"M'Lord, with respect, why do you insist on traveling with the men?"

Makado Sagaan looked up from the map he was studying, lightly running a steel gauntlet over his hairless head as he turned to examine the speaker. He was a small, timid looking advisor garbed in the dark blue robes of his station, although they were heavily stained by travel. They were a long way from Castle Argencrafht.

"Excuse me?"

The man lowered his gaze, blinking nervously; he had small, watery eyes and always looked like he was on the verge of tears. It was somewhat surprising to see Anmund in the tent- the men all knew not to enter unless they had good reason. Behind him, near the tent flaps in a small but sturdy chair lounged General Losengrad, who was watching the advisor with narrowed eyes.

"It's just- these lands, they're filled with bandits and barbarians. The lowest denizens of Argonafht, less like people and more like lawless beasts. They could attack our camp, or ambush us when we're on the road- I'm just worried about your safety, M'Lord."

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

General Losengrad growled in disgust. “Are you suggesting that Lord Sagaan does not bear the ability to defend himself against a common criminal?” he asked, rising to his full height of six feet nine inches.

Anmund began trembling as he turned to face the general. “Please, I meant no disrespect, I only wanted to be sure that-”

Losengrad sneered “That what? were you expecting to gain a promotion by pointing out useless opinionated information?” He spat on the ground and put a hand on the hilt of the broadsword clipped to his belt. Anmund started shaking like there was a tremor going throughout the tent. Losengrad’s smirk widened considerably. “And this is why you are only an advisor, my dear Anmund. you fear the cut of a blade on your skin, while I relish in the thought of battle. If you are done shaking, I would suggest you listen to Lord Sagaan and stop wasting his time.”

And with those words he sat back down as if nothing had happened.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Anmund blinked several times, suddenly looking dazed after the General’s verbal onslaught- Sagaan regarded him for a moment in silence before turning back to the map, his eyes rapidly darting around as he studied its contents. After a few moments of tense silence, the man cleared his throat, his voice even shakier now.

"Please M'Lord, could you tell me what it is you're searching for? If I knew, I could h-help you… I could be of use to you."

Sagaan straightened up once again and turned to stare at the man again, this time with the edges of his lips twitching upward to form the slightest of smiles. The man saw it and immediately straightened up, his eyes widening fearfully.

"You ask many questions, Anmund."

The man looked like he was deeply regretting his decision to enter the tent; he took an involuntary step backwards, as if increasing the distance between them would get him out of his current predicament. He then seemed to realize the step moved him slightly closer to Losengrad and he quickly moved back forward as if he’d been burned.

"M'Lord, I mean no harm, I’m only trying to h-"

""Every person who learns a secret then becomes another mouth that can divulge it," Sagaan interrupted. "The more people who know a secret, the more likely it will be told to others. Understand?" "

"Yes, o-of course, M'Lord, but I'd never do anything like that! I'd never share your secrets," he said, suddenly appearing somewhat forceful in his desperation to prove his loyalty. Sagaan watched him for a moment, then turned back to the table holding the map. "On the island of Valernac, there is a tribe of dwarves who are known for the interesting methods they employ in obtaining information." He picked up a small dagger that had been lying on the table's wooden surface and held it over the flame of one of the candles he had on either side of the map. As the fire licked the blade he turned to watch Anmund, who was now fidgeting on the spot.

"Tell me, my trusted, ever loyal advisor, would you hold out against such torment? Would you stand strong in the face of pain and death, taking my secrets with you to your grave?"

The blade was now so hot that he could feel its warmth through both the handle he gripped, and through the steel gauntlet adorning his right hand.

"Or would you break?"

"I wouldn't… I wouldn't betray you," Anmund answered in a voice that was scarcely louder than a whisper. He licked his lips nervously, his eyes continually darting between Sagaan's face and the dagger he held.

"Do you care to test that assertion?" Sagaan asked as he removed the blade from the flame and turned to face him directly, the dagger held out in front of him as if it were a gift. He could see a hungry look suddenly appear on the General’s face- yes, Losengrad would enjoy such a sight.

The man's face went entirely pale, as if all the blood had been abruptly drained from it. He looked like he was actually going to start crying in earnest. "I.. I don't… please, M'Lord, I-"

"Maybe you would break, and maybe you wouldn't," Sagaan cut him off dismissively, turning back to the table and throwing the dagger back onto it. The smooth wood beneath the blade immediately began turning black, scorched by the heat emanating from the metal. "It is not within my power to know such things."

He turned to regard Anmund one final time, the smile now gone from his face. "However, it is within my power to decide what you know. You may leave."

The man opened his mouth, then decided it wasn't worth staying long enough to say anything else. He bowed, backing away so quickly he nearly tripped over his own feet, then turned and practically flew out of the tent.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As Anmund further pressed on in an effort to see if he would be allowed the information he was seeking -quite pitifully in the General’s opinion- Losengrad was losing his tolerance for the man. his tolerence stemmed from the fact that patience was a virtue the General could only mimic.

He was about to say something akin to “How soon do you want to die?”, but thankfully, the heating of Sagaan’s dagger put his mind at ease, and added a cruel glint to his eyes as well as another widening of his already sinister smirk if that were possible.

"Tell me, my trusted, ever loyal advisor, would you hold out against such torment? Would you stand strong in the face of pain and death, taking my secrets with you to your grave? Or would you break?"

That was what did it, Losengrad chuckled darkly. he had always reveled in the scent of burning flesh. Anmund looked like he was ready to have his pants collect excretions. “Son of a firi’wuhn. I can’t wait to see this!” Losengrad thought. This conversation just got a whole lot more interesting to him. When the man was dismissed, he frowned.

“You are growing soft M’lord.” he said as he stood up, not particularly caring if Sagaan was in agreement with his statement or not. “Besides that, I’d say you could have made an example of him. None of the other men would bother you for days.”

At the look he was given, he held up his hands defensively. “Hey, your call, but I still say you should have thrown it through his chestplate!”

to himself he muttered, “I wouldn’t have gone easy on him, that’s for sure!”

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sagaan thought he heard Losengrad muttering something under his breath but he paid no mind; the General had a habit of doing that when he was in disagreement with him, usually not caring if Sagaan heard what he was saying.

"Greater than fear, and greater than pain… is the fear of pain,” he said, as if talking to himself. He might as well have been, as he was certain the other man disagreed- that much went without saying.

Personally, Sagaan wouldn’t have minded sharing Losengrad’s lust for blood- the only problem was that his army would be reduced to nothing but a pile of bloodstained armor and bone fragments within a year. The thought made him shake his head humorlessly. Hearing the sound of approaching footsteps, he turned to watch a soldier entering the tent, ducking down in order to fit beneath the tent flaps. Once the newcomer straightened up, Sagaan saw that he was of medium height with an iron breastplate and a helm that concealed most of his head. He could still see enough to recognize him as a Dark Elf- the pale hand branded on his left cheek stood out sharply against the grey of his skin.

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Losengrad smirked again. how he loved torturing most of these filthy traitors to their own kind. Ahh, memories…. “Lieutenant Erebik, I assume you are not here to make idle chatter?”

This earned him a frown from the dark elf in question, but as he was a lieutenant, he had come to expect this treatment from the General. “No, sir. the first of the men you sent out has returned with crucial information.” he gulped and tugged on his collarbone, then explained further. “Unfortunately, it was apparently… and this is their words, not mine… necessary to *ahem*...” he fidgeted on the spot clearly dreading the results of the yet to be revealed news. “Kill the messenger.”

All was quiet. everyone in the army knew the General’s lack of tolerance for that particular phrase. another second passed, and the General had his blade to Erebik’s throat.

“Sagaan?” he asked with a deadly calm tone. “Is it alright if I kill this one?”

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sagaan watched the proceedings, completely unsurprised- as far as he knew, the only thing the General enjoyed more than tormenting other people, was tormenting dark elves. But now wasn’t the time for bloodshed- he needed information, and corpses couldn’t talk.

“I would like to hear what he has to say first, if you don’t mind, General,” he said as he walked to the tent’s opening and peered outside. It was very quiet in the camp- he would’ve bet anything they all knew what had happened. And they were waiting to see what would happen next.

The elf blinked as beads of sweat went into his eyes, but as the gigantic blade was still at his neck he didn’t dare move. He looked at Sagaan desperately, his eyes wide and terrified. Sagaan was more interested in what he had to say, however.

“Speak. Now.”

“W-we th-think it was someone from the village, but we d-don’t have all the infor-”

"How could a Shadow Legionnaire with the skills of Paalim be bested by some villager? Something about what you're telling me isn't making sense," interjected Sagaan.

"I don't know how, they didn't say, I swear I don't know!" he cried out desperately, the blade now resting lightly against his neck. Tiny droplets of blood were starting to trail down from its gleaming edge.

Sagaan glimpsed a shadow near the tents entryway- he stared, as suddenly a pair of glowing yellow eyes had come into view, peering up at him from a few feet off the ground.

"Kill him later, General. We have things to do," he said as he moved towards the eyes, even as they vanished once again. At that point he realized the space between the tent flaps has been dark enough to suggest it was the middle of the night- he knew the Legion had mastered the use of shroud-spheres, and used miniature ones to signal each other.

When he straightened up he saw an unusually tall Khajiit dressed entirely in black standing several yards away from him. He was armed with a long knife, visibly hanging from his belt on his left hip, but Sagaan knew members of the Shadow Legion typically carried at least four daggers on their person at all times, usually intended as a last resort. Usually.

"Kahat. "

The Captain of the Legion inclined his head, his eyes still fixed on Sagaan’s very seriously. "The ones who did this. We will find them, yes?"

"Yes. You lost a good Legionnaire."

The Khajiit made a sound that sounded like something between a grunt and a hiss. "Good soldier, yes. Killer, yes. Good killer. But not a good shadow." The two of them were surrounded by movement, reminiscent of being in the midst of an ant's nest that had been kicked over. The camp was stirring.

"The killing, is too messy, yes? Slitting too many throats, too many corpses falling down, too many ears hearing, yes? Better to sneak. Paalim, he did not understand this."

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"I don’t give a damn about whether or not you think he was good! the fact remains that he was better than you accredit his abilities," growled the general as he emerged from the tent behind them. Kahat watched him warily. “He was good at his job because he spilt blood, instead of sneaking around doing diddly-squat while the empire took care of the enemy!” Losengrad finished speaking in a very near shout. At this point he did not care who was listening. His mood had officially been compromised.

“Pardon me, but Kahat not familiar with term ‘diddly-squat’. Can someone explain?” Kahat asked. Losengrad brought a hand up to his face. He didn’t have time to be giving English lessons! Deciding to take the conversation in another route while ignoring the presented grammar question, he asked, “So are you here to complain about a dead cat, or to help us in our current state of affairs?”

Kahat seemed slightly offended that he had been called a cat as a race, but it wasn’t like he could do much about it. He was, after all in the presence of the two most powerful men in Argonafht. while his train of thought led elsewhere, he decided to say something different.

“Kahat will be going now… Kahat is very busy, yes?”

Losengrad frowned. why was it that everyone around here was such a lily-livered idiot? As Kahat left them, Losengrad turned to Sagaan. “Sir, although I must wait for your orders, I urge you to trust our fallen comrade’s intel. It would not be sporting of us to pass by the town without avenging his death.”

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“If there’s even the slightest chance Paalim’s suspicions were correct, we cannot risk letting this chance slip away,” Sagaan replied, even as he gestured to one of his runners, a human boy who couldn’t be more than a teenager. Age wasn’t much of a concern to the Empire- if a person could follow orders and had half a brain in their head, work could be found for them. Argonafht was a hard place, with little room for people incapable of pulling their own weight.

“Boy, I need every officer in this camp aware of the fact that we are congregating at the outpost north of here.” That outpost was situated just north of the village in question, and was close to the Empire's Forbidden Forest encampment- it was the last place Paalim had been seen alive, and it was also a good place to set out from. If they could establish a perimeter, they could cut off any possible escape. That is, if they weren’t already too late.

The runner stared at him for a moment, then sprinted away, his footsteps kicking up dust as he began relaying the message in a shrill voice that covered quite a bit of distance. It wasn’t long before they could see movement in every direction as the camp became aware of the situation. Sagaan reached into the inside pocket of his cloak and withdrew a cloth bag, which he opened silently, aware of eyes on him but not caring.

He looked down in silence for a long time, before finally closing the bag with a tightening of his facial muscles. Nothing yet. But he had a feeling…

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Losengrad noticed when Sagaan withdrew the bag. he knew what his Lord was looking for, but said nothing until the bag was put back in it’s place.

“You shouldn’t be so careless.” He said calmly, once again not caring what was thought of his opinion. “Someone could be watching, and then it would be over.”

Grabbing the Dark Elf who was attempting to leave before he was discovered, Losengrad slit his throat and yelled to the nearest group of soldiers “Get this corpse out of my sight, before I behead all of you as well!”

He didn’t have to say anything else.

~~~T~I~M~E~ ~S~K~I~P~~~

Losengrad looked over at his lieutenant one last time. “Are the men in place Azlum? We can’t risk being in these accursed forests any more than necessary! they are called forbidden for a reason!”

“Yes sir, we have the town surrounded. what are Lord Sagaan’s orders?” Azlum answered. General Losengrad didn’t hesitate with his answer.

“Kill them. Kill them all.” the General snarled, then for no apparent reason, he clicked his tongue three times. The lieutenant nodded ever so slightly, then turned to his messengers.

“Send out the message to the others! We attack at dawn. Now MOVE!”

_________________

Rosalin peeked through the brush, lying on her belly watching a boar eat in silence. Dawn was only a few hours away and she'd been at it all night. She needed this kill, or the night would be a bust. removing her bow, she carefully notched an arrow. she took aim aaaaand….

“Bullseye!” she shouted as the boar squealed in pain. quickly grabbing another arrow, she didn't hesitate to put it out of it’s misery. pulling a small cart she had hidden nearby, she loaded tomorrow’s meal onto it and began the trek home.

~~~T~I~M~E~~S~K~I~P~~~

Ryan woke up to the smell of raw meat being rolled into the house, which was close to the edge of the forest. For some reason that smell always made him hungry. Rolling off of his back, he sat up in bed and groaned. “Stupid shoulder blades!” he grumbled as he got his chain mail on and attached his leather armor. Running downstairs, he found his sister pulling the days meal across the floor.

“Here, let me help you with that.” he said smiling. She jumped and turned to face him. “Don’t scare me like that, Ryan! You nearly gave me a heart attack!what would you cook then, if I died? you know you can’t hunt well.” she said, smiling back. she was joking about it, so Ryan decided to play along.

“And you can’t cook, so what would you do if I died? remember when you burne- What was that?”

Both children looked outside to see a troop of Dark Elves in Imperial armor throwing fireballs in perfect sync with deadly accuracy, and they were targeting the trees around the village.

“What are Imperials doing surrounding the town with fire?” Rosalin asked. Ryan didn't figure it out until he saw them close the gaps between the flames. gasping, he whispered, “ they’re denying the townsfolk an escape route!”

his suspicions were confirmed as dark elves casting fire cloaks around human soldiers so that they could enter without being damaged began converging near the edge of the huge flame circle, trapping the Liey’n inside. Then the worst began. The soldiers began kicking down the doors followed by men, women and children screaming as death took hold of entire households in a matter of minutes.

Rosalin grabbed her bow. Ryan grabbed her arm and in a whispered voice said “Rose, are you nuts? Those are trained, military officers! They’d kill us if we fought back!”

Rosalin turned to look at her brother. Seeing that he looked like he had a plan, she sighed. “So what do we do?” she asked, fear evident in her voice. Then she noticed he was fidgeting at the question. “What’s wrong?” she asked. “and don’t say nothing. I know when you lie.”

“Weeeell… you know these protrusions from my back?” he asked nervously, all the while making sure they were safe from being killed by a blade of the army outside.

“You mean your deformity? how will that do anything to help?” She asked putting her hands on her hips. Ryan gulped and began removing his armor and chain mail, then proceeded to take off his shirt.

“Ryan, What in the name of Lei’gwyn are you doing? this isn’t the time to be showing me muscl- are those… scales?”

Ryan nodded and grabbed her around the waist. Immediately assuming the worst, she screamed.

“I’m your sister! let go of me you pervert!” to which he responded with “Hang on! Draconai Floroscin Aiwer!” and with that, wings sprouted from his back and he pushed off, taking them both through the roof of the house. As he did so, he shouted out in anguish for his family members and fellow villagers he was unable to save.
________________________________________________________

Losengrad smiled. The small village was now being burnt to the ground. He unclipped his broadsword and set it on fire, walking through the flames without hesitation, or a fire cloak, the intense heat radiating off of his metal armor. “Might as well join in the fun!” he said smiling like he had just been given a birthday present and seeming cruel at the same time. He turned to kick down a nearby door, but stopped when he heard a shout seeming to fill the village. “What in blazes? was that one of ours? note to self, remind these lily-livered morons that they are here to serve Lord Sagaan, not to Scream in pain like schoolgirls.” Then the thought occurred to him that it could have been the screaming of a victim. “I suppose I can’t find out from a dead kid if he screamed or not… Oh well!” and with that he began cutting through what was left of the villagers.
___________________________________________________________

Ryan had been flying for… well he had lost track of how long, because of two things. one: He was not good at anything time related. he just knew when to sleep and when to be awake because of the sun. Two: His sister hadn't stopped asking how the F***ing Hell he got wings in the first place, and when he answered that, she just asked him to teach her the spell.

~Is she really this naive?~ he thought while they flew. how can she not see that I am not really related to her? Oh well… probably for the best.

He began feeling tired suddenly and realized he had reached his limit on the spell he used. landing, he let go of his sister, and looked around. realizing something, he cursed “Ger’vat!” (there is no point in translating this word as it would have to be censored, and I would get arrested for it’s meaning.) “I left my shirt, chain mail and armor at the village!” he frowned. The two travelers then noticed that they were not alone. They both got into Fiht’fri defensive poses, and stood back to back. “Who’s there? Show yourself!” Rosalin shouted.

_________________
If you RP with me, read This Notification

Shoulder Demon: (Looking at controls of train) "Let's see how many times we can wreck this thing before we're all dead."

Shoulder Angel: "Are you crazy?!?!?! you'll get us all killed!!!!!!"

Shoulder Demon: "That's the idea, Moron!"

Eira made her way into her home early in the morning as she tended to the flowers outside. She carried a basket that was hand woven full of vegetables that she had picked from her garden. She sat the basket next to a bucket of water and started to clean them slowly. She walked into her small living after washing the vegetables and started to clean the living room.

After she had finished the living room she made her way outside to the small flower garden her mother had long ago planted. She knelled in front of the flowers. She smiled at them taking a deep breath. A sudden sting to her head made her jump. She turned her dagger raised in defense. She looked around to see a group of small children glaring at her. "Get out of our village you freak!" One little girl yelled. "No one wants you here!" A small boy next to her screamed. She walked toward them calmly just to see them turn pale and run off.

She sighed turning back toward her house. "poor children raised with hatred" She made her way into the kitchen to start making her dinner.

~~~T~I~M~E~~S~K~I~P~~~

Eira sat in the dinning room eating her dinner when the smell of smoke hit her. She stood quickly pulling her daggers out. She walked outside to see the people in the village trying to run away.

Eira jumped into a tree near her house looking around. She saw a wall of flames surrounding her village. "Damn" She watched as empire soldiers ran through her village killing anyone in sight. She saw the little girl who she assumed had thrown the rock at her earlier trip and fall. She jumped from the tree and ran toward her. She threw her dagger at the approaching soldier and stuck it in his neck. She quickly pulled the dagger out and looked at the little girl. "Run!" She yelled at her. The girl sniffled and took off looking for her mother.

Eira looked around and started running through the trees killing ten to fifteen soldiers on her way. She came to a wall of fire and stopped. She took a deep breath. Fire had never burnt her before its one of the only reasons she was able to cook so well. She opened them and hoped that her ability to within stand certain heats would stay with her. She ran through the fire coming out on the other side with small burns but nothing serous. Eira started running through the forest watching for anything or anyone that seemed to be a threat.

_________________

Thykahm had been walking for many an hour on the trail from his people’s kingdom in the mountains to these forests. He was in pursuit of a particular band of green skinned savages, composed mainly of Orcs and their smaller, but no less wretched, cousins Goblins. They were at blame for a recent raid upon his people’s home, and as such they had doomed themselves to the wrath of a Dwarven grudge. This seemingly endless green forest was suspected to be their place of refuge, where their shanty and crude settlement was most likely to be found. Horrible creatures in the words of every Dwarf in every land. He had found some crude tracks left by the distinctly heavy and crude boots fashioned by Orcs, hopefully the raiding party that was responsible for the recent attack. He followed them for a time, but soon stopped in his tracks.

A great plume of dense black smoke was rising above the treeline some distance ahead of his location. Orcs? Surely, unless some overzealous Dark Elf had gone mad with fire. It perhaps wasn’t wise but he decided to investigate the situation. Walking for a few dozen metres he spotted the fire’s fuel. A small village that seemed to have been built by the Elven people. The buildings matched their style of building, it was flimsy and didn’t last long like Dwarven works, but it seemed good enough for their tastes. Such an act was monstrous, surely caused by people with no regard at all for the lives of others. It was upon that moment that he saw one of the perpetrators of this arson. A Dark Elf in what appeared to be military grade armour. “What the…” He muttered, watching the Dark Elves and their fellows proceed to march into the village, weapons at the ready, presumably they were going to murder everyone in the entire village.

Such an act made Thykahm’s blood boil, such monstrous use of power against unarmed civilians, even if they were Elves, was horrific. At least your common Orc had enough brain power to fight back, these people were just common folk that were likely to be farmers and hunters. Nothing on par with these soldiers. But there he stood, powerless to stop them. He was but one Dwarf against numerous potential foes. It was a fight that he had no chance in surviving. Had the rest of his kingdom’s warrior been here, they would have stopped such a thing, but sadly there were miles away by now. Thykahm had to walk away.

Now rather angered, he walked further on his own path, seeking Orcs and Goblins in an endless green forest filled with potential animal threats. But still he trudged ever onwards. The forest was remarkably peaceful for what the kingdom’s scouts had reported it to be, or so it seemed. From a series of dull green bushes leapt two Orcs and one of their smaller Goblin cousins.

“Oi!” The presumed leader of the three bandits yelled at Thykahm. “We don’t like any of your stunty kind ‘ere!" He added, still yelling at the heavily armoured Dwarf. In this time, Thykahm had already drawn his own weapon, a huge two-handed battleaxe, and was holding it at the ready. “And I don’t like any or your wretched kind!” He yelled back at the green skinned bandits, charging at them. The Orcs were taken off-guard by the bravery of the Dwarf, expecting him to surrender since he was outnumbered. This surprise turned lethal, as the second, none-leader, Orc was cut down. His head removed from his body. Thykahm followed this up, by ramming his steel-armoured elbow into the jaw of the Goblin that followed them, cracking the creatures jaw, and likely knocking out a few teeth in the process. The creature let forth a shriek of pain, holding its jaw in immense pain. The lead Orc had found his moment, swinging his large jagged blade at the Dwarven warrior; he gave a large toothed grin, but soon a look of anger. The blow was clumsy, and the Dwarf’s armour too thick, for the blade did nothing but scratch the armour. He let forth a loud roar of rage, but was met with a gauntleted fist into his maw and an axe into his meaty chest.

The remaining Goblin’s morale had all but broken, for it held its weapon shakily and his face was filled with terror. In desperation, it scrambled at the Dwarf’s plate armour, its claws and makeshift weapon doing nothing. Thykahm drew his arm back, and pushed the Goblin in the opposite direct, flinging the small green skin into the dirt. “Where’s your camp wretch?” Thykahm asked in a threatening voice, he would use this Goblin for information rather than outright death. “There! Over there! West!” The creature squealed, it’s voice distorted by the sudden lack of certain teeth. “Good.” The Dwarf responded, ending the Goblin.

Now content, he walked westwards to where the Goblin had mentioned its camp being. But for the second time in one day, odd things were afoot. From the skies glided what looked two Elves. Maybe they were fleeing from the village? Thykahm was going to ask them, threat or not. They landed a dozen or so metres away from him, and there he got a better look. There was a man and woman, but the man seemed to have…wings?! That most certainly wasn’t normal for an Elf, or at least not the one’s Thykahm had met.

Approaching them, he saw that they had settled into some strange defensive stances, proclaiming ‘Who’s there? Show yourself!’ If they had escaped from the village, it was a given that they would most certainly be jumpy and a fair bit scared probably. Standing at his full height, with weapon upon his back, Thykahm stepped out into their vision. “Greetings there Elves.” He began, trying not to be threatening in the least. “I mean you no harm. But I will ask, where you at that village that was burned down not too far away?” He was confident that they weren’t foes, and their magic wouldn’t exactly be all too useful given he was a Dwarf. Though the former would be answered soon enough.

_________________

Ryan sighed with relief and got out of his fighting stance. "Yes, we were." he frowned. "Those military bastards slaughtered everyone! I would like nothing more than to kill them all, but I'm just one man." Then, realizing he had forgotten his manners, he smiled, albeit sadly, and said, "My name is Ryan Koth'ri, and this is my sister Rosalin. Might I ask yours?"

He was of course lying about them being blood relatives, but since his "sister" had no such knowledge, it was a safe bet the information would either be overlooked or left alone altogether. Rosalin smiled at the Dwarf, who was actually slightly taller than herself. "Hi. sorry for the hostility. we were on edge. Thought the Empire was following us after they burned down the village." Then she seemed to remember something and turned to Ryan accusingly. "Since when can you FLY???" She asked sternly. She knew he was keeping something from her, and she wasn't happy about it.

Ryan sighed. "Not now! you realize I left my shirt back home, right? If we run into the military, I'll be recognized as different almost immediately. I need to find a shirt and armor if possible, and the shirt needs to be as soon as possible." he looked around as if searching for something. "I really wish that the spell I used didn't require me to remove my shirt..."

Rosalin didn't like the answer, but she didn't push the subject further due to hating arguing with her brother. turning to the dwarf, she said, "Well, If anyone's hungry, I might as well go hunting. Believe me when I say you haven't lived until you've tasted Ryan's smoked boar! I still don't know how he does it! Care to join me in a hunt for a meal?" she extended a hand towards the Dwarf. "So what do you say?"

_________________
If you RP with me, read This Notification

Shoulder Demon: (Looking at controls of train) "Let's see how many times we can wreck this thing before we're all dead."

Shoulder Angel: "Are you crazy?!?!?! you'll get us all killed!!!!!!"

Shoulder Demon: "That's the idea, Moron!"

Thykahm now stood somewhat closer to the two Elves, close enough that he could distinguish some of their features. The male was taller than he, and possessed dirty unkempt brown hair alongside cobalt blue eyes. The woman was slightly shorter than him, and possessed the same blue eyes as her brother Elf alongside sandy blonde hair in a ponytail. As to be expected, their facial features were distinguishable as Elven. However, despite his slight inspection of the two Elves, Thykahm was happy that the pair was more on the side of allies rather than foes.

“Indeed, a terrible situation that, trained soldiers burning down a village is a monstrous act in any interpretation of it.” He said to the male Elf, trying to find some kind of common camaraderie with the man, even if he was an Elf, he and his sister could still be potent allies. “Then let me give a more formal greeting to you, Ryan Koth’ri and Rosalin. I am Thykahm Thaldahr, stone weaver of the Thaldahr clan, here on act to fulfil a grudge against the Green-skinned savages of this forest.” He added, keeping his tone honest and friendly. Perhaps these two Elves may even know of the location of such an Orcish camp.

He was most certainly happy at the prospect of not having the two Elves as foes. Elves can be deadly, despite their odd tactics and weapons. Or at least, they were odd in the eyes of a Dwarf. “Don’t worry about any hostility, being on edge is a given after some military detachment comes and burns down your home. I understand. I can, however, assure you that the Legion isn’t following you, I have been in this area for a while and not seen a trace of them.” He said to Rosalin, the apparent sister of Ryan Koth’ri, he saw some slight resemblance between the two, the eyes especially, but nothing that shrieked identical. Thykahm was about to ask about the Male Elf’s wings when Rosalin stepped in and questioned Ryan about such appendages. After all, winged Elves weren’t exactly normal; or rather they weren’t normal to Thykahm. Ryan did answer her however, but it was deflecting the question, perhaps something strange was afoot? Thykahm couldn’t be sure, but deflecting questions was never a good thing in the least.

“A spare shirt you say? Well, I just so happened upon a small band of Orcs and Goblins a few metres east of here. While the shirt won’t smell all that great, at least those…eh, wings, of yours won’t be apparent.” He realised just how shady that sounded, especially since these Elves had just met him, and he was a stranger to both of them. He had tried to be as honest and friendly as he could be, but perhaps they would still see this as some kind of potential ambush? “I understand if you are inclined not to trust me on such a subject.” He added.

As he waited for a reply, he heeded to words of Rosalin, she spoke of hunting and of how her brother, Ryan’s smoked boar tasted great. “Aye, a hunt may be a good idea. I can get a fire set up in the meantime if you wish, for I fear this heavy armour will make silent movement all but a dream. Plus I possess no bow nor arrows, just an axe and a knife. I fear that I would become something of a liability. But if we set camp here I can leave the armour here, I would just prefer it to remain safe rather than in the hands of some Orc.” He answered, trying to sound friendly in his decline of a hunt. He could hunt with just a knife, quite a few people could, but the armour would take away the entire thought of stealth.

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Eira looked at her home now hidden by the black smoke erupting from her home. She turned away a stray tear falling from her face. She walked toward the direction of the small group. She held her head down tears falling from her face. Even though no one in the village treated her well, it made her heart well with sadness for the young children killed. Her clothes had smoke and blood over it from the kills she made while trying to escape the village.

She froze when she heard voices. "care to join me for a hunt" She head a young woman voice say. She couldn't understand the answer from a gruff sounding man. She jumped in a tree trying not to make a sound. Her years of living with people who tormented her made her weary of strangers. She watched the small group hidden within the tree. She looked back for a minute back at the smoke flying into the sky were her home and many children burned and perished.

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Rivin scratched his nose and leaned against the wooden fence at the edge of the small village, watching the burly, shirtless man split a particularly gnarled looking log, one that had to have come from an ancient tree. Behind the laborer, next to where the dark elf stood watching, there was a stack of neatly split lumber. On the other side of the tree stump he used as his work-surface, a very large pile of uncut logs waited for the man's hatchet.

He felt an inch and scratched his right cheek beneath the eyepatch, wondering if he'd made the right decisions in choosing his line of work. It wasn't like being a full blooded Dark elf, down to the reddish-maroon eyes, grey skin and high cheekbones, left one with a multitude of options. It was either work odd jobs or go into the army, which he had absolutely no desire to do. A life of crime would've been more profitable but would've also required a lot more effort.

"Need some help there, friend?" asked Rivin, as he stuck a hand into the right side pocket of his breeches, where he usually kept his coin. His fingers felt cloth and nothing else, to his disappointment. If pressed he could kill his own lunch, but what he really wanted was a mug of ale, which was out of reach for him if he didn't have the funds to procure it. There was still a small bottle of kavodrum tucked into one of his boots, but it had cost him all the money he had left and he was saving it for an emergency.

Hearing him, the man turned around, an eager smile on his face- woodcutters working out in the sun were always happy to take a break, even if it meant losing a bit of coin. The sun's rays were particularly harsh that afternoon, and the man's cheeks and shoulders were red, as if to prove it.

As soon as the man caught sight of Rivin the smile slid from his face to be replaced by a look of the utmost distrust (precisely the reaction Rivin was expecting).

"You're no friend of mine, firi'wuhn."

Rivin watched him, not upset or surprised in the least- thanks to how often he heard it, the term didn't even bother him anymore. It was being called a deserter that got to him. One day, if enough people shouted it at him, true or not, it would likely earn him an arrow in the back.

"Since you seem so friendly, I find that a little surprising. You want help or not?"

The man, who didn't seem like the sharpest tool in the shed, spat on the ground between them. "Shouldn't you be in the army? Instead of here defiling my fence?"

Rivin released the flimsy, uneven wooden rail and stared down at it, his lone eye wide with mock admiration. "And what a fine fence it is! Even the dwarves would envy its craftsmanship!"

The man stared at him for a moment, appearing to have missed the sarcasm. After a moment he glanced from the large pile of uncut lumber to the blinding sun above them, then back to Rivin. "Two coppers."

"You've got to be kidding," countered Rivin, disgusted. "That's worth at least five."

"I should offer you one, you filthy grey-skinned deserter," the wood cutter spat, before turning back to his task, hefting the hatchet once more.


As Rivin walked away, without breaking stride he whispered something and pointed at the pile of split logs; he was down the road and well on his way when he finally heard shouts behind him. Turning, he saw a thin column of smoke rising up from the edge of the village.

"Joh'wat," he mumbled to himself, pleased- sometimes the only way to educate others was to burn their lumber. He wasn't sure if that was a saying or not, but it seemed like it should have been.

The satisfied grin slipped from his face as he glimpsed the armor of the Empire approaching from up ahead; two soldiers had seen him and were closing in quickly, undoubtedly because they noticed his race and lack of Imperial gear. "Well, here we go again," he said sadly as the two, one a female elf, with only a long knife at her belt, and the other a human male with a sword at his side and a heavy looking shield on his left arm.

"Before you start," he said as the elf opened her mouth, "I'm not a deserter. I showed up for enlistment and they said I was unfit for duty." He could see in her cheekbones and the tone of her skin that she was Dark elven, but only partly. There was no brand visible on her cheek, anyway.

"Why, because of the eyepatch? What, did you look into a mirror?" the male soldier asked with a chuckle, pleased with his joke. Rivin watched him coldly. "Oh yes, I'm ugly. I must say, that's very clever. But it would be funnier if your own face didn't resemble an Orc's backside."

The man's expression darkened and he placed a hand on the hilt of his sword; Rivin watched him warily, wondering if he hadn't gone just a bit too far. He could kill the man with relative ease, but the last thing he wanted to do was use destruction magic in front of an Imperial eyewitness, not to mention any others that might be watching. It would only take one pair of eyes seeing him at the wrong moment to finish him, and he was standing in a wide open area.

The soldier didn't draw his sword, but Rivin wasn't out of the water yet.

"I don't believe him," he said to his comrade, who was watching Rivin with great interest. "Having one eye shouldn't stop him from throwing fireballs. Right?"

"Well, he is a Dark Elf," she replied thoughtfully.

Not liking where things were going, Rivin moved forward, extending his palms; they both started, the female going into a defensive stance and the man tensing up, his sword halfway out of its sheathe before they realized he wasn't attacking them.

"Look," he said, showing them the flame brands on his palms. "See these? They mean I'm too dangerous for the field. If you took me in they'd only write you up for wasting their time and yours."

The elf moved closer to him, her expression somewhat unreadable. "You seem sure of yourself."

"I am, because it's happened before. More than once."

She put a gauntleted hand out, touching his shoulder, her fingers flexing against the taut muscles connecting his arm to his neck. "A shame, you'd make a fine soldier. Very strong…" she added with a smile.

Rivin watched her darkly; her interest was a ploy, he knew. The world had beaten all hopes of romance and friendship out of him, and he knew better than to place his faith in an Imperial- even if she was decent looking.

"I'm not interested in a daughter of filth, Si'akt."

She stared at him in disbelief. "But you… you're a Dark Elf!"

Rivin returned the stare incredulously, with a shrug of his shoulders. "What, I'm not allowed to hate myself? Now you may take your half-firi'wuhn hand off me, if you please. I already bathed this week and I don't have time to waste washing your remnants from my shoulder."

She snatched her hand back as the surprise on her face was replaced by a very ugly look; she glanced at her fellow soldier, who was watching with the shadow of a smirk on his face. "Maybe he'll show us what he's capable of if… pressed," she said with a narrowing of her eyes that told Rivin his mouth had, once again, gotten him into trouble.

She reached out with the same hand, this time shoving him back; he was much heavier than her, but he still allowed himself to be pushed away by a few steps. He needed to put some distance between himself and the pair, or he'd be forced to do exactly what they wanted him to do.

She shoved him again, and he went a few more steps back, realizing he was very close to the tree-line behind him. If he could only make it into the foliage, he could possibly slip away…

The male soldier moved closer, hefting his shield menacingly; Rivin had a good idea of what would be happening next. Just as the man arrived within arm’s reach of him, alongside his comrade, Rivin suddenly turned and fled, releasing a small gasp of desperation as he pumped his legs as quickly as they could go, plunging into the forest.

The metallic sound of armor hitting wood followed right behind him; he swore under his breath, realizing he hadn’t caught them by surprise as he’d intended. He picked an erratic path forward, weaving between trees, turning right, making a sharp left, then sprinting straight forward, desperate to shake off his pursuers.

He could still hear them following, but mercifully it seemed they were a little further behind- at that point Rivin suddenly heard voices to his right, distracting him from his purpose. He heard the delicate sound of a female's voice, Elven he believed, followed by a much more familiar sound- the gruff tone of a Dwarf's speech. He froze and turned, his surprise overpowering all other thoughts- he thought he glimpsed several figures standing in a clearing.

Before he could do more than take two steps towards them, something heavy smashed into the side of his head and the world went black.

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“What was that?!?” Ryan said as the group heard the sound of metal hitting something that definitely wasn’t wood. Running over to where the noise had originated, Ryan saw two soldiers standing over a fallen man he couldn't see very well except to determine he was indeed male.

“Heh, That was too easy!” the one with the shield said. Ryan frowned. he had been picked on as a child, so he knew a bully when he saw one. “Maybe a little fire will get them to leave...” he whispered. It was peculiar, but he knew how to conjure fireballs without the taxing effects his sister suffered. he reasoned it had something to do with his dragon half, but he didn’t openly disclose this with anyone, not even his sister.

Conjuring a fireball, he threw it directly at the man’s head. it hit it’s mark with utmost precision.

…

……

“AAAAAAAUUUUUGGGHHHH! Who threw that!” the man screamed. Turning to the woman, he pointed a finger at her accusingly. “You’re trying to get all the glory by setting me on fire and taking the deserter in yourself, aren't you?”

By this time, his hair was mostly gone, and he had managed to snuff out the flames. “What? But I didn't do that! it came from over there!” she pointed at Ryan’s hiding spot, and he muttered, “Litarco Botari!”

The female was immediately electrocuted with a bolt spell. “This bastard had friends. Let’s get them!” the man spat. Ryan smirked and stomped on the ground forcefully, causing a tremor to emanate around the soldiers.

“That’s not destruction magic!” the female shouted as both of them hit the ground, falling over from the Quake spell. “Let’s get out of her- ack!” she said as an arrow was fired through her throat in one of the only places with no armor. Ryan smiled as he saw his sister with her bow drawn. “Looks like she’s been practicing!” he said. emerging from the hiding spot, he drew the sword that he had thankfully clipped to his belt that morning and pointed it at the downed human male. “I never did like a bully.” he said as the man began trembling

~~~~~

The man sat trembling. this kid didn't even have a speck of armor on his torso or forearms, and his body was covered in scales! “You-You're not real! I didn't sign up for this!” he shouted. Who in their right mind could cause an earthquake and walk into battle without armor? it didn't make sense!

~~~~~

Ryan saw the look he was getting and decided to go along with it. “Don’t think for a second that you can get away, you idiot!” he said smirking coldly. the man looked like he would **** himself any minute. “Don’t kill me!” he screamed.

“Should have thought of that before you attempted to knock this fellow unconscious!” Ryan gestured toward the form of the man who he was “saving”. Then he grabbed the freaked out soldier and cut through his neck in one swift motion as the man screamed. dropping the corpse he walked over to his sister, who was examining the man they had rescued. “Is that a Dark Elf? We need to know why he was being chased. He might know why those people burned our village! Get him to the others. and tie him up!” Ryan said, then he walked over to the man he had killed and removed the armor, finding a large shirt underneath. “He won't be needing this anymore!” he said as he put it on. it was a bit big, but Ryan’s shoulder blades made up for the excess fabric.

As the group waited for the Dark Elf to awaken after tying him up, Ryan heard rustling above him. “Great! just what we need, more company!” using his powerful legs, he jumped into the tree and grabbed the spying elf before she could escape. “Who do you work fo- Eira? I thought we were the only ones who got away!” he exclaimed when they all got a good look at her after he brought her down with the others.

_________________
If you RP with me, read This Notification

Shoulder Demon: (Looking at controls of train) "Let's see how many times we can wreck this thing before we're all dead."

Shoulder Angel: "Are you crazy?!?!?! you'll get us all killed!!!!!!"

Shoulder Demon: "That's the idea, Moron!"

Eira watched the two people knocked the dark elf out. She stood there not wanting to reveal her hide away. She looked back at the group to see the man that was with the girl walk toward the two people. She watched as he threw a fire ball at the two people. She hide a laugh as the man cried out in pain. When he electrocuted the girl eira seemed shocked. She had never seen anyone use that before.

Eira held on to the tree as the ground shook. She then watched as they ran off. She smiled moving slightly in the tree causing the leaves to move. She cursed under her breath. She tried to punch ryan as he grab her but couldn't seem to find the energy to do so. She was covered in blood and soot. Her hair was in a messy pony tale and her eyes seemed weary of the group.

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Thykahm was awaiting a response from the pair of Elves when he heard what sounded like a terrific ‘thud’ of metal hitting something akin to bare flesh. ‘What was that?!’ He heard Ryan shout in surprise before running off to the source of the sound. Thykahm decided that it would be beat to follow, and investigate what this peculiar sound was. Following the source of the sound, he saw two armed soldiers standing over what looked like a man. Apparently they must have hit him quite hard, as the man was sprawled across the floor. Perhaps these soldiers knew about the village burnings earlier? Maybe they had even taken part in the settlement’s destruction. Monstrous either way. ‘Heh, that was too easy!’ One of the armed soldiers said, apparently boasting over the ability to hit an unarmed man with a heavy shield. A bully was the correct term for such a person.

The Dwarf was just about ready to storm in there and attack the soldiers with his axe when he felt an extremely hot object fly past his head, aside from scaled wings; apparently Ryan knew how to throw fireballs as well. Magic was a strange and fickle art, and Thykahm didn’t exactly feel all too comfortable around the stuff. Dwarves had lived without magic for literal ages; they can live yet more without it. However, for all his mistrust, the fireball did indeed hit its target: the head of one of the soldiers. His head burst into a searing inferno of flame and burning hair, but the damage didn’t seem to be that serious, despite the apparent dangers of having one’s head set on fire. The soldier apparently didn’t know where the fire came from at first, as he blamed the female that stood alongside him, fool.

The woman didn’t seem too fazed by such an accusation, responding ‘What? But I didn’t do that! It came from over there!’ Her words were cut somewhat short, as Ryan shouted an arcane incarnation, sending out a bolt of lightning at the woman. Electrocuting her. But the Elf wasn’t finished; stomping on the ground he caused some kind of earthquake around the feet of the soldiers. So much magic flying around wasn’t exactly reassuring to Thykahm, but at least it was being wielding by someone that he considered an ally. The Elf even had scales! What sorcery was this!? Apparently the targeted the woman who was with the soldier thought more or less the same thing, crying out, ‘that’s not destruction magic!’ Before falling to the ground, and receiving an arrow into her throat from Rosalin.

Ryan was apparently enjoying this greatly, saying to the terrified male soldier on the ground ‘don’t think for a second that you can get away, you idiot!’ He was met with the terrified response of the soldier, who screamed ‘Don’t kill me!’ Despite the soldiers horrific ways, perhaps it would be better to actually let him live, maybe he would possess information, Thykahm thought as he listened to the two men’s exchange of words. The next part was a tad bloody, as Ryan moved forwards the downed soldier, cutting his neck and killing him before proceeding over to his sister. Thykahm was rather amazed with the ferocity of the Elven duo, they certainly knew what they were doing in a fight, which made having them as potential allies all the better. Walking over to the man that was lying on the ground, Thykahm took a look at him, he was apparently a Dark Elf man…and he must be somewhat important, for those soldiers to attack him. Maybe he was a deserter? Or ex-soldier that knew a little too much. Either was possible, but the thought of the soldiers that would certainly be looking for their comrades weighed just a tad heavier on Thykahm’s mind. But at least defensive fighting was his expertise.

There was a faint rustling of the trees above them; something larger than just than a passive squirrel was about, but only a short while would tell if the person, or creature, was friendly or not. Ryan seemed to already be on the case, as he leapt up into the trees and collared the would be stalker. Thykahm didn’t exactly hear what he said to her, being more occupied with sizing up just how large the potential fighting force they may soon meet would be, probably rather large given the size of most armies, especially the legion. He took note however when Ryan came down from the tree, he was with someone, a Dark Elf by appearance, but Thykahm could never be too sure when it came to Elven folk.


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Dar’Rabiisi had been gathering for a fair while now in an area not too far away from the Elven settlement that she lived in. She was clad in leather armour, in a rather tribal-like style, meaning that some of her hybrid markings would be visible. Though she still felt living in one place to be particularly strange, after all, a nomadic life of hunting and rarely visiting cities or villages had made its impression upon the Khajiit/Elf hybrid. Thus far, she had gathered a large pouch full of edible plants from large ripe berries to herbs and fruits. Despite her aptitude with a short bow, she never liked the thought of killing a living creature, even if they were threatening her, running was far better and resulted in less bloodshed for both sides. Her role in the villages seemed to be something of a food gatherer, since food was always valuable wherever people resided.

She had walked for quite some time now, back from the gathering spot to the village where she resided. But, something was odd. Thick black smoke was rising from the location of the village, perhaps it was just a large bonfire? Walking a few more steps, she found the cause of the smoke. The village lay in burned ruins, homes and buildings were reduced to charred rubble. A whole village, just, gone. Destroyed by some outsider most likely, who didn’t live within the village, unless one person’s clumsy mistake did this. But there was nothing she could do, nothing left. Anyone who was there when the apparent fire happened was likely to be dead and reduced to ash. She had pretty much all of her possessions on her at this point, weapons, clothing, and sustenance. There was little choice but to just leave and find someplace else, and that is what she did.

Placing her longknife back in its sheath, she walked westwards. Not really knowing where to go or what to expect from the people there, if there was any people in that direction. As a precautionary measure, she climbed the nearest tree, her small size and tail often made her look like an animal rather than a person. Hoping from tree to tree she travelled. However, she soon stopped upon coming across the corpses of two Orcs and a Goblin. That had been killed by a large blade, as evident by the cut marks on their being. One was killed by a large slash down its shoulder and chest, and the others were in similar states, with the other Orc missing its head and the Goblin’s back having been broken by something powerfully strong. Jumping down from her tree, she searched the bodies, coming up with nothing of real value as to be expected from creatures like them, just a few coins that she placed on one of her armour’s various pouches.

Instead of climbing a tree again, she stayed on the ground this time. In the dirt were relatively fresh tracks left by something heavy, or something wearing heavy armour. It probably wasn’t wise, but she decided to follow it, since it seemed strong enough to kill these savages, perhaps the person would even prove to be friendly…but she could just run if not. Following the tracks for several minutes, she spotted a group a several people huddled together. They were certainly larger folk that she was, but one of them wore strange, metal armour and had a large beard, maybe a Dwarf? Alongside him stood a few others that looked vaguely elven in stance and outline, but she couldn’t be sure. Ducking down, which reduced her already diminutive height, she crept behind the group, curious as to their actions here in the forest. The way they stood together suggested that they were friendly, but there was a man lying on the ground, murderers?! She couldn’t be sure unless she got closer, heightening the risk of being heard by one of them. Proceeding on, she avoided a patch where many twigs had fallen from a larger tree, but not well enough. She stepped directly onto one of the twigs, snapping it and producing a most certainly audible sound. Instead of trying her luck further, she bolted back in the direction she had come from…

_________________

Rivin's eyes opened, then immediately shut tight again as a sharp pain lanced through his skull; he felt like his head had been split wide open. He took several deep breaths, fighting off the feeling of nausea setting into his stomach- he wondered if he hadn't suffered a concussion. He opened his eyes again, blinking in the bright sunlight that was pouring down into the clearing.

From his position on the ground he saw, in spite of his blurry vision, the backs of two individuals, who appeared to be carrying on some kind of conversation with a third person. Their voices were echoes to his ears, close as they were, and he was incapable of making out any of it. He tried to rise, but found himself unable to move his arms. He stared down, his heart racing as he saw that they had been tied securely to his sides.

He thought he could escape with a fire cloak- the only problem was that he was incredibly weak at the moment, and casting that particular spell could very well leave him too drained to escape- or, he thought as he watched the others in the clearing, to fight off his new enemies.

He tried to relax, taking deep breaths- if his experience told him anything, it was best to remain silent and wait. Luck was seldom on his side.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"So... what do we do?" Ryan asked. "We can't just say he can join us! He's a Dark Elf, and once the empire finds out that we killed two of theirs to do nothing but free one of theirs, it will look like we ambushed them and one got away! he knows where our location is, too."

His sister interjected at this point, and said "I say we ask him what they were doing picking on him in the first place, but first, we need to deal with why Eira was spying on us." Turning sharply towards Eira, Rosalin asked in a very angry tone, "You aren't a spy for the Empire are you? For all we know, YOU led them to our village, and followed us to kill us as well!"

This caused Ryan to turn to Eira and frown. it made a bit of sense even if it WAS just an assumption.

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Eira looked at them calmly as they discussed what to do with the dark elf. She seemed shocked at they even saved a dark elf. She looked over at him to see him start to wake. She didn't say anything though.

When Rosalin turned to her with an angry expression. "I am no spy Rosalin i would never cause harm to anyone! And even if i wanted to cause harm to the village why would i go to the people who killed my mother! you were there that day! you saw them take her!" She walked toward Rosalin till she was inches from her. "Just because i am half dark elf doesn't mean i naturally want to cause harm to any one of you" She turned away from the two.

She then turned back a few moments later her face back to its normal impassive self. "I killed six of those people trying to kill innocent children" A stray tear fell from her face. "i would never kill innocent children"

She looked toward the dark elf tied up. "It looks like he woke up"

_________________
If you RP with me, read This Notification

Shoulder Demon: (Looking at controls of train) "Let's see how many times we can wreck this thing before we're all dead."

Shoulder Angel: "Are you crazy?!?!?! you'll get us all killed!!!!!!"

Shoulder Demon: "That's the idea, Moron!"

With a jolt Rivin realized that everyone in the clearing was looking at him- so much for staying silent and unnoticed. He cleared his throat, unsure of whom to speak to, so he decided to just speak to the clearing as a whole.

"Greetings, friends. If you'd be so kind as to untie me, I will be on my merry way." He smiled good-naturedly up at them, finally able to discern their faces. There were three Elves, two of them appearing to be full Liey'n, and the other a Si'akt. There was also a Dwarf- when Rivin saw him, he nearly did a double-take; for some reason he looked very familiar. Undoubtedly Rivin had crossed his path at some point in the past. He grew up alongside a small kingdom of the short but stout people, after all.

When no one moved to untie him, Rivin's smile turned into a display of gritted teeth as his jaw clenched with annoyance. "I assure you, my good travelers, I am no deserter, nor am I an agent of your enemies, whoever they might be. I am but a simple woodcutter, seeking out honest pay for honest work. Will you please untie me?"

When he was answered with silence yet again, the gritted teeth transformed from a poor attempt at a smile into a full-fledged snarl of fury.

"Untie me right now, you tree hugging, Empire loving, boot-licking bastards! I'll boil the sweat off your skin! I'll burn the back hair off your mothers! I'll… I'll…"

His words trailed off into a whisper as a bout of lightheadedness assailed him; sadly enough, it seemed that he was too hurt to even yell properly. He heard the distinctive sound of earth being crunched under someone's boots as someone in the clearing drew closer to him, but by the time they reached his side he'd already lost consciousness again.

_________________

"Greetings, friends. If you'd be so kind as to untie me, I will be on my merry way." the dark elf tied to the tree said. She wanted to laugh at his attempt to get free but instead like everyone else ignored him. She saw him clench his jaw as he started to get angry. "I assure you, my good travelers, I am no deserter, nor am I an agent of your enemies, whoever they might be. I am but a simple woodcutter, seeking out honest pay for honest work. Will you please untie me?" She looked at him but didnt say anything she didnt understand how any dark elf could ever be honest.

Thought being a half dark elf she understand them better then others. She saw him become angry "Untie me right now, you tree hugging, Empire loving, boot-licking bastards! I'll boil the sweat off your skin! I'll burn the back hair off your mothers! I'll… I'll…" She walked over to him, drawing her dagger and putting the blade next to his throat. "Don't ever say we bow down to the Empire," she said in a voice that was both cold and low. "Last I checked, we hold the advantage here. What're you going to do if we don't untie you, anyway? I'd advise you to shut your mouth before I kill you," she said as she moved the knife away from his neck and stepped back.

At that point she saw that he was no longer awake. Hoping he at least heard some of her threats before passing out, she turned to the others. "What do you think we should do with him? Personally, I'm all for cutting his head off."

_________________

Ryan took a step closer to their newly acquired prisoner. he looked him over searching for anything that would be accredited to him not being a threat. All he found on him was a wooden axe and a small flask of dwarven alcohol. "I don't think he's a threat to us. more like a victim that we saved from soldiers intent on taking him in. Here, look at his palms." he held up the Dark Elf's hands for the group to see. "That symbol they branded his hands with must mean something. We'll ask him when he wakes up."

Ryan began untying the Dark Elf. His sister approached him and exclaimed nervously, "What do you think you're doing? he could kill us!"

"I most seriously doubt it." Ryan countered. "Besides, if we don't untie him, he'll burn through the ropes and run, but if we do he's more likely to give us answers. I for one want to know why he was being chased in the first place, Don't you?." and he cut the ropes that bound their captive.

_________________
If you RP with me, read This Notification

Shoulder Demon: (Looking at controls of train) "Let's see how many times we can wreck this thing before we're all dead."

Shoulder Angel: "Are you crazy?!?!?! you'll get us all killed!!!!!!"

Shoulder Demon: "That's the idea, Moron!"

Rivin woke again with a start; he instinctively tried to move his arms, and found that, miraculously enough, he was no longer restrained. His eyes whipped around the clearing; one of the Elves, the male, was standing fairly close and was undoubtedly the one who had untied him. Instinctively, he rolled over several times, creating some room between them, before springing up to his feet.

Why'd they cut my ropes? Are they stupid? he thought as he stared around at them distrustfully. He knew better than to assume they had done it as an act of kindness. Perhaps they planned to kill him, and they simply didn't have the stomach to slay an elf while he was still tied up.

He shifted his attention from the trio of Elves to the Dwarf, who, like the others, was watching him warily. While the Elves looked dangerous to an extent (particularly the Si'akt, who had a murderous gleam in her eye), it was the Dwarf that he feared above the rest. His magic would be next to useless against him.

Once, when he was eight years old, a Dwarf working in the mines near his home had plunged into a pool of stagnant water and had emerged, sputtering and shivering, calling for the Dark Elf child they had all grown accustomed to having around. Rivin had stared at him, lost for words, as he demanded the young Elf throw several fireballs at him. By the third one he was dry, and the fourth nearly singed the end of his beard- but aside from that the man was unharmed.

Although back then Rivin was nowhere near as magically powerful as he became later on (by the time he was 15 he could open his hands and form ten miniature fireballs, one at the end of each individual finger), the experience had taught him something very valuable. "If you ever need to kill a Dwarf with magic," the miner had told him as he hefted his pickaxe to resume his work, "you'd better make sure you have room to run."


Rivin could see that this particular Dwarf had an enormous battle-axe on his person, and although he thankfully hadn't drawn it, Rivin knew that this was most certainly a case of not having enough room to run. Between the Dwarf, three elves and very little open space around them, it was no wonder they'd felt safe untying him. Against these odds he stood no chance.

Suddenly remembering something, he stared around, seeking out the last member of the group. When he was lying on the ground, he had distinctly heard a fifth person, moving around outside the clearing.

Unless… of course, it's a trap! The last member of the party is probably up in a tree, an arrow already aimed at my neck, he thought as he stared up, alarmed, his eyes searching the branches overhead. "Where is he? I know I heard someone else. Over there," he gestured, pointing off to where he'd heard the rustling and the snapping of a dry twig. "What are you trying to pul-"

He broke off, glimpsing something in the Elf man's grasp. It was his flask of kavodrum. Instantly, all other thoughts and considerations were swept aside.

"Gah! That's mine!" he said with a snarl, as if his firstborn child was being abducted in front of his very eyes. "If you're going to kill me so be it, but I'll be damned if I'm going to stand here and watch you drink my kavodrum."

A small fireball the size of an orange formed in the palm of his left hand, without his even realizing it- they sometimes formed when he was agitated, but they never launched themselves without his intent behind them. He glanced down at it, and it shrunk down to the size of a marble. He returned his stare to the Elf.

"I swear, if there's even a sip missing…" he said as the ball of fire grew to the size of an apple, then wavered, shifting down to marble size once more.

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Thykahm has asked himself with observing the surrounding area, rather than questioning their new found captive. The Dark Elf didn’t seem all that threatening, but it people like that you needed to keep an eye upon, lest you find a dagger to your neck at the worst of times. For what the Dwarf could see, there was nothing but lush forest around them, a perfect place for an ambushed by roving bands of Orcs and Goblins. Beings that allegedly supposed to be swarming in this part of the world. Perhaps the scouts were wrong after all. Stopping in place, he knelt down slowly, trying not to make too much noise with his armour, and placed a hand upon the earth. It was an old Dwarven proverb that one true of the stone, a Dwarf, could tell certain traits about the very stone beneath them. Of course, that was mainly it, a proverb spoken by Dwarven miners when finding large quantities of precious, or useful, materials. But there were some small amount of individuals that could actually get a small glimpse at the stone through nothing but a touch…people like that were rare, and legends always sprouted about them. However he did find something rather strange. A large, oddly coloured rock made from something extremely hard that certainly wasn’t just stone. He picked the thing up and placed it in his knapsack, he would have the chief engineers examine it upon his return to the mountains.

While Thykahm was certainly not one of those individuals, he could work a few things out from the stone. Beneath them was completely solid, no tunnels, no cavities nor caves. Which was good, it lessened the chances of Orc and Goblin hideouts underneath the very ground itself. As a bearer of a grudge it was his job to seek out the target of his grudge and eliminate them or otherwise do to them and they have done unto clan. He was fairly assured that there were no wandering green-skins in the immediate vicinity, when he heard what sounded like a twig snapping, then someone, or something, running through vegetation. He wasn’t all too bothered about that either. It was probably some animal that managed to scare itself. Walking back over to the new captive Dark Elf, he listened to his…threat. "Untie me right now, you tree hugging, Empire loving, boot-licking bastards! I'll boil the sweat off your skin! I'll burn the back hair off your mothers! I'll… I'll…" Now, if there was one thing you shouldn’t do, was taunt a Dwarf’s ancestors and kin. Even if the threat wasn’t aimed at him, Thykahm still felt some anger at the Dark Elf’s words.

It seemed that the newest addition to the group had taken particular offense to that, placing her blade next to the man’s throat. Thykahm half expected her to just kill him, after all, Dark Elves weren’t exactly the most predictable of folk, like their Elven cousins. The man had apparently been harmed very badly by the shield slamming into his head, which made Thykahm feel somewhat proud given how a Dwarf could probably just shrug something like that off with just a headache. He glanced behind himself once more, checking that the twig snapping wasn’t anything serious; again, it was likely just some elk or something. When he turned back to face the captive, Ryan was in the process of untying him. Which wasn’t wise. “Are you sure about this?” He asked, it wasn’t a case of not being able to stop the Dark Elf, but rather making him talk. Apparently the Elf thought it wise, as he let the man free of his bindings, the man himself awakening just slightly after with a bit of a start. He watched the awoken Dark Elf look around him, perhaps in some form of delusion? He didn’t know much about head wounds, but allegedly people could experience delusions after taking a blow to the head…but that is what he had heard from the Clan’s healers.

The man seemed to be in something of a daze, until he sighted his small bottle of Dwarven alcohol in the hands of someone else. He lunged forwards the holder; apparently enraged at the thought of someone touching his booze…perhaps he had some Dwarven traits after all!

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Dar’Rabiisi kept on running, putting step after step between her and the group of potential murders. She was rather frightened, as to be expected, and her tail was pointed upwards, reflecting her fear. That was her plan, she would hide in a tree and hope that no saw her. Scrambling up the nearest tree, she found a thick branch and crouched upon it. Had someone given her a glancing look, she would have probably appeared to be some form of jungle cat…but in a forest, and wearing armour. She left her weapons in their sheathes, if she was caught, then fighting wouldn’t really be an option. She could probably run faster than most of them, especially the stout man in the armour.

From her perch, she could no longer see the murderers, but she could always take a guess about what they were doing. She wagered that they would be likely be searching, but only if they had heard the twig snapping. If not then she was more or less free to leave. But she doubted the latter greatly…

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Ryan let out a chuckle, and shrugged. This Dark Elf obviously hadn't seen him before. Fire? Really? That was the least of Ryan's worries. Hell, he had once put out a stovetop fire with his palm, and emerged without a single burn. to demonstrate this fact, he walked towards the Dark Elf and extinguished the flame by wrapping his fingers around it and forming a fist to give it no oxygen. He smiled.

"You were saying?" he said, opening his palm to show no burn marks of any kind. He tossed the small kavodrum canteen at the Dark Elf. "Now then, We have a few questions to ask you. Firstly, Why were those -for lack of a better term- bullies knocking you out?" Since the Dark Elf didn't answer straight away, he continued. "Secondly, do you or do you not know why the Empire burned and killed the entire village west of here, and Thirdly... your earlier threats make you sound more like an enemy than a friend, so being the goodnatured person that I am, I am going to need some sort of proof that you can be trusted. If you can provide it, I will without hesitation offer you my friendship. Otherwise, Well... since I am trying not to vomit over beheading the man who assaulted you, I shall allow miss Eira or Thykahm here to do what I did to your assailant."

~~~~~

Rosalin meanwhile, had left the others when she heard the twig snap and was now looking around for the one who made the noise. "He-hello?" she called out. "I really hope that was just a bug... I don't want to die because one of those stupid 'Shadow Legion' bastards followed us..." she said as she walked directly under Dar’Rabiisi's hiding spot.

_______________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Sagaan walked through the village, calmly observing the damage/looking at corpses, etc. Although his features were fully composed, he was furious.

The village was a dead end. Nothing but a waste of time.

He suddenly caught sight of a trio of soldiers, 2 Dark elves and a human, approaching quickly; Sagaan had only to see the way they moved to know something important had happened.

"M'lord, we caught two Orcs attempting to slip past our perimeter. They claim to be bringing a message for you."

"Bring them to me," Makado said curtly.

The soldier bowed and jogged away, the two elves following in his wake on either side.

Strange… Orcs tend to keep their distance. They know the Dwarves no longer fight with the Empire's support. They know better than to draw our attention.

He could now see that two people were approaching, surrounded by five men in Empire gear; the Orcs had their heads bowed down, and their wrists were shackled together with by a device consisting of a thick metal chain and 2 manacles.

Sagaan, abruptly deciding that the street near the end of the village was hardly a good place to conduct an interrogation, turned and surveyed the building behind him. It appeared to be in decent condition, and had evidently escaped the flames that had engulfed the majority of the village during the attack.

He walked inside, gesturing to the men that their visitors be brought in behind him. As he entered the dwelling, he noticed one thing immediately- there was a hole in the ceiling. He peered up at it, frowning thoughtfully; deciding he couldn't come up with a reasonable explanation for it, he did at least recognize that it was roughly large enough to accommodate the shape of a person. Directly beneath the hole, he spotted a shirt, and a chain mail shirt of a similar size. Something about them seemed peculiar. He rolled them into a bundle and threw them onto a table in the corner of the room, making a mental note to take a closer look at them when he had some time.

The Orcs were pushed roughly into the cottage; the soldiers behind them looked questioningly at Sagaan, who waved them off. They exchanged a look amongst themselves but remained silent, leaving him alone with the prisoners.


Sagaan did not fear for his own safety- Orcs were not unknown to him. His father had made sure of it, telling him the savages would one day rise up as they did thousands of years before, before the Empire's formation, when the lands were covered by their foul flesh and jagged blades.

One of the Orcs was quite large, although his shoulders were rounded and his back had a rather severe hunch as if he'd ruined his posture through years of heavy toiling. His sharp fang-like teeth poked out from beneath his lips even though his mouth was closed, and his yellowish eyes seemed listless and confused. It took half a glance for Sagaan to deduce that it was the Orc's smaller companion who was the brains of the operation.

He wasn't quite a Goblin, but he was obviously a mix of some sort. He was around medium height, as tall as a larger Khajiit, with a pointed chin and slanted eyes that never seemed to stay still, darting from Sagaan, to Kahat and back as if trying to measure them up. While his comrade seemed somewhat lost, he looked to be more on the nervous side.

"I am told you have a message for me," Makado began, his attention fixed on the smaller of the Orcs. "Out with it, then."

"You are Sagaan," the small half-orc replied in a voice that sounded like a raspy whisper, "Chief described you well. Tall and cold, eyes like ice. Skulk and Rap honored to stand before great Sagaan, Lord of all men," he added with the shadow of a grin, the large brute beside him nodding his head in agreement.

The attempt at flattery did nothing but instill Sagaan with a pang of impatience. "The message. Now."

"Yes, Sagaan is man of action, no idle chat. Our Chief, Urghakursh Blackblade, most powerful of all forest chiefs, knows what you seek."

"What does your chief know of me?" Sagaan inquired, his eyes staring holes through the half-Goblin.

"Blackblade knows all. He is great shaman, has all answers. Chief knows you razed village of Elves to the ground. Chief knows you seek object of great power. Chief has this object."

Sagaan felt the edges of his lips twitch; he suddenly knew where this was going.

"Chief will gladly give you," finished the half-Orc, who Makado assumed was the one called Skulk.

"Really? And is the Chief going to do this out of the kindness of his heart?"

The swarthy creature smiled again, displaying two rows of razor sharp teeth. "Chief will give you what you want. In exchange for lending Orcs aid against ghrizaams."

"Your Chief is offering me what I seek in exchange for help driving the Dwarves from the mountains?"

"Sagaan speaks truly," Skulk responded, still grinning wickedly. "Service for service."

These creatures believe they know my mind, and that they can use their supposed knowledge to manipulate me. A terrible mistake has been made, one that will forever change the future of their race, he thought grimly.

Sagaan smiled. "Your Chief has a deal."

The orcs, both Rap and Skulk grinned, their faces indicating a mixture of pleasure and relief.

The fools.

Losengrad had been listening halfheartedly from his guard post outside as the Orcs had foolishly tried to barter. He smirked, noting their mistake all too soon. He turned heel and walked inside to not only examine the house, but to end the Orcs miserable existence if Sagaan were to “decline” their offer. He pretended to be observing the house, first out of boredom, then out of curiosity when he too noticed the hole in the roof. He moved over to where Sagaan had tossed the shirt and chainmail, and let himself sneer. So this massacre wasn’t a total loss, then. He was not about to lose the trail now…

“Sir, allow me to assemble a group to escort them back to their leader. We will deliver our help as a gesture of goodwill.” he said, feigning agreement to the deal as well. he planned on finding the Orc’s camp and killing them. All of them. but he didn’t say this aloud.

Sagaan watched Losengrad closely as he made his suggestion; although the General didn’t mention what was really on his mind, Sagaan recognized it on his face. Without speaking on it, they both knew precisely what needed to be done. And of course, the Orcs remained oblivious to all of it.

“Skulk and Rap, my General will escort you back to your camp to ensure your safety. As well as to send along my regards to Chief Blackblade.”

Skulk stared up at Losengrad for a moment, his eyes unreadable, but then nodded after a moment, appearing to be somewhat reassured. Rap didn’t seem to care either way- Sagaan wondered if the creature was capable of even stringing two words together.

Frowning, he realized it didn’t matter. He was certain they’d both be dead within the next few hours.

“General,” he said with a faint smile, “I leave our honored guests in your care.” The Orcs turned and began moving towards the exit, their chains clinking with every step. Sagaan caught Losengrad’s eye one last time before the latter could leave.

“Don’t disappoint me.”

Losengrad had his mind on how he was going to… dispose of… the Orc Chief when he heard his Lordship say those three words. “Like I need to be told what NOT to do.” he muttered, knowing that Sagaan wouldn’t be able to do much even if he did disappoint him. Walking over to one of the Lieutenants whom he had personally promoted to said position, he clicked his tongue three times, then said “Gather a group of soldiers and prepare them with full armor and weapons. we leave to… assist, the Orcs in twenty minutes.”

The lieutenant nodded and selected a group of twenty well armed able bodied men. Losengrad saw out of the corner of his eyes that the Orc/Goblin mix… Skull was it? had a glee filled murderous look in his eyes. it almost made him sorry the smaller Orc would die by his blade… almost.

The trek to the Orc’s camp was relatively silent. When they got to a crudely made opening in a hillside, Losengrad smiled sinisterly. his smile faded when they found Orcs with large clubs in an ambush.

“Skulk! Chief see they traitorous!” Losengrad heard one of the orcs say as he raised his shield to block a spiked club aimed at his neck. “Well now, this makes things easier. Search and destroy! Don’t come back unless you have the Chief’s head!” he shouted.

Several shrieks later, the group of Orcs decided to run for it. THAT **** off the General. Well that is, until he saw a group of torches in the distant trees. “We've been duped! First one to retrieve the chief’s corpse gets promoted to head of my personal guard!” he shouted. unfortunately the Orcs were on their way to escaping.

“After them you dogs!” he shouted.

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If you RP with me, read This Notification

Shoulder Demon: (Looking at controls of train) "Let's see how many times we can wreck this thing before we're all dead."

Shoulder Angel: "Are you crazy?!?!?! you'll get us all killed!!!!!!"

Shoulder Demon: "That's the idea, Moron!"

Rivin deftly caught the flask, glancing down at his now flame-less hand with a smirk. "Oh, I'm so impressed! You managed to extinguish a fireball the size of a pea. I'm humbled by your power, master," he said as he offered a mocking bow, bending at the waist then quickly rising back up.

At the corner of his eye he noticed that the youngest of the Elves was searching for something just beyond the limits of the clearing. Perhaps they weren't hiding another group member after all. Strangely, the thought did little to ease his concerns.

He returned his stare to the male Elf; the Liey'n was annoying, there was no doubt about that. And that smug look on his face was nothing if not unnerving- although come to think of it, there was something vaguely familiar about the man's features, though it was impossible for him to identify. Then he realized the Elf, annoying or not, had asked him several questions. He supposed there was no harm in answering them.

"As for my friends over there," he indicated the corpses off to one side that the Elf had pointed out to him, "there is a better term for them. I prefer Imperial garbage. Or perhaps spineless cowards, if you're seeking some variety."

He held up the hand not clutching the kavodrum, indicating the brand located at the center of his palm. "When I reported for enlistment they told me I was unfit for duty. Too dangerous for the field," he said as he pointed at the eyepatch covering up the spot where his right eye should have been. "Those two soldiers didn't believe me. Which is why they decided to bestow upon me the love of the Empire."

His monologue was met with momentary silence as the group undoubtedly pondered on his words; he glanced west, remembering the next question he'd been asked. "A village burned and killed, eh?"

He took a deep breath in through his nose, inhaling slowly. The scent was mostly gone now, but earlier it had been unmistakable. "I thought I smelled it. Destruction," he added thoughtfully. "But I was unaware of any villages being attacked. If it was around here, I presume it was a Liey'n settlement? Which means," he deduced as he studied the two Elves standing in front of him, "you have suffered losses." He could see in their faces that they had- they had undoubtedly seen death, and much of it.

"Death brings an end to pain, at least," he said softly, almost as if speaking to himself but still loud enough to be heard. "At times it can even be considered a kindness. Preferable to living," he added with a joyless grin. "As for why the Empire would do such a thing, I've given up asking myself that question a long time ago," he finished sadly, abruptly forgetting his anger.

They had no idea- no one did. For all he knew Rivin was the only Dark Elf in all of Argonafht to be thrice-branded- the only one constantly under attack from every direction, met with hatred and distrust at every turn. There was no safety, not for someone like him.

Then he remembered the last thing the Liey'n Elf had asked him for, and felt his annoyance return.

"I thought I was the one missing an eye. Are you blind? I am a damned Dark Elf! Full blooded! You expected me to wake up, tied up, and assume I was amongst long-lost friends? How long would I have lived with such foolish thoughts in my head? My corpse would be nothing but dust by now, my name remembered by none. I am what I needed to become, in order to survive. I am what this world has made me."


Rivin didn't know anything about this Elf or his purposes, but at the same time he figured someone trying to trick him would try harder to be less irritating. No, this one was annoying as only an honest person could be. Also, he hadn't taken anything from his flask, not even a sip. Rivin could appreciate that, at least.


"You want a reason to trust me? I hate to disappoint you, but there exists no such proof. And you would be a fool to accept any I tried to offer you."

Rivin sat down on the ground, crossing his legs under him. He stared down at the soil, wondering if today was the day he would find peace. Perhaps he should've been more trusting of others in his youth. Then he would be dead, without the need to worry about anything.

"You speak of trust and friendship as if they are cheaply bought and easily granted- tell me, how long have you been on the road, in the wilderness? My guess is not long at all, for there is much you have not yet learned. Trust earns the knife. The roads are treacherous, and contain more dangers than only the Empire."

He fingered the long scar running down his right forearm; years before, a beautiful, smiling Liey'n girl had befriended him and eventually taken him to her bed, promising him a night he would never forget. Later, he had awoken to find the girl and her brother standing over him, seconds away from slitting his throat. The gash he received on his arm instead healed in time, but he just barely escaped the town with his life after being accused of murdering the siblings in cold blood when all he'd done was defend himself.

But it was my mistake, he thought bitterly. I chose to trust, fool that I was.


His head was throbbing slightly, the pain pulsating across his skull from the point where he'd been hit. Joh'wat… he regretted not being conscious when the man was killed. Would've been nice to see it.

"Perhaps if I cared more I would try to convince you that I can be trusted. But I'm tired," he said as he uncorked the flask and took a swig. The liquor burned its way down his throat, warming him from the inside out. He reluctantly replaced the stopper, deciding it wouldn't be prudent to drink it all in case he lived another day. Just in case.

"I'm tired, and I feel that a man trying to deceive you would probably do a better job of persuading you than I could. I can only speak the truth as I see it. However, I think your other offer sounds acceptable," he said as he glanced up at the female Elf, smiling as he glimpsed the knife hanging at her side.

"If, what was it? Era? The Si'akt. If she wishes to behead me then she's welcome to it, although my only request would be that she avoid messing up her pretty finge-"

Rivin stopped mid sentence, his eyes widening and his mouth opening as a sudden realization dawned on him.

The fireball had been very small, but a full Liey'n Elf would have been burned at least a little bit. This Elf, however, had snuffed it out as if he hadn't felt it at all. And there was the fact that the man had seemed vaguely familiar to him…

He stared up at him, having finally figured it out.

"You're a Dark Elf."

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Dar-Rabiisi held her breath as a female Elf walked under her hiding place. She was shaking with utter terror, she assumed that these people were some kind of criminals, like bandits, that robbed and killed their way the land. Her plan thus far however, had been working; she had positioned herself to look like some kind of small cat-creature that was resting itself upon a branch. It was a disguise she had been practicing for quite a few years now, and seemed to work more or less. But it didn’t stop the horrible terror that she felt when pursued by other people. It was going so fell, until a stray berry fell from the pouch upon her hip, landing upon the floor with a dull ‘thud.’ It was most certainly noticeable, and in response she sat up, quietly, and prepared herself to either run or talk her way out of the situation.

She had heard tales of cruel and horrific Elves that hunted people like beasts just for some kind of morbid pleasure, and even used people as slave-workers in some cases. For all their grace and peaceful nature, there were always evil people within any race, and given the current situation, Dar-Rabiisi simply had to assume that this woman was one of those people, one of those people that would murder someone just for fun, or do even worse to them.
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Thykahm listened to the conversation between Ryan and the Dark Elf man with only mild interest. His people had always naturally distrusted Elves, seeing them as far too, different and odd. They changed too much and allowed change to consume them, rather than resist it and continue on with their own customs like his people did in their fortresses and keeps. Even their buildings were plain weird! They built structures like the humans did flimsy and lacking in durability. Stone was the only material that could stand for several centuries and still be as strong as the day it was carved out. But, for all their frivolities and odd habits, the Elves had redeeming traits that meant that they were bearable to be around. Dark Elves however did not often possess these redeeming traits; they were often times just horrible folk that viewed everyone around them as potential enemies and foes. But, that was perhaps just the ways of his people in the mountains rubbing off upon him. Either way, he didn’t trust them as far he could throw an axe at them.

Off in a slightly denser patch of trees, he sighted Rosalin searching for something, or perhaps someone. He had heard the twig snapping earlier on, but had decided to merely disregard it as some kind of animal. But apparently it was more than just an animal. Walking over to her he asked. “What is it?” It was perhaps a redundant question, but he decided to ask anyway. Glancing up at the trees, he spotted what looked like a cat lazing around, but that was it, maybe the person or creature had ran off to tell it’s fellows?

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