[b][i]Nine Years Ago[/i][/b]
[h3]Myths Among the Wild Men[/h3]
[i][b]By Sakaala, quoted from "Myths Among the Wild Men", Chapter IV "Rangers"[/b]
"He came to me in these hours of death, not as a prophet, not as a madman, but a speaker of a dying world. This world in which we all hold so dear, he more than many cherished it, but more deeply so its rawest of aspects; he drank from the same cup that brought up my blood unfathom time ago - the same that poured itself into the life of all things truly free, truly pure. Upon me he bestowed a returned breath of life to my breast. Another broader purpose, one beyond this lonesome self pursuit which brought little but distraction. I, as he and others alike, were sworn to something greater; something I had forgotten in my lingering darkness. My hours of cold."

"He reminded me, in these twilight moments of lucidity, that none of our tasks are done. They are part of the cycle eternal, that even with his passing, just as Hers many years ago, that the hunt must continue. Simply because we are reclaimed, because we are... undone, we must still persevere in our preservation of what we were in life. I held him as he shook, just as I had others; unable to return life to that which was truly gone. But his words, just as before, did not leave me; urging this journey on."

"I contemplated fate, not faith - the latter not in question."

"I am ranger in the tongues of men and The Huntress in the words of many more unspoken. I am a sworn enemy of evil and the very weapon of an entire world."[/i]

[hr]

[i][b]Present Time[/b][/i]

It was not that the one remaining eye's sight, in all its golden glory, had betrayed its master, but that it pried ink from parchment with such sheer force that it seemed uncertain anymore of the message's true, underlying purpose. It was as though it had been intended for another, but the explicit personal summons, in the way of mere man so bold as to confront a monster suggested otherwise; from the time the approach began it was clear he was almost compelled to do such a thing, mayhap in part against his will. A troubling truth whatever it was, but it begged only further as to why in any such case - what possible effect would be gained through such a trap, if it were one? If they had such means to make a demand upon her of any, and wished to do her harm, why not simply do so?

Even in her growing age she was no easy thing to find, certainly not now.

It was not that she was elusive by intent so much as by virtue. The world was vast, oft ferocious and unforgiving, yet one messenger found his way among the most obscure paths to her. Had her temper not been so steady, such an unwelcome surprise would have been more swiftly met at blade's end, but fate seemed to intervene once more. It was not that she would have made threat on his life, so much as having been far, far less willing to hear out any reason for being so hunted and discovered.

Returning to the words, she had indeed turned the tables of the game being played, at least as much as she could. Her arrival, the initial at least, was more observation than anything, but rewarding all the same. She dared not approach the way she was instructed - a path throughout a town to a place in which sat largely by itself upon a secluded, cleared way not much further beyond. Its construction spoke of older wealth, older power... mortal works, being dense stone and wood. Something built by human hands, or at least guided by them. This was no surprise, at least that wealth and power had found her, for one reason or another, but what did intrigue the mind and the eyes-within-the-night was that there was no familiarity at all to what she beheld.

Low as she knelt, both bright and deadened eye taking in what she could see from her concealment and cover, her breath deepened in contemplation.

[i]"I take no joy in doing what has been asked."[/i] She spoke, grasping the rolled leather legging of her left thigh, pushing herself to standing, [i]"But either they will be a worthy host..."[/i]

[i]"... or all of them have had the misfortune of being set to kill me."[/i] The voice continued, knowing that her incursion into town, even its outskirts on a journey to this manor, came with implications. Namely that the town was unwittingly to be used to either weaken or murder her.

Mortals were not fond of the ones touched by the world's blood, even less fond of those drawn up from it. In times prior she journeyed with a cadre of armed men, wielding bow, blade and mystic ill omen or power; mercenaries, often the most cunning or intelligent to rather recruit the "monster" to their ranks than be so fool as to attempt to kill it. Then it humored her wants, to have this bond among sanctioned marauders, but now it would have been a swift way to find herself from one side to this unusual summons... no less with able hands in tow should the strange parchment truly be an elaborate effort to eliminate her.

Drawing up the worn cloak and hood, or really what remained of it, she confined herself to approach by darkness to darkness. Time consuming as it was, she avoided the few who remained out on a eve such as this; at most all they saw was a strange hooded silhouette in the darkness that departed as quickly as it left. The hustle of this effort skirted the town and set her upon the path to approach this strange, regal place, which in no time she neared its cast open gates.

Someone was expected, this much she knew. One did not leave open their gates, devoid of guardsmen, if they did not expect specific company - mage or otherwise alike. Yet this did little to comfort the aging beast, whose great feet left marks upon the damp earth here where it could not be disturbed by natural disguises and illusions.

Out of her element, but far from helpless, she wondered what more was in store for her...