Illusion Vale: A Spirit's Cry

[Wolfsister]

Asterion

An entire month went by as they languished at the small, confining village.
Kat and Rylia had taken up the habit of taking long walks along the beach. There they could discuss matters privately or practice the demoness's skills. The bond between the two of them, though still not completely trustful, became tighter and tighter in those weeks.

Lira shadowed Asterion's every wandering step. Excepting for the mornings, in which she mysteriously vanished for hours at a time, Lira was constantly stuck at the minotaur's side. Her simpering at times gave him pause, but her constant flow of information gleaned on villagers, her knowledge of the land around them and the history of the Vale soon became invaluable and Asterion spent many a night simply listening to her.

Through that time, all five souls got to know each other, if not to the best, at least a little more. Kat's thirst for thrills was never ending, her nights filled with restless sleep as her days filled with exploring alongside the Drider. Lira became, though still clingy, more and more withdrawn. Dark circles appeared under her eyes and when she wasn't around the Minotaur, she was as jumpy as a cat in water.

Hale continued to play host for them, even going so far as to 'liven' up the two hovels they currently occupied (Kat and Rylia in one; Asterion, Lira and Fell in the other) with 'curtains' and 'cushions' and any manner of things picked from the local dressmaker or potter or somesuch.

Fell, of the five of them, didn't appear to change or be affected by its environment. It constantly hovered just inside Asterion's shadow, keeping silent on almost all conversations. It didn't appear to have any inclination to hurry, nor did it indicate that it was in no rush. It simply was.

The day the reptilian smith came bearing weapons and armor to their small communal fireplace (strung between both hovels) was the day it all changed. As Asterion placed a breast plate, greaves, pauldrons, sheild and specially designed helm, there was a change in the air. It was an air of expectancy, of thirst, of blood lust.

Though all Kat, Rylia and Lira all tensed as Asterion was given another large axe to place on a loop on his belt as well as an array of small throwing knives (for extra protection and as a gift from the smith) the air got even tenser.

Kat herself recieved similar armor, though it was more scaled so as to fit her body type better. A simple breast plate with gauntlets and greaves. There was no helm for her. She was also given a very simple sword, delicately made but surprisingly strong. The blade was approximately three feet long and double edged.

Rylia herself was given a new, better bow, made by the local 'weapons master'. The tired old man was really just a hunter, but the bow was still made well. It was a sturdy shortbow with a full quiver of iron tipped arrows. The Drider made no comment when recieving them.

Lira, of course, got nothing but a curt nod from the reptilian smith. Her dark eyes simply glared balefully back at him.

Once the smith had gone on his way back across the village, Kat sat still, playing with a small ball of fire gleaned from the flames they sat around, making it dance on top of her upturned palm. "What now?" She murmured softly, not bothering to look towards the minotaur, though it was clear it was to him she spoke.

 

[rengadeirishman]

Michael approached apprehensively. He swallowed and moved closer.

"I am Michael O'Donnell, who is called the Wolf-Knight. I have come for Saeriel, so I may have armor that shifts as I do, in order to save the whole of the Vale." He said, his voice showing a confidence he did not feel.

"I desire none of your gold or silver, only the Saeriel. Will you help me noble dragon?"

 

[wolfknight20]

Vary well Eric but before i take off mind telling me how i land once i do i don't want to to hit any more sand dunes less its on purpose

As Eric explained silver listened and when he had finished silver decided to try

this time he wasn't shocked to find him self in the air and he decided he could defiantly get used to this place if only for being able to fly

as he flew Eric gave him advice on things and corrected him when he was doing things wrong silver was careful and tried to do his fire and ice breathe and by the time they saw varic coming back he could do both with a small amount of control

they glided down and landed a little way from him so as not to bother him with the back draft of silvers wings as he landed

 

[Wolfsister]

Jay and Coudron

As the Night Stalker advanced towards them, taking its leisurely time, the Guardian's Guides all acted at once. Their first priority was to protect their respective - indeed all of - guardians. They were determined to deflect as much of the potential danger away from the Guardians so that they could concentrate on taking down the monster that screamed at them again.

As one, the Guides flowed into a line that formed just in front of the charging Guardians. Kail and Mia both uttered strange ululating cries that were either not of this world, or of a different language. Most likely the latter, but in this fight, it would not really have made a difference. Kail suddenly grew almost too bright for anyone to directly look at him. He shone, for an instant, white hot, before a pulse seemed to shake his floating 'body'. A missile of white hot magic streamed from the wisp.

At almost the same instant, Mia shot a jet of water towards the Night Stalker. Unlike Kail's missile, hers was still attached to her outstretched hands, pulsing in time with her heart beat. She was giving her Life Waters for this effort.

Coudron skidded to a halt and saw the efforts of his companions. He knew that it was all a gamble. All the Guides could do was slow it down, if they could even do that. They could no more hurt it than a fly could hurt a tree. But at least they could irritate it enough to give the Guardians some openings through its formidable guard. Coudron planted his feet deep into the grown and welled up the forces inside him.

As he did not have a Magi to contend with, as the other guides did not either, he could tap into all of his magical supply and abilities at once. This was both an advantage and a disadvantage. He pulled from the deep recesses of the Earth magic from within him and asked the Vale to help with his endeavor. In answer, the world around his feet cracked as chunks of solid rock rose from the ground. Next, he called his Fire Spirit and set the earthen rocks to burning. This was paricularily difficult as Earth didn't really burn, but he coated rocks with the flame, nonetheless. Grunting with the effort, he threw the rock bombs towards the Night Stalker.

Brand had taken a small crossbow from inside his armor. He assembled it with eased practice and produced a bevy of iron bolts. These he loaded into the crossbow in quick succession and fired the bolts into any vulnerable parts he could see on the Night Stalker.

Jay's attempt to swing around and essentially body slam himself onto the Stalker's tail backfired. The horse did actually land, pretty heavily, onto the monster's tail, luckily missing most of the deadly spikes that ran the length of the appendage. However, one spike did end up piercing the horse's right foreleg. Then the Stalker noticed the Guardian stuck to its tale. With an almost delighted grin of that strangely voidal mouth as it flung its tail casually towards the air, as if to dislodge the horse stuck to it. It didn't wait to see if Jay had been flung off before it turned to deal with the other attacks.

Opening its mouth wide, it simply swallowed Kail's missile of light energy. Reaching up with one bony, webbed hand, it threw up a short, invisible sheild to protect itself against getting wet from Mia's attack. Then it began to punch its way through Coudron's some fifteen rock bombs.

Brand's iron bolts were simply ignored as they bounced harmlessly off its purple tinged leathery skin.

Grinning again, it took another slow step towards them and tormented their ears once more with another night splitting scream.

 

[Jedi_Khan]

Elmhand vs. The Night Stalker

Elmhand barely registered the strange voice in his head that said something about transforming and being a Zippo. He did however take note of the call to fight issued by Brand, the guardsman. Even as the call faded from Brand’s lips, Elmhand was reaching down, digging his fingers into the earth, pulling up large boulders that were reinforced with roots.

As Elmhand was about to heave the first boulder at the Night Stalker, a second cry from that strange voice in his head caused him to pause, at the same time seeing the horse stomp down on the tail of the Night Stalker. Elmhand decided he’d ask questions later. Elmhand then reared back and let fly with the boulder, while in the same motion digging in once again to pull up yet another boulder.

Elmhand just barely noted that the horse was flung away by the Night Stalker just before the attacks of the guides arrived to distract the creature. In the mean time, the first boulder Elmhand threw was still in flight, with a second just leaving Elmhand’s hand. After the third boulder was set loose, Elmhand moved to flank the Night Stalker, and also to find ground that hadn’t been torn up and used for ammo yet. There he stopped, this time on the creature’s left, and began the process again; reach, dig, lift, hurl, repeat. He only hoped that the Night Stalker wouldn’t be able to punch through the boulders like it had with the ones hurled by the walking rock.

 

[MilkManDan007]

A Follower's Favor

The steel and leather seemed to snug to his body like a second skin. None of the finely crafted pieces seemed to weigh him down, another benefit from the unnatural strength of this place. A second axe, slightly smaller and lighter than the great black weapon he had been gifted by the shadowy form in the mirror, hung around a loop that hung securely from his belt. The shield was fitted with adjusting straps, stretching longer to allow it to be carried on the back during travel over his large axe and shorter for combat. The knives, even though he had no skill in throwing them yet, seemed balanced on his fingers as he tucked them away.

But it was the helm that intrigued him the most. It was unlike any helmet he had seen before. Notches in the back of the helm allowed him to slip it on without having to reach to the top of his horns. Flaps, held in place with small pin hinges, closed over the openings once it was in place, covering the vulnerable areas at the back of his head. A long, flat protrusion at the front swept down his snout, covering it from base to tip, and two longer guards covered his cheeks and neck. It was a snug fit, but felt almost natural as his fur began to mat down under the steel; another layer of padding still.

He inhaled deeply, drawing in the deepest breath he could muster, testing the strapping of the armor and bending to see if it bound him anywhere. A smile crept across his face as he found no sharp edges, no broken straps, no metal binding under itself.

“You are quite the craftsman, Daric,” he said to the smith before he paid him what he was due. He saw the dark looks that he and Lira exchanged with one another as he left. There was a history there, a past that was no doubt filled with loathsome experiences. Kat spoke softly, her words almost inaudible over the light breeze.

“What now?” she said, the fire highlighting her face in the dimming light. It seemed such an innocent question, but the answer would be a vengeful and bloody one.

“Tonight, we rest. And then tomorrow,” Asterion said, a wide grin slowly etching itself on his face, “tomorrow at dusk, when they are all sitting down to their evening meals, we do what we all do best.”

He turned from her and moved into the darkness behind the hovels, staying to the shadows as he moved. He could feel the dark presence behind him, his ever-present shadow. He turned and looked into the darkness, crouched, and spoke in low, measured tones.

“Fell, I need a favor. There is something about Lira isn’t doesn’t sit right with me and I’m not sure if we can still trust her. I need you to follow her, find out where she is going in the mornings and who she is talking to. I don’t think I need to tell you what to do if she’s going to betray us.”

 

[Wolfsister]

Michael and Sila

"I am Michael O'Donnell, who is called the Wolf-Knight. I have come for Saeriel, so I may have armor that shifts as I do, in order to save the whole of the Vale. I desire none of your gold or silver, only the Saeriel. Will you help me noble dragon?"

Great golden eyes stared at their little party, lids slowly closing briefly, a Dragon's sleepy blink. "Who knows the desires of men and mortals? Do you really know what it is that lies in your heart?"

The great golden dragon's eyes opened once more to fix them with a regarding glare. Their torchlight glinted on its golden scales, bringing the flecks of light to the fore in its ancient eyes. The mound of treasure it lay upon shifted as it moved its massive bulk, easing itsef more onto its metal and crystaline bed.

"Are you truly the one I have been sleeping for? Man, beast, mortal... I do know know.." the great beast seemed to sigh, its tone almost sad in an indefinable way. "Alas... there is not much time."

It fixed its eyes towards the party of dwarves, fairy and werewolf. "The world comes to an end. As do all worlds as another world forms and begins. Do you have the strength, truly, to survive the rebirthing?"

The Dragon shook his massive head, his enormous snout dislodging bits of shining metals and colourful stones, "Forgive this old soul. I've forgotten why you are here..."

The Dragon took some time to ponder a moment, before shifting again and continuing in his deep, mountainous rumble, "Tell me, man, beast, mortal. I will give you what you most seek if you answer this question: Are your heart and soul pure?"

 

[Wolfsister]

Silverfang and Eric

Eric instructed the giant, ungainly four legged bird as he took his first hesitant steps at truly learning how to fly. At times, the young bird was frustrated beyond speaking, but he had only to remember that Silverfang was not a creature originally from the air. And that even though he was a bird, Eric had also had to learn how to fly at an early age. He tried to dredge up memories of his mother as she taught him to catch the wind with his wings and let the draft guide him through the air. Never fight the current, never try to control the current and the wind would always be your friend and lift you up high.

A life saving lesson.

Varic returned much later, building up a fire and busying himself with the slaughtering and skinning of the small four legged creature he had managed to hunt down on the dry plain. Sand drifted along the ground, interfering with the meat and placing grit onto the bloodied muscle.

Varic muttered a few words and the wind died down. It would seem that he had controlled the elements, but rather he had just enclosed them in a small square, the sides which were invisible effectively cut off the irritating wind. To Varic and Eric, this was a simple skill for the Elf to administer, but perhaps Silverfang would be a lot less non-chalant about it.

Throwing steaks onto separate coals, Varic finally looked up to Silver, "So how was your training?"

 

[wolfknight20]

Silver looked to Eric for he answered varic saying that he thought it had gone well but seeing as he was the student and Eric the teacher it was more what Eric thought than his self

silver sees that the sand is moving yet he feels no wind so he ask if he should be worried or not

 

[Wolfsister]

Largos and Len

Len was lead quietly away from her vampiric friend, people murmuring just as much about her as they were about him. Her state of attire should have been the reason, as Avians were quite common in the Vale, although she had a feeling that it was really about her companions. After all, she had ridden in with an armed escort, a vampire and a fallen felinoid. Which promptly reminded her about Fara. She was worried about the woman, she had sustained some nasty wounds from being beaten around by the Slavers and she only hoped that the felinoid would be okay.

Sighing, she allowed herself to be led towards a smaller hut adjoined to the long house on the left. Inside, it was clear that females occupied this space. There were bolts of cloth strewn, carefully, on floors, beds and tables. Weaving equipment was evident, along with sewing equipment and the like. Evidently, she was in a clothier's hut.

Women surrounded her, curious people poking her in the ribs or playing with her hair. She endured it all with the aplomb of a fat man at a feast. "Get off me!" she almost snarled as one particular girl got curious enough to want to snip off a locket of her black hair. She young girl jumped back in startlement and blushed quickly before making herself disappear from the irate Avian's side.

While women bustled around, measuring her up and trying to find suitable clothing for her, Len decided to stand, testing her new legs. Walking to Avonel had been a trial unto its own, but with Largos's silent help, she had been able to get here. Now she silently tested her wings. They still felt the same, and moved the same. She was used to the blackness of her wings, as well as the spattering of white feathers she found as she inspected them.

They flared up and out, flapping slightly, proving to be a distraction to those others around her. She smiled. For some reason, she felt a need to annoy these women. Women that were far too nosy for their own good.

After figuring out how her various limbs moved, she was asked to get dressed in the clothes provided. She blinked, seeing the spread of clothes she could choose from. She had never actually realised the complexity of two legged clothing. Not actually having to cover herself had been an advantage when she was a Raven. But now, she supposed, it was a new time, a new world for her.

She hesitated, looking askance as she picked up a white tunic. The other women beamed appreciatively and she knew she had made a good choice. She already knew how to put on a shirt, so putting this on was a piece of cake. Well, not before the women showed her a sort of leather brace that captured her breasts and prevented them from moving around so freely. She silently approved of this contraption, at least it stopped her breasts from bouncing all over the place. Nuisance things.

Selecting another white hose, the women approving once again, she belted it underneath her tunic. Using a black sash, she tied the tunic at her waist, making the bottom flare like a short skirt over her tight pants. The women then provided her with shoes, which she refused. Clothing was a far enough step for her. She didn’t' want to have to get used to foot wear as well.

Stepping from the small hut, blinking into the light, she looked around at the blue sky above. It was morning and she hadn't even realised it. While dressing, the women had also provided her with baubles and beads and pendents and bracelets for her to wear. Naturally, she had loved them.

Especially the shiny ones.

On each of her wrists, she wore three silver rings. Golden beads dangled from her left wrist, while red beads dangled from her right. A long string of white faux pearls adorned her neck. While they looked like the precious jewels, upon closer look, one would see that they were just coloured white stones. The arch of her wings were also similarly bedecked. Small coloured glass beads hung from small holes that had been punctured into her winds earlier. Though they bled slightly and stung in the breeze, Len was silently proud of her shiny baubles.

Her ankles were also laced in brightly coloured beads. Her simply white tunic with black sash off setting the many coloured trinkets. Her hair was also strung with red, yellow and orange beads. She shook her head experimentally and was pleased with the slight clack clack of the beads knocking together.

Smiling in thanks, having warmed to the inquisitive women since getting her beads, she was led towards the longhouse where Fara was being seen to. As she walked, making her steps careful so as not to confuse her brain any further as to which should go first, she tried to get a glimpse of Largos. Knowing the pain he went through when he changed back to an elf, she was worried about him.

But when she asked where he was, the women simply shook their heads and kept leading her towards the longhouse. Len went with them, silently worrying about her charge. When she got to Fara's bedside however (a section of the long house had been divided off for a nursing area) she found Largos the Elf sitting beside the sleeping felinoid. She smiled at him, grinning actually, as she showed off her new attire and made all her beads jangle together.

Looking down at the felinoid, she was told that Fara would be fine, that she would just need some rest and she would be okay. Smiling vaguely, Len murmured that she was glad. Something shiny had momentarily distracted her, it was a silver nail that had been caught in a stream of sunlight. It glinted in her eyes and she found herself unable to take her attention away from it when all of a sudden a commotion outside, as well as the sound of running feet turned her head away from the glinting object in the wall.

"Malakiel! You have to come quick, someone's approaching and they're kicking up a lot of dust." The young messenger’s eyes went wide, "I think its a warhost!"

Malakiel frowned, looking to Largos and Len. "You'd better come with me." He wanted to keep an eye on them both. He knew that Len would be fine, but he wasn't sure about leaving Largos without supervision. He knew he had given him permission to defend himself, however, he never wanted that situation to come up in the first place.

Striding out of the longhouse, the Pechanian marched, with a few followers and Largos and Len, to edge of Avonel. There he waited patiently for the 'war host' to arrive on his doorstep. He was so silent and calm that soon the curious buzz of his followers died down and they too waited silently for what came.

When Malakiel recognised the banner that flew in front of the host, his eyes widened. Barking out orders, he dispatched some of his men to make ready for visitors. Food and lodging were to be found for around 200 men. He was estimating, but his eyes, though old, where not easily fooled.

Indeed, when the 150 strong Blue Guard halted before him, Malakiel smiled. Stepping forwards, he clasped hands with the captain who had dismounted, a mark of respect towards him. The captain was also a Pechanian and bore a marked resemblance to Malakiel. Indeed, when the man turned to introduce the new comer to Largos and Len, he was introduced as Menos, Malakiel's younger brother.

Len smiled politely, not knowing how to greet with her hands. She resisted the urge to squawk at him, realising how ridiculous that would have sounded coming from her now, in this body. She waited for Largos to greet the man before doing anything else.

After the introductions, Malakiel turned back to his brother and his face became serious once more. "Are you here to help?"

Menos nodded grimly, "We came as soon as we could. We have marched from Vale City upon the orders of Malas, Beloved. We will strike down this foe decisively and be victorious!" he bellowed out so that his men also heard him. There was a deafening roar as his men pounded on their blue shields and yelled battle cries fiercely. Menos nodded and then in a lower voice, "My men need rest before tonight and food and merriment. Some may not see the morrow."

Then he walked on, giving his horse to a page boy that had stood by his side. The young boy was pale with over hearing what he did. "Tell me, brother, how has it been?"

Menos did not ask about Largos and Len. To his eyes, they were just an Elf and an Avian that Malakiel seemed to trust.

 

[Wolfsister]

Eeth/Van/Rolyn/Varinos

GOD MODE: with permission​

Rolyn began to attack, his arm raised high in a classic high blow with his blade coming down onto Eeth's head. Eeth's eyes grew wide as he successfully dodged the somewhat clumsy blow. He searched around for a weapons and realised that he had dodged to just out of reach of where he had lay them before. He reached for them, stretching out and keeping an eye out for Rolyn, but Rolyn didn’t allow him the time to get to his weapons, attacking again. This time he allowed some of his own magic to come to the fore and the blade was suddenly aflame. Instead of trying to cut into Eeth, he flicked his blade towards the Guardian. Fire from the flaming sword spat, flying towards Eeth.

Blinking, not having time to dodge, instinct kicked in and Eeth threw up his hands, as if to ward off the fire that roared towards him. Fully expecting to feel the flame's fury, Eeth's eyes cautiously opened when nothing came. The young elf's eyes widened when he saw what was before him. A white, opaque shield hung in mid air before him. Flame's licked at the edge but he remained unhurt. The shield too, although he could not see past it, remained hanging there.

"I'll make you a deal. I'll keep you alive, as long as you promise not to be such an idiot." came his magi's arrogant tone. It had been rather hard for him to breath Eeth's control, but he had felt that he needed too. If only to teach the imbecile a lesson. "This is how it works, you tell me what you want and I'll do it. Ask me to do something I can't do, and you're in trouble." Of course, the magi didn't bother telling Eeth what his limits actually were.

Rolyn smiled, it had gone swimmingly. Now, for some more training. He slid up to the shield, knowing Eeth could not see beyond it, using his flames to hide himself as well as he slid himself around the shield and when for a direct slash at Eeth's ribs.

Again, instinct reared its head and Eeth found himself wanting a sword. Instantly, a blaze of white extended from his hand and shaped itself into a shining, white sword. Instinctively, Eeth pulled it up just in time to meet Rolyn's blade. Rolyn nodded his head and then went in for another slashing attack, this time swinging around and bring his force to bear onto Eeth's right shoulder.

Eeth dodged, surprisingly easily enough, and brought his own sword down onto Eeth's arm. Eeth screamed in shocking pain as the white blade connected with his wrist. White hot, searing pain travelled up his arm and he found himself clutching his wrist. He looked and there was no visible sign of a wound, though it hurt like hell.

Eeth's blade disappeared, "I can only sustain it for a time." He had a mental image of his magi shrugging.

Suddenly Variet sprinted into view. "Rolyn! The queen has ordered a decree for your head!" Every body looked up. Van mewed slightly, whining. "You have to get out of here!"

Rolyn shared a look with the Neko and then nodded in silent agreement. "Eeth, I cannot teach you more. I'm sorry, but its time." He walked over to Variet and calmly placed a hand on his shoulder, "We wait. It has come."

There would be no more running. No more hiding.

As Varinos, the captain of the Royal Guard, came into view, Rolyn folded his arms across his chest, his voice ringing out in the dark cavern, "I call a challenge, by right the Sacred Hearts that adorn the name NightWing. I name my champion, Eeth Odok!"

 

[Wolfsister]

Elmhand/Becca and the NightStalker

Becca God Modded with permission​

The NightStalker's voidal mouth opened yet again in a defiant, angry scream as it hunched itself forwards. Its purple tinged skin pulled taught around its features, its eyeless sockets staring at them in a nightmarish challenge.

Elmhand's flung earth was by now reaching the Nightstalker. The first was ignored as it wasn't a magical attack. Slamming into the thigh of the Stalker, it managed to rock it off balance for the barest of seconds. Only now did the Stalker consider the walking tree a threat.

It snarled towards the Ent, a screaming, death cry that shook the earth. Reaching out a hand, it deftly caught the second mound of earth in a scooping motion, the webbing on its appendages proving to be rather handy, and swung it towards the now moving Ent.

Becca, seeing that the Stalker's attention was caught on her Tree companion, decided to act. She had no idea what was going to happen, but soon her hands flung up and her eyes flashed sea green. Her hair writhed in the wind that picked up at that moment as movement travelled through the grass towards the Stalker.

Vines crept along the ground, roots and grass lengthened and became stronger as they crawled up, unnoticed, the Stalker's spindly legs. They clamped around the greyish purple body and soon had rooted him to the spot. For now, the Stalker was immobile.

Brand continued to seek a soft, vulnerable part of the Stalker's body with his crossbow, though he knew it was a lost cause and that the Guardians were the only ones that could defeat this monster, he stubbornly clung onto the belief that he could, at least, help. Images of the little girl dying on that bed flashed through his mind and he growled, his jaws gritted, his teeth grinding together.

Coudron, the boulders having been smashed away, continued the onslaught. This time with fiery blasts that seared the earth beneath it. Mia was drenched, her attack having been forced back on her. She coughed and spluttered, taking some time to recover. It had been a powerful attack. Kail's light had dimmed dramatically, but he still pulsed with a bright blue, almost white, light. Another of his light missiles shot out of his being a few seconds later.

 

[Wolfsister]

Asterion/Fell/Lira/Kat/Rylia

“Fell, I need a favor. There is something about Lira isn’t doesn’t sit right with me and I’m not sure if we can still trust her. I need you to follow her, find out where she is going in the mornings and who she is talking to. I don’t think I need to tell you what to do if she’s going to betray us.”

Fell did not acknowledge, but there was a noticeable chill that accompanied Asterion's request. The minotaur would realise that it was the Shadow Wraith's way of acknowledging the request and that it would be done. The Shadow Wraith rose in the darkness, Its eyes glowing as they always did when It was in this form. Sliding along in the darkness, It went on its way to attach itself to Lira's shadow. Asterion would have to be happy about that.

The rest of the night passed without incident. Except for a brief visit from Hale, to see if they had gotten their equipment from Daric yet and to exclaim at the craftsmanship of the pieces. He was soon, though not soon enough, out of their hair.

As always, when it was time to retire, Rylia and Kat moved off to Lira's old hovel. It was a sort of home for them both and they found themselves discussing the next day. The demoness felt the reserve that emanated from the Drider, though it was carefully manufactured, the demoness did not realise that Rylia was playing her for the fool.

Lira hung onto Asterion before the minotaur decided to bed down himself. She did not join him in bed, though they often kept each other company at night, both felt that tonight was not the right time. Asterion seemed to be distracted with thoughts of the morrow and contemplating Lira's possible betrayal. Lira herself, stroking her belly in the candle light, facing away from the Minotaur, was more focused on how to avoid getting herself killed the next day.

After all, the son could not be born without the mother.

The next day rose appropriately gloomy. A storm was on its way, rain could be smelt on the air and the ocean was as agitated as Fisher's Village had ever seen it. It was decided that hauling today would be too dangerous and so the entire village stayed in doors, muttering at the darkened sky.

Lira slipped out earlier than usual. Mostly to hide as well as to attend to her morning sickness. She was sure that the minotaur wasn't aware yet at her pregnancy and she was sure that she didn't want him to know if it yet. She had to get so much closer to him, so much more secure with his moods and intentions towards her. She needed to protect this baby. With a father that could strangle the life out of his mother with one meaty hand, Lira couldn't be too careful when revealing her pregnancy to Asterion.

She felt a faint chill go down her back, but dismissed it as the weather. The sense of foreboding both excited and scared her. She slipped along the outer edge of the village, coming to her private little space. It was a small corpse of trees that grew just beyond the sand dunes. Well away from the village.

There she concocted her special tea, rocking back on her heels to sip at it. Her stomach heaved and she fought to keep its contents. The Tea would help with the birth, when it came, make it easier for her. She knew that it wouldn't do if she threw it all up though. Already, she felt the drain of having walked this far. Her hair was slick was sweat, her hands cold and clammy. She pursed her lips and sat down to drink the entire pot of tea, her complexion soon coming back to normal.

In that time, she absently rubbed her stomach, talking softly to the baby inside of her. She talked of her plans, of their plans. She talked of his father, the terrible majesty the brute brought to bear. She talked of the coming slaughter, talked of how she would remain here in her hideout until the village had what was coming to them. Since her birth, she had been hated and outcast. Simply because of her heritage. She could not help it any more than she could help her son's father being a cold blooded murdering brute.

She sighed. Talking quietly to her little one, stroking her still flat stomach, she didn't notice the shadows around her get suddenly darker, the chill up her spine disappearing as Fell took itself quietly away from the chattering halfling.

It had some interesting things to tell Asterion.

 

[Wolfsister]

Silverfang

Varic raised an eyebrow, silently wondering what Silver was talking about. Then he belatedly remembered his use of magic. "Oh, don’t' worry about that. I just used some magic to stop the wind blowing so hard onto the meat. I hate eating sand," he grinned.

"Your magic works differently from mine. I have a Magi that controls my magical essence, where as you seem to just be a magical being as it is."

Eric nodded, squawking slightly as he picked at the raw bit of meat he had been given before it had gone onto the fire. "True, true. And you didn't do too badly at the flyng, Silver. You're doing well for a first timer," the bird gave an impression that he was grinning.

"Well," said Varic, "the meat's done." He threw a hunk of steaming flesh towards Silver, "Enjoy my friend." Then he promptly tore into his own dinner.

 

[rengadeirishman]

Michael approached the dragon.

"How can a man know if his heart is pure? To even say your heart is pure is hubris, and hubris is itself a stain on the heart."

 

[wolfknight20]

Silver caught the hunk mid air and set it down on his paws for thanking varic for it and Eric for the complement

the talk of Magi and magic had silver intrigued so between eating he asked about the differences tween the two types of working magic and explained that knowing might help him understand how to better control his gifts and to see what others he had and their limits

 

[Wolfsister]

Michael and the Dragon

The dragon took a long good look at the werewolf in front of him. The golden beast was silent for a while. And then a small rumble began at the back of his throat until his jaws opened wide and he roared with laughter, smog rising from deep within his throat.

"You are amusing, mortal. Very amusing. Smart too. The massive golden head nodded, "Your companion is injured," his eye rolled towards the battered and bloodied Sila, "Yet you ask for your desire before you ask for assistance for her?

The dragon shook his head, "No, mortal, you are not pure. But at least you're honest about it. Tell me... how many have you killed? And not in this world, but the other. Yours."

The Dragon paused, ruminating, "Was it worth it, mortal?"

 

[rengadeirishman]

Michael kept his gaze on the dragon.

"I killed 27 men, and a bit of myself with each of them." Michael answered, his voice and gaze never wavering.

 

[MilkManDan007]

The Morning of that Fateful Day

The day was dreary, and a pall of an impending storm hung in the air. It was almost as if the land knew what was to come this day, already preparing to wash the blood from the streets and cleanse the small village of any signs of the approaching slaughter. The familiar warmth of the morning sun was absent, and the calm lapping of the waters on the shore had been replaced with the churning and crashing of the sea hurling itself upon the rocky outcroppings.

As he rose, he saw that Lira was again gone, vanished from his sight. His suspicions of her possible betrayal only grew more intense as the morning minutes ticked away. She knew what they were planning, she knew what was to come, and yet she had left him. Perhaps it was to alert the town elders, raise the guard and stop their plans, or perhaps it was merely to hide, to protect her own skin. In the last few weeks, she had clung to him, moving with him wherever he roamed. She had stayed by his side, or behind him, throughout his time here. He had come to the understanding that she relied on him for protection, yet in this time where she would need his protection most, she had abandoned him. His mind continued to churn and solidify on the only possible reason for her absence: betrayal.

He grumbled to himself, further setting in his mind her desertion, as he began to dress in the armor that he knew would come to be his second skin after he left this place and began his journey to find this Spirit Fell had told him of. He did not don his helm, and kept his shield strapped to his back as he made his way out of the hovel. He moved quietly behind the small building to where he had spoken with Fell the night before. His eyes scanned the muted shadows of the morning, the cloud cover diffusing the light and keeping the dark recesses where Fell could hide to a minimum. But there was one particular area under the cover of a large bush, a blackness that could only be the dark presence that had shadowed him since he arrived in this place.

“What did you find out about our little deserter, Fell?” he said into the darkness.

 

[Wolfsister]

Silverfang

"Well," started off Varic, "The main difference is this. Some people have a magical source, that magical source can only access through a series of locks and gates within the mind and soul. These gates are represented by beings in our minds called Magi. They are the guardians, the keepers of our magical body, if you like. The other type are magical beings. These beings have magic, they are magic. They don't need a magi as they have a magical existence anyway and would not survive if they had limits placed on them such as we do."

Varic flicked a hand and the fire between shot into the air, settling down again few minutes later, "I have a magi with whom I've trained and gotten to know over the years. While they are just like us... we are not like them. They know our limits, they know our potential. But sometimes they don't tell us what they know."

"Magical beings, however, have an innate sense of what they can do already. Though they can still train and surpries themselves with their abilities, its more likely that they run mostly on instinct at first. A magi can have limitless power, however magical beings have to be very careful with their magical energies. After all, without it, they ultimately die."

 

[Wolfsister]

Michael/Sila

"I killed 27 men, and a bit of myself with each of them."


The great golden Dragon took his time to digest this information. His large yellow eyes blinked slowly, drinking in Michael's answer like the earth drinks in the morning sun. Then slowly, ever so slowly, the Dragon shook his head.

"I remind you of your error and still you do not ask for aid for your companion?" disappointment rang to the vaunted ceiling of the cavern, his deep bestial voice echoing along the stone walls. "Perhaps I should not grant your wish, mortal..."

Large golden eyes suddenly shifted from the werewolf to the small fairy at his side. "Come, come, little one. Come closer, I shall aid you, though your lover does not think you need it"

Sila's eyes went wide, her mouth hung slack as she looked first at Mike and then at the dragon. Her eyes welled with tears, "He does care for me!" she shouted, her tiny defiant voice bouncing off the dragon's golden scales. Her wings fluttered feebly, unable to move through the air as they were ripped, seemingly, beyond repair. Tears streaked down her dirty face, old wounds covered in scabs of blood.

"Come, come little one. I will make you better. And then we can sort out the mortal," the dragon's voice had become fatherly, kind and gentle.

Sila's lips pouted, further than the natural swelling she had, and she took a hesitant step forwards. The dragon suddenly shifted, finally coming to its knees, hind quarters shifting beneath his bulk. His front claws stretched out slowly, "In here, little one."

Sila glanced back at Mike, her eyes stinging with tears. Then she stepped forwards and was clutched gently within the dragon's claws. He reared up, majestically, and held her to his breast. The beating of his draconic heart pounded in her head from its closeness and she closed her eyes the same time he did.

A golden, green glow gently infused the cavern space, the epicenter being where Sila was pressed against the precious chest of the enormous and old golden dragon. It was some time before the glow receeded, some time before Time itself began to run normally again.

The Dragon opened his claws and nestled inside was Sila. She was curled up within his palm, her wings miraculously healed and whole, her face cleared, the blood swept away. When she looked down at Mike, she smiled with the smile of one that was healthy and hearty.

Flying down of her own accord, she fluttered to Michael's side. "He's a good man," she whispered to the Dragon, "Please, go easy on him?" There was a twinkle in her eye, mirrored in the Dragon's eyes as well. A dragon's healing heart was to give himself over to the sick, to the injured and she had consumed him as much as he had consumed her pain and hurt.

Settling down, his snout smoking slightly, he suddenly frowned, "That was two mistakes, mortal. A more loving and gentle creature to stand by your side will never be found. Remember your promise to the Queen... it seems you may have forgotten it."

"One more mistake mortal, it just takes one and I will leave you to wander in these caverns for beyond time."

Then he seemed to soften, "Your heart yearns, mortal. I can feel it. Pray for the souls of those you have taken. And pray for the souls you will take in the future. Now... just what do you intend to do with the Saeriel?

 

[Wolfsister]

Asterion/Fell

“What did you find out about our little deserter, Fell?”

Fell materialised out of the deepest shadow It could have found. It knew the value of being hidden at a time like this and It knew that Asterion needed this information on the quiet. Hissing, as usual, It gave its report. "Weess iss withs childsss..."

The Shadow Wraith then explained, word for word, what Lira had been telling her stomach. It was niether pleased nor disappointed at the new development. It had simply been dispatched to find information, and information It had found.

"Wees can takes usss to herss...." It hissed in a low tone. "Wees can shows us wheress she isss..." To Fell, Asterion and Itself were mere extensions of the same purpose and intent, It had trouble distinquishing between Asterion and itself, so communication was sometimes limited.

 

[rengadeirishman]

He had been made a fool of, although he deserved it, but how was he to know he would encounter a dragon? All the stories of dragons in his old life said they were evil and vicious. How could he know that the dragon would help her?

It doesnt matter, i should have done differently.

"I will use the Saeriel to craft armor, ancient one. I was told that the saeriel could be enchanted to change its shape with my body, from dwarf to lycan. This armor will aid me in my quest to save this land."

 

[Wolfsister]

Michael/Sila/Ren/Dragon

The scaly muscle above the dragon's left eye twitched. The equivalent of a person arching their eyebrow. "And why exactly do you wish to save this land?" The dragon, then, without a word, beckoned towards Renvir, the only other dwarf in the room, Takkin having been left behind with the Bassa.

Ren blinked, shifted the haft of his axe in the loop at his belt, gave a look towards Sila and then bravely stepped up into the Dragon's outstretched paws. A green, golden glow infused the cavern once again, though this time it was for a much shorter period of time.

As Sila had, Renvir stepped from the dragon's claws fully healed. His earlier fight with the Slither wiped from his body's memories. Though he would have been proud at the scars, he felt much better not having to go through the pain of getting them. He grunted his thanks and hurried back to Michael's side.

The dragon did not stretch his claws to the wounded werewolf. It was clear that he would not offer such assistance to the mortal.

It was also clear that the Dragon was in no hurry to aid in their quest.

 

[wolfknight20]

Whoa I'm glad I asked bout this before we got to some where that I had to use my gifts for more than just practice so how much farther do you think before we reach the city