Scattered Embers: Flames Rekindled (story)

[dragon wench]

Bird song --fluted warbles, impatient chirrups-- echoed through the trees and clearing. Sunlight flickered through the green canopy above. For a moment, all seemed normal, the battle with the orcs nothing more foreboding or ominous than a particularly unpleasant nightmare. Tashara desperately wanted to believe it had, in fact, been a dream from which she had just awoken. However, her repaired armor resting nearby, and the somewhat grim set to Pharis' expression confirmed otherwise.

Upon closing her eyes, bloodied images of orcs swam before her. Tashara shuddered, grimacing in disgust at her recollection of the orcish leader that had very nearly ended her life.

Somewhere just beyond a small copse of trees, water gurgled, the thought of cleaning up was especially appealing all of a sudden.

Not much in the mood for conversation just then, Tashara simply gestured over to the gurgle, indicating to Pharis her plans.

Once Tashara was on her feet, Kael also rose up, shrugging off his resemblance to pillows and bedding. She looked into the intelligent, amber eyes; they reflected both worry and sadness. She bowed her head, comprehending that several of the pack had fallen while fighting by her side. Unsure the wolf would understand, Tashara knelt down, and murmured.. "I'm so very sorry." Kael whined, and gently placed a paw on her shoulder.

She held the gaze a moment longer. Then she stood back up and made her way to the creek.

A cry of delighted surprise escaped her for this was no simple, bubbling spring. A deep, emerald green pool surrounded by luxuriant moss and delicate fern fronds greeted her eyes. Not hesitating, she tossed off the crimson gown and stepped into crystalline water. It was cold, but not uncomfortably so. The cool chill was just enough to cleanse and invigorate. Tashara swam out into the sunshine and let herself float. The remaining dried orc blood came away, as did the grime and sweat from the last several days; she smiled in gratitude, and felt some return to the more tranquil state she had become accustomed to whilst living with the elves.

One side of the pool offered a sandy bank, and several saponin producing plants grew alongside it.

Swimming in lazy strokes Tashara made her way to them, and selected various leaves and barks. She dug a makeshift bowl in the sand, and crushed them together with a stone and a small amount of water. Lather soon appeared.

Once more, Tashara plunged into the water, this time ducking her head under and diving exultantly to the bottom. Small fish darted from her path and swam into the trail of bubbles in her wake.
Glancing upwards, she noted the slant of the sun's rays. Some time had passed since she had first entered the pool. Reluctant, Tashara swam back towards the emerald light, and, once she had surfaced, towards her clothes.

Grabbing the soft material, she noted in appreciation that it had been cleaned; her armor had been repaired with considerable skill as well. Evidently Pharis had been busy.

It was a relief to pull on her own clothing, and most especially to equip her armor and sword, they held much significance and were her most valued possessions.

[dragon wench]

Just before reaching the wolf and his human companion, Tashara paused behind several trees, silently observing. Pharis had an easy self-confidence to him and appeared in deep communication with Kael. The man mystified her. Clearly he was skilled in herbal medicine, otherwise she would not be amongst the living; he was also a shape shifter, which suggested at least some druidic training. Yet, there was something else she could not quite place, something that hinted at danger, like the armor and weapons he carried with him. The armor seemed to give off a palpable evil, which made Tashara wonder about both his past and his present motives. Nonetheless, he had both healed her and repaired her equipment, for which she was grateful.

Recalling his evident swagger as he related how the robe she had been wearing had arrived in his possession (why was it that men always found the need to tell everyone of their exploits?), she conjured her sweetest smile and approached, carrying the garment over her arm.

“Here's your dress. Tell me, did she give it to you because she thought it would match your hair or your eyes?”

“Actually I can't remember, but it was probably to compliment my skin tone.”

She groaned, “You really don't miss a beat do you.”

“That's always been my forte, in fact.”

Tashara rolled her eyes.

From seemingly nowhere an iridescent form appeared about her shoulder.

“You can do better than that, have all my lessons been for nothing?”

“Axis! You're safe!”

“Of course I'm safe, you don't think a superior entity such as me would allow himself to be harmed by orcs do you?”

Then, unusually, Axis changed his tone. “You were very badly hurt... I tried to help with some fireballs of my own from my hiding spot, but there were so many orcs.”

Tashara nodded, her expression grave.

At that point Pharis interjected, “Aren't you going to introduce us to your endearing companion?”

She blushed, realizing her rudeness. “Sorry. This is Axis, he is a fairy dragon and my familiar.”

Axis drew himself up to his full height and said, “I'm not just any fairy dragon, my lineage reaches back for generations.”

Yet again rolling her eyes Tashara retorted, “Yes, well, I'm sure the two of you will get along just splendidly.”

Pharis gave Axis an exaggerated bow. Tashara muttered something unrepeatable skywards.

“Well, that answers, one of my questions at least.”

“You had more?” Tashara raised an eyebrow.

“Well, about that spider ring...” Pharis coughed uncomfortably at the somewhat dangerous glint that was beginning to appear in Tashara's eyes.

“Yes, I meant to ask you about that ring.”

“I didn't intend for it to do what it did. It didn't transform me into a spider, not the same as you at least, the first time I equipped it.”

“So, what did it do precisely.” Her tone still carried something of a chill.

“I received spider-like abilities, but basically retained my human form. It wasn't until I'd equipped it several times that I actually became a spider, so I assumed you'd come to no harm. What did you do to make it work like that instantly?”

Tashara's brow furrowed, and her frown dissipated, “I didn't do anything, really. Perhaps it has something to do with being a mage and having the ability to shape shift.” She shrugged and absently fingered her sword.

Pharis noted the blade's deadly edge, and recalled how he had very nearly sliced off his finger while cleaning it. He also remembered his repair of the cuirass she now wore with evident relief.

“That is a fine set of gear you have there, it probably helped to save your life.”
It was as much a subtly worded question as it was a statement of fact.

“Yes, dangerous stuff,” She said meaningfully.

In response, Pharis just nodded, catching her intent in its entirety.

From her own perspective, Tashara longed to ask Pharis a few detailed questions of her own. However, he had been respectful of her desire for privacy, and thus decided to wait. Perhaps there would be a better time.

From a rocky outcropping a silvery, black shape emerged. One of the pack. This reminded Tashara of something she had wanted to convey.
Her eyes troubled, she turned to Pharis. “I'm sorry about the wolves that were lost.... they died defending me... Had it not been for my presence here none of this would have happened.”

Pharis looked off into the distance, seemingly searching for words. Finally, his voice quiet, still touched by grief, he replied. “They were... the pack is.. my family.. They are all I have now.”

“I know... My own situation is not so dissimilar, and it is why the orcs were chasing me; I slaughtered an entire legion with my magic, though I was not alone, others helped.
The elves I was living with, they had become family, they offered a refuge when I needed one. Until the orcs came... this forest was a sanctuary unlike any I had ever experienced. But, for reasons we still don't seem to understand, the orcs have invaded, and we need to find out why.”

“We?”

“Yes, we. They have killed several of the wolves, that in itself should be reason enough for you. “

Pharis gazed into the trees, silent. He knew she was appealing to his desire for vengeance and it made him hesitate. Vengeance.....

Tashara spoke again. “Besides, this forest is no longer safe, and you won't discover any answers here either.”

Still quiet, Pharis looked towards Kael. She had the feeling they were engaged in intense discussion. While the actual words remained a mystery, Tashara found she could sense something of their intent, at some level she felt that perhaps Kael was attempting to convince Pharis of the need to leave the forest. She glanced towards the wolf, grateful, and she had the distinct impression that Kael acknowledged her in his returning gaze.
She found herself puzzled, and wondered if her ability to communicate telepathically with Axis, or perhaps her shape shifting lent her something of an insight into understanding the huge, and powerful, wolf.

Finally, Pharis shifted his eyes towards her. “You are right, I won't find answers here, I will accompany you. But there are two things that must be attended to first. We all need to eat, and I need some sleep, I have not gotten very much over the last three days.”

“I have some provisions in my pack if you like.”

Pharis gave what could only be described as a 'wolfish' grin. “I was thinking of perhaps some fresh meat...”

Her face breaking into a smile, Tashara immediately nodded. She began to stretch every limb in her body, always necessary, she had found, before shifting into her wolf shape.

[Magrus]

Snirf was wandering around outside, puzzled as to where his cart and Nhutcluk had gone to. A foggy memory of being dragged off in a drunken stupor came over him suddenly as he scratched his head and stared around him. Snapping his fingers he rushed off to a nearby stable, far larger than the one with the inn.

Sprinting towards the stable, he rounds a corner and sees the doors swarmed with people and a sign in front of it. Pausing, he notices the sign mentions some nonsense about an incredible new ride for children. Not to mention an incredible price for a children's ride. Shaking his head he strode into the stable and tugged on the shirt of a stable hand. The man whirled around and said "2 gold pieces to ride the Magic Lizard Cart son."

Wrinkling his brow and staring at the man, Snirf said "I'm not a child, I'm a gnome, and what 'Magic Lizard Cart'? Where's my Nhutcluk and my Duo-Cycle?"

The man took an second look at the diminutive figure and said "Well, it's a good thing your a gnome. You would be about the ugliest kid I've ever seen."

Snirf glared at him and said "Where's my Nhutcluk and my Duo-Cyclic-All-Terain-Gnome-War-Cart?!"

Just then, the walls to an inner room of the stable in front of him started to shake and he heard some children shouting merrily. The man said slowly "A cart and what?"

Snirf poked the man in his belly and said "My lizard you oaf, if you don't have him, then where is he?"

The stable hand swatted the little gnomes hand away and said "Who's to say that there wouldn't be another lizard and cart here that isn't yours?" as he shifted uncomfortably.

Remembering the sign now, Snirf glowered at the man. "You've been using my invention and Nhutcluk for profit haven't you. You will cease your your your...endeavor at once."

The man planted his feet and said "This thing has made me more money in 3 days than I have all year! Unless you have proof it's yours, you can't have either back!"

Snirf sputtered "You, you you incouragable hu-human! I should take your gold and my cycle."

The man laughed and poked Snirf on the top of the head and said "How are you going to do that little man? Bite my shins?"

Incensed now, Snirf whistled, a high pitched sound, slowly trailing off to a lower pitch. The walls stopped shaking for a moment, and the children groaned. Then suddenly, the wooden timbers burst behind the stable hand and a massive lizard head pushed through them, with a huge, sharp-toothed grin on its visage upon seeing the gnome. "We'll be leaving as soon as you hand over my gold for your renting out my cart and Nhutcluck good sir."

The man spun around wildly at the sound of the kids shrieking and his wall bursting open. He stared at the lizard grinning at the little gnome behind him and then at the angry parents shouting at him and rushing towards their frightened children. "But it will cost a fortune to repair a wall of that size!?"

"That's horrible, I'm afriad you'll have to go back to shoveling offal to pay for that. Now, about the cost of renting my invention my good man?" Snirf said with a smirk.

Growling the man advanced on the little gnome with his hands raised and clenched into fits. Suddenly, he was lifted into the air and tossed backwards by a large toothy maw. Sighing, Snirf shook his head and said "Well now he'll need that coin to pay for a healer Nhutcluk! It's good to see you though, we've got to find that strange man we picked up when we found those orcs."

The little gnome scratched the massive head before hopping up onto the cart and shouting "Onward you great beast!" while the people crowded around the hole in the stable wall stared, dumbstruck at the scene.

**************************************************

While roaming the countryside around town, Snirf suddenly realized he knew nothing about tracking. Cursing in frustration, he came to the conclusion if he made a circuit around the town, slowly expanding outwards eventually he must come upon his quarry. Grinning happily, he turned the cart in a slow spiral outwards.

This grin faded over time, as he realized it might take forever to find Setenta this way. Two days later, he found a house a smoldering ruin. While he could appreciate the low red glow of the coals, the bodies surrounding the house angered him. Noticing one to be an orc he nudged the throttle and Nhutcluk walked forward slowly, curious as to whether this was related to the others he'd seen.

Moving closer, he saw an orc, smaller and not at all the dark color as before, but with the same markings on his armor. Not the same armor, yet bearing the same symbols. Curious, he swept his gaze around the country side, guessing he was only a 6 hour ride south of Windhaven, despite his 2 days of traveling. He decided to wander further out a bit to see what was going on beyond this area. Setting off in a line south of this burned out farm house he soon heard shouting.

Topping a hill, he looked down upon a small village of just a few houses. The village was surrounded by orcs, and the villagers were fighting to keep them away from the buildings. They were obviously outnumbered and not at all trained for battle. Squinting, Snirf made out close to 20 orcs. Tapping his fingers on the edge of the cart, he muttered "Let's hope there's not more of them nearby, this will sap a good deal of my strength saving those people."

Yanking on the throttle of his cart, he and Nhutcluk barreled down the hill before he turned the handle to the left and they slid to a halt and pulled viciously to the left while spraying a cloud of dirt and grass towards the orcs. Sod pelted those in back from the air, catching their attention. Turning as a group, Snirf noticed these were very disciplined orcs, before they broke off to deal with the newcomer. Concentrating quickly the gnome stared at the spot directly in front of the lead orc and suddenly a massive pillar of flame burst into existance in the field. The orcs died burning and screaming in the inferno, leaving only a handful of survivors.

Slumping against the edge of the cart, he yelled for the men staring in shock at him to take care of the injured remainders. As the men recovered and went to deal the death blows to the scorched orcs Snirf caught his breath and waiting for the men to come over before saying "This place isn't safe for you. Would you have some horses to ride to get to Windhaven before nightfall?"

The men looked at each other and a tall, dark haired man said "Not one for small talk are you little one? Thank you for saving us, and yes, we have horses. Only a few though, not enough for all of us."

Snirf grunted and said "Not when there's something important going on, no and you are welcome. Perhaps you should send your wives with your children on the horses, and follow behind on foot?"

The men conferred with each other quietly and the one who spoke before said "That's a good idea, what will you do?"

"I am heading to Windhaven to alert the town, then I'm coming out to find out if there are others like you. I will let them know you people are coming as well."

The man said "Very well, thank you again for saving us. We'll see you in Windhaven ya?" before turning away to gather his family.

Snirf turned the cart around and bade Nhutcluk to head north with haste as he tried to figure out what was going on here, and how the orcs had gotten to be down this way as well.

[Demortis]

Broken Blade prepared to meditate, when he thought back on his trip to the Underdark. It was several years ago, back when he traveled with a very diverse group. There were twin trolls, but they seemed to have done rituals to make them half-dragons. One was tinted red, the other black, but both were good natured, but very destructive. Then there was his apprentice, a Thri-Kreen. The two would spar often, preparing for anything that came their way. To bad Demorte was more lecherous then me.... He learned alot from me Blade thinks to himself, with a grin. The four went down to see if they could talk the drow into some "peaceful" negiotiations, but the Drow wouldnt have it. So they commenced to raid the temple to stop the Drow from attacking the surface for sometime. The Trolls were to carry the treasure, while Demorte was to protect them to his best ability. Blade had the "honor" of bating the Drow into following him, so he wandered into the temple disrobed and proceeded to releive himself inside the temple. The temple preistesses soon started to chase him, as he was running he felt something tangle his legs up, as he fell he looks and saw a pair of Bolas wrapped around his legs. He then flipped over and began running on his hands. He heard the message comming from his earring that the party was on their way to the surface and that he should do the same. Got to love the sending spell he thought to himself. He managed to kick the bolas off and flip back over again, Ya know, back then i think i tried to hit on a drow before all this happend he thought. Back on the surface the party managed to regroup and split the spoils of their endeavors. They went and had the items "cleaned" by clerics of Pelor to make sure they couldnt be tracked by Lloth or her preists.
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"Ah, good times, good times." Blade said as he went to the window of his room to look outside, he touched the earring he had kept in a pocket and thought about trying to find the rest of his party and raid another Drow city. "They are most-likely dead by now... that was years ago..." He said. He looked at the rings and the bracers that he had looted from the temple. "I wish you guys were here." he said with a sigh, then went back to meditating.

[Yshania]

As the afternoon sun stretched shadows before them, the vagabond party continued their march on Shilmista, the dire panther and her elemental companion following tirelessly and diligently, watchful of changes in mood or direction. The trek across the plains had been tediously inconclusive, and though her senses were keen, she had been unable to determine any motive or plan. Wary not to underestimate the band, Yshania and Githra had carefully concluded, and telepathically communicated, that the lack of apparent ordinance could be a façade – that the group may have sensed they were being observed – perhaps they were highly trained, or merely disorganised opportunistic adventurers.

Anyway, nightfall saw her reach Shilmista without incident, though she felt uneasy still, and grateful that Githra was dutifully supporting her careful curiosity. She disappeared thankfully into its shadows and, glad to leave the exposure of the grassy plains behind, she used her finely tuned senses to drink deeply of the alder, oak, beech, birch, ash and sycamore. Breathing evenly in unison with the nodding somnolent heads of the plethora of foxgloves, she welcomed the earthy aroma of the carpet of wet mulch that dampened her careful steps to an almost complete silence. A startled rabbit caused an instinctive rush of adrenaline, cautioned only by her determination to remain hidden yet watchful as the party approached the forest….her awareness heightened by the rush, she became conscious of the sound of conversation deeper within the forest. Torn, she deliberated, cautiously timing the distance, before trusting the band to Githra and heading deeper to investigate.

As it happened, they were not too far away, and their conversation was not as hushed as she had originally perceived – probably due to her distractions and briefly she berated this lapse in concentration. Beyond the low, dense foliage, the glow of the fire spoke volumes before she had even observed its maker…either they had nothing to hide, or they were extremely well armed and scouted. She crouched low and tuned into their banter…something was immediately familiar, yet strange, and detached and extra-dimensional…however, until she could make sense of this conundrum of …then something else lit up the copse in a cold ethereal glow of blues and greens and golds…a gasp and…

The arrow whistled above her head! Suddenly the bandit party were upon her in her absent contemplations! Instinctively she bolted and leapt into the branches of a nearby oak, coming face to face with a not too well concealed brigand. His scrambled fall backwards from his advantage point was helped along by a powerful swipe that took off half of his face…he landed screaming only for his death throes to be cut short by the descended weight of a panther knocking the wind out of him, and closing her powerful jaws around his throat…

All of a sudden all hell broke loose.

[dragon wench]

“Wait!”

Tashara stopped and faced Pharis. “I thought you were hungry.”

“Yes, but Kael needs to speak with you.”

“Speak?”

The wolf approached her, his expression intense. Suddenly, a curious, ripping sensation shuddered through her mind. She gasped, it was unlike anything she had ever previously experienced, as though invisible walls or barriers had been lifted, barriers she had not even been aware existed.

“If we are going to be hunting together, we need to be able to communicate. It is also a good idea, under the circumstances, that you can understand me.”

Kael's voice within her mind was deep and resonant. Her eyes widened, in surprise.

“I thought you would be easy to teach, you seemed to understand much already.”

Still in some shock, Tashara only stared. It had been different when Axis first spoke to her. It had been as though they had always been able to communicate, that ripping sensation had been absent.

“You are now one of the very few humans in existence able to speak with me, it is not a privelage granted easily.”

“But... I... I was responsible for the deaths of some of your number...”

“Orcs now abound in these forests, and not simply through your presence alone. We have always despised orcs, and now they dare to despoil our home. We must know why this has happened, and you can aid us.
You fought well alongside my pack, we can trust you.”

“It is an honour...”

Kael seemed to grin in a manner remarkably like Pharis had earlier. “I believe we had plans to relieve our hunger. My scouts have discovered a small herd of deer just to the west.”

[dragon wench]

Tashara took this as her cue. She stretched a final time, concentrated on the image of her dark, lupine form, and then transformed. At once, she found herself aware of the minute presence of insects, and the scuttling of small rodents in the grasses. Their scent reminded her acutely of her empty belly.

As she trotted near Pharis and Kael, the rest of the pack joined them. She had never hunted with a pack before, and felt nervous. As though reading her thoughts, Kael addressed her again. “Track, give chase and strike when I give word, but use your own instincts as well.”

The entire pack, moving towards the wind, seemed to meld into the undergrowth. Soon, several deer were spotted against the horizon, confirming the scent that the wolves had been following. The pack crouched down as one and silently crept closer, and closer, towards their quarry.

Kael's voice sounded in her mind. “We will try for the doe nearest to us, it is one of the largest.”

Having taken a route that ensured the deer did not catch their scent, the pack was able to surround its intended prey with ease. The urgent chitter of a squirrel, however, caused the herd to disrupt its grazing. The lead animal spotted the dark shapes frozen in the grasses. Simultaneously, they bolted.

“Now!”

Still in group formation the wolves sprang to the chase. Tashara, letting her instincts lead her now, loped towards the doe's left flank. She sprang, and her jaws began to close down. At the same time Kael and Pharis closed in. The doe stumbled, and spurting warm blood indicated that Kael had made the killing strike upon the animal's snout.

As the pack approached, Tashara backed away, somewhat unsure of how distribution would work. As she had guessed Kael and a large female fed first; once they had eaten their part of the kill, the remaining wolves gradually moved in.

Crouching down to eat her own share, Tashara felt something close to ecstasy. Hunting with the pack had offered an exhilaration she had not anticipated, and the overwhelming scent of raw venison after three days without eating was enough to make her forget, at least temporarily, any humanity she might possess. With a snarl, she tore into the warm flesh, gorging until her stomach could hold no more.

Finally sated, she looked about, and found that the rest of the pack had also finished eating.
Drowsy, she yawned, displaying large, sharp fangs.

She felt a nudge at her side, it was Kael. “We will return to the den to rest, it is not safe here.”

The pack loped back to their home, and for the first time in her life, Tashara entered a wolf's den.

[Aegis]

The halls of the building were empty: deserted. It seemed to both Aegis and Gypsy that whatever had happened here, it was barely a fight. More than likely, whoever had lived in this building had fled upon the initial attack. The only sign that it had been invaded was the occasional body of a man lying against the wall, blood trailing down the wall creating a grim lead. Both the companions held onto their weapons tightly, the scent of death thick in the air. So far, they had yet to see any life within the building. Whatever Orc had done its business here was quick, and efficient about it, an almost terrifying thought to Aegis. He was used to the chaotic, unpredictable nature of Orc slayings: Animalistic and predatory in nature. The death strikes along the bodies that littered the halls seemed more precise, practiced. Whatever had killed these people took enormous pride in the act, possibly even savouring the act, as none of the wounds looked to have caused an instant death.

Gypsy's lips tightened as her green eyes flashed from one side of the hall to the other, looking at the scattered bodies. Her olive skin turned stark white along her knuckles as she gripped her weapons more tightly, almost wringing the leather bindings away. She didn't stray far from Aegis' side, prefer the notion of safety in numbers, even if the number was simply two. Visions of the blackened orcs cutting a bloody path through these few defenders flashed in her mind, causing her to grimace slightly. She tensed more with every thought.

Aegis moved with an almost callous ease, paying little more than passing glance to the bodies they moved past. He was more than familiar with death, though he clenched the polished shaft of his weapon nervously. He was confident enough in his abilities, but the clean cuts that had caused these deaths was far more than he was expecting. Something humane, yet savage about what was left.

The two came to a fork in the hall. In the centre, two slain men lay in a pool of their own blood, piled atop of each other. Aegis knelt beside them, giving a quick glance to the bodies. As he was about to rise, he caught a small quiver in the arm of the man lying directly on the floor. The motion stopped Aegis, as he quickly placed a hand on the mans throat. Feeling the faint pulse, Aegis motioned for Gypsy to join him.

"Watch the halls. This one is still alive." Gypsy nodded, her olive skin looking a shade more pale than normal. Aegis slid the body pinning the survivor to the side. The man shuddered slightly with the release of the tension, his hand grasping futilely for the shattered weapon laying more than a foot away. Aegis quietly brought the weapon close enough for the man to clutch it tight in his dying breaths.

The man took his last breaths, and Aegis knelt a moment longer, running his hand across the mans eyes, closing them in death. With a small sigh, he began to push himself up from the ground.

Before he even rose to his full height, he felt a violent surge of air, followed by a loud crashing noise. Aegis reacted instantly, his free hand returning to his weapon, holding it defensively in front of him. Gypsy had reacted as well. Aegis glanced at the wall of the hallway behind him, looking at the vicious looking axe that had embedded itself deeply within. He turned back around, only to witness a maliciously grinning half-orc stacking towards him, a sharp drawn blade held menacingly in his hand.

"Well, that explains a bit, then-"

"Stow it, Human." The half-breed stepped into the centre of the hall; his hulking form blocking the path Gypsy and Aegis had come from. The fading light cast from the few remaining torch brackets danced eagerly off the metallic surface of his weapon. He had also been quite clear on his distinct dislike for human blood.

Aegis cast a quick glance to Gypsy. "Thought you were watching for orcs." Aegis motioned with eyes towards the half-orc, almost completely ignoring his presence.

"I was, dear." Gypsy shrugged, tightening her grip on her Dragonfang weapons more tightly. "This one here's a half-orc." She threw a playful smile towards Aegis, along with a wink.

"Come on, now! You know what I meant!" Aegis' shoulders slumped slightly at Gypsy's play of words, wryly sneaking out of the position of blame. "Now you try to play your way out of this, with us in mortal danger!"

"Well, this wouldn't have happened if you didn't bother with the dead" Gypsy shot back to Aegis, her attention almost completely taken off the half-orc in front of them.

Aegis angled his body to face Gypsy, still retaining his hold on shaft of his Glaive. "Now you're blaming me?" Aegis' eyes went wide at the condemnation.

"Well, I don't see who else's fault it could be!" Gypsy's hand moved to her waist, the back of her wrists resting on the stiff leather of her belt, weapons still in hand.

"Shut. Up." The half-orc said firmly after watching the exchange between the two companions. He was obviously frustrated at being ignored, more so that they seemed to not to take him as a serious threat to their safety. He took another step forward, his blade pointing towards Aegis. "You there, human. Tell me what you're doing here." He eyed both of them cautiously, his feral eyes gleaming with an inner intelligence. "Neither of you have the look of the pathetic wretches that guarded this place." He sneered as he finished the sentence.

"-Oh, so now you're bringing up that?" Aegis had retorted to a comment Gypsy had made. The two had obviously failed to hear what the half-orc had said, which only seemed to infuriate him further.

"Well, it seems quite familiar, doesn't it?" Gypsy stepped towards Aegis, one hand now raised, pointing at him through her grip on her weapon. "Just another instance of you stopping for some menial reason, only for someone or something to catch us with our pants around our ankles!"

The half-orc had heard enough, and had had enough of being thoroughly ignored. With a speed not common to a creature of his bulk, he leapt forward, his blade slicing through the air, towards Aegis' compromised form. What happened next still lies in contention. Aegis' reacted just as fast, catching the attacker off guard, when he had thought the advantage was his. With a swift flick of the wrist, Aegis snapped the haft of his pole-arm up off the ground, catching the half-orc in the midriff. The hit itself did little more than surprise the half-orc, but it was enough, sending him stumbling back a pace to readjust himself, looking warily at the two. He had seemed to judge them too quickly.

The two companions seemed to stop their argument with the sudden attack, both turning to face their assailant. "Now, that's just downright rude." Aegis angled his head to the side, swinging his glaive across his shoulders casually. "Attacking when me and my dear friend here are trying to have a conversation."

The half-orc's eye twitched in annoyance at the relaxed nature Aegis was taking in the situation. Gypsy was now standing right beside her companion. "See, this is why people don't like half-orcs. Sure, they have in them to be just as civil as humans…" She cast a small glance at Aegis, who was idly cleaning out one of his ears with his finger, "well, most humans. But, they just seem too eager to kill something, wouldn't you agree, hon?"

Aegis flicked the bit of earwax from his finger, and turned to Gypsy. "Eh? What was that, now?" Gypsy shot him a deadly stare, then shook her head. Aegis only offered an innocent smile, before stepping towards the half-orc.

"Well," he started, "it seems like you are pretty keen on killing us, but that doesn't mean we can't at least know your name." He shot a smile towards the half-orc, extending his hand.

The half-orc smiled maliciously. "Erudish." Before the words left his lips, he was already springing into action towards the two companions.

[Georgi]

Amira glanced about her as she stepped into the alley that led to the back entrance of the Lady's Blessing. Sure enough, her instinct had not misled her; a couple of ruffians were surreptitiously tailing her. She saw one signal to the other out of the corner of her eye, and a hint of a smirk tugged at the corner of her mouth. She deliberately slowed her step as the men approached her from behind.

"Well, well. Easy pickin's for us today, Barney. Don't look like this one's even going to bother leadin' us a chase neither."
"Aye, boss," replied Barney.
"Shame, really. Nothing like a good pursuit to raise the blood... Say, girly, what's that ye're singin' there, yer own last rites?"
Barney guffawed at this wit. Amira, her back still turned, one hand resting on the emerald-encrusted hilt of a throwing dagger in her belt, snatched a breath and the rhyme she had been humming suddenly crescendoed into a complex spiral of notes:

Wander aimless
O ye nameless
Addled and befuddled!
Lose all thought
Mayhem wrought
Catastrophe and muddle!

As her refrain came abruptly to an end, Amira spun and in one swift motion raised the dagger and flung it at Barney. It struck with some force through his palm, pinning his hand to the wall. Barney howled.

The boss lurched towards Amira, filled with blind bloodlust but unable to master his clouded thoughts. Amira sidestepped him neatly and before his lumbering form had registered what had happened, she had snatched from her belt an ebony-handled dagger and embedded it in his back. As she withdrew the blade, the boss spewed blood onto the dirt and crumpled to the ground. As he did so, Amira's eye was drawn to the bastard sword hald out of its scabbard at his side. It had an obvious dweomer of magic about it; how had this thug come into the possession of such a piece of workmanship?

Barney was still howling. "Would you stop that?" Amira muttered irritably. "I'm trying to think." When his yammering ceased almost immediately, Amira sprang towards him, positioning the point of her still-bloody blade at his throat. His confusion was obviously wearing off and she wasn't taking any chances.
"Now tell me," she growled, "where did an amateur like your boss over there get his grubby hands on a blade like that?" She pressed the question home with her dagger. Barney gulped. "Well?"
"D-don't kill me," he stammered. "P-please don't kill me, it was all the boss's idea, I wouldn't... I never..."
Amira silenced him with her blade. "You know, Barney... I really don't care. What I want to know about is that sowrd over yonder. Tell me where it came from, and your chances of living might improve." She considered this for a moment, then added, "Although I'm not promising anything."

"Orcs, it came from the orcs!" he gasped.
"Orcs?" Amira frowned. "Here, in Windhaven?"
"No ma'am, no, we was scoutin' a village a couple of hours south, lookin' for..."
"More hapless victims?" She rolled her eyes.
"The village was sacked before we got there, looted. We came across two orcs enjoyin' a slap-up meal... caught them off-guard, didn't we? Killed them both, ma'am."
"I see. What did they look like?"
Barney looked puzzled. "I don't..."
"Was there anything odd about them? Their armour, weapons, markings...?"
"Ain't never seen orcs before, ma'am." Barney grinned foolishly. "Most ya gets round these parts is a rabid wolf. Can I... Can I go now, ma'am?"
"Hmmm?" His question interrupted Amira from deep speculation. "Oh, of course. You can go... to hell." She withdrew her blade from his throat, but Barney gaped in shock. His free hand flew to his stomach and he held it up and stared at the blood.

Amira calmly wiped the blood from her twin ebony daggers on Barney's tunic, and slipped one back into the scabbard in her belt. The other, she tucked into the top of one of her thigh-length black leather boots.
"Oh, allow me. How thoughtless." Amira unpinned Barney's hand from the wall and he fell to the floor, clutching at his belly, trying to stem the blood. She cleaned off her throwing dagger and replaced it in its pouch, then turned to the boss's limp body and retrieved the mysterious sword. She rifled through the dead men's possessions and found a few baubles and gems; then, satisfied, she headed for the privacy of her room.

[Bloodstalker]

Bloodstalker rode walked Cobalt slowly through what was left of the broken fence. Drawing to a halt he took in the scene. Some thirty yards off to his left what was left of the burned out barn lay collapsed upon the level plot of land, the smoke that had drawn his attention still rising and drifting over the land. The broken body of a man lay midway between the rubble and the house as if struck down in a deperate bid the escape the inferno that had been. Nudging Cobalt into motion, Bloodstalker moved past the scattered bodies of slain livestock, making his way toward the fallen figure. The smoke swirled over the area, stinging his eyes as the heat from the still smoldering ashes became uncomfortable enough to tell him that whatever had happened here had not occured long before. Probably no more than five or six hours judging by the intensity of the heat and the state of the blood coagulating around the carcasses he estimated.

Coming up next to the body BS swung down from the saddle, grimacing as a shift of wind caused the smell of burnt flesh to hit him full force. He was no stranger to such acts of brutality, but still could not help the momentary feeling of nausea that swept over him as he squatted down to inspect the body further. His quick examination brought him to the conclusion that the man had most likey died a quick death as was attested to by the caved in skull. Raising his eyes he swept them again across the area, his gaze travelling swiftly over the dead cattle. This in itself struck him as odd. A band of orcs on the move was more than capable of doing this degree of distruction, but to leave so much meat wasted was out of the ordinary. Orcs were notorious for their eating habits, which consisted mainly of eating anything they could get their hands on. A force as large as what was rumored to be roaming these lands would need supplies, he mused, and it would be highly unlikley that they would have let so much meat go to waste, cattle or human.

A sick feeling starting to take hold in his gut, BS walked the distance to the house. The walls were scorched as if a half hearted attempt had been made to burn the building, but no serious damage had been sustained save for the shattered windows and broken door that lay ripped from it's hinges and thrown carelessly aside. Stepping to the door, BS shivered involuntarily as a smell he had long ago become accustomed to intensified. A morbid mix of blood and sweat, combined with the beginnings of decay that he recognized as death.

Stepping through the door and into the room, he found the inside of the building looked as if a band of demons had been loosed. Furniture was strewn and shattered everywhere and it was an effort to navigate the wreckage. Two more bodies lay inside the main room, one another male who was lying where he had apparently fallen against the far wall. The injuries covering his body showed he had put up a fight, as had the older female who lay draped across the table. BS felt the bile rise in his throat as he took in her appearance. Her death had been longer and more drawn out judging from the tattered clothing that did little to conceal her body.

Turning quickly to make his way from this proxy of Hell, he paused as a sound reached his ears. It had been low, almost inaudible, but he had caught the barest hint of a moan. Heading in the direction of the noise, he stepped into the bedroom off the main room, stopping as he took in the sight of the woman laying on the bed. A slight stir told him that she was indeed clinging to life, but her battered and abused form was evidence enough that her hold was slipping fast.

Stepping gently further into the room he caught sight of the final body. He suppressed the stir of anger that coursed through him as he took her in. The remains of what must have been a beautiful girl, Likely barely into her teens, lay cast aside carelessly in the corner of the room. He death had been as slow and painfull as the other women from the evidence of abuse on her body. He had expected the women to have been used so, but a child...he shook his head to clear the cloud of anger that threatened to consume him as he looked once again to the woman barely alive on the bed.

Her eyes were focused on the child, and BS felt the tears sting his eyes as he stepped between the two. Taking one of the blankets that had been tossed about the room in the struggle, he covered the form of the young girl before kneeling by the bedside and taking the womans hand in his own. Meeting her eyes, he felt the tears well again as he noted the softening of the womans face despite her pain at the gesture. She wouldn't last long he knew, but he would not leave her here to die alone in such a place. Smiling weakly, he brushed a strand of her hair from her face as she attempted to speak. BS leaned in close, straining to hear the stunted words that confirmed his suspicions and fueled the rage that boiled within him.

Less than fifteen minutes later, BS stepped back outside the building. Walking with purpose, he went to the dead man and carried him inside, depositing him in the middle of the room on the table with the other bodies he had gathered and arranged on a makeshift pyre. Dousing the stacked scraps of furniture with coal oil he'd found near the fireplace, BS cursed the fact that he had nothing with which to dig a grave with before striking a match and setting the room ablaze.

Walking back outside, he stood for a few moments, watching silently as the flames engulfed the house before turning to collect Cobalt. Swinging up into the saddle, Bloodstalker turned his mount north once again, but his time he was not wandering blindly in an attempt to scout. This time Bloodstalker had a purpose and a trail to follow, and he'd be damned if anything swayed him from his chosen course.

[The Z]

"So 'Erudish' is my hero’s name," Amelie thought to herself, while watching him leap into a skirmish with the two lighthearted humans from the deep recesses of the shadows. The half-orc beat back the man carrying the glaive whilst the enigmatic axe sparred with the exotic woman. Like a dainty cat, the child effortlessly slid closer to the melee, lurking in the dark unbeknownst to the combatants. Weapons shone in the dim firelight, as did armor, and both flashed back and forth like dazzling stars that danced amongst each other in the night sky. Now, Erudish backpedaled, wary of coming too close to his dangerous foe until he was pressed against a wall. The man let a mocking grin spread across his handsome face. Amelie cringed, staring with horrific fascination at what could be the death of her newfound friend. But the half-orc returned the man’s jest with a menacing snarl and flicked a nearby torch at him with his saber. They were both too sharp in battle to let such a fight end so quickly and anti-climatically; and, for that matter, they took too much pride in their abilities to let the other best him.

The half-elf child sighed, wondering why her new friend felt the need to attack or fight everything. From the tender, paternal moments he’d bequeathed upon her, he seemed too sweet to be as brutal as he appeared to be. She knew in her heart that he wasn’t always the savage aggressor that fought for his life before her eyes. The glimpses of his more humane side peeked through his fiery shell – sunlight at the end of a tunnel. Sadly, it wasn’t shown enough to become accustomed to it - at least not yet. The half-orc had been the one inkling of compassion the child had seen in a long time. Amelie longed to wake up from the nightmare that had been that last few days. The tragedies that beset her seemed endless, a spiraling abyss of eternal torment to be hung from her back like an unholy cloak.

Her father, who had raised her alone, had fallen in the first failed assault by the orcs. She had drifted in the shadows, watching the big brutish beasts destroy her home, her friends, her guardians with unbridled curiosity. However, it was hard to remain hidden in a forest that had been lit ablaze. Amelie had foolishly run into the midst of the onslaught and had caught the eye of her beloved father. He saw what she had failed to notice – an orc eager to take her life with its gaping maw wide open. Knowing that if he turned his back on the task at hand he’d be pegged off by archers anyways, he hurled his javelin at her attacker at the same moment a barrage of arrows ripped into his back.

Devastated, the half-elf had cradled her father’s head in her lap for hours and sang, trembling while tears flowed, tinting her melody with a shaken undertone. To her ears it was the sound of failure – she was the reason her father expended his life for her! It was her folly, her ineptitude – her inexperience with the world. The haunting warbles were meant to raise the dead, but Amelie had never managed to get the pitch and tone right, no matter how many timed the druids had scolded and tutored. That time was no different. Her failure had become two-fold.

In actual fact, the child was not one to cry often; she’d wept more in two days then she had in all of her ten years before then. It was an unsettling experience, one that would shape her life in the years to come. For now though, the growing pains were only beginning to manifest themselves. Amelie’s wide amber eyes had begun to water again. Anxious to appear headstrong and as happy-go-lucky as she’d been before entering the throne room, she turned her attention to a strange creature – a half-orc – that had two faces: one, affectionate for her, the other, fury-filled for all other people, regardless of disposition or race.

[The Z]

Erudish’s gamble had paid off. As long as he kept telling his axe to ‘fight her’, it would spar with the woman, whose skin identified her as one who was not from anywhere near where they now fought. Because of this though, his mind was unable to figure out the best means to attack the closer danger – a human with a startlingly dangerous glaive. The man, knowing perhaps that he was slightly quicker, utilized quick jabs with the occasional sweeping blow mingled in to keep the half-orc on his toes.

Once more he was forced to backpedal, unable to slip inside the attacking radius of his foe to land a decent shot or two.

“This is too easy,” laughed the human as he pressured Erudish back and then even further back.

Sensing a brief reprieve, the general tried desperately to distract the other warrior, “Since you have my name, I think it’s only polite if you two introduce yourself. I deserve to know the name of so worthy an adversary. In fact, I demand it.”

“That’s not very polite then, is it? Hun, this half-orc seems to think demanding things of innocent folk like us is polite, what do you think?” he replied, in between feints and parries.

“I’m a little busy here. If you haven’t noticed, his axe is a better fighter then him.”

As if to accentuate that point, she nimbly ducked beneath a horizontal slice from the weapon and landed two quick blows onto the shaft, which only resulted in a few sparks.

“And Aegis, honey, unlike those dead bodies you seem to love so much, this thing won’t be lying on the ground dead anytime soon…”

The warrior, Aegis, rolled his eyes and turned back towards Erudish resuming his assault of jabs and slices.

“So, Erudish, can your axe die? Is it an invisible halfling, playing ‘fighter’ with your weapon? I’m curious, how does something as dumb as an orc find an axe that deadly?”

“No, no, and I know you’re dumb but what am I?”

“Honey, the thing can speak common half decently! Oh wait, now I know why: he’s a half-orc! Get it? And Erudish, buddy, why are you using comebacks a five-year old kid could come up with?”

“Just lowering my standards so an idiot like you can understand.”

The olive-skinned woman laughed and dodged another wicked slash from the axe that nearly severed the wooden support beam behind her, leaving it dangling precariously.

“You might’ve just met your match Aegis!”

“That hurts Gypsy, it really does,” he replied, rolling his eyes once more.

“Not as much as she’s going to be hurting.”

With that, Erudish hurled his saber towards Aegis' companion and recalled his axe until it rested comfortably in his hands. Again, she jumped backwards and neatly out of the way.

“You missed me sweetie.”

“I wasn’t aiming for you.”

Gypsy turned slowly and looked up, her eyes widening slightly as the support beam above her creaked and began tumbling down.