Arc I - Terreille in Trouble
In the ruined town of Sharon, Shalador
They chatted softly for a while longer, Faeril oddly enough being the first to turn in for the night. Though to be fair, Gen had been anything but accommodating to the Black Widow. The Green Jeweled Warlord hated seeing his friend so weakened, especially when she got hit with the recoil from a spell she had patterned onto their last hope to combat the poison that was spreading through the Realm. The mistrust that was the seed and the watering of dark amusements from those in the Aristo caste. Tempted with what they could get away with. Denvar had followed after the Healer-Black Widow to the house they had set up for sleeping. Briefly stopping by Gennar to inform the eldest of the brothers three that Bellinar was not back from his scouting yet.
"Do you think something happened? We should have
felt something I would think." Denvar noted as the two of them walked towards the house. The darkness sending a chill across the ruined town.
"He probably went further. Hunting game." Usually Bellinar would return long enough to tell them he had spotted game he was going after. They were always keeping close and keeping an eye on each other, but Bellinar was going on longer outings alone and coming back with goods and gear they needed. Gen didn't want to question his brother, but there was something going on. Had been going on for months now. Nothing ill had come from it, but it worried the Warlord.
Denvar was not a fool, he could sense that worry in the dismissing words. "Gen-"
"We can't afford to worry about it. Bellinar is our brother, and if he's going off on his own...""Then he has a reason." Denvar supplied, relieving the worry from his brother's shoulders. "He wouldn't do anything foolish. Dangerous, of course. He is Eyrien. But nothing to risk us or Ashke." Watching Gen nod in mute agreement, Denvar held the door to the small first floor dwelling they had choosen. It was intact enough to offer some decent shelter. A decent pile of blankets from on of the many trunks and the bed was passible. Just a door down was Faeril. While they would rather be in the same room as the witch, they suspected their long time friend wanted her space for the time being. With all the excitement Faeril needed a solid sleep, and their coming and goings would only disturb her. "He probably just has some intelligence in the area and refuses to share it. Some old gran he's been smooching up to."
There was a grunt from Gen as the larger of the two gave his brother a tired look of exasperation.
"He does have a way with charming the old folks doesn't he?"The night wore on with the general shift of watchers through the night. The first up was Xandar, who witnessed little and heard even less. The odd rat scrabbling through the ruins. The odd owl swooping through the ruins before deciding a better meal could be had elsewhere, bats swarmed in and out of their dark dens high up in those buildings that still stood, their squeaks a soft counterpart to the sharp noises of foxes off in the distance. Common noises and movements. Nothing that would cause alarm. Reluctant as the Warlord Prince might be, his watch was taken over by Mikhail as the wee hours began with the moon dipping towards the horizon and there still being no hint of sun. The bats were returning for the night and the odd herd of deer was skittering through the land. Their groups were far smaller than they should be. A hint of the overhunting by those too poor to pay for the food on their table.
A shadow that did not belong, however, slipped through the ruins. Eyeing the box-thing that was called a
'Coach' the tiny creature was not at all large but was very certain what it was looking for was in the boxes that held things that were needed by people and thus he needed them too. Or rather his person needed them. Carefully looking about to make certain the coast was clear and no one was going to be watching, the small dog trotted up to one of the
storage-boxes. He was a dusty looking fellow with tan fun and grey specks splattered across him. Noticing it wasn't locked, the sneaky fellow was relieved. One less worry! Not that he was overly worried, his friend has asked him to follow the
humans-who-were-in-a-hurry from the town. It had been easy enough with the trail they made! The dusty dog was a bit miffed at the thought it was supposed to be hard!
Nosing the latch up as his friend had taught him, the small dog studied the lid with an almost perplexed look in his eyes. If he used Craft that would be noticed if the humans were looking for Craft to be used, but if he nosed it up he'd make noise. It was not a light lid, after all. Nosing his nose under the lid, he tried to heave the large
storage-box's lid up. To no avail. Taking a quick look around, he hesitated slightly. There had been several large-winged humans in the camp and his friend had told him they were very dangerous. Especially the males. Especially the Warlord Princes, but then Warlord Princes were always dangerous. Males were always dangerous. Except for him, because he was a friend and his human-friend needed him. So, with a bit of a worried whine, the small dog set about lifting the lid with Craft. A simple enough thing since he was very good at lifting things with his Craft. Pleased within himself and the fact, he hadn't been noticed as far as he could tell, the small dog hopped into the trunk and began searching through the hodge-podge of items. There were plenty of stuff for his friend to use, but what would be most useful? This would require a bit of thinking, but that was okay! Because no one would be up for some time! The small Sceltie was so very proud with himself as his tail wagged furiously. Every now and then, poking his head out to drop something outside the
storage-box that wasn't on his list of useful and was in the way. Happily vanishing a few of the human-metal-teeth he found, he was trying to decide if a delicate and tiny net would be useful on one of the human head-fur pins. He had never seen humans have nets on their head-fur pins. Growling slightly, he hopped up to toss it out, then paused as if in second thought. What if his friend needed it? But he was wasn't supposed to take too much... Taking too much was bad and caused trouble.
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