosen a noble path, though it was lined with sharp thorns. Such was the life of those with ideals. Tza'Hal would scoff, if she herself hadn't wished she had the courage to seek such a path herself.

"Hmm," Tza'Hal murmured to the offer, nodding her head to the side with the blanket thrown over her shoulders like a cloak. She looked, for all the world, like some wearied scholar.

"Focus your mind on one point. Think of nothing else. The masters think of nothing at all when meditating. I am no master," Tza'Hal explained, guessing that she was not well-versed in the art. Strange, as it was a practice derived from magic users. They weren't all weaklings who relied on their precious elements. "Think only of breathing, only through the nose. Breath from the diaphragm, here --" She gestured to the space just above her stomach. "--As if you are about to shout."

With that, Tza'Hal turned and resumed her meditation, falling into a deep, still silence to let the girl practice as well on her own. It was an art that required quite a bit of patience -- it was amazing just how much goes on in the mind when unchecked -- but it was well worth the time.

It sounded simple enough. Solana moved from kneeling to sitting like Tza'Hal and watched the orc for a few moments before closing her own eyes. It was easy for the young healer to not fidget, given that she was trained not to already, but the thinking of nothing was quite a bit more difficult. She constantly found her mind wandering to the issues of the Shadow, the seed, her parents, her old master, her partners in the journey, the ride on the airship.... Eventually she managed to silence at least the majority of her thoughts and focus on trying to meditate like Tza'Hal. It seemed easier to simply focus on her arcane magic - she could sense where everyone was through their aetherial presence, and her connection to the Aether itself seemed much more apparent to her.

Tza'Hal peeked from beneath an eyelid at the girl. Ram-rod straight posture, completely still -- the child already knew how to control the body. However, the roaming eyes beneath the eyelids spoke to the child's apparently roving mind. Tza'Hal smirked just a bit, amused. Nevertheless, the girl seemed better attuned to meditation than some the orc had seen. She already had the talent for concentration (perhaps an effect of that blasted magic), and Tza'Hal recalled that she had spent the largest part of the journey with her nose stuck in some book. She would've made for a fine monk, if the girl had ever taken to the inclination of induced poverty.

Tza'Hal closed her eyes again and went back into the silence of meditation. The quiet seemed to envelope them both in its embrace as behind them the fire crackled, and before them, the monument to the fallen Warden loomed with great gravity, as if watching over them all.

Effervescent · Jun 17, 2016

The Northern Mountains

Having the warmth of the fire so close was comforting. Hal shrugged off a layer of furs as he felt the warmth seep down into his bones. It was a cold day still in Spring for the Northern Mountains, though this high up it would always be so. And yet the cave was far more temperate and comfortable than the mountain's exterior.

Everyone seemed to have made it down the large tree and we're off looking about the cavern's expanse. Hal took it upon himself to set up camp and insure everyone had a place to rest comfortably. Wynleth's approach brought curiosity as she lugged a heavy bag at his feet. He took the stale jerky she produced from the bag and carefully sniffed it. The piece was well cured, albeit a little dry. It seemed, none the less, edible. He bit off a piece as he looked through the rest of the bag.

"Where did you find this?" he asked with interest, a smile broadening his lips as he took out the journal. "This is... Is this legitimate you think?"

"Not too far into the cavern... maybe a three minutes walk or so." Gesturing in the direction she'd come from, she shrugged, "I could take you back there, if you want to see... though I didn't find anything else of interest. Might be, further in, but it gets a bit darker. What I read of it seems fairly legitimate, if you ask me. I can't imagine someone going to the trouble of writing a journal like that if it wasn't."

His eyes glanced up to the darkness to which Wynleth pointed. Why would anyone leave such an interesting find behind? Hal brought his thumb to the corner of the leather bound journal and rapidly flipped through the pages in thought. After hitting the half way mark, a note slipped from between the pages and onto his lap. He set the journal down upon the bag as his interests shifted and his fingers plucked up the loose parchment.

"Remember our agreement," he read out loud. "This looks..."

Hal didn't finish the sentence, his voice trailing off as he moved back to rummage through the bag at his feet. A hearty laugh escaped him as he removed the crystal from within and brought it up to Wynleth's view. "We've got to be in the right place," he said to her. "Whoever used to own this was told to come here."

Leaning forward, she peered at the note, a brow quirked, "What agreement, I wonder?" Stepping back, her eyes moved downward as Hal lifted the crystal from the bag, "They were after the Seed as well, then?"

And given the age of those things within the bag, it was doubtful they'd found it, but it was encouraging, nonetheless, to know they were headed in the right direction. And Wyn needed it, the encouragement, "Come on... I'll show you where I found the bag. Maybe I missed something?"

Hal nodded in response as he rummaged through the bag again. "Possibly," he said as he placed each item carefully to the side. The long dragon tooth was given a longer gander as he turned it about in his hand. But once all the contents were removed he was met with nothing but dust and dirt. Hal overturned the bag to let the granules fall to the ground and shook it out.

"Of course finding the seed wouldn't be that easy," he said as he rose to a stand. He dusted off his pants with a little disappointment. "Maybe it's there. Maybe it's gone. Maybe... it never existed. Either way, lead on! Adventure awaits!"

She couldn't help the twitch of a smile that spread at his words - possibly the first genuine smile she'd mustered in days. Adventure. That sounded a great deal better than dodging Shadow casters and climbing down icy branches into a warm, dark abyss. Turning in the direction she'd arrived from, retracing her steps, she nodded.

"It's here. It has to be. I... I can't believe that all the sacrifices were for nothing. I won't. It's got to be here."

She had brought them to an insignificant portion of the large cavern. It was dark, and it wasn't easy to tell if the cave went much further than where they were standing. There were still visible signs of past vegetation now dead, their brown stalks lopsided and crumbled and delicate. Golden colored moss padded the earth below their feet in spotted patches. Hal was more concerned with the desperation he detected in the elf's voice, though he still crouched to the ground and moved his hand about the dirt in search.

"Wyn," Hal began, "this seed can't be the only way to end this. I don't believe the sacrifices will be in vain even if we don't find what we are looking for."

Bending down, Wyn searched the dirt as well, but it was with a sense of distraction, her lips curved in a frown hardly visible in the darkness, "...I've seen what they can do, Hal. They... they don't just kill, they... it's like they pull out your soul. I saw it... with my brother, when they brought him home to us. And... and with the others."

Straightening, she dusted off her hands, shaking her head, "I need to find it. For them. I'm not sure we can defeat the Shadow without it."

It felt like a fool's errand looking for a seed in the dark among dirt. Every pebble or clump felt like it could be something, and it got to the point where the texture just made his hands feel numb. A sigh escaped him as he looked back towards the glow of his little campfire taking note of the expanse. This could take days if there was even a seed left to find. Everything was dead. He looked up at Wynleth with sadnesses etched in a furrowed brow.

"We can find a way," Hal encouraged. "I refuse to believe there is a no-win scenario."

He placed his hand upon a large rock as he moved to stand, but his hand quickly retracted at the strange sensation he felt from it. It was warm and felt almost as though there was energy. Hal slowly placed his hand on the rock again to get a better feel. It wasn't an unwelcoming feeling. He picked it up with both hands and brought it up for Wynleth to gander with him.

The rock had a heft to it, but when shown in the light it was perhaps the only thing within the cavern that had any green. A little ecosystem grew upon the top with moss and clover and a stray wildflower or two. What could be seen under the web of roots looked like the texture of an almond. Hal couldn't believe his eyes, and he looked up to Wynleth in shock.

"Use your magic on it," he whispered. "Then we can know before we tell the others."

It was a strange feeling, not being the optimist for once... and Wyn could understand both why she'd annoyed her brother so much sometimes, and why he seemed to love her so dearly. Hal's words were both frustrating and uplifting and while she wasn't entirely convinced they were true, it made her feel better to know at least there was hope in someone...

And that might have been enough, but as Hal brought the rock to her, Wyn felt her pulse quicken, her eyes widening at the sight of it. It had to be... it just had to be.

"My... my mag... Oh." Frowning softly, she glanced up, her eyes bright and not but a little frightened, "I... Oh, Hal, you musn't tell the others. I'm... I'm not very good. I'm not very at all." Swallowing, she glanced down at her hands, "You... you'd best step back, just in case."

A small chuckle escaped him. "You worry enough for the lot of us," he said as he held the object in question up towards her. "I trust you'll do just fine... Unless you wield fire. In that case-". Playfully, Hal shifted his stance to stand to the side before Wynleth, his body leaning dramatically forward as he held the object far from his body. "A little singe shouldn't hurt."

Looking up at him, Wyn swallowed again, and biting nervously on her lip, stared first at the rock, before glancing up at Hal, "Oh hell..."

Reaching out, eyes closed she pressed a hand to the rock and as she'd done only a few times in her life, channeled the magic through. It took a great deal more concentration that it might have a seasoned user, but in truth it was a great deal easier to magic a rock than it might have been an assailant. Like a crawl, the ice spread over the surface of the rock, slow and a bit uneven, but steering graciously clear of Hal's hands.

Peeking an eye open, Wyn watched.

Ice trickled over the rock in a beautiful and delicate display. The vegetation froze in a glossy sheen, and light traced across the surface below the tangled roots. Hal brushed his thumb over the frosted moss in wonder. They had found it; the Seed of Life. But his wonder did not remain long, for suddenly he and the Seed were flung from each other in a burst of awakened energy. The Seed rolled to a stop, it's glow still present where it rested in the darkness. Hal coughed as he found himself flat on his back twenty meters away.

With a small squeak of surprised, Wyn watched at Hal and rock were thrown apart and moving swiftly she raced to the Balduri's side, dropping to her knees. Hands hovering uncertainly over him, she gaped for a moment, "Are you alright? You're not hurt, are you??"

As soon as he could fill his lungs properly, Hal began to laugh. He rolled over and pushed himself up to a sit. "We found it, Wyn!" he exclaimed in excitement as he motioned towards the large glowing seed. "We found the Seed of Life!"

Scrambling to his feet, he rushed over to pick it up once again. It took both of his hands, the size and weight close to a year-old baby. The glow flickered at his touch and died down to a soft hue. The ice had already begun to melt with the warmth that carried through the cavern leaving the moss and roots dewy and wet. Energy pulsed through the Seed like a heartbeat, and Hal excitedly brought it over to Wynleth, holding it out to the Sur with a giddy smile.

"Hold it!" he said as he began to hand it over to her. "This is amazing! I know where we have to go! The Shae was right!"

Startled by the laughter, Wyn pulled back, straightening upright as Hal did. She watched, slightly alarmed as he moved to the rock and plucked it up again, but regardless of her fear, there was something nearly contagious about his joy. As he approached and held the rock out, she stared at it, shaking her head.

"...We..." Tears stung her eyes as she reached out, just one hand, trembling, to touch the stone, the warmth and energy palpable through the pads of her fingers, the glow flickering. "We found it." But she didn't take the stone from him. Instead, with something between a laugh and a sob, she threw her arms around his shoulder and hugged him, probably a little too tightly.

"We found it!"

Tucking the Seed to his body with one arm, he used the other to complete the embrace with Wynleth, giving her a little squeeze to gather her weight. With that he brought her off her feet and spun her around in a circle before setting her back down. "Let's go tell the others," he said as he nodded towards the campfire.

Pale cheeks burning red, Wynleth nodded as she released him and stepped back. Without a word, she started back in the direction that they had come from, but not remotely with the same disposition she had left their camp with.

“We found it!” Hal exclaimed as he rushed toward the campfire. His voice carried through the cavernous space. He could barely contain his energy and excitement in the prospects contained within this very discovery. They could save the world. They could travel to lands he had never even hear of. And finally a fantasy story was brought to fruition. Once he neared the firelight he halted to catch his breath, the heft of the Seed making the trek more work than he was used to.

“We found the Seed of Life!”

By this point Hal looked a mess. Dirt covered his pants and hands and even parts of his face from his endeavors to find the Seed. He had expected something far smaller and easier to carry, so the sight of something so large still widened his smile. Moss and clovers made a soft bed upon the top portion of the Seed, green and surviving among the desolate and dead flora within the cave. Roots wove together thickly around the other half to where the texture of the actual seed could barely be seen. There was a faint green glow that etched across the root covered surface in patterns akin to veins. It was impressive, and it definitely fit the mysticism surrounding the Seed of Life. Hal was eager to let the others know the truth.

@Elle Joyner @Space Cowboy Ein @Doctor Jax @Dragongal @CloudyBlueDay @JDParadox @BookWyrm

On the Road to Lauderdine

The scene was left in a gruesome state, yet somehow the only survivor was a man who slipped into unconsciousness. Trynten was lucky to be alive, and lucky to have someone…or something…watching his back. The air was stale with the scent of metal and dampened earth. Everything was still eerily quiet as though the birds had all fled and the insects had hidden away to safety. Inara approached a massacre, and it was all due to Shadow Magic.

The unfortunate souls of the Tainted, now dead, returned to their human forms, naked and eviscerated. It was a cold reminder of how the Shadow could twist anyone into monsters. Two men and two women accompanied the bodies of the bandits splayed across the road. The worst was over… at least for now.

“Did you do this?”

The voice came from a woman within the treeline. She approached cautiously, accompanied by three others with hesitancy about them. They were dressed in dark leathers, their faces partially covered by fabric and their heads with black hoods. Every part of them carried some form of weapon meant for all manner of ranges. But they did not draw their weapons upon approach. The woman’s eyes carried to Trynten’s injuries.

“We don't want any trouble,” the woman explained. “We can help if you want it.”

@Red Thunder @Rissa

CloudyBlueDay · Jun 18, 2016

Despite the young half-elf's furious belief that he would not fall asleep very easily, Charlie found his eyelids to be getting heavier and heavier against his will. Every few moments his head would droop, then he would gasp and sit up straight, make some sort of pained noise or glance around in a startled manner, and repeat. He desperately needed rest, but he wouldn't allow himself to have it, the fear of nightmares causing him to strain to stay awake. Scared little Charlie, afraid of the big bad shadow. It was bad enough that he heard that voice when he was awake, he refused to hear it when he went to sleep.

Charlie put down the whittling knife and turned over the finished chess piece in his hands. He wasn't particularly proud of this one, though he couldn't say why. Maybe I just made it at a bad time. He thought to himself, flopping on his back and keeping his gaze trained up above, while he held the chess piece tightly in a closed fist at his side. "Some day I had." He said aloud, quietly, letting out a sigh. His eyelids drooped and his posture relaxed, and the boy finally fell asleep.

Just like he'd predicted, nightmares followed him. He was back in the fire of his home. It didn't hurt when it licked at his skin, so that meant it was his own. His own fire, had engulfed the home. The girl. For a long time, he just watched the fire blaze around him, too afraid to move, too afraid to consider the damage he'd done. He took one step, just one tiny step -- and something crunched beneath his foot.

A bone. A human bone.

Now he could see the entire floor, littered with skeletal parts. Not a piece of wooden flooring was visible, it was all just.. all remains. His breathing was quickening, he was panicking, stumbling, and then he fell. Right in the floor made of bones. And he was sinking into it, the bones were like quicksand. He couldn't breathe, he was so terrified. And then he couldn't breathe because he was trapped so deeply beneath the mounds of bones.

“We found it!” It was a voice in the distance, familiar, one he felt as if he couldn't reach. “We found the Seed of Life!”

Charlie awoke abruptly, the same way he had when the shade had been ripped from his body. He clutched his stinging chest as he coughed from both the suddenness of the awakening and the pain that washed over him. Hal was talking. Charlie strained to focus on the words that had leaked into his dreams. What had he said? Wait, what was he carrying? Wow. He looked rather giddy.

Charlie blinked. The Seed of Life. He was holding the Seed of Life.

Against his (and everyone else's) better judgement, Charlie scrambled to his feet, pocketing his newly finished chess piece and whittling knife. He wheezed into the crook of his arm and the pain originating from his chest was begging him to stay put, but oh, how could he? Such a request was made to be denied. This was the Seed of Life they were talking about here!

It was much larger then he'd imagined it -- hell, he'd imagined it to be the size of a bean, not the size of a child. It was covered in moss and clovers but he could see it glowing, pulsing. It looked so inviting, so warm. Charlie wanted nothing more then to touch it, just once. But images of the fire and the bones resurfaced in his mind and Charlie retracted the hand he had stretched out without even realizing it. He would not even dare take the risk of reducing the very thing that would save them to ashes, and Charlie no longer fully trusted his own magical capabilities. Not after the whole ordeal.

"Wow." He said hoarsely. "What do you -- what do we do with it now?"

I N F O: LOCATION

The Mouth of the Mountain

WITH

seed group bruh (you know who you areeee)

Red Thunder · Jun 18, 2016

Trynten Lothorsen

The newcomers elicited no reaction from Trynten. He lay still curled and cradling his arm, blind to the world. Through the pain a memory seeped into his mind; unbidden but not unwelcome.

___________________

Azzara never thought that her first pilgrimage to Syth was going to end up like this. After four years of travel from one town to the other, the young Maldviri woman had felt brave enough to venture through the forests of Eversyth without any assistance. It was due in one part to her stubbornness and another to her pride. The first night came and went, but she couldn't shake the feeling that somehow she was being watched. And, as per usual, her suspicions were correct. As soon as she started to make camp on the second night she was attacked by a tainted monstrosity.

It had burst forth from the surrounding brush without warning and gave Azzara little time to to anything aside from run like hell. And run she did. The best that she could do was to keep to thicker parts of the woods, else the beast would simply accelerate and tear her to shreds. Her heart and mind raced as she tried to figure out a plan of action. All she had was her sword on her, and what Inner Light she could muster in such a panicked state. Eventually she was going to run out of breath, and if she didn't do something she'd die.

But it seemed that the Tainted had other plans. A pained yelp escaped the young woman as a trio of sharp claws tore across her shoulder blades. The pain was unbearable and caused her to stumble over a group of thick roots protruding unconventionally from the ground. Her body met cold, hard dirt with enough momentum to knock the wind from her and left the coppery tang of blood on her tongue. The pain quickly took a backseat to the realization that the beast would be upon her. Azzara scrambled onto her back and drew her sword as the Tainted halted it's pursuit momentarily. It's eyes followed the tip of her blade and she knew she'd only get one chance, then she'd be dead. At the least she would hope to take the beast with her and rid the ailing world of one more problem.

To an ear unaccustomed to the nightly noises of the wooden halls through which the beast had pursued her, the sudden crescendo in the wind's breath might have sounded as if the breeze had merely picked up its pace momentarily. But it wasn't the wind. A blade tip blossomed forth suddenly from the Tainted's chest on its right side, pointed downward as if the blade entered from high up on the thing's back, and the form that wielded it grunted as it ripped the sword free. Spinning with the momentum of the action, the figure swung the weapon around, slashing the creature across its back. Black blood gushed from both wounds, steaming as it contacted the cooler air.

But the beast's wounds did not seem to faze it; the Shadow magic that had created it would not let it die so easily. Nor, evidently, had the damage been incapacitating to any degree, for it swung around to meet its new threat, claws slashing and teeth gnashing. The swordsman leapt backwards out of its reach, seemingly ready for the counterattack. Now that it was still, the figure was easier to make out: it was a male of some breed, hooded and cloaked and armored in leather. He held the sword confidently but unprofessionally, as though he'd trained himself for years in swordplay without guidance.

"Run!" He yelled at Azzara, his voice gravely in concentration and anxiety. "I'll keep it busy!"

Azzara watched the beast lurch forward and winced, ready for her last moment. But it never came. The beast was the one to give a pained growl as the tip of a blade protruded from its chest. And it was gone as quickly as it had come, its owner doing its best to keep the attention of the Tainted. She returned to her feet, adrenaline already working to null the pain of her previous wound though it smarted greatly. A quick shift in position gave her a shadowed view of her savior. The moment he saw her she was ordered to run, and she almost took him up on the offer. But doing so would most assuredly mean death for him, and that was something the young Maldviri could not abide by. Not to mention it would be abetting evil, and she could not betray her Light, or her mentor, by turning tail now.

"Then I will end it!" She responded through gritted teeth. She had been focusing to her best ability since she drew her sword on the ground and she was just about ready. She just had to hope the man could dodge for a little while longer. And then, it was ready. She gathered the rest of her grit and shouted to grab the beast's attention. With a snarl it started towards her but it was all an outstretched hand, a series quick, low murmurs and a brilliant flash of light. When sight was restored, the Tainted was left flailing on the ground, grasping at itself until finally it laid still.

The casting had left Azzara somewhat fatigued. With a large exhale is leaned against a nearby tree. Her sword dropped from her hand and she was finally feeling the blood dripping from her back and down her robes. The pain was become less and less bearable and the young woman was wondering if the severe wound was going to be fatal, even if the plague of shadow could not corrupt her.

-Aragorn-inThe-Fellowship-of-the-Ring-lord-of-the-rings-2230580-960-404.jpg

Almost as if he were ignoring her, the hooded man stepped up to the fallen creature. Even in stillness and silence, the Tainted was a terrifying figure. He grunted in disgust, and raising the sword above his head, he brought it down like a thunderclap to split the beast's head from his shoulders. Apparently satisfied, he looked up. And cursed, evidently realizing the state Azzara now found herself in. He ran up to her, yanking off his hooded cloak as he did. The face that now appeared was full of fear and trepidation, and distrust. Nevertheless, he took her by the shoulders and began guiding her to the ground.

"Sit!" he commanded, leaving little room for argument. "You're badly wounded."

Using a large dagger that he pulled from behind him, the bedraggled man began cutting his cloak into strips and binding her injuries with them.

Two firm hands and a command brought Azzara back to the real world. Before she knew it, she was on the ground beside the tree and looking up into the grizzled face of her savior. He was grizzled, but in a young way, he was probably a few years old than herself. It was hard to tell in the twilight. "Okay..." she replied wearily and much too late. Her eyes focused on the dagger and her body tensed, even as he began fixing bandages around her. She remained as still as she could, only letting out a whimper whenever he pressed into a tender spot. "I..guess I should say thanks..ah!"

Concern blossomed across his face, and he retracted his handsquickly.

"Sorry!" Slowly, with a fair bit more care than before, the man finished dressing her wounds. Capping the canteen he'd used, he stood to retrieve his sword and sheath it before peering back down at her.

"You're not from around here." A statement of fact. It wasn't a stretch to make: Azzara's complexion, not to mention her facial features, marked her as a foreigner to that part of the world. "Where's the rest of your group? Were they..."

He fell silent, glancing at the still form of the Tainted ominously before looking back at her expectantly, his left hand never far from his sword hilt. His questions, his hesitation, were perfectly natural, given his evident solo travel. A misstep, a person unduly trusted, could end life quickly in the wild for the lone wanderer, and those who pertook of that particular lifestyle did well to question the circumstances and motives of any they came across.

Azzara sighed as the man pulled back from dressing her wounds if only for the moment. It was painful, but she was thankful nonetheless. While he finished up, her eyes searched the ground for her blade. While the man was technically her savior, he could just want her alive for other reasons. For the sake of both of them she hoped he could do will by parting with a few gold pieces. She'd hold off on going for the weapon for now, it would just cause more undue pain from her wounds. Diplomacy first, violence last, always.

"I was travelling alone." She looked the man over and wondered if he was as wary of her. "I was going to travel to Syth to further my studies there. I was making camp for the evening when that abomination attacked me. I ran until I fell to injury, and at the right time it seems. I was as good as dead..." Azzara shifted against the tree and made a slow attempt to stand. "I doubt you were out here hunting Tainted on your own? Are you with a party?" she paused. "Should I be on the lookout for more?"

"Actually, I was asleep. Up there." He gestured with a Thun over his shoulder, indicating one of the lower but reasonably well concealed branches of the next tree over. "Your friend here woke me up with his shouts, and I couldn't leave a damsel in distress to deny his advances by herself."

His expression never changed as he replied, but his tone had lightened in his wariness and he seemed more relaxed, as evidenced by the quip.

"But it isn't my occupation. Not usually. I'm a hunter; self taught, mostly. I'm actually not even usually south of Syth at all; I'm only down here following a particularly large deer. Though he's since eluded me..." The man hadn't taken his eyes off her as she stood, wary still of her intentions. But he stepped forward to assist anyway. "I...Well, I was about to head north again. I won't go through Syth itself, but I could travel with you near there. You're certainly not well enough to travel alone now."

He kept his head bowed, never quite looking her in the eye, even as his walls of wariness dropped. His head dipped a little in a bow.

"Call me Tryn."

Azzara's gaze followed Tryn's direction up to his assumed hiding spot. So it was mostly luck, then. She looked back to the man at the mention of a damsel in distress and felt heat rise to her cheeks. It was embarrassing for her to think of herself in such terms, but he was right. She could usually handle herself, and she strove to be attentive at all times. But she obviously had much more work to do, because she doubted that there would not be a handsome man there to fall from the trees and save her next time.

She was grateful for his assistance in getting her back on her feet and took a few wavering steps forward, towards her sword. While he talked, her pride and common sense were battling over whether or not to accept his offer of help. Thankfully common sense ruled the day.

"I owe you my thanks, indeed." She stooped down to retrieve her sword and, after a quick wipe of the blade with her robes, sheathed it. "You can call my Azzara, or Azza." She offered him a warm smile despite the pain. "I would appreciate the assistance greatly, especially in my current condition. I'd be happy to pay you for your service....if we can return to my camp first, that is."

Tryn had stepped back when Azzara lifted her sword, but he breathed a sigh of relief when she sheathed it. At her offer of recompense, he shook his head.

"There's no need. I'm bound north anyway; having a companion would be...okay."

He smiled, sadly, as if there was some hesitation that he was overcoming. But he beckoned to her, pointing north.

"We ought to put some distance between us and the corpse, however. I don't fancy being here if other predator's decide to take advantage of a free meal. You can't travel long in that condition, so we won't go too far."

Azzara returned the man's smile, but curiosity remained in her mind. Sure she was a strange sight to see so far north, but the man was...just different. Usually people like him were brigands, but that he wouldn't take any gold? Just who, or what, was he?

"Very well then, I'll offer great companionship as a reward." She took a last glance at the Tainted corpse before heading off with Tryn. "Thankfully my camp is on the way, finding our way back shouldn't be difficult at all." She nodded towards the kicked up patches of dirt and plants that snaked through the woods ahead of them. "The abomination was kind enough to make a path for us." She took in a labored breath and found a sturdy branch that could pass for an impromptu cane. "Either way, this seems to be your neck of the north, so I'll leave the leading to you."

He nodded appreciatively and took the lead, staying close enough beside her as they followed the Tainted's path to catch her if she fell. But Azzara seemed to be made of stronger stuff than that, for apart from a brief waver or two, she never faltered in her path

___________________

Tryn twitched, never awakening but constantly muttering. Most was indistinguishable, and only the occasional word was clear. But most often he repeated one word: Azzara.

@Space Cowboy Ein @Effervescent

RZA · Jun 20, 2016

Inara Belanor

“Did you do this?”

Flinching up at the voice in near darkness, Inara watched cautiously as a quad of hooded figures made their way from the treeline. She held a clean cloth in one hand and a gourd canteen in the other. It wasn’t often she was taken off guard, but after the day she endured it surely wasn’t unexpected. Her mind flicked to her weapons but her hands didn’t move. Neither did theirs. Though intimidating dressed as dark as the night, with their faces partially covered and hid even more so behind hoods, each of their tread was one of hesitancy.

Did you do this?

Inara looked around, focusing on the four bodies that laid where the Tainted once did. Their corpses were just as mangled as the rest of them. Pity welled in the bottom of her gut but she shed no tears. They had come and go with the revelation that her riding companion was still alive - hanging by a thread by the looks of it - but breathing nonetheless.

“No,” She said stiffly, “We were attacked by Tainted.”

Inara took in their extensive weaponry, slightly surprised and curious as to why they hadn’t raised them.

“We don’t want any trouble. We can help if you want.”

She nodded her head hesitantly. Inara glanced down at all the supplies she managed to scrounge up in the village and realized that other than cleaning out the wounds and applying salve, she had no clue what she was doing. Looking at the distorted gash on Trynten’s arm, Inara squirmed and had no problem admitting that fact.

“I’d appreciate the help, I… I’m honestly not too sure what I’m doing anyways.” Inara said looking up at the newcomers. “He needs attention immediately.”

Dragongal · Jun 20, 2016

Solana Petyra

Solana opened her eyes quickly upon the news, but it took her a few moments to get a grasping on the present. There were a few seconds where everything she saw was of the aether in some way.Without realizing it, she had focused so much on aetherial presences and the magic around them, that she had forgotten about the physical plane, and needed a few seconds to reorient herself.

By the time her head had cleared, Charlie had already approached Hal and Wynleth. Solana stood up and slowly approached. The seed seemed to glow like the moon to her eye, the magic extremely evident all about it. "Just... just like that? We found it?" This almost seemed too easy. Well... she glanced over at Charlie. Not so easy for everyone involved. But back to the present, they had found the Seed of Life. With this, nobody needed to die from the Sickness anymore. With this she wouldn't have to tell people their family couldn't be healed because they didn't know what caused it or how to fix it. With this, maybe the rift between man and magic could be healed. With this... with this, they were all in great danger now.

Solana looked up to Hal with some urgency. Yes this was a moment for celebration, but they needed to keep moving. Charlie's question rang in her mind. What now? "We have to take it to the World tree now, that's what Shae Pippa said, and she said it would guide us, so...." Solana glanced around a bit, especially to Hal. That's what Shae Pippa had said, wasn't it? What if the Shadow casters could feel that the seed had been awakened? They didn't know where the tree was, so they needed to be quick, while they had an advantage. Unless the Shadows were just letting them get ahead so they'd find the seed, which they had found, and.... Solana had to take a few seconds to calm herself. Maybe things wouldn't go badly now that they had the seed. Maybe things would be... easy.

Elle Joyner · Jun 23, 2016

She had been right there. She had touched it, felt the power emanating from it, seen that power in action. She had spent her entire life believing the Seed was real, believing it was possible to find it. Yet standing there, hearing Hal proclaim that they'd discovered it, she could scarcely trust her heart for her mind that it was actually happening. The tears in her eyes glittered in the firelight, her gaze fixed on that rock, no... on the Seed with a sense of awe so powerful it made her hands quiver. It hadn't been in vain. Her father... Remi and Arun... the Wardens at the Monastery. Their sacrifice had not been for nothing. They had it and they were going to use it to stop the shadow, to restore order in their world.

Drying her eyes with the hem of her cloak, she moved away from the small crowd gathered around the seed and settled on a log beside the fire, staring into the depth of it. In her mind she could hear him, still, his voice strong and tender. They'd sat by the Everflame a few nights before she left the village. He'd been sent by her mother as one final effort to get her to change her mind... but Arun had always been surprising in that he rarely ever did what was expected of him. He'd taken her hand and brushing his thumb across her palm he'd asked her what she would give to have them back again - those they had lost.

Choking on the words, Wyn had exclaimed that there was nothing she wouldn't give, and as the tears fell in helpless rivers, Runey had dried them with a kiss, soft and sweet, to her cheeks and told her that's exactly what he'd said when Oremi asked him what he'd give to keep Wyn safe. The following morning, Arun was gone, off to Rosenfall with no idea Wyn was following. The next time she had seen him, after they had landed at the Monastery, he'd reminded her of that promise, but also of the importance of their quest - that it was more important even, than their lives.

And here it was... the Seed. They finally had it... but they had lost so much to get it. Reaching to her belt where the small, short sword was secured, she unknotted the leather thong and pulled it into her lap, tracing her fingers gently down the blade, "...I promised, Rem. I promised I'd find it... and I did. But... but I can't come home. Not yet. I... I lost him, Rem. I lost Arun... And I need to make it right. I'll make it right."

@Effervescent

Fantasy The Seed of Life: Awakening

Miss Medic

Fracturer of Fairytales

Two Thousand Club

A little dog in big space.

Lord of the Flies

rip dale gribble

Rests Chin In Hands

made up of opposites

Miss Medic

rip dale gribble

Fracturer of Fairytales

Two Thousand Club

Rests Chin In Hands

made up of opposites

Fracturer of Fairytales

Carpe Librum

A little dog in big space.

rip dale gribble

Miss Medic

Rests Chin In Hands

made up of opposites

Two Thousand Club

rip dale gribble

Miss Medic

Fracturer of Fairytales

Users who are viewing this thread

Similar threads