misleading trails and dancing woods

[chiikurayami]

come one, come all, join me in a mystic land where creatures stalk the nights, fairies dance in ringlets, and anything is possible.
okay so rules, please write more than a sentence or two, be a strong character, not a perfect, be original, a story is only as good as the people in it. No god modding. No outrageous characters I'm not sure of anything else after that.
and so it begins:

Rain fell hard on the little town, blotting out the starry sky and what would be a full moon. The town seemed as though it had indeed drowned. The shutters were closed, but not just against the wind and rain. Fear had crept through this town like a disease. Even when daylight banished nightmares from the shadows, it could not banish the shadows that had fallen on the town people's hearts. They were no longer free. While they may not have known it, they felt it. The world was changing.

No one should be out on a night like this and yet a cloaked figure made it's way through the flooding streets. The hood was drawn up over the stranger's face, not only keeping away the biting wind and chilling rain, but also keeping the identity firmly concealed. It picked it's way quickly, moving as a shadow barely seen and unheard.

At last it slowed at a shabby looking building from which light poured through the cracks in the shutters. "Dancing Tiger" the sign overhead read in peeling letters. The figure rapped sharply on the door before being admitted suspiciously by a small, wheezy old man. The person promptly went to it's seat near the back of the room.
Once seated she, for now it was obvious by the slender feminine form, pulled down her hood. Raven black hair tumbled down her back and she brushed it from her silver eyes. She sat still, her eyes wandering the length of the bar, seemingly waiting for someone or something, but not showing much interest. She could be considered marginally beautiful, but nothing amazing. She had a fair complextion that was almost ivory in color and her lips and cheeks were touched with red. Her silver eyes rested under long thick lashes. Despite her looks there was something dangerous about her. Something in her eyes and in her stance and bearing that were not quite normal. She carried herself with a grace and almost arrogance that would not be found in most women. The people in the tavern shot curious and suspicious glances at her, but she paid no mind.

The whispers in the room rose and fell in graceful cadence, slow, rhythmic, mingling strangely with the rain outside like a morbid lullaby. The dull candle light flickered softly causing the strange shadows about the room to dance. The smell of ale and smoke from the fire mixed with the musty, dank smell of the room. This was a den for thieves and cutthroats. Were the wicked came to hide from the world.
Kira felt a slight twinge of anger and distaste. She may not be the model citizen, but she kept many of the people in this town safe, whether they knew it or not. She was no criminal.
She could hear the sound of the wind growing stronger outside. It threatened to blow the very kingdom off the map. Listen to the the sound, she waited.

[Grim Jestor]

...slowly, cautiously, an honest-looking man with plain features and deep-set eyes joined her at the table. He was dressed in an oiled-leather overcoat, and carried a wide-brimmed hat in his hand. It was obvious to Kira that he was used to traveling, and although she had never laid eyes upon him before now, she knew that she ought to know him from somewhere. In a low voice, he introduced himself as Simon, a trader from the North, and explained that although they may have never met in person, he knew all about her by reputation. "It is a great honor for me to make the acquaintance of such a mighty warrior," he continued, "especially here in these parts such a one is scarce indeed. But business, and not leisure, is what brings me here tonight, to this hole of a tavern. You must know already that I bear a message from Him," here he lowered his voice to a half-whisper, not daring to use names, for walls have ears as well as eyes. "I fear that I cannot speak of such things here, though, and we must make haste to a safer place. Those around us are mostly common criminals, but as I awaited your arrival i noticed more than one of the Assassins' Guild, and such type do not frequent establishments such as this. If they can silence us here, and keep you from your task, then our adversary will never be stopped. Even now they watch us, and we have precious little time before they make their move..." Standing up quickly, he was out the door before she could object, and their meeting postponed she followed him out into the stormy night..."

[chiikurayami]

Kira watched the man closely as she followed him, not only because the rain created a thick veil that was difficult to see through, but because she didn't entirely trust him. She kept her hand rested on the hilt of her sword and her dagger close. As she walked she contemplated what it was he had been sent for. She hadn't dealt with "him" for almost a year now and she was slightly curious why "he" needed her now.
She pulled her cloak tighter against the chill rain and wind, shivering from more than cold. It wasn't this man that made her so anxious-- it looked as though she could drop him so fast he wouldn't know what had hit him-- it was the slightly cryptic message he had given her.
She noticed that he was leading her out of the town proper, not to the scattered inns along the dedraggled road, but to the grave yard. Kira's curiousity well over shadowed any fear she might have had. Though the ground was wet, it did not have the muddy, drowned feeling of the town, the grass seemed to be drinking it in. Kira thought with some sense of irony that, even with it crumbling tombstones and maseleums standing decrepidly in the pouring rain, the graveyard had a sligtly less ominous feeling then the town. Again her curiosity leaped when Simon came to the foot of a large stone angel, under which rested a stone slab. He turned to see if she was still following her, slightly surprised when she was just several steps behind. The angel stared serenly down at him as he bent to pull the slab away. It slid off quite easily though it still made some noise. In the dark she could just make out the even darker shape of stairs. Simon gestured to them and without waiting for her, began to slowly descend them.

[Grim Jestor]

Simon stopped a few stairs down, waiting for her to catch up, and felt along the wall until he found the hidden catch. With the pull of a cleverly-concealed lever, the stone slab slid back seemingly of its own accord, sealing them in and erasing any evidence of their passing, at least to the untrained eye. He knew that the assassins from the Dancing Tiger could well have followed them, and did not want to leave them any easy clues as to their quarry's whereabouts. Kira could out-fight two or three well-trained warriors alone, of course, but he did not want to attract attention in these troubled times, not when any likely attention would come from the wrong places, from those who ought not even know he had come to town. Simon was from the far North, in this he did not lie, but he was not and never had been a trader in anything more solid than information and blood... he served his master well, but was not accustomed to running errands such as this, and definitely not good at blending in with small-town scum in thieves' taverns. With the cover safely over their heads, he reached again into the dark and brought forth a lantern, which he quickly lit and held up to light their way as they continued down into the ground. The staircase led far deeper than any empty tomb should lie, and as they continued down the square-cut stone walls became more and more overgrown with such slimy plants as could grow without ever seeing the sun, and finally the bricks ended in an arch-like doorway, beyond which lay only darkness; they had come to the end of the stair, and stood now in a natural cave blacker than night, barely illuminated by the flickering lantern which showed little more than rough passageways leading far off in all directions. “Dark holes for dark deeds, my father always said, may his spirit rest easy,” Simon muttered, and she realized with a start that she had certainly heard this saying before. His voice sounded tired and gloomy, as one who has seen too much darkness and too much evil, one who long ago forsook sunlight and never quite got around to finding it again. Indeed, Kira noticed, he was far paler than a normal man should be, with light blond hair almost silver in the dark. As he turned to her, finally removing his wide-brimmed hat, she realized that his face was deeply scarred and wondered why she had thought him an honest trader back at the Dancing Tiger. There was nothing good or honest now in the deep-sunk eyes which looked into hers, and the voice with which he spoke seemed nothing like the frightened messenger who could not raise his voice for fear of danger. “Forgive me please for the ruse, but it did not seem wise to linger. Those assassins would not stop eying me from the moment I walked in, and I fear they saw through my disguise with ease.” Kira had stood there silently studying him, searching his face for something she could remember, for now the feeling that she had met this one somewhere in the past was stronger than ever.


“I believe you said something about a message from Him,” she finally said, not coldly but with the certain professional detachment of one who would rather begin a job than stand and talk about it. But at that moment from far above the harsh scrape of stone on stone was heard, and several voices talking all at once before the fall of many feet upon stone steps, and Simon looked up wildly. Without saying anything, he gestured frantically to Kira and took off at a run deeper into the cave, his coat flapping behind him. At first he ran in a straight line from the stairs but suddenly veered to the left and into a side-room and down a tunnel, following a path which he must have memorized. Somewhat annoyed with the delay, knowing that especially with the element of surprise and the darkness on her side she could handle whoever came down those stairs, but loathe to cry out she followed the bobbing lantern as quickly as she could across the curiously smooth cavern floor, and soon the stairs were far behind. The escape route, for this is certainly what it was, led through a complex series of rooms and passages, before finally Simon stopped, extinguishing his lantern, and walked slowly forward into a great chamber, with a wide yawning mouth through which stars could be seen. Setting the lantern aside, he led her out beneath the night sky. The rain had ended, and a brisk wind chased wisps of clouds behind the storm.



He was wearing his hat again, and the strangely-bright moonlight threw his scarred face into deep shadow as he caught his breath and began. “As I was saying before we were so rudely interrupted, my deception was necessary and although it is not my true name, you may call me Simon, and I serve your past master, Him whose name need not be mentioned here, especially after fleeing twice from most determined hunters. We are safe now, however, for they can wander in the caves for seven lifetimes of a man and never discover this exit, dark and secret. I hope you left nothing important back in the town, for we now lie over a league away straight over the hills, and ten or more by road in this rough country... and I fear it is not safe to go back the way we came, not now. I was a fool to meet you there in the tavern's light, for now they know my face. But now I can give you the message, He said you will be able to figure out what it means...


Seek ye out the tower of dusk, in the realm of the lost ones beyond the curtain of dawn.”


He recited the words carefully, as if afraid he was leaving something out, and looked at her expectantly. "It means nothing to me, unfortunately, but He did say that I am to offer whatever help I can, and to give you this as well, although He did not say what it is for...” He reached into a hidden pocket and drew out a small silver key on a fine chain, holding it up in the light of the moon...

[chiikurayami]

Kira stared at the key in Simon's hand as though it were and evil thing.
"The lingering light of the dying sun, renewed by blood, shall color many tears," she whispered. Gingerly she lifted the key from off his palm. Silver and small, it's surface was etched with designs and runes whose meaning was lost long ago. The moonlight glinted dully off of it. She half threw it back at Simon who watched her with hidden surprised and turned her back on him. She heard him take a step toward her.
"You may give that back to him," she said softly, "I will have nothing to do with it." Simon began to protest, but she whirled around before he could get more than five words out.
"He is my master no longer,"she said fiercly, "I will no longer do his bidding." Simon sighed.
"He knew you would say that."
A smile, more like a grimace, spread across Kira's face.
"Ah yes, He always did seem to know everything." With one fluid movement she drew her sword from it's scabbard and laid the cold, sharp edge across his kneck. "But tell me, will he knew that his messenger id dead when no one can find his body?" Their eyes met. "I want answers," she said coldly, not moving the blade. "He doesn't speak openly of his plans, but he has told you much more than you let on, I know. So if you value your life, as I am sure you do, you will give me the wider scope of this tale." Simon swallowed and opened to his mouth to speak, but, for the second time, Kira cut him off.
"And do not think to utter falsehoods or give me half-truths, for I will see through the deceit."

[Grim Jestor]

...Simon did not move, staring into Kira's eyes for a moment, and a hiss-like laugh escaped through his clenched teeth. "He does not make requests, as you should know very well by now. Kill me if you like, and he will send another, for it would seem that you are somehow essential to his plans." She continued to hold her blade to his neck, knowing that she could kill him in an instant. She wondered briefly if he thought she was merely bluffing, but reconsidered, remembering exactly who had sent this mysterious--if rather foolish--messenger. This one has yet one more card to play, she grimly thought, one that even the threat of death will not bring out. This one bears watching, if not killing...

"If I am so important to him, let him come himself," she replied forcefully, and twitched her hand just enough to draw a little blood. "But if you want to keep on living, which I assume you do, you will tell me all that you know, and quickly. Of course you remember that I am not known for my patience." She knew that he would never leave the safety of his dark fortress, not these days if indeed ever. Therefore, he had to get others to do his dirty work for him, others like this Simon who was maybe only seconds away from death. Somewhere in the darkness, an owl hooted. The silence out here was not complete, for although nothing human was around for miles, the nearby forest was alive with... darker things.

"I know that we are to bring something back," Simon began at last, "but if he knows what we are looking for, then I was not told. I also know that the line I spoke is part of an old poem, very long and in a lost language. But that is as much as I know, for it is all that he told me, and he was insistent that I speak it word-for-word. But what you said earlier, about the dying sun... is it related in some way? More from the same old verse?" He was lying, and hoped she did not notice. This was indeed a foolish ploy on his part, for anyone with past connections would know that his shadowy master was wise in ancient lore, as well as lost languages and dead histories. This could well mean my death, the thought played through his mind, but for some reason this does not bother me at all... He could not decide if it would be better to die by this one's hand, or to await the terrible punishment reserved for failures and traitors alike; in the eyes of his master, he knew, they were both the same. Feeling a familiar prickle on the back of his neck, from some sixth sense or a hidden telepathy, Simon looked around suddenly, extending the line of blood, but now not noticing the sharp pain. His eyes widened, and now fear showed plainly where before there had been none. Puzzled, Kira withdrew the sword, holding it at the ready, and not sure yet if she wanted to strike. "But as for your first question... will he know that I am dead? Yes, and you should know the reason very well... he is watching us at this very moment..."

...floating silently just out of sight, still inside the cave's dark mouth, something very much like an eye peered at the two figures silhouetted slightly against the moonlit sky, seeing all but hearing nothing. Outside, they spoke back and forth for a little longer, until finally she put her sword away and he handed her the key again. The hidden watcher would have to wait for his servant's next report, but he could see through his Wizard's Eye that Simon must have made some convincing argument, for this time she kept it, hiding it away in the folds of her clothing, and they walked off down the hill, into the east toward the beginning of their journey...

[chiikurayami]

Kira followed behind Simon, her head aching and her thoughts spinning. She felt as though she was in a waking dream, that at any moment she would stumble and fall, landing with a jolt awake in her bed. This was why she left His service. This feeling of half reality plagued her morethan pain and death. She felt as though He was constantly watching, always listening. She shivered, knowing this was probably all too true. She had been to close in His service and His plans to ever be left alone. She had always known she would never fully escape that life she tried to leave behind, for running too far from it would mean her death.
She wondered what this new advanture would mean. She only slightly understood all that was going on. The key had once appeared beside the poem in an old book, but that had burned down with the rest of the monestary in the Analisin when it was raided five years ago.
There was a mystery here and she wasn't sure how it was going to unravel.

[Grim Jestor]

...Sunrise found the travelers a dozen miles from their meeting, subsequent flight, and dramatic confrontation of the previous evening. By the time the last nocturnal hunter had eaten its fill in the slowly-thinning forest which bordered this seldom-used road, and the last cautiously creeping prey had either found a place in the food chain or a safe burrow for the night, Kira had stowed her sword out of sight under a dark traveling cloak, and if Simon carried any weapons he had not shown them. In these troubled times, an openly-carried blade was an invitation for a fight with the wrong kind of person, which stalked and killed, but usually did not eat of the leavings. While at least one of them was obviously a warrior, a dagger in the throat or an arrow in the back would be a sorry end, especially before even properly beginning their journey.

But simple travelers, oddly enough, could usually count on being left in peace, especially if not alone and maybe only for the sake of curiosity. The strange spirit of animosity which seemed to hang over everything almost made an exception for those just trying to go about their daily lives, just trying to get from one place to another in one piece... for now, anyway. The way things were going, though, could only lead to open war if something was not done, and soon. The slaughter in the Analisin had only been the beginning of it, mistaken at the time for a slightly more organized than normal bandit raid, it had quickly become much more than that, a rout and finally a massacre of the poorly-defended towns and "fortresses" of an entire, formerly peaceful region. Now, it seemed like everyone was picking one side or the other, although Simon found it rather amusing to think about the fact that he could not have told one faction from the other except for the different colors they wore. The weary remnants of the king's guard fighting what at first appeared to be scattered groups of bandits and finally a full-scale peasant rebellion, although these peasants were armed far better than they ought to have been, turned into an uneasy truce as neither side could gain any ground, and both eventually went into hiding in their respective strongholds. The Old Guard, as some called them, kept to the highly-fortified castle-towns, connected by a network of well-maintained roads, but the wilderness belonged without question to the Faceless, a sinister but somewhat vague name chosen by the fighters themselves from the start of things.

Each side had committed their atrocities, and each in the name of that fictional nobility and justice which each side claimed to be the sole possessor of, although Simon was certain, when he thought about it, that both factions were equally wrong. There was something much deeper going on here, for since when was it noble or just to burn an entire family alive inside their home for the crime of being related to an opposing general? Or what about the time a whole village had been summarily run through because someone (he could not remember which side, but he thought it was the Guard) suspected that some of them were spies? Simon was sick of the whole business, and as they walked East he thought to himself, this may be our only chance, so we'd best get it right on the first try. If for some reason we should fail, and this seemed unfortunately very possible to him, with only one companion, skilled though she might have been, certainly no one else will pick up where we left off, but only loot our bodies and forget us...

[chiikurayami]

Kira stumbled as she followed behind Simon.
"Please," she said, speaking for the first time during their trek, "We must rest." The sun had reached it's apex high in the sky. Sh blessed the cover of the trees protecting them from the glare. They had walked nonstop for through the wilderness, always eastward, for hours.

Simon said not but stopped. Kira knew he probably begrudged the time that was wasted but didn't really care. Even he could not continue on forever, for all his secretiveness and mystery he was still mortal, wasn't he? She shrugged and sat with her back resting against the trunk of a tree, but did not close her eyes. She watched her companion, suspicious.

"Here," Simon said, producing a chunk of hard bread from under his cloak and breaking it in half. "There should be a stream near where we cane fill our water skins." Kira took it gratefully. "We will have to hunt for our next meal." He leaned against a tall oak opposite her. "You know," he said after a moment of regarding her, "You're going to have to trust me, at least a little."

"You don't trust me," she replied tersly. Simon allowed him self a quiet laugh.
"True enough, but if our minds our constantly locked in this needless battle with eachother than they will not be open to much else and we lose sight of our task and possibly our lives." Kira agreed.
"I would be more inclined to trust you if I wasn't certain you would put a knife in my back the moment I lost my, ah, usefulness to you and your master."
"So there is to be no trust between us?"

Kira regarded him for a moment, weighing her words before she spoke. "You know as well as I that in His service there is no trust. Simon nodded grimly. "And that is what makes us less than human," she added with a sigh.

"No," Simon answered, "That's what keeps us alive." Their eyes met briefly, and for once there was no mystery or hidden tales in their words, but only truth. A crow cawed over head and a silver dagger shot from Kira's hand so swiftly, Simon wasn't sure he hade seen her grab it from the sheath at her hip. It hit the crow, silencing it.

"Dinner," Kita said shortly as it's body hit the ground. In the dying light of the afternoon sun she closed her eyes. "That at least will cause him to hesitate if he ever decides I would no longer be of use," she thought, a faint smile on her lips.

[frosty]

outside in the graveyard an orphaned elf who was no more than 15 or 17 years old was trying to figure out how to enter the angel. "dammit frosty why didnt hide in a better location so you could watch as good as her. this could be a chance to help yuor hero, kira. and you cnat even get past a dam angel" she frustatedly talked to herself....exausted she slid to the ground leaning against the angel. her hand pressed against a stone and it moved...she jumped then realized this was how to enter. she moved the slab completely and crept down the stairs careful not to be seen. they were talking about something important taht she didnt quite understand. whatever it was frosty wanted in on the action

[Grim Jestor]

Simon watched Kira with some interest as she retrieved her kill, I did not even see her hand move... With a shiver, he stepped a little way into the thin forest which bordered their path, and came back with an armload of dead branches. Within minutes, a fire was blazing, and the bird tasted much better than a chunk of old bread. Simon looked across the fire toward the mysterious warrior, who would have to bear watching as this journey continued, "Aye, rest we shall have, for what use are a couple of travel-wearied vagabonds when the fighting starts?" Although he says nothing, he senses for some reason that they should... wait, if only for awhile. Something inside, near the very back of his mind, almost seems to insist on it...

...Meanwhile, back inside a tangled labyrinth of dead-end caves and bottomless drops, an unseen Wizard's Eye stared after the young elf, who for all of her youth and lack of experience appeared to be either very skilled or very lucky in finding just the right path to the other side. As the Eye followed, just out of sight, the elf stepped out into fresh air, and without so much as a pause to breathe took off running lightly down the path after the others...

[frosty]

frosty runs through the woods all night in search of kira. and comes acrss the camp as the finnish there meal. "Frosty's the name and im ready to be of service." she says with s sweeping bow. kira glances over the scraggly elf with her quiver hafl full and a tacky bow that looks as if its made of a twig and string. her armor is pathetic as well, leather shirt and pants that appear to have fin her 5 years ago. "what makes you think we need help from someone like you." frosty, still bowing, glances through her thick waiste long red curls. "well ummmm i ummm i can lend my bow and arrows....and i have no sword but i can use one well...and well im young but i grew up on the streets dont think youll have a whining child....i promise i will be no truoble and ill work for my food." simon thought the young elf would be a dead weight but somethignaobut her intreged him...maybe it was her emrald eyes or her hard core determination. "eat youll need meat on those bones if you wish to aid us," he said tossing the a leg at her. frosty ate her best meal in the past week greedily. "so what are we doing?"

[Grim Jestor]

A few minutes of low conversation later, the young elf knew as much of the story as the other two. That is, not very much at all. The sun was rising low over their path, flooding the clear air with the pale light of dreams and memories, not yet golden but a pure gray. On mornings like this, Simon thought to himself, one could almost forget that the world as we know it is tearing itself apart...

Somewhere nearby a water bird cried, long and loud like a woman's scream, and the sound of it set his nerves on edge in a way he thought was no longer possible, after working for so many years for such a master as his. The faint breeze brought with it a damp smell, like rotten vegetation and mud, either a stagnant pond somewhere back in the trees or a great swamp. He hoped it was the former, as he could not think of any worse place than a swamp to spend the day, but a certain determination had begun to set in with Frosty's arrival, a strange feeling that someone completely separate from the one known only as Him was pulling the strings this time. But something was still not quite right, and he could not get his mind wrapped around it so early in the morning.

In complete silence, something very much like an eye opened just out of sight among the thin branches of a young elm tree, and floated there watching the three travelers don their cloaks and walk away to the east from the carefully-hidden remains of the previous night's cook fire. Everything was going according to plan, except for the dark figure that moved stealthily into view, not expecting any kind of wizardry at this time of day, and followed quickly along, a little bit off the path but obvious in its intent. The figure was also covered with a cloak, and the watcher could make out no more details from so far back. Moving carefully closer, so as not to arouse suspicion from either party, the Wizard's Eye could see the female warrior, Kira, suddenly roll off the path to her right, and come up with a bright blade flashing toward their pursuer. Somehow caught completely by surprise, and the tables now turned, the follower lay on the ground where it now found itself, and appeared to be attempting to explain its presence...

[Aflyctus]

"Good woman, I mean thee no harm, allow me to explain myself!,' the cloaked figure exclaimed. "Your skills are as supreme as I was led to believe, Kira!" Kira, taken aback by his mention of her name, relaxed the grip on the blade. The figure takes this opportunity to push her away and jump up from his place of captivity.

By now, the rest of the party was aware of the happenings and had encircled their would-be pursuer... He eyes each of them, contemplating the situation. From Kira the experienced warrior, to Simon who was difficult to read but seemed to have foreknowledge of the situation, to Frosty an inexperienced elf who was having trouble keeping her bow trained on him.

"Yes, I know who the party's intended destination, and would like join your quest of salvation or to what ends it brings," the stranger continued. "Allow me to continue on with you for but awhile, and test my skills of survival."

Kira and Simon slip off to the side to converse while Frosty stands guard... Little did they know, had the stranger wanted to, he could have easily taken Frosty down with barely a sound, leaving the other two quite vulnerable.

The two rejoin their recent captive with their decision. "You shall join us for the time-being, stranger... But at least give us a name to call you by, be it your birth name or other," Kira proclaimed.

After a pause, he responds "You can call me Arcanu, and I thank you for allowing my company."

[chiikurayami]

Kira evaluated the new member of the party with a reserved air. It made her more than nervous knowing that it seemed people knew who she was and where to find her. She felt that, like Simon, this man was more than he seemed. This had been a big reason she had left His service. These secrets, disguises-- all shadows and lies.
Her thoughts were disturbed as she turned and threw the person closest to her and herself to the ground, hoping her companians would follow suit. An arrow wizzed through the air, hitting the tree besides which she had stood moments before. Cursing under her breath she scurried through the tall grass to the copse of trees. Standing, her back against one of the trees, she strung her bow and nocked an arrow. Glancing to her left, she saw that Simon had followed her and was holding his silver daggers ready. Taking a breath, Kira turned to the side of the tree and blindly let her arrow fly into the cover of the trees at the other side. There was a groan and thump as someone fell from one of the lower branches.
There was a moment of silence and then Arcanu's voice broke it. "It's one of the Guard!" he said, surprise and disgused mingling in his voice. Beside her, Simon cursed. Frosty looked on, perplextion clear across her face. Kira shook her head. "One thing after another," she thought with just a touch of exasperation.

[Grim Jestor]

"Where there is one, there will surely be more," Simon growled low under his breath, "the Old Guard do not like to leave the safety of their walls, and especially not alone..." He had barely finished speaking when the air around them erupted with battle cries, and figures in bright armor and dark cloaks could be seen rushing at each other from all directions.

Somehow, we have wandered straight into the path of a battle, the realization left him cold and somehow terrified, trouble follows us like the migrating hunters after the prey upon which they survive... He was not certain exactly what he meant by this last thought, whether they would be slaughtered here of if this was merely horrible luck, but he did not stop to philosophize any more. Looking around quickly, he saw that he was alone for the time being, the other three having quickly and furtively ducked out of the fray, and he followed them, unwilling to get involved in this battle on either side unless it became absolutely necessary.

Behind them, the sounds of steel striking steel rang loud in the early morning, and a short distance away they stopped under cover to observe this morning's newest danger. It could not possibly have been coincidence, but the question of the day was, which side was after them... or was it both? Disturbed that any among the fighting factions could possibly know of their presence or their quest, Simon cursed his ill luck and readied himself for a fight if such a thing was to be required...

[Aflyctus]

Watching from the shadows, Arcanu tightens his grip on the sabre that appeared from his cloak. As the battle progressed, his eyes seem to glow with anticipation of the outcome.

A little ways away, Frosty the Elf seemed unsure of the action to take. She kept her bow half-drawn and nervously glanced at the faces of her party members for any sign of the action to be taken.

Arcanu took a moment to observe Frosty, wondering whether she would make a good traveling companion. She seemed slightly high-strung, which could be disastrous during a situation such as this one. As a sword goes through the body of one of the old guard, Frosty seems to almost take action, but is able to hold back at the last moment.

Arcanu carefully shifted his stance to ready for the eventual battle.

[Grim Jestor]

As it became more and more obvious that they would not be escaping from here without fighting someone, Simon watched with tense interest as what looked like a small but violent skirmish between rival scouting parties unfolded. He had always found the name Faceless rather odd, for he had never actually seen one of their fighters, and the creepy mysticism the name suggested gave him the idea that it was all cheap charlatanism and trickery. The surprising thing was that he could not very well focus on any of the group which was fighting against the now badly-outnumbered contingent of Old Guard, except for fleeting shadows which seemed to dodge and swim in and out of his vision, and try though he might there was no way his eyes could pick out any one of figure...

Flailing about with their great shining swords, and protected under heavy armor, the Guardsmen would have been smart to remain in a tight group, each soldier watching his companion on the left and right, but their enemies' tactics were designed perfectly to entice them away from each other, certain that a quick lunge would mean a kill, and as he looked around Simon could not see even one cloaked body in the small clearing which had become, for the moment, the beginning of a dreadful slaughter. At first confident in their numbers and their apparent strength, the Guardsmen were going down one by one, their tactical advantage lost outside of their high stone walls.

Determined not to choose sides until he could get some kind of grip on the situation, Simon concentrated on remaining completely still in his place of concealment. Somewhere behind and above the clamor of battle he thought he could hear the far-off cries of some great animal, but could not determine what it could possibly be. The world was stranger now than it used to be, and with the growing darkness many things unknown had started to somehow creep in, as if someone had left the gate of this world open on a much different place. Philosophy and battle do not go well together, though, and it was only the sharp twang of Frosty's bowstring which startled Simon out of his reverie, and to his surprise, one of the Old Guard was suddenly sprouting a feathered shaft out of one eye. It was a good shot, or entirely lucky, and the twitching body which dropped in a clanking heap looked as surprised as Simon felt.

Almost before he noticed what his hands were doing, two thin, silver daggers spun noiselessly out from his place of concealment, and Simon wordlessly declared which side he would take by the satisfying swish and thunk of them both sinking into the back of a darting shape. It stiffened in mid-leap, as if comically surprised, and though still in some way dim became suddenly easier to see as it struck the ground, making no cry but expelling its final breath in a thin gasp.

Before anyone else could object to his sudden decision, Simon was in the thick of it, another blade in each hand and stabbing now that his cover was blown. Although this one could not have possibly looked like a skillful fighter, with his odd long coat flapping at each movement and wide-brimmed hat somehow still affixed firmly to his head, he moved with a dancer's fluid ease, almost fatally heedless of the battlefield around him. He could hear more arrows flying now, and after her opening shot Frosty appeared to be cutting down both sides indiscriminately, hitting a vital spot every time. High-strung though she may have been, she was some kind of expert with even a badly-made bow, and Simon figured it must have been the elf in her, surely not pure blood these days but stronger than he had thought upon their first meeting. He could smell something like smoke and burning flesh, and hoped it was not his own, although by now the heat of battle was taking him away to someplace... red. The sound of Kira's battle cry cut once through the haze, horrifyingly sharp and near, and then the redness took him, and everything was red until it was all over.

[Aflyctus]

Arcanu's apparent lust for battle seemed to cool as his companions rushed in. The fury that had danced in his eyes, the blood-rage, the anticipation of carnage... sudden relaxation, it seemed... as if his body had shut down...

From the forest, once again, there came another cry. From the brush, burst a massive wolf... unlike common gray wolves of the area, the fur was a silvery-white and the light of the morning sun shown off the protruding muscles. Though, what caught the attention of those that survived the impending carnage were the eyes. Those eyes.... Glowing with a rage beyond description... For an instant all eyes turn towards this incarnation... what was it, what was its purpose here? The question is quickly answered when the wolf bit off the arm of an 'old guard' frozen in fear. A small movement comes from the right of the creature...

Suddenly, Arcanu launches himself out of his trance atop the beast's back. Seemingly, this creature and its rider moved as one. Tearing at the ground with his claws, the beast would charge towards a group of metal-clad combatants while his companion launched a fireball. Once the group was destroyed through teeth and flame, they would turn towards another.

After laying waste to a small portion of the enemy, the wolf and rider separate from each other. The newest member of the party slumps over near the edge of the battle against a tree, while the wolf gives one last cry before slinking into the shadows of the forest. The summoning had taken its toll on the mage, nearly draining him of energy. He gives out a weak cry as he crumples to the ground.

[chiikurayami]

Kira watched Simon for a moment in exasperation. Did he have to get into the middle of this, she thought before she realized that her own sword was in her hand and that she had taken several steps towards the melee. She struck out at the Faceless forms that danced to-and-fro, never knowing if her blows hit anything vital or even caused them the slightest bit of pain. She watched Simon working among the chaos, slashing, jabbing, parrying with a grace that seemed almost missplaced. She glanced over at Frosty who was sure and quick in her attacks, but who was fast running out of arrows. The Guards were falling one by one, and, despite the added help they were receiving, their number was quickly dwindling. The odd thing was that, though Simon and Frosty had felled many of the Faceless, none of their bodies could be seen.

Kira repremanded herself for such superstitious beliefs. There was time to ponder these things later. Now was not the time. She caught one of the Faceless with her sword through the ribcage, then was forced to face another as it came toward her. She was slow pulling her sword free and the attacker's blade cut through her shoulder as she moved away. It was a small wound, but stung. She moved quickly to meet the Faceless who had attacked her, but than all movement in the clearing stopped. She just noticed the smell of burning.

Taking the moment she looked for her companions. Arcanu was laying on the ground near the copse of trees where they had been hiding. Frosty stood with her back to the tree, bow held poised, a wild light in her eyes. And Simon. Kira let her eyes wander the clearing. Where was Simon?

Something at the edge of the trees caught her attention. It was this that had made her and the others stop. It was a figure standing just within the shadow, it's hand raised. The Faceless began to tremble violently and then, in an uncharacteristic way, they left the clearing.

Kira watched them leave in wonder. When she turned back to the where the figure had stood, it was gone. She stood alone among the bodies of the fallen Old Guard. Frosty slid down the tree, looking more than a little fatigued. Arcanu still hadn't risen.

She searched among the bodies for Simon and finally found him, unconscious, but seemingly inharmed. She waited, unworried, as his eyes began to move under the lids and he slowly opened them. She was staring into the forest when he woke.

[ThaiMonkeyz]

She looked down sharply, started that he had awoken so soon. "Fear?" she asked incredulously, "What fear?".

"Yours.", Simon, or the not-Simon answered her with a vicious hiss. Kira scrambled away from the thing as is started to melt and twist in a cruel parady of a dying ghost.

"Get away!" yelled Frosty from far behind her, she vaguely stumbled towards the voice of her friend as she began to trip and stumble. So afraid. So afraid of.. of... of what?

A hard hand grabbed her arm. "Yaaaaahhh!!" she screamed and swept her sword at whoever, whatever it was. "Watch it!" yelled the real Simon as he was grabbing her arm, "We have to get out of here! NOW".

She looked over her shoulder. A mistake it seems.

[Darren]

Darren walks up, but slowly backs away from the scene going on.

[Grim Jestor]

Simon glanced once at the horror in the clearing, all melting flesh and bones steaming into putrid nothingness, and could understand immediately why Frosty was so nervous. What appeared to have been a perfect likeness of a sleeping Simon was now nearly gone, leaving behind a terribly burnt odor which hung in the air instead of dissipating as such a thing should. Almost as if it had taken a life of its own, the foul vapor shot off all in one direction, seeking the topmost branches of the surrounding trees, and was soon gone. Someone has called down powerful sorcery in this place, he thought to himself with a shiver, and not many living are capable of such things...

Suddenly desperate to be gone from this tainted ground, Simon repeated his demand, "Now, right now, we have to get going! Don't you understand what just happened here? The survivors can care for themselves, or die-- our only concern must be for ourselves and our quest at this time..." Simon's words were cut off as he saw the mage lying motionless on the ground, surrounded by bodies and the tracks of some great beast. Although not a mark could be seen upon Arcanu's body, Simon knew that he must be terribly exhausted, and could not even see evidence of breath. If Simon had known a little more about sorcery, he would have instantly recognized the Trance of Renewal for what it was, but for now it seemed to him that Arcanu must be near death. He was reaching for the inert form to pick it up and carry it when the eyes sprung open, and Simon recoiled as if struck.

They were making ready to take their leave when a new voice could be heard from the clearing. Standing there was the Old Guard captain with six of his men, all that was left of a much greater number. "Whose side be ye on, travelers? If ye would leave alive, thou must needs answer truthfully, for it seemeth to us that ye be weary, and no match against all of us..."

Simon looked around at his companions, knowing that although he and Kira had certainly killed only Faceless, the opposite was surely true of both Frosty and Arcanu. Although now Simon could remember very little of the battle, he seemed to recall at least that much of it... Besides, the bodies which had littered the ground where Arcanu laid had surely been all Old Guard, but he could not say for sure if a few Faceless had also died by that deadly hand. Facing the captain again, he tried to think of something to say, for surely he was too tired to fight any more, and staying in this place any longer could not be anything other than folly. Already the sun was shining through the trees on the clearing's west side, casting deep shadows, and if night fell without plenty of distance between them and this place, who knew what would happen? "What is it you would here of us, sir knight? Although our business is our own, you may ask us what you will-- if you speak quickly."

[Aflyctus]

"There shall be no questions! Ye knaves shall head to the executioner's block, nay the hangman's noose for this atrocity! Thy deeds weigh heavy against we Olde Guard," the caption proclaimed, drawing his sword. The few knights who survived the battle did the same. They all started to move forward, surrounding the party. As all seemed lost, Arcanu wearily shudders to his feet, still exhausted from the past fray. He grimly assessed the situation and decided to end the confrontation.

"You must realize, sir, that given the chaos of the battle mistakes could be made," he rasped. "You must also realize we were unsure and are still so as to who the enemy is. Our quest is not yours to delay. Doing so may cause more casualties to your already minuscule company." The captain suddenly seems taken aback as it dawns on him the chaos that was caused among his ranks by this hooded figure and his unearthly steed. He knew little about the works of magic and was not aware of the limitations of this mage's powers. What happened to his men in battle would already cause nightmares to this battle-hardened warrior due to the ferocity of the destruction. Added to this was the sudden gleam in Frosty's eye and the half-drawn bowstring.

Growing pale, the knight and his men back away from the group allowing them to head down the road, with Simon and Frosty supporting Arcanu in his weariness.

As they trudged along the winding road, the lingering thought rested upon their minds; for what reason had a battle commenced upon a forgotten road near such a well-hidden camp site? In a world of great magics there are no coincidences...

[ThaiMonkeyz]

They continued on down the road until Kira was sure they were not being followed by the Old Guard or anything else, when she was absolutely sure, they stopped and made a small well hidden camp just out of sight of the road, but they would still have a veiw of the cleared path.

"What.. What was that? That 'Simon' that.. melted?" asked Kira, shaking at the mere memory of the terrible apparition.
Simon just glanced at her, then grumbled something about firewood and disappeared into the gathering dusk. Frosty looked ashen for a moment then pretended like he had not heard whilst Arcanu, even through his weariness lidded eyes stared cooly at Kira.

"It was a gruesome image, from the Illusion school of magic, one which I am not quite a master at," he told Kira bluntly.

"But HOW did it get into the clearing? And where did Simon go when I was holding it? Why would someone cast such a thing?" Kira began trying to pry further information out of Frosty or Arcanu but they simply didnt reply.
She finally gave up and started rustling some leaves about for her to sleep on. Once laying down with a warm fire at her back she fell asleep nearly instantly, her mind's eye dancing with images of a melting Simon and someone far in the distance waving and shouting.. waving and shouting...

[Grim Jestor]

...waving and shouting, waving and shouting, someone is standing at the top of the ridge, trying desperately to get his attention, but he can't quite hear what they are trying to say, only knows that they are shouting something about...

...With a sharp snap in his mind, Simon thrust himself back into the land of the living, certain that he had not been either sleeping or dreaming-- but rather someplace else, someplace... different. Looking quickly around him, he could see that he was once again in the quick campsite from the night before, and although the others were still sleeping off the previous day's battle, dawn's first glowing light was gradually seeping across the sky like a great eye opening. Knowing that they should have already been on the road for some hours, he quickly roused his companions, saying nothing about his strange experience in the night. If it happens again, he thought to himself, I'll say something to someone...

By midday, the small band of travelers was far from the old forest, far from the scene of slaughter, and once again walking almost due east upon an ancient and disused trade road. They had passed into grasslands only slightly after the sun was fully risen, and now the suffocating trees with their dancing shadows and hidden threats were nothing more than a quickly fading memory. Simon could see evidence of plenty of wild life, and knew that for now hunting would be no problem. Other than the animals, though, he was certain that they were alone out here... for now.

...Far behind them, in a certain clearing still redolent with evil magic, something very much like an eye opens suddenly, gasping as if for air, and turns all about as if searching for something. Taking in the scene of rotting bodies, burnt and broken, as well as the essence of something... dark, the unseen watcher realizes that there is nothing more to see here, and the eye blinks and fades away...

[chiikurayami]

Kira watched as the others turned in and pulled her cloak closer about her. The northern winds were coming too soon for this time of year. She could almost feel the frost in the air. The fire was small, but no one in their little group wanted to chance anything bigger. She brought her knees close to her chest, feeling exposed in the open grasslands. The constellations danced over her head and though she enjoyed the vastness of the night sky above her, it almost made her dizzy. She could pick out the skeletal form of Cerin, the hunter of the sky and the maiden’s ladle.
Just in front of her she could just make out the deeper shadows of Senelm Pass and just beyond that she knew were the red mountains of Anthilin. At least they would be out of the worst of the winds there. It would take them most of the morning to reach the Pass, but they could probably be there before the sun reached its peak.
She thought suddenly of the sudden hopelessness this quest offered. They had nothing more than a trinket and an old children’s rhyme to guide them. If they hadn’t run in to the battle with the Faceless and the Guard and seen everything that had ensued after that she would have thought that He was playing with her, getting back at her for leaving his service.
As she turned her gaze from the heavens to the dying embers of the fire she was caught again by that uncanny feeling of being watched. She shook it aside. She had become as used to it as one can be having worked under Him for so long. She knew that he had spies and assassins and that even he would sometimes watch the progress of his servants. She shivered a bit, hoping that it was merely one of his underlings. The idea of having him this close was not a warm one.
Just above the Pass she could see the sky beginning to lighten. They would have to begin their march again if they didn’t want to be caught under the midday sun without any coverage. Kira watched as the sky in the east lightened and then turned to a brilliant orange and red with the rising sun. She roused the others and they ate a hurried breakfast before breaking camp and setting off.
The march was nothing more than a brisk walk. Kira grew less and less interested with the surrounding plains with each passing minute. Dirt, patch of crab grass, rock, dirt, small scrub brush…. Sigh. Kira turned her gaze skyward to be met by a plain of uniform blue, unblemished by clouds and broken only by the glaring sun. She thought longingly of the forests, where there always seemed to be a surprise around every tree.
The walls of the cliff grew taller and taller before them until the group found themselves under their shadows. The grey stones were cool and were most welcome to them after the harshness on the plains. The trickling of water met their ears and after a little searching they found a small spring. The water was cool and almost sweet to the taste. They drank thirstily, the water soothing their parched throats, and sat to rest among the rocks.
Kira laid back on one of the rocks and stared up at the rough rock walls of Senelem Pass and the vast blue sky overhead. The hopelessness she had felt the night before was vanishing, all she felt was a sweet contented peace. She noticed how lovely the grey and the blue blended in with each other.
Kira blinked and, leadenly, sat up. She had almost fallen asleep. She looked around. There was Simon, leaning against a rock and breathing softly, eyes closed. There was Arcanu sitting on the ground probed up by a boulder, his head was slumped against his chest. Kira lay back down on the rock. It felt so comfortable, almost like the beds at the inn, and she was so sleepy. She closed her eyes, it wouldn’t hurt to just rest a little.
A small noise awoke her. Night had fallen again. Kira’s senses had returned and she was alert. She cursed herself for having fallen asleep. Her eyesight was blurry and the moon was nothing more than a silver sickle, not lending much light. She could just make out shadows about her. Her hand went automatically to her sword and stepped toward Simon and Arcanu who were both standing poised and ready. Shadows surrounded them on all sides.
Almost in unison the other party raised their spears while the ones further back nocked arrows to their bows. By Kira’s count there were almost fifteen of them and probably more hidden among the rocks.
“Drop your weapons,” a voice hissed, “for you will not die a hero’s death here.” The figure who spoke stepped forward just enough for them to see him. He was pale, with a mane of lavender hair and orange cat-like eyes. His lips upturned in a feral grin. He wore a cloak, but appeared to be of a tall, slim build. Arcanu gasped beside Kira.
“Sylphs,” he whispered to his companions, “Do as they say, for they are masters of the blade and of sorcery.” He hesitated a moment and then dropped his weapons. “Do it! Otherwise they will kill us here and now, and I say this, you have not a fighting chance against these creatures. Obey them and we may still have a chance.”
Kira and Simon exchanged uncertain glances. They had only met the man and they still had little to no reason to trust him. Never the less they both knew that resisting would do little. Reluctantly they lowered theirs’ as well. One of the other sylphs leaped down from his rock perch and collected the company’s weapons. The one who had spoken was giving commands to the others in a singing language. Several others moved forward and began to bind their hands. At a warning glance from Arcanu, Simon and Kira stopped struggling.
“We will take them to Lord Nym,” the speaker said in common, “he and he only has the right to pass judgment on those who enter our territories.”
The Sylphs began to form marching ranks. They led the prisoners a little ways into the Pass and then into the opening of a well hidden cave. Kira watched with a little foreboding as the stars were swallowed by darkness and the air began to chill rapidly. No lanterns or torches were lit, it appeared that the creatures had no need of such things. They led on solidly while Arcanu, Simon and Kira stumbled blindly in the dark, continually moving down, down, deeper into the earth….

[Grim Jestor]

Simon, with his seemingly inexhaustible supply of odd silver daggers, laid down only the one he happened to be holding at the time, trying to clear his foggy mind and remember how he could have possibly fallen asleep in such a place. Strong enchantments protect the land of the Sylph, a voice-that-was-not-a-voice seemed to whisper in the back of his mind. Not knowing whether it was his own mind or something intruding, he paid it no more heed as he followed his companions down into the darkness. This strange one, Arcanu, seemed to know more about them than was good for a human, for other than the odd notion of someone speaking to him from far away Simon had never heard of such a creature, cat-man or something worse, maybe even from the Abyss itself...


No, from someplace far worse. The sensation of sitting in a tower room came to his mind, with the harsh winter wind creeping in between poorly-fitted stones, but it was not only Simon here. Around him sat shadows, silhouettes of people with no forms or faces, and they were all learning from some kind of sage, who could not be seen in the dimness. Shaking his head violently, Simon cleared his head of the vision, but at least he knew that he was not going crazy. Someone, somewhere, was trying to reach him... and he had no idea why. The unseen teacher did not emanate the same air of dread as their collective master, but who else could have any interest in this strange quest Simon had no idea. He could feel his face changing, the old scars disappearing to form the bland and somehow trustworthy visage with which he had first approached the warrior Kira what seemed like so very long ago, maybe even in another life. Among the many other things he did not know about himself, which he would never admit to any of the others, he did not have a clue why his face switched sometimes between that of a battle-scarred veteran and that of an honest but slightly dull tradesman. He could not remember what he really looked like, if it was either one, and decided to ignore that as well. The only thing he could not get out of his mind was that dream, the figure on the high ridge trying to get his attention, waving and shouting still in his memories. Was it a warning? Had he been warned of something, and still failed to stay awake when his friends needed him? As they walked down, further and further into the cave, Simon wrestled with himself inside his head, although it did no good other than to open his mind up to more from that far-off drafty tower. Say nothing of your errand, or of the master whom you all serve. It will mean your deaths if these ones discover why you are here. Simon, still not trusting the source of those strange words, decided to keep that information to himself... for now.


As they marched, silent feet followed after them, too stealthy for even the Sylphs to detect. Frosty the half-elf had somehow been missed, stepping aside after throwing down her fragile bow along with the others, and despite their great skill in war, woodcraft, and even magic... no one noticed as she followed after them, down into the darkness.

[Aflyctus]

Of everything thing that is to do with magic, the arcane arts, there is a limit. So it would seem to be with the barrier that was erected so long ago...

As they marched on, Arcanu could feel the slight disturbance enter his mind, like a liquid with a stone thrown into it, causing a ripple. Having set up a safety net of sorts, this was not completely unexpected. Simon would soon know the truth of his existence, or lack there of.

His thoughts soon wandered to his own absence of existence. The time between his foray and capture and been blurry, at best. Some areas becoming clear, while others were just fading memories that he could never grasp a hold of. He clearly remembered warning of the party of the Sylphs... but how did he know of them?

Ah, yes... his last mission for the master, maybe the don't remember or this could be another tribe... They probably include the incident into legend, by now... the many years that have passed should probably remove any beliefs from the tellings... who would believe that a single figure could manipulate a whole race to commit such an atrocity? He smiled slightly at the memories of his greatest game.

[Grim Jestor]

Simon thought he could see a faint glow ahead, although it could have just been his eyes adjusting to near-total darkness, and decided that they must be near the end of their journey. How much further down could they go, without passing the very roots of the mountain? As expected, the Sylph leader--if that one which had done all the speaking was the leader of this group-- called a halt, and the three prisoners (and one half-elf, hiding in the soft shadows cast by the light of some kind of luminous mushrooms) found themselves in a great cavern, mostly natural, but showing the marks of tools from long ages ago. The sylphs never built anything, but chased away or killed the original owners, in the dawn of the world... so long ago that they are convinced they have always lived here, in their ancestral home... Simon looked around cautiously, not daring to make any sudden movements, lest their captors misinterpret his intentions and search him. If they found the rest of his knives, surely they would not let him live. Kira appeared utterly at ease, still in control of the situation without any visible weapons, but Simon knew that she was ready to spring if the need arose. Arcanu, on the other hand, was muttering to himself as he looked sharply this way and that, but Simon could not make out any of his words, except for something about an atrocity of some kind... It did not surprise him that Frosty was nowhere to be seen, for all things Elven can disappear quickly, and can stay out of sight if they so desire.

The speaker continued, "Call for the Lord Nym, that he may judge these interlopers."

The rest of their guards took up something like a shared sigh, "Yess, the Lord Nym shall judge whether these ones be worthy of death..." Simon thought it sounded something like a ritual, but knowing nothing about these strange creatures other than what the voice told him, he did not know if they were about to be sacrificed to some dark god, or if it were something even worse...

[ferohers]

he watched them get led off, his eyesight only doubled in clearness in the night, he saw the sylphs hiding, and he knew, they would be taken captive, none of them had seen him, he was to enveloped in the trees, his brown hair with his solid black eyes, with green slits like a serpents. his skin was green with small veins like that of a leaf. He was built but not anyone of great stature, he didnt need strength, his mind was more powerful than any he'd ever encountered, and he was swifter than the river and wielded a weapon of great power. passed down from his father he wielded a staff, but it was not just any staff, it held nature in it, it was alive, he had been chosen to guard the forest, he had heard a bit of what was said between the figures. his hearing was perfect. he could hear the wind's songs and the tree's strories and all the fantastic things the forest had for him. All the things man had lost, in there foolish battles for land, they had forgotten nature and her kind ways, they only wanted to own her, they didnt care about her stories and songs, they just wanted the land to build on and to have for there own. and nature let them,so solemn in her ways, she wouldnt refuse her favorite creation, Man. so it was that man asked all of her, and she gave herself away and now this holy sanctuary for nature was left to him to guard, He knew that once he left the sanctuary, all the power she granted him would be gone, and his heart weighed heavy with the thought of this, but he would not refuse her request to help the strangers. Even if it meant losing his power, and life. He watched the little elf escape from sight, and smiled, although it was only half elf, it was still considered a brotheren of his, and he rejoiced to see it escape. he listened intently for natures bidding, when he heard the trees rustle and say to him "Save them matthias, go quickly!" and so he jumped from the tree and the branches moved away and gave him a clear path to the ground, he landed softly and with perfect finess. he walked behind them, watched them enter the cave, and slowely he followed behind, he saw the tunnel get bright, and willed himself to disappear just like frosty had done, but just before, he could have sworn he saw simon look right at him, but simon turned away, he hoped he hadnt seen him, but there was no way to be sure. So he waited, watching for the oppertune moment...

[Grim Jestor]

The caves were dark, but not completely, and from the place where they were being kept for judgment Simon could see a couple dark shapes moving back and forth behind the backs of their captors. The figures did not move as silkily as Sylphs, and he thought that he could recognize one of them as Frosty the half-elf... but the other was a mystery, although Simon was sure he had seen someone before who moved in that odd way, maybe in the dream or out of the corner of his eye somewhere...

...They were in a small chamber, with only one entry, illuminated faintly by the odd glowing mushrooms which are all the light that the mostly-nocturnal Sylphs ever needed, but which gave him the beginnings of a headache if he concentrated too long on any one piece of fungus. A single cat-person stood guard at the doorway, holding a great war hammer, tense and ready as if expecting all of his weaponless and tired prisoners to rush him at once. Simon knew that the party was in no shape for an attack, and hoped only that Frosty would hold off until a more opportune time, at least until the rest of them were nearer to some things which they can use for weapons... Frosty had been very useful in the past, but Simon knew firsthand of her impatience for action, remembering their fight in the clearing what felt like so long ago.

Simon was lost in his thoughts, trying to find a solution that did not end in a badly-outnumbered fight against this subterranean tribe, when it happened. A shuffling sound from beyond the doorway, carelessness... not the Elven way, something like a battle cry, but far too high-pitched to be anything other than a young elf child, and then... a hiss, the Sylph, surprised, reacted without thinking, ducking aside and swinging that great hammer with devastating efficiency. Simon looked around just as Frosty was lifted bodily by the blow and smashed against the wall, terrible surprise in her eyes as a jet of blood spurted from her mouth onto the floor, and then she slid down into a shapeless and quivering mass on the floor of their small chamber. The guard, surprised at his own action, appeared to go suddenly pale, and stood motionless, holding his weapon loosely and suddenly shivering as if in horror of what he had done. What did you expect, you fool? Simon went to where Frosty lay, covered in her own blood, and saw that she is trying to speak. Not dead, such a great blow and still not dead...


“Help me, please help me. I am afraid to die, don't let me die.” The spark of life which dances in the eyes of every elf was not yet entirely gone, but fading fast , and even though her torso had been readjusted by a mighty hammer-blow, splintered ribs thrusting out through her flesh like grasping fingers, she was still alive, eyes bright with pain, and still speaking. Why such a one had ever come on such a quest was beyond the ability of a mortal to comprehend, but now she was here, unknown fathoms below the ground, dying in this dark place where no elf should ever be. When an elf dies, it is like a candle going out, just a puff of cool air and a wisp of smoke. Not like this. For once, the voice in Simon's head sounded somewhat... human, not so cold as before. He did not pause to think of why, but rather bowed his head as a tear tried to force its way out of the built-up scar tissue around his eye. Alone in the midst of her human friends, Frosty the Half-Elf struggled to speak through the freely-flowing blood, “I never... never thought that it would end... like this.”


Glancing warily at the Sylph warrior who still held a great steel war hammer in his furry hands, Kira at first did not understand the shock that was plain upon his face, the shock and the horror of what he had done. But she was trying to kill him, trying to kill him so she could free us from this place. A hero to the last, but still the enemy of that one. So why does he display such obvious remorse?


It was a sadness to see Frosty like that, twisted and destroyed, lying there on the floor. There was truly nothing that Kira could say to comfort her, since humans know nothing about the cutting off of a life so long that it might as well last forever. Even a half-elf can expect to linger for centuries, fair and wise from beginning to end, as is the way of the elves of old, but it could not have been wisdom to send this elfling, of age by human standards or not, out into the world on what must surely be a hopeless quest. Only the words of a rhyme, some kind of tower and a dying sun... and of course a silver key, delivered without explanation by some kind of face-shifting psychopath... and now, a dead elf.


The mage Arcanu just stood there, showing no emotion whatsoever, and feeling nothing. A slowly-expiring half-elf lay there in the midst of their small prison-chamber, that place where the savage Sylphs had confined them to await the mysterious Lord Nym. Instead of wasting the his time in pointless remorse for the foolish creature, attacking a well-armed and bulky guard with no other weapon than the element of surprise, Arcanu's mind raced as he tried to find a way to turn this situation to his personal advantage, and maybe help the others in the group as well. Such a foolish attack got her exactly what she deserved, he knew, and better to use her death to get out of this place than sometime when it could mean the end of them all... Carefully studying the still-motionless and silent Sylph, Aracanu began to work out a plan of action.


At that moment, another cat-person appeared at the entrance to their temporary prison, and unable to miss the scene, shared a quick glance with the guard, and Simon thought he could see the same remorse upon the newcomer's face. The Sylph did not say anything, though, except “The Lord Nym has arrived. He will see you now. Please follow me.” Simon looked around again, to see that Kira had knelt at Frosty's side, and in her final strength the half-elf had grasped Kira's hand, as if looking for something to hold her in this world, and as Simon stood there she spoke her last words. “Don't let me go alone, please, come with me.”


But Kira answered, holding back a sob which Simon would have never thought to here from such a warrior, “This journey is yours alone, child, but know that our thoughts will travel with you. But we will all meet you there, before this is over, so wait there for us.” And letting go of Frosty's suddenly-limp hand, Kira stood, all traces of mourning completely gone, her face composed again into her usual mask. “She is dead. Let us now go and speak with this Lord Nym, and discover our own fate.” She led the way now, directly behind the messenger, while Simon and Aracanu followed a short distance behind, watched over carefully by Frosty's killer.

Simon looked once back at the Frosty's broken body, and then at Arcanu, and he thought he saw a quick smile play across the mage's face. He knows something, Simon thought, something that will make the death of such a young one not as meaningless as it appears”...

[Laurana]

She appears with a small, white flash next to the fallen half-elf; a figure wrapped in darkness. All but a fair hand lays hidden as she stands there. A silvery mist rises from the dead half-elf's body, and slowly takes on Frosty's shape, keeping the transparent, wispy form as it does so. The darkened one extends the visible hand; 'Frosty' takes it in one of her own. She and the figure vanish with another small, white flash. While those who glanced back might have seen the figure and Frosty's spirit, both of the entities are gone now.

Soon, Frosty's body goes cold, and decay and decomposition start their awaited jobs. Frosty has passed on.

[Laurana]

Not long afterwards, the figure can be seen again, inside the most high-security cell that the dark, dank place can offer. She appears to be shifting her weight from foot to foot repeatedly.

[Grim Jestor]

The caves were still dark, but for the occasion of a grand council many light-emitting mushrooms had somehow been moved into the same chamber, providing a dim but constant illumination over the gathered group. Together stood the prisoners, now reduced to a warrior, a robed mage, and... Simon, whatever he was. The three humans were surrounded by a ring of Sylphs, all bearing great and deadly-looking spiked clubs and spears. Quickly looking around, Simon could not see the hammer-wielding Sylph by whose hand Frosty met her untimely end, but he did see a strange shadow creeping through the sparse shadows, and realized that something was following them, and had been for quite some time.

Against one wall a thronelike chair had been carved into the living rock of the mountain's roots, and there, flanked by two particularly fierce-looking guards who each carried a great sword, wickedly curved and shining strangely in the dim light, sat the renowned Lord Nym. Nothing about him stood out any more than the others around him, except for the finely wrought silver crown he wore, curving over his brow and back behind his catlike ears, obviously very old and not made by any living race. Simon briefly wondered if it could have been made by dwarves, that long-dead race of diggers and crafters which were by now only campfire stories and myths... no one in these enlightened days truly believed that such a race as dwarves had ever lived, although from looking at the Lord Nym's fine crown Simon had to wonder...

Lord Nym gestured vaguely, and the ring around the prisoners opened, forming behind them to push them closer the the throne. Obviously he did not now fear attack, or else he was confident in the abilities of his bodyguards against weaponless humans, and they were allowed to approach to within mere paces of where he sat. Then, inexplicably, he stood and bowed down, and only then did Simon see that his eyes were wet with tears, his countenance that of deep sorrow. Something must have happened there, for such a one to show this weakness in front of his entire tribe and strangers...

Lord Nym, ruler of the subterranean race which called itself Sylph, spoke haltingly, completely different from what Simon would have expected from the chieftain of such proud warriors. "Our sorrow... cannot rightly be put into words. The death of this one of your company, this Elf, has injured us beyond your ability to comprehend. For you see, we were once elves, long ago when the world was young, or so teach our elders, so we consider the elven to be our lost brothers and sisters. The one who killed your companion has been exiled, I assure you, and I must beg your forgiveness for his terrible, though unintentional, deed..."

Simon barely heard the rest of Lord Nym's speech, as well-versed in the common tongue as the Sylph leader was, for it caught him completely by surprise. ..."Had she revealed herself immediately, you would have been received as honored guests, and left with rich gifts..." It did not occur to Simon that such virtue existed still in this dark world, where in the land above rival factions of humans committed horrible atrocities merely for the sake of being named rulers of a city or even a village... As Lord Nym finished, unable to choke out any more words, so great was his sorrow,

Simon looked around at his companions, and saw Kira as surprised as he, although Arcanu just stood there, that same odd smile upon his face. That one knew all about this, but said nothing. He could have saved Frosty's life with a single word, and yet did not. But why? Simon did not know, and preferred not to think about it. As morally corrupt as the mage may have be, Arcanu had already proved useful, but Simon did intend to raise the issue some time soon, once they found themselves above ground again... for by now, it was obvious that the Sylphen would not only give them safe passage through their caves to the mountain range's far side... but would also grant them anything else they might ask. He has his own reasons, this is certain, and woe are we if he finds our quest in conflict with his own interests... woe to us all...

Lord Nym straightened then, having spoken entirely while bowed to the ground, and gestured again. This time two of the Sylphen came forward, one carrying an object wrapped tightly in cloth, and another leading a robed figure by a rope tied around both its wrists. "Our sorrow can never be quenched, for we of the Under-Mountain tribe, as you would say it in your common tongue, will never forget our great mistake. I have two things for you, one a gift, and the other which may turn out to be a burden... but it is up to you, the only humans ever to pass through our mountains alive, to decide which is which." The first Sylph unwrapped what at first appeared to be a club of some kind, but on closer inspection was a sword in an ornate scabbard, richly jeweled and inscribed with strange runes. "I give to you, human female, the Death's Edge sword, taken from the body of a great general who tried to lead his army through our mountains long ago, in the dawn of time. It will grant you great prowess in battle, though surely one such as you is already well-known and feared, but you risk the loss of your very soul should it gain mastery over you... as it did its last master." Kira stepped forward and took the blade from the Sylph porter, and shuddered briefly as something like weak lightning surged through her, gone as quickly as it had come. "The Death's Edge is now bound to you, human female, and none other may wield it, lest turn upon him." Kira bowed perfunctorily, and accepted the blade. Holding it in both hands, she gazed upon the runes inscribed there, but said nothing.

Lord Nym gestured again, slightly different, and by now Simon figured that they must have some kind of sign-language that no outsider could interpret, for the other Sylph brought his captive forward, the robed figure which did not resist the pulling on its bonds. "This sorceress came into our caves, uninvited, some years ago... and despite our best efforts we cannot dispose of her as we would like, nor submit her to our will. She is dangerous, for sure, but it seems to me that she could have destroyed us all if she so desired... and still might. She has been with us for this time, waiting, maybe for you three, and I would send her with you as much to help or hinder you on your quest as to be rid of her ourselves." The Sylph Chieftain paused for a moment, and then spoke for the final time. "My scouts will take you to the other side. Now, begone. And may our blessings go with you, if that alone may atone in any way for what has become this tribes greatest shame..."

True to his word, the lord Nym sent reliable scouts to show them the way out, and as the four of them neared the exit the Sylphs disappeared down side-passages, as silent as shadows. Upon emerging again into light, they were blinded briefly by the brightness, but soon adjusted and set up a crude camp still high in the foothills. At sunset, they struck camp and began again to walk...

Unseen, a silent figure followed them.

[Laurana]

She remains silent throughout being brought forward and given to Simon and the others. Despite her calm actions (as calm as one could seem while hidden with a cloak), bloodlust and hate seem to radiate from under the hood, directed at the captors. Ineffectual but intimidating it prevails to be, as the other end of the rope binding her is handed to Simon. Together they all leave, but on the way out, she turns her head and sticks her tongue out at Lord Nym.

[ferohers]

ferohers saw the little elf die, and suddenly rage welled inside him, he let the others go, and followed the guard inot the outside world where they told him to leave. Then making himself visible, he walked up to the guard, the guard looked at him, and fell to his knees trembling, "Forgive me" he sobbed. But matthias didnt hear it, he raised high his staff and said "you have been weighed, you have been measured, and you have been found wanting, Now depart from me, you cursed one, into the fires prepared for the ones who hell itself DOES NOT WANT!". Then he brought down his staff, and lightning followed it, and struck the sylph, he screamed in pain and writhed, slowely being cooked from the inside out, but matthias just watched him, he deserved it, and matthias wouldnt let him go unpunished. he then went into the cave, and saw the witch they so wrongly called a sorceress being handed to simon. he waited til they had gone then became visibla again. he approached lord nym, he to fell to his knees, then slowely arose, and looked at matthias, he needed not say anything, Nym looked into his eyes, and mathias nodded his head, Lord Nym to nodded his head, then matthias spoke, i need armor your majesty and a sword of power with which to fight, i must protect these travelers as it has been tasked to me, i leave the sanctuary to you, my brotheren. Lord Nyms eyes welled with tears. He embraced matthias and then nodded to his guards they returned bearing silver looking armor, though it looked solid it also seemed to flow, "Dwarvish gods wore this armor, they say the bearer of it, can never be harmed by any mortal being. and here is a samarian blade, refined in the fires of hades, this blade will kill even the most magical of creatures, why do you need these?" the Nym Asked "is your staff not enough?", Matthias smiled at his old friend, "The staff must stay with the sanctuary, I leave it to you, and once i leave, all of the mothers powers will depart from me, and go to you. farewell my friend."

As he exited the cave he used his ability to blend in again, but now he was wearing armor and bearing a sword, it was much harder, he felt his powers departing him, he soon caught up to the band of travelers. He simply followed. waiting til he was needed, listening to the songs of the wind, and the stories of the trees.......

[Laurana]

As the party goes along, she bides her time, silent. Waiting until the time comes when her bonds will be removed. Oh, she will enjoy that time. Until then... a dark enigma she remains.

[Laurana]

Her eyes close; she senses yet another life end, far away, back the way they came from. To herself, she whispers, barely audible, "An eye for an eye leaves the world only blind... Justice and revenge bear invisible barriers 'tween each other... Blah... Blood blood blood..."

[Grim Jestor]

The travelers walked a good distance into the daylight, and finally Simon turned to his captive, producing a wicked-looking silver dagger without appearing to move, and deftly cut the sorceress' bonds. "I will lead no other human bound, like a pack animal, lest I become an animal or a savage myself. But know, woman, that if you would become enemy to Simon of Northlands... he will have your blood, in this life or the next." With that said, he turned abruptly and began again to walk, not asking her name or anything else about her, for it was obvious that he cared not at all for such details. Let her tell you what she will, and your quest will fail yet... get ye Eastward, mortal, or doom yourself and all those who travel with you... Simon set a fast pace, walking now into the sun which shined not-quite straight down, determined to keep going even until the sky was red on his back with no rest. There had been delays enough already, and though he knew nothing of the land beyond the great Eastern Mountains, his path was clear: East, always East, and nothing else... the presence he had felt while still underground and just after exiting had faded somewhat, almost as if whatever was following had stopped for some reason. Simon put it out of his mind, and continued to walk.

[Laurana]

While she says nothing, a smile spreads across her mouth as her bonds are cut. She yearns to talk on and on, but knows it won't do her any good. Therefore, she decides to just go with the flow. She's been waiting for ages for these guys, so things are going well, considering.
As the troop keeps on walking, soon the weather turns foul. Based on everything that has happened so far, it is questionable as to if it's possible the Gods are trying to heed them on their jouney as well.
She picks up her speed to walk alongside Simon, feeling the most attached to him despite the warnings in his messages. Before long, rain starts to pour. Such a sudden rainfall is not expected to be natural, but the group stays wary, not altogether on guard. After all: there's no proof it's actual danger.

[Aflyctus]

Arcanu holds back from the rest of the group as they continue along to consider the new party member. After the carefully orchestrated mention to their captors that there may be somebody following them, things had not gone as planned. Though Frosty had been eliminated, it seemed they the newest member was almost as annoying... Though she wouldn't be as easy to deal with.

He could sense Great power within this one, and undoubtedly her feelings on how it was used were not quite aligned with Arcanu's. The fact that Simon approved of her did not sit well with this brooding figure. As they walked along, Arcanu wonder how many more shadowy figures were waiting on the fringes to upset this mission and its occupants. Losing control of such a situation was not to his pleasing.

[chiikurayami]

Drip. Drip. Clouds had formed in the sky during there interlude in the caverns and now they were just beginning to drop their burden. It began with small drops that vanished from the bared cheek it had fallen on so that one scarce noticed. Then it began to fall harder, so that tiny pools dotted the sun backed earth under the travelers’ feet. Thunder clapped loud overhead and reverberated off the rocky walls. The wind kicked up. Even within the protection of the bordering cliffs, it whistled shrilly against the company’s ears, biting at the tender flesh on their exposed faces.
Kira stopped the small party and suggested they get out of the rain. There was no use making good time in this weather and it only seemed to be getting worse. Simon gave a disapproving look, but followed as the rest of the company clambered up some of the rocks to one of the many caves that honeycombed the cliffs. Out of the rain and wind the companions found little comfort. The day had become chill.
Simon looked out of the opening to the storm raging outside; the rain was falling so hard now that the valley was flooding, the torrential downpour created a veil so that the other side of the valley’s passage could hardly be seen. For a moment Kira stared at Simon’s back. He had been her fellow since this had started and though she could not guess what was on the mysterious companion’s mind most of the time, she knew what he was thinking like he had screamed it, for it was on her mind as well… This “quest” had generated more questions than answers thus far. Every turn they took down the road only brought more questions and there didn’t seem to be an end in sight. She could almost feel the frustration and exhaustion coming from Simon.
And there it was again. That flash of presence. The eyes that never sleep. Always watching, always waiting, always wanting.
Kira sighed and sat down as Arcanu set about preparing on of his witch fires. She cast a suspicious glance at their new travel companion. She did not like the way this woman felt. There was something, something set off in her, something not right. She looked away as she unbuckled the Death’s Edge from the baldric strapped across her back.
Her eyes wandered across the exquisitely wrought hilt. This was a sword of legends, of ill omens, whose story had been told from Andirin to the most southern desert plains of Dyrinam. And it had come to her hands. She grasped the hilt and felt that strange electric feeling she had had when she had first received it. It pulled at her conscious, called to her, entreating. Kira held her breath, it had chosen her after all, and pulled the sword from its sheath.
She let go of her breath as she laid the naked steel across her knees. It was like no blade she had seen nor felt before. The edge was razor sharp, surely something no mere human craftsman could design. Elven script wound sinuously down its length and just below the surface, Kira could feel the spells worked into the metal. She could almost see them dancing upon the blade’s reflective surface. A weapon from the bloodiest time in all known history, she thought, unable to take her eyes if it, A weapon whose previous owner now guards the gates of Death, who created the most atrocious of crimes and was finally betrayed by that which he relied on the most—this very weapon. With a shiver she slid it back into the sheath.
As she did so, something fell out of the scabbard. A folded piece of parchment. Carefully, she picked it up and unfolded it. Inside, written in immaculate looping letters, Kira read:
“Always watched,
Yet all this mystery,
Nothing is as it seems
When even a pauper can
Disguise himself in the robes of kings.
What is magic and illusion
When we draw our own conclusions?
Why believe only what we see
When those of oath hide themselves in thievery?”
She read it over three times, her eyebrows knitted, until finally she called those around her to look at it too. After having read it, no one said anything. As always Arcanu sat apart from the rest, contemplating the new information. The new woman didn’t seem to take much interest. Simon read it over once more.
“But what is this supposed to mean?” he asked, his eyes scanning the words for some hidden message, some evasive code. Kira looked down at the paper once more.
“Always confusion and lies,” she said, sighing once more, “Friends go disguised and the honourable are playing at deceit.” She shook her head. “We have yet to meet Lord Nym it seems.”

[chiikurayami]

out of character announcement:

I have seen there are some new people here, so I think it's time to lay out a few ground rules to live by na? Please, it is important you read all posts, not just the few before the end, if you haven’t done so than please go back and do so. Stick to the storyline, no crazy things like-- And suddenly these purple aliens with super mind reading powers and laser beam eyes attacked the party in flying teacups-- that just won't fly here. Please use spelling (all computers have a spell check so even if you are a terrible speller that is no excuse). I will not allow posts that are less than five sentences. Sorry. They don't usually add to anything and are more clutter than anything else. I will let a few slid, but I won't be happy about it. I will ask you to leave if you are being detrimental to the story. That's just the way it goes. If you have questions or comments then please pm either Grim or I. If there are any other rules I will post them later, but as of now, I can't really think of any else.

So yeah, welcome and have fun na ja?
-- Chii Kurayami

[Laurana]

Beneath her hood, the newest companion can't help but smile at catching Kira's suspicious look from the corner of her eyes. She sits on her own, just a ways away from the dark-seeming mage she doesn't know yet. It's not like she wasn't expecting suspicion towards her end, though. Especially after one of their number seems to have recently died.

She continues to sit silently, used to falling into such habits while she had been held prisoner. The hours start to tick by, yet the rain refuses to stop pouring. Kira and Simon talk amongst each other.
While she's a bit curious as to just who 'Simon' and the other woman are, her curiousity seems to fix itself on the mystery mage. Or is he not really a mage? Questions upon questions pop into her head, yet she remains silent. Who is that man, and where does his magical preference lie, she wonders... He seems quite powerful, but it's apparent by the way he carries himself and watches the others that he's a 'withdrawn' type of guy... Mayhaps he just doesn't want to share all the knowledge he no doubt has stored away in his mind...
She guesses for now that he's probably one who favors the darker area of magic. That'll prove interesting in the future, she thinks in the depths of her cloak.
She notices now how it seems to her that everyone has so many questions they don't have answers to. Their destination remains unknown yet to her... but she knows it'll be something big. This thought excites her, and she finds herself glad she chose to come with them...

While they remain in the cave, it feels to her as if there's someone --or something-- looming back in the darkened pits that the fire can't seem to stretch far enough to illuminate. She decides it might be best if she doesn't try to see it, either. Whatever is back there has yet to attack, so she doubts it means them harm. Perhaps it is simply a native of the cave... then again... The days here are dark. One cannot really know what lies just beyond one's sight. A hidden entity; an enigma only slightly more realistic than the fear that springs to the hearts of those who see things they do not understand. She wants to pry into the darkness, to see who it is that's following them... but resists the urge.

It takes a great deal of self-control to not sink into her own thoughts, and instead she turns her head to watch Arcanu, as silent as he is. Time ticks away as they wait for the raging storm outside to end --or at least lessen in its fury. "..."

[ferohers]

Matthias loomed in the back of the cave, although he was thankful to be out of the rain and wind, he was still cold and felt weak after leaving the sanctuary but, he wouldn’t make himself known yet. The time would present itself he knew, so he patiently waited in the back of the cave. The mage sat away from everyone else. Arcanu was what they called him; Matthias remembered a mage with the same name. But he was merely a legend; surely this Arcanu was just a mock of the legend. But something told Matthias differently. Something else troubled him, the witch they now had with them was surprisingly calm and quiet. She had caused much trouble for the sylphs and yet acted almost fearful to act in the presence of these Warriors and Legends. The one they called Kira know had the sword Death’s Edge, “expect great things from this one” the wind whispered to him. This would be a journey not soon forgotten by legend he thought to himself, “Matthias the Warrior” the name seemed to give him strength, he allowed it to sink in. One day, he thought, men will speak of the heroic deeds of Matthias the advocate, who became “Matthias the Warrior!”

[Grim Jestor]

The fire gradually died down, shadows deepening around it as the cave's natural darkness encroached upon the light more and more. Simon sat, watching out into the night, hoping that their mysterious captors where not even now launching an attack force capable of wiping out this small and lost party of adventurers completely. Until now, they had been lucky, always with luck or coincidence on their side, and except for Frosty's unfortunate death had suffered very few casualties... But Simon did not expect their luck to hold. Thus, he sat up watching while the others slept, knowing that he would rather spend the next day's march in weariness than awaken to the cold steel of an assassin's dagger pressed into his throat, or the sickly feeling of his warm life's blood flowing out of an unstoppable wound.

So intent was Simon upon his thoughts and the dark lands outside that he did not even hear the danger already within the cave creeping up behind him until it was nearly too late, saved again by mere luck: the intruder must have kicked a small rock, and the sound was enough to jar Simon from his reveries, sending him spinning around, a wickedly sharp knife already in each hand... but there was no need. The stranger stood there openly, oblivious to all sneaking and hiding, merely a quiet walker... or a ghost or ancient spirit. Its armor was certainly archaic, for Simon could not remember ever seeing such garb in all of his life, and the sword which was still sheathed at the stranger's side was also ornamental and strange in design. Simon knew that if this stranger had intended harm, some if not all of them would have already been dead or grievously wounded, and so he allowed his knives to disappear again, and relaxed his posture.

"You have been following us since we were taken in the mountain pass. Do not lie, stranger, or you may regret it. But are you sent by the Sylphen, to murder us in their sleep and conceal their secret, or by the unknown Lord Nym himself?"

The stranger appeared to consider carefully its answer before replying...

Near the cave's entrance, unnoticed now that the sentry has been distracted, something very much like an eye opens up, although no face can be seen to which it belongs. If one were listening closely, the whisper of a voice might have been heard, "Have found you again, my servants, my pawns... but how have so many survived, despite all of my plans?" As if suddenly realizing that it speaks aloud, the voice stops in the midst of its musing, and the eye blinks once, and vanishes...

[ferohers]

The Elf answered truly “My name is Matthias the warrior; I have followed you since you entered my mothers shrine of peace. I have been tasked to help you in your quest, what ever it may be. I am your loyal servant, you have my sword”. He looked back at the man, his features where completely unreadable. he just waited for a response, finally the one called Simon responded.

[Grim Jestor]

The deep silence of the cave shattered, the others came quickly awake even as the intruder made his declaration, which though noble told almost nothing about himself. Simon saw Kira's hand upon the hilt of Death's Edge, that infamous blade of old, as the two magic users stood there calmly... Simon was sure that they each had powerful spells available if this stranger should prove to be an enemy, but Simon doubted that such would be necessary.

"You should not off your sword to me, elf, for I am an evil man, and I serve They Who Walk in Shadow."

The one who called himself Matthias the Warrior could not stop his eyes from widening slightly. They Who Walk in Shadow, sworn enemies of all that is good and pure in the world... did the others even know what kind of person they had accepted into their midst? And why was this man Simon declaring his allegiance so openly, if the others did not serve the same or similar dark masters? Matthias immediately regretted offering this man and his strange friends his services, even if the Spirit of the Forest had ordered him to do exactly that. But it was too late, anyway... It was never the Elven Way to go back on one's word, and Matthias took that custom to extremes. He said nothing.

Simon struggled to keep from grinning, knowing that his words had thrown Matthias into great inner turmoil. He decided to press the game as far as he could, just to see what would happen, to test perhaps not only one but maybe more of his companions...

"Very well, Matthias the Warrior. If your sword is truly mine... then execute this sorceress... But make sure you act quickly, for I hear that she can be quite deadly when fully awake..."

[ferohers]

Matthias had let the fools sherade go on long enough. "I didn't expect one so foolish as you to understand my pledge. I pledged my unearthly blade to your cause, not you, you cowardice fool. I awnser to a higher power than you could even begin to fathom, you would do well to remember that. Besides what kind of man needs an Elf to conquer a meer sorceress. Is it perhaps that one such as yourself, couldn't handle her. Simon the Coward, the name doth fit you all to well. " Matthias finished, not knowing where this sudden hatred for the one called Simon had come from. But glad that it had. He stood his ground and waited for his words to take effect. His mind ever vigilant, his hand on his sword handle. A smile spread accross his face. He could sense himself wanting Simon to attck him. He knew he could fight him off and slay him if necessary. But the one called Kira was far more a threat. Not even his blade could match Death's Edge. Her combative skill mixed with a sword that conquered empires, he knew if he fought her, he would fall to her blade. And so he waited for Simons responce.

[Laurana]

Under the hood, the unknown traveler can't help but smirk. After a few more moments in the dreadful silence, she chuckles. Not once does she move to stand, strike, or defend herself. She simply keeps on sitting.

What an amusing little bunch, she thinks to herself.

They speak of me as if I'm some sort of tool... a toy that can be desposed of whenever one becomes tired of playing... A caged animal that's perfectly harmless behind the bars that bind it...

[Grim Jestor]

The cave was cold now, with not yet even the ghost of dawn to the east, but the fire inside of Simon raged. This stranger, this intruder, this elf... dared to call Simon of Northlands a coward? But he knew that he could not be goaded to rage by the words of an interloper, even this insolent Matthias, and allowed the cold outside to sink into him, wrapping his inner fire and dimming, yet not completely extinguishing it. Simon stared at the elf, trying to guess what Matthias would do next. Dressed in that antique armor, and with the sword of Dwarven craftsmen... he thinks himself invincible. But a thin blade can penetrate plate mail, which would reflect even the greatest swordstroke... Simon made his decision, and two thin silver daggers appeared in his hands as if by magic.

"Your challenge I accept, elf, even though I would not see yet another of your noble people die so soon. It will be with sorrow that I commit your body again to the earth, but your foolishness has deemed it necessary."

With the talking finished, Simon muttered a single word, unheard by any except the one for whom it was intended, and somewhere off in the darkness... something very much like an eye blinked open, watching... Unheeded by those who did not know of its presence, the wizard's eye would show all to its master, and this dark master would not let his servant die, would not let his servant fail in his quest... until it suited the master's purpose, of course.

Simon flexed his forearms, gripping both blades securely, and in only an instant assumed a mixed offensive and defensive posture, and with no more sound than a whisper of the wind... Simon of Northlands rolled into attack, launching himself at his new enemy with both blades aiming for Matthias' heart. As he attacked, Simon knew that his adversary had not expected this, despite the challenge. He wanted me to back down, did not really want to fight... but why? It was too late to answer his own question. The battle was joined.

It was too late for anything but bloodshed.

[ferohers]

Matthias smiled, he couldn’t help it. This Simon fellow actually deemed himself worthy to attack him. He drew his sword and raised it. “Metrion Synthos” Matthias didn’t know where the words came from but as he said it, he raised his hand to Simon, and a blast of chains laced with Fyre enlaced Simon. And he fell to the ground, immobilized. “I do not wish to kill you, but if I must, so be it”. Suddenly a strong gust of wind came through the cave, pressing Matthias against the wall. “Release him Matthias” Rang a voice on the wind. “Your wish is my command” whispered Matthias with much resentment in his voice. He waved his hand and the wind died down, and Simon was released from his unearthly chains. Again Simon rose and took a stance of attack, but Matthias to was ready. “Death awaits you, coward” hissed Matthias; he leapt forward with unearthly speed, his sword flying true and swift. His blade glowed and Matthias felt his eyes turn red with the blood lust.

[Laurana]

There's a bright flash inside the cave, before it all plunges into darkness. The lights gone out. Before Matthias's sword hits, a rock from the cave floor connects with the blade, knocking it just far astray enough to not hit. Wary that his opponent has struck without his knowledge, each fighter takes up a defensive stance. In between the two opponents, a voice speaks up for the first time. It's definitely from a female, a steel edge that can only be described as a woman's scorn in her voice.

"None of you can afford the loss of a potential party member... Or are you so quick as to want to lose yet another?"

The lights from Arcanu's fire again comes to life, and the hooded figure is revealed to be standing between Matthias and Simon. The rock in her cloaked hand that was used to stop the newcomer's blade falls to the ground. Despite still staying firm, the rock has a rather deep scratch in it, deeper than most blades would cause.

"Pointless bickering leads to pointless deaths, and we could all use more allies. He's here to join our cause. That should be good enough, I believe. And if he so wants to furthen 'our cause', he'll realize that we need all the help we can get, and attacks on already steady companions won't help him any. To Simon, he too should realize this. If Simon is so unhappy about slaying another elf, then he can simply not do it. Neither of you are completely at fault, but that doesn't mean this can't be avoided. You both should simply... cool down."

[chiikurayami]

Kira watched the action between the two challengers with an almost distant air. She knew that most mortal men were no match for the likes of the elves, but as she contimplated it, she realized she didn't really even know what Simon was. She held her tongue as they argued, but as the sorceress' last words died in the cave she rose to speak.
"If your intentions are true elf, you have not done well to show them. Stalking us unbeknowst and then threatenng one in our number does not speak well of your charcater. Prove to me that you are worthy and I will not kill you the first chance I get, for you have not given me any reason to do otherwise." She turned to the sorceress. "And it would be well for you to learn your place. You may have at your command many arcane powers, but you are still made of flesh and blood. Remember that. And Simon, please try not to threaten those who offer their service... even if they are more than a little suspicious. The rain has not yet abated and I think we should begin setting up watch so that no other intruders like this one here."
Kira took up the first watch as the others grudgingly turned in once again, the elf offering only slight protests. She barely moved as she gazed out at the bedraggled night. She knew that as she looked out something was watching her and she didn't care to think about it even though her mind rarely left the subject. It made her antsy and irratible. She knew that feeling and knew that it could only be from the one whose service she had left long ago. The one whom she found herself working for once again. She cursed under her breath at the foolishness she was displaying, but the words were lost to the rain and the night.

[Laurana]

A smirk passes her lips under her hood, looking at the female warrior.
"Ah, yes, 'my place'..."
She chuckles softly, again going to sit where she previously was. At this point she knows that there's no point in trying to get back to sleep. It wasn't very easy sleep in the first place.
So instead, she sits and eyes the group from inside her cloak. Her thoughts stray to how even stopping the blade with the rock jarred her wrist, the stinging yet not fading. She ponders on how interesting the party is as she sits, silent still.

[Grim Jestor]

The crisis averted, Simon returned to his sleepless position of watch, determined to stay up and redeem his earlier failure at detection. None would have blamed him, for the skills of the elves surpass mortal men, but Simon still blamed himself. Along with the shame of being bested in combat and saved by the others from certain death, he had plenty to think about as he sat at the cave's mouth, peering into the rain as it gradually lightened and turned to mist before blowing away on a light breeze.

If any of the others had been awake, Simon might have been seen handling a small silver charm and whispering into the night as he sat, nearly motionless.

I have failed you, Master.

The mysterious mind-voice answered him, and again Simon had the vision of sitting amid other students in a high tower, a cold wind somehow finding its way in through cracks in the rock, as a great but shadowy teacher spoke wisdom and instruction.

It is for me to decide when you have failed, Simon of Northlands. You have a short time yet, but serve me faithfully, and you will be rewarded with your freedom in the end.

I will not fail you, Master.

Failure is death in eternal servitude. You have chosen to serve me of your free will, but fail and you shall truly become my puppet, dancing upon the strings.

Yes, Master.

It was unfortunate that none were awake to notice this odd exchange, for if someone had heard, or even seen it in a dream... much sadness and tragedy could have been averted.

When morning came, the sun's rays woke them, and this odd party of travelers went on into the East, to discover what might lie there in the lands beyond the great mountains. As they left the cave's relative safety, something very much like an eye blinked once and disappeared. Things were going exactly according to plan...

[ferohers]

“As you wish” Matthias spoke quietly, He lowered his blade and looked solemnly at Kira. She and she alone held him in place; he looked over to the sorceress. The one who so foolishly put herself in the way, and then to Simon “you’d have been dead before your stroke fell, Coward” he hissed at him. Then a twitch crept up to his lips and he smiled at Simon. Simon looked furious and all Matthias could do was smile at him. Matthias knew that Simon would have fought well, but the winner would have been undoubtedly Matthias, and Simon knew it. Matthias sheathed his sword, the jewel on the hilt shined in the arcane fire. “I apologize for not revealing myself before, but by the welcome I have received, I do not regret it. As for my intentions, I intend to complete the task set before me.” He bowed his head in form of respect to Kira, and then walked to a rock against the wall of the cave. He sat on it and closed his eyes letting his mind rest, but not sleeping. As his mind wandered he heard whispers on the wind. But he ignored them, they were not the spirits of the earth but rather mortal words spoke by mortal men. When sun shone through the cave he opened his eyes feeling rested, then he opened a small pouch on his hip and drew out a small fruit. He bit into it and his mouth filled with pleasure, it was sweet with a little bit of sour in the aftertaste, he finished it and then tossed the inedible remains into the forest. He stretched and yawned; as he walked he listened to the songs of the trees, and the wind. They seemed to turn sadder the farther east they went and he wasn’t sure he wanted to keep going. He wouldn’t let fear grip him, for once it has planted its seed it would consume him. So he listened on, smiling and whistling along with them, but constantly vigilant waiting for the next strike of excitement on the small party of travelers.

[Laurana]

The 'foolish sorceress' remains silent as the party again starts their traveling, walking near the middle of the group. It doesn't honestly surprise her that her actions are merely recieved with words of warning and general disapproval.

Obviously, she isn't trusted at all yet... But then again... how far can one trust a woman who has yet to show even her face?


The sun at last peaks the mountains, rewarding those under it with at least some warmth. A few clouds lazily drift by as the travelers go onward, only now and then exchanging a couple words. Everyone seems to be absorbed in their own thoughts.

[Grim Jestor]

After spending the sleepless night staring into the rain, Simon walked as if in a trance, fading in and out of consciousness but still walking, never veering from his course, straight East. His pace was not fast, and he found himself walking near the back of their small group, although every time he woke up again he hurried to not be left behind, and to not be noticed in his weariness. Simon seemed to remember a time when he could stand awake for days with no effect, but along with the loss of almost everything else he had also lost this ability, and thus could not keep his mind on their journey. Every time his mind lapsed, Simon seemed to see a figure up ahead, waving him on, urging him to keep walking, to get over the next rise and see the other side... but snapping awake again, the figure was always gone, and each time he shook off the memories like a dream.

As the day wore on, Simon's unnatural sleepiness took over more and more, and although he somehow managed to sleepwalk at a much higher speed than before, his waking moments came fewer and further between, and he began to walk as if in a dream, saying nothing to anyone but muttering words which no one could hear, low and under his breath. The figure was ahead now, but not so far away as before, and it called to Simon to hurry, shouting and waving to him to hurry up before it is too late... and Simon hurried.

Simon, completely asleep now, was almost running, and the others struggled to keep up with him, all except for Matthias who grinned and kept pace easily. Something was wrong with Simon, and though each thought something a little different, he could not hide it any more, for in his trance-world there was only himself and the shadow, and he was catching up with it, and he was so close... and he could not understand the shadow's language. Stopping suddenly, Simon snapped awake, dismayed, and finally spoke.

"I used to know how to understand those words, but I have... forgotten. Something... something lies ahead. But I know not what, for I have... forgotten."

Realizing that he spoke aloud, and that he was no longer walking, Simon began again, and said nothing else, no longer slipping into that odd half-sleep trance in which he had walked for most of the day. The sun was high above them, shining from slightly behind, for the noon hour had passed a short time before, and they all walked on as if nothing had happened. Some among them carried unspoken questions about this strange turn of events, but none said anything about Simon's behavior... yet. Their shadows walked before them, small yet, but growing as the sun slipped gradually further behind them, like advance scouts who never reported back what they were seeing. Their shadows marched on, followed by their bodies, all except for Simon.

Simon cast no shadow as he walked, but he did not seem to notice.

[chiikurayami]

Simon is acting more strangely than usually, Kira thought as Simon fell back into a normal place. She saw the curious and some what apprehensive glances of the elf; he shot Simon looks that would usually be given to mad men. The strange woman who accompanied them said nothing and continued her pace. It was Arcanu that Kira turned her attention on. The strange mage had watched with ill hidden interest as the little episode played out. Now, like the rest of the party, he had fallen into deep contemplation. Kira wondered at the magician. He seemed to know a lot about their task and the things that were happening, and yet her rarely spoke nor even acted as though anything affected him. She decided that she would ask him later what he knew on what was happening.
Again she felt that unwavering presence, that unnerving feeling. She was steadily learning to ignore it... if such a thing could be done.
She let her gaze wonder about her. It was all scrub bush and dirt, though the small clusters of plants were growing bigger and just on the edge of her vision she could see the outlines of great tall trees. She would be thankful for their cover; she had been raised beneath the canopies of a forest and felt exposed and nervous without their protection.
They were in a place that was not on any known map. No one ventured through the pass anymore. After the great wars and the warlock Cahlyn had fallen, this place had been poisoned by his wickedness and evil. Ghosts haunted the plains, nightmares preyed on those foolish enough to stumble upon their dens, banshees filled the night with their pitiful cries, will o’ the wisps led unsuspecting travelers into death. Or so the legends go. Looking about with the sun shinning down on the plain, seemingly wanting to bake them alive, she hardly believed that they were more than tales to scare, stories to set friends shivering by the crackle of the fire.
She did not, however, discredit them; she had seen too many odd things during this “quest” than she cared to. With the sun shinning and the forest up ahead, though, she felt she could face the very dragons of Teminestri.

[Laurana]

As the traveling continues, the figure continues to remain silent. Either she doesn't think of anything right to say, or doesn't feel like voicing her opinions. The odd, enigmatic feeling of the unknown continues to linger around her person. Almost without realizing it, she walks a bit closer to Arcanu than the rest of the group. Perhaps she's drawn to the magic prowess he emanates.

Her footfalls fall silently, almost as quiet as she herself is. She ponders to herself if she will always just be known as 'the sorceress', or if circumstances will require her identity, her appearance, and her name, to be revealed... No matter what happens... She's glad she came with the group.

While she can't know for certain if the others enjoy her company in the slightest, they're the first 'decent' people she's been with in... well, years. Already, she secretly feels attached to each of them. She doesn't even know half of their names, and yet... While being with them... she feels really alive again. More than she usually does.

Her hooded head raises a bit as the group starts to near the edge of the forest. It feels like... this is just... a foothill to this journey.

Where will it lead us, I wonder.

[Grim Jestor]

Simon did not see the dark figure ahead again that day, but even as the sun burned, still hot upon their backs, he did not cast a shadow upon the strange and brittle grass. It is so dry here, so dry... as if it never rains, or as soon as it does it is all taken away. But how can there be such a mighty forest so near, if we are walking practically walking into a desert? Simon's silent question was answered almost as soon as they walked under the welcome protection of the forest's eaves, into the shade of tall, proud trees... made entirely of metal. Their trunks were black iron, along with the largest branches, pitted and scarred with age... some were even beginning to rust around ground-level. From the great iron branches, thinner sticks of steel thrust out, and intricately-wrought steel leaves hung silent in the stillness of the day. Somehow, the great trees looked alive, provided cool shade even, but how could such a thing be? Unlike others in the party, Simon could not remember ever hearing anything about the lands beyond the great Eastern mountains, and was thus completely unprepared for such a sight... As one, they slowed and stopped, all seemingly puzzled by the spectacle, the same thoughts and questions running through each of their minds, who could have made such a thing as this, what great craftsman of old?

Only one among them did not marvel, and glanced around only out of interest. Arcanu the mage, dark and mysterious as he was, knew something about this place, maybe even visited it before, and in this gloating knowledge found himself actually being helpful to the party for a change. Under his breath, he whispered, "Welcome..." and then in a low voice, seemingly in awe, "Welcome to the land of the Fire Trees..."

Simon stared at the mage, distrust and questioning equally present in his eyes, but Arcanu offered no other explanation, only advice. "We must not be in this place when night falls, if we would live. This forest is far too vast to cross in a single day, so we must go around, either to the North or South. But I would suggest that we camp this night back out on the planes, for all of you will want to see..."

Arcanu did not finish his sentence, but did not have to. Although under the trees' unnatural shade was a welcome shield from the sun's rays, the day was growing later, the sun falling further to the West, and it should have been cooler here... but it was not until Arcanu finished speaking that they noticed how uncomfortably warm it had become among the trees, and Arcanu's words returned, Land of the Fire Trees... Simon spoke then, "Turn around, we must get out of this place, for we are surely in mortal danger."

Fortunately, they had stopped only a short distance into the strange forest, and it took only minutes for jog out onto the plains again, where even with the setting sun's heat upon them it felt cooler, fresher somehow out here in the open air. From behind them in the forest of metal trees came an odd crackling-rustling sound, like bones rattling together in a cornfield, and a blast of pure heat rushed out, turning the nearest patches of grass to dust. The sun was barely down before the first iron and steel tree burst into enchanted flame, and the night sky became orange dawn as the entire forest came alight from some unknown source, the flames dancing up iron trunks and between steel leaves... yet feeding on nothing.

The companions stared silently, some with mouths agape, but Arcanu only smiled. If only they knew that the only reason he brought them out with him was because his mind had been wandering... If only they knew that he had never intended to enter that forest in the first place... If only they knew how lucky they were...

[Laurana]

The fire among the trees crackles and roars up to the sky, never seeming to tire. The cloaked woman registers Simon's voice in the back of her mind, hearing him talking dimly, but doesn't seem to hear it. She takes a few steps until she's standing in front of Arcanu, peering up at him from under her hood. She says nothing... just staring.

Arcanu turns his eyes to her, narrowing them slightly in question. For a while they don't move, but after a minute or two Simon calls out to them.

"We're going to sleep in the plains, and decide where we will head during morning's light," he informs them.

The woman turns and walks back to where she had been standing earlier, silent as always. Arcanu watches her go, an unknown smirk tugging at his lips.

[Grim Jestor]

The night sky took on a sooty orange glow, nearly as bright as the day but somehow flickery, somehow... wrong. It came upon us so suddenly, this strangeness. Who could have thought that such a place could exist in the world? The thoughts whirled in Simon's head, confusing him and muddling his mind, and he did not know from where they came... from his unknown teacher, his master, the watcher? From his own cold logic and reasoning? Although the night was warm, Simon pulled his coat tight around him, shivering somewhere deep inside where the heat from the fire-trees could not reach. Someone, something was watching. Simon did not know if it was his unseen master, or someone else entirely, but now as very rarely before he was certain that eyes were upon this small wandering group.

Although the night seemed somehow sooty, the trees gave off no smoke, and there was no smell of burning. The heat was real, and the fire-light, but there was no reason, no purpose to it. Why ever would there be a metal forest of trees which catch fire each night? What foul sorcery is this? This time, Simon did not stop to question the thoughts' origin. This time, he just let them go. So many questions, so many questions and no answers...

No bird calls split the eerie silence, and not even the trees made any sound as they burned. This was not normal fire. Above, the stars could barely be seen, but there they were, staring down upon the earth and laughing at all mortals...

They huddled there, safe but uncomfortable, for the time being...

[chiikurayami]

They camped on the open-grasslands that night, sleeping under the stars overhead which were the only thing familiar in this strange land. The fire in the strange trees had died down, but they still glowed with an unnatural light. As they began rolling out the bedding Arcanu worked ..ing a fire. When asked why—for it was a warm night—he would not answer. The others had learned that if the mage did not wish to speak he would remain silent and no amount of prodding would make him do otherwise.

Kira was the first to take watch. She sat facing the trees, knowing that anything that would cause them harm would probably come from that direction. As she stared off into the distance, the words that had started this. Seek ye out the tower of dusk in the realm of the lost ones, beyond the curtain of dawn. She had pondered it many times, but it had begun to lose that connection with her as the journey continued. Now, however, she felt the truth of the words for here they were in what was the closest thing to the realm of the lost ones she had ever known.

Long ago a terrible sorcerer name Cahlyn had ravished this land when he brought up magic that had no place in this world. With his hands and the hands of those who followed him he had resurrected massive beasts. The tales spoke of the great things; the noise they made, the terrible filth they turned the land around them to, the skin that was impenetrable to magic and weapons. Kira could hardly imagine the stories the elders told (though even they had had only heard of such things from their elders). They must have been terrible beasts.

Kira thought for a moment of their predicament. Ahead of them the forest stetched from mountainside to mountainside. The only ways left to them besides scaling the mountains were through the metallic forest or back the way they came. She knew that going back was not going to be an option those in her party would even consider. But going into the forest seemed like a death wish.

A breeze kicked up on the plains and wiped the small fire about wildly. Kira pulled her hood closer around her head, the only protection she had from the sudden gust. She watched as the fire danced about than went out without even a puff of smoke. The only light was the ominous glow from the trees. Quickly she set about trying to light the fire again, but in the wind the sparks from the flint died before they even reached the wood.

Just as she was about to wake the mage a piercing scream rent the still air, rattling Kira to her toes. The air around her turned suddenly cold. The scream died, but the echo reverberated through her head.

She moved to rise, but was stopped mid-motion by an ice-hand on her shoulder. She could feel it even through the heavy cloak she wore. She turned to look at the apprehender and her scream caught in her throat.

A woman stood before her wearing the clothing of ages before though they were all torn and bloodied. Her face had an almost terrified look to it and was surrounded in matting hair falling out of it's trappings. She was corporeal, but her skin had a faint glow to it, as though she was standing under direct moonlight.

Kira recoiled from the touch and the woman responded with an almost sad expression. With the other hand she reached into her robes and pulled out a roll of decaying parchment and held it out to Kira imploringly. Hesitantly Kira took it and was astounished to find that is was real. She tried to thank the woman but her voice refused to work. The woman's eyes fell on a point just past Kira and her eyes widen with fear. Her mouth opened to scream and she threw her arms over her face. Before her scream escaped though she vanished into the night.

Grasping the scroll in her hand, but not really realizing it was there, Kira stared out into the night and, despite those slumbering around her, she felt a crushing loneliness and sadness.

[ferohers]

Matthias layed there his eyes closed, the winds here sang sad songs, and he listened to them intently. "Awaken"screamed the wind in his ear. he lept to his feet and saw kira standing there looking through him, intently concentrating on the nothing about them. he looked at her, and then turned, and looked to, but there was nothing there, so he picked up his sword, and begin to walk away from the camp. slowely at first then he began to sprint, running as fast as he could, the wind swept him, making him light as a feather, he flowed angelicly on the waves of grass on the plains, and ran for miles before looking back, the orange glow was still visible, but merely a glow. He sat and whispered to the wind, asking is why it allerted him and why he was awoken so swiftly. But suddenly the wind was silent, and it departed from him, so he slowely began his walk back to the camp.


When he arrived, the watch had been switched, he payed no attention who it was now. he simply walked as close as he could get to the blazing trees. "what are you" he sayed in the tree language, and then again in an even more ancient tongue. still nothing.


Suddenly matthias's head exploded with a screech of unimaginal pain, he fell to his knees, sweat swam out of his pores, he screamed in pain, still the screech continued to echo through his head. Finally his eyes rolled back and darkness overcame him. Then a scratchy voice whispered in his head "We are the Dancing Woods".........

[Laurana]

Throughout the night, it is obvious that strange forces lie at work among the grass and trees. Even the sky above seems a little bit different each time one looks up at its vast expanse of faint stars and deep, dark blackness. While it seems most of the company are being visited by the unknown, one of the few (if there are any others) who seems unaffected by strangeness other than their own is the cloaked woman, who lies in an almost careless way, floating somewhere in her mind between reality and dreams.

She hears her companions, yet knows quite well she can do nothing to help them. And so, she does not yet rise from her odd star-gazing. On her back she rests, her hands behind her head. At a few points during the night, though it seems none but one or two could possibly notice it, the stars and firelight shine in just a way to illuminate two gleaming eyes underneath the hood.

Eyes that are all too human, yet eyes that always seem to be thinking of another place, and maybe another time. Though hard to decipher from her cloak and raised hood, even when the woman smiled her eyes were 'someplace else', someplace distant that always remains there at the back of her mind.

At one point, past the middle of the night, she rises and walks off just a ways, seen by none but the few who remain awake -- if any. Though there might be one or two who saw her, the sorceress remains oblivious to them.

There, lit by both the night and the glow of the burning trees, the woman discards her cloak. In the same motion, a staff comes to her hand. The staff seems to catch the light of the heavenly bodies, constructed of a slender, firm pole of an odd, silverish-blue hue, and topped with a golden hoop that's filled with a blue crystal in the shape of a crescent moon. A few silver and gold rings dangle along the hoop, making small bits of noise throughout the night as they collide with each other.

She lifts her head to smile up at the night, and as she does so, her face is revealed. Framed with fair skin, her two, intriguing blue eyes glitter with the different light sources. The smile stretching across red lips is a carefree, gentle one, a smile that's almost out-of-place among all that's happened, all that might happen. Pure blond hair, cut short at mid-neck and giving the appearance almost of a feathery down, curl up at the ends in a slightly spiky way.

Black cloak cast aside, the blue cloak embossed with silver patterns becomes visible on her slender, curved form; among the company of the night's symphony, the sorceress stands there, basking in the light of darkness, staff in hand.


After about an hour, the hidden, dark-cloaked woman returns to the small camping area. She lays down once more, again gazing, her thoughts hidden among the rest of her.

[Grim Jestor]

In the not-darkness, Simon sat awake and alert for the night's last watch, searching for some sign of daylight amidst the ever-present glow of moon and fire, mixed together in a confusing but entrancing way. He could not stare too long, without the strange feeling of losing himself, of falling into a trance, so he mostly stared at the ground or the sky, trying to find by somehow-unfamiliar stars his relative position. He could not, but did not know if this was due to the strange dancing forest of flames, or something else entirely... something to do with that shadow, that teacher, those voices... There were, as always, far too many questions... and never yet an answer. Simon found himself longing for a simple battle with some armored foes, warring factions or assassins, just to keep things simple.

Instead of a battle, Simon simple sat still, puzzling over the Kira's strange story, told by Arcanu upon his relieving the mage of watch... a phantom-like figure, maybe a vision or a visitor, although Arcanu had said little more besides. Arcanu was a strange one, even for a magic-user, and Simon knew that to trust the words of such a one would be foolishness, no matter what good the stranger had done for them in the past. He would question Kira when the sun finally rose, ending this endless half-night, and only then would he try to figure out some course of action...

For some reason, though, Kira's words of so long ago echoed in his mind once again, along with memories of a silver key. In his reverie, Simon did not notice the sorceress awaken and walk away, only to return a short time later, somehow changed...

The lingering light of the dying sun, renewed by blood, shall color many tears

What did it all mean? Weary beyond words, Simon fought the allure of fire-trance as he waited for daylight...

Something very much like an eye blinked open, only to be countered in a simple burst of flame from somewhere deep among the burning trees. If one had been listening, a terrible scream might have been heard as the spell bent backwards into itself to become a terrible spear cast upon the caster...

[chiikurayami]

Kira stirred. She had fallen asleep soon after the visitation. She wanted to believe it was just a dream, but the scroll was crushed tightly in her hand.
She sat up. Her companians were already awake, most of them staring at the strange trees in the cold morning light. She threw off their worried looks indifferently.
Sitting next to the now exhausted fire, she unrolled the scroll carefully. She could still see the woman's sad face and her piercing screams pounded in Kira's head.
Upon the scroll in spiderweb lines of fading ink was what appeared to be a map. She looked at it carefully, but did not recognize it and all the place names were too faded to read. She struggled for a moment, trying to make them out, but than looked up, sighing.
Arcanu was standing above her, reading. He looked about them for a moment and then back down at the scroll.
"It is a map of this valley," he said finally. Kira looked at him credulously. "You can see the forest here," continued, indicating a faded group of markings. "And the mountains are here. And--" he took the parchment from Kira's hand and waved his hand over it, whispering under his breath.
He grew silent and stared at it for a moment, before handing it back. "And there appears to be nothing else."
Kira looked at the map. She could now indeed begin to make out the landmarks around them, though their names were still lost to her.
Then the lines began to disappear, fading into the paper as though it was drinking them up.
Kira half rose, a cry of indignation escaping her lips as she watched the lines disappear.
"What have you done mage?" she asked, before her words died in her mouth. The lines were appearing again, rearranging themselves in different patterns.
"It's a tunnel!" she exclaimed to the others. "A tunnel under the woods."

[Grim Jestor]

A tunnel under the woods. Simon could not understand the concept, could not understand the very idea of a path constructed under the ground... Fresh memories of the Sylph still filled his mind, images of the death of the elf maid Frosty, and he loathed the idea of going underground again. And yet... the mage Arcanu had been the one with the knowledge, the one to suggest that they turn aside either to the North or South... and now, Arcanu had obviously done something to this strange parchment which Kira held, and try as he might Simon could not remember exactly where she had gotten it...

Is the mage leading us into a trap? Suddenly and strangely without his inner voice, his intuition, Simon could only think his own thoughts, and they were increasingly filled with his own fears instead of the useful information and wisdom which had marked his earlier--although somehow foreign-- thoughts. Now, the image of a shadow teacher in a tower no longer came to him, but for now Simon did not let this bother him. For now, he was worried about the possibility of Arcanu's trickery and guile. For now, Simon would watch the mage carefully, watch and wait for some dark magic which should have ended them all... watch and wait and preserve his own life, and maybe the lives of th others as well.

...Kira seemed to know the way to the tunnel's entrance, from looking at her strange map. Whether the map was genuine or the product of some dark magic, no one thought to ask, but they followed Kira to the dark gaping hole in the earth, followed her down into a very well-built and well-maintained underground path... down into the darkness once again.

[Laurana]

The cloaked woman, still laying up to that point, stands up slowly as Kira makes her exclamation. Inside her mind, she can't help but think just what it is about her that keeps drawing her to caves and tunnels. She just got out of one a while ago... Must they travel so quickly into yet another? On second thought... Does the cloaked woman even know where they're going?

Inside the darkness, the sorceress walks alongside Arcanu, just as silent as he is. She stands close enough to his height, glancing sideways at him now and then to check if his trademark smirk has made an appearance. Simon walks near Kira, and the newest group member trods behind the two pairs as rear guard, cautious and alert to the earth and those who dwell within it.

Though Arcanu created a small, more portable fire to give light to the map, Kira doesn't even seem to need it as she keeps an almost obsessive concentration on navigating their way through the tunnel.

For a good portion of the trip, not much seems to occur out of the ordinary as each of the party member's thoughts go unvoiced. They all listen to what cannot be heard though the dark, deep tunnel...