Time: Late Morning Location: Near the River Kingdom Interaction with: O'Ner@Eviledd1984, Umber@FunnyGuy, Jack@Alivefalling and Azriel@TaeXenelith paused rather reluctantly for O’Ner. He was anxiously walking around the pyre he built. Fire already burned on a torch in his hand, ignited by the firepit. “You won’t find anything. I’ve been thorough.” He said, trying to convince O’Ner to leave the home so he could reduce it to cinders. The longer they had to wait, the more something with Xenelith wanted him to not just burn the house. The whole forest should be consumed. Rotted and burned. Leaving the fertile fields for Dakka to cultivate. He suppressed it for now. Luckily both O’Ner and Xenelith’s attention was diverted by Jack’s arrival. All his comrades seemed to be on edge by his presence. Even his own pets were on guard. Xenelith was not. Though before he spoke he tossed the torch inside the house. The oil he had gathered from lamps and what not instantly ignited. Carrying the flame across the pyre and even to the walls.
Then his attention came back to Jack. Only now did Xenelith notice the corpse he was carrying. It was mangled horribly. A killer already? That was useful. So few people had a stomach for murder. Most found it to be an acquired taste and Xenelith had no time to teach. “One dead human already. Impressive.” The calm words of Xenelith soothed his beasts. Ferra, who stood over Jean with her claws extended, ready to charge and pounce, settled down onto her snack again. The wolves who bolted for the shadows and had secretly surrounded Jack slowly trot back into the clearing. Though they kept their distance from Jack. “Tell me, how many have you killed before?”
At first glance one would think Aharuhn exclusively dresses in sea-stained rags. And they are right about that. The Sea-Witch doesn’t care much for clothing. For supposed modesty’s sake he’ll wear the weathered robes. His beard and hair are, however, exquisitely braided and combed. On his gnarled fingers fingers he’ll have several silver and gold rings. They either contain strange stones that some would claim to glow at night, or odd marks and seals. Shell-like jewelry hangs from his neck but he often switches it up.
Many who have seen him without clothes often ask about the black tattoo covering his entire back. It’s an intericate thing and composed of many different styles that somehow blend into a uniform appearance. Travelled tattooists might note a few distinct styles for natives from one far flung island or another. The meaning behind the tattoo is so far unknown as Aharuhn doesn’t really talks about it.
⋆ Ancient wisdom * The Endless Ocean ⋆ Mysteries * Any strong alcohol * Women of low morality * Men of lower morality
Dislikes:
⋆ Simpletons ⋆ Laws ⋆ Land if he's on it for more than 3 days
Fears:
⋆ To drown forever ⋆ Be chained on land ⋆ Forget all he knows
Sexuality:
Bisexual
Personality:
Aharuhn can sometimes be seen as an exceptionally loud, excentric, slightly deranged man. At best he is simply bad at reading social clues, at worst he straight up doesn’t care. He enjoys the presence of others greatly. Ranging from those he deems equal down to the “curiously stupid”. Though he hates simpletons. Those who hold on to their simple lives, afraid to let go and jump into the vast ocean of things they cannot even start to understand. Aharuhn is not a selfless person. He is known to simply take what he wants, from whoever he wants. Sometimes literally to cause a problem. Never the less he understands when it is time to cause a ruckus and when to share his spoils and knowledge. He is not a good or kind person though. When it comes down to, he’ll sacrifice whatever he needs to save himself. Even his own daughter, if he had one. Or did he?
He has a violently bad temper. Often bursting out shouting over the slightest detail or the most imagined slight. He’ll curse and shout and punch whatever material thing he can find. Though as quickly as his temper flares, it calms down again. Never expect an apology though. Aharuhn is an incredibly impatient man when it comes to the acts of man. No message can be delivered fast enough. No man can run fast enough to his likingness. All canons should’ve been loaded three day ago and the deck should’ve been scrubbed three hours before you begin. Yet when they’re out of sea he will not quip about the calm winds or a bird’s message being late. He is as patient as need be with nature. Aharuhn’s reaction thoroughly depends on how much he cares about the situation. Are you encountering an island that’s not on the map? Aharuhn will be at the tip of the ship in an instant, crawling over the bow to get just inches closer before you can say “land in sight”. Yet the man’s been known to slowly drink his tea while the ship’s being shot.
Aharuhn is far from a cunning bastard. He is very smart though and guards his magical secrets closely. But when it comes to politics and maneuvering, he’s terrible. He’s even worse with words. Don’t expect him to give a rousing speech of glory. He’s just as likely to laugh about the imminent doom of all onboard. He got a great sense of pitch-black dark humor though. It is then, quite obvious that Aharuhn is absolutely off his rocks. Some would say he’s been on the sea for too long. Others say he has stared too deep in the ocean’s depth and saw something looking back. Others just say his mind got scrambled after a previous crew dragged him across the hull. His energy levels oftentimes spike when interest or inspiration hits. Though other times he moves as slow as he wants to.
Mermidia of the Halikasus Isles - Mother Nahasus Kalas - Father
Current and Past Lover(s):
Actual love? None. Lovers? Too much.
History:
Few can pinpoint where Aharuhn came from or if his claimed name name is even his real name. Never the less, Aharuhn has always been somewhat of a mystical figure in the pirate port of Parlay Cay. At the time he was believed to be a mad but powerful warlock, capable of foretelling the future, finding treasure with his mind’s eye and even summoning storms. He wasn’t respected though, as the inns were rife with gossip. But he was feared for he could make things happen no captain would want. It is not exactly known if Captain Draegar asked him to come with her or if he simply offered his services and she accepted them. Never the less one day the man stood on the Mermaid’s Fortune’s pier and boarded the ship as if he had always been part of the crew.
Sea Magic ⋆ Magic in general ⋆ Terrible at physical fights
Aharuhn's magical ability cannot be overstated. Born a witch, he grew up learning the traditional methods of casting spells. However, during his life he gathered a lot of knowledge some would deem forbidden. Joined with his constant accumilization of magical resources and innate magical ability, Aharuhn's greatest power is in scrying, illusion and control of the sea. Though his powers are not always so controlled as any captain would want it.
Time: Late Morning Location: Near the River Kingdom Interaction with: O'Ner@Eviledd1984 and Azriel@Tae
Xenelith stood amongst the other warriors of his throng. On the side of the street, the numerous Dark Elves of Dakka had gathered in the depth of the night. Halastra shone brightly. Tonight she overpowered her traitor-sister. An omen, no doubt. The Witch-Moon was watching. Xenelith looked up, at the sky. At twenty-five, he wasn’t certain if he would amount to anything important. Yet tonight he felt the eyes of his goddess upon him. In her darkness, the light of stars dimmed and the candles shrunk in fear. The faint purple light casted long an dangerous shadows across the frozen city. The procession was not silent. Xenelith could hear the soft chanting of the priestesses and the rhythmic beatings of the war drums. A slow and rumbling sound. Before them the coffin of Lord Valkaen was carried. The Dark Elf Lord had spearheaded what many considered the ascension of Dark Elves within Avalia. Cowards from beyond the island had come to kill him and they succeeded. It facilitated something nobody could’ve predicted. The streets were choked with grief and anger. Even amid the gentle chanting Xenelith could feel the seething of the people. The Dark Gift's power flowed freely tonight. They only needed someone to direct it.
Xenelith, atop a hunting Ferra shook himself away from the daydream. The day hunt felt different than the one at night. His wolves weren’t hunting, they were having fun. Chasing O’Ner was more a game for them than an actual chase. It would take a seasoned hunter from Dakka to realize that though. None of Risa’s gang probably killed a deer before tonight, so he didn’t care. Fera was a lot more focused though. Then suddenly everything changed. His wolves stopped to sniff the air, then bolted in various directions. The howling began. Now they were serious.
Moments later and the Dark Elf Hunter knew why. He jumped off Ferra in time before she pounced upon the decapitated body of Jean. With her claws she was quick to tear open the tabard and chain mail. For a split second, there was absolute carnage. Then she simply laid down and began to nibble the savaged body. Like it was a toy. From the shadows of the trees the three wolves bolted and began to chew on his hands and feet as well.
His attention was instantly consumed by the house nearby. He ignored the others. Instead, he observed the nearby house. He stepped inside. It was cozy, warm. Everything one would want from a place like this. Xenelith slowly but carefully examined everything inside. He found Risa’s dress she wore the night before. He couldn’t smell it, but the dress’ scent would guide his wolves for weeks to come. Strangely, he did not find Dionaea’s dress. Outside, behind the house, the firepit was only recently extinguished. In fact, there were still embers burning. “They’re not far.” He muttered, mostly to himself. Then he turned back towards the house. “How many more of you are out there?” He asked, almost as if he expected the house to answer his question. It wouldn’t obviously. But it told him something much more frightening: the rebels were being funded by some very wealthy people. Who else would have, what he assumed to be a summer home, in the middle of nowhere?
Suddenly the hunt for the human female and the three would-be rebels paled in significance. He had to find those behind all of this. He returned to Azriel and O’Ner.
“They were here recently.” He reported. “But something is bugging me. Look at the house. There’s food, wood for a fire and clothes. It was prepared. People knew others would come here.” He explained. “Someone is helping them. Someone with power and wealth.” The return of Risa and Dionaea’s family could shed some light on that. Still, it vexed him. How could he allow such corruption to grow unchecked? Sure he had killed local rebel fairies before but apparently he missed the bigger organization behind them. “These rebels, they aren’t rogue elements anymore.” He looked back at the house. The very sight now taunted him. It was a monument to his shame. He had failed. “I’m burning it.” He muttered before he went back inside and ransacked the house. Piling on clothes and wooden furniture to light up.
At first glance one would think Aharuhn exclusively dresses in sea-stained rags. And they are right about that. The Sea-Witch doesn’t care much for clothing. For supposed modesty’s sake he’ll wear the weathered robes. His beard and hair are, however, exquisitely braided and combed. On his gnarled fingers fingers he’ll have several silver and gold rings. They either contain strange stones that some would claim to glow at night, or odd marks and seals. Shell-like jewelry hangs from his neck but he often switches it up.
Many who have seen him without clothes often ask about the black tattoo covering his entire back. It’s an intericate thing and composed of many different styles that somehow blend into a uniform appearance. Travelled tattooists might note a few distinct styles for natives from one far flung island or another. The meaning behind the tattoo is so far unknown as Aharuhn doesn’t really talks about it.
⋆ Ancient wisdom * The Endless Ocean ⋆ Mysteries * Any strong alcohol * Women of low morality * Men of lower morality
Dislikes:
⋆ Simpletons ⋆ Laws ⋆ Land if he's on it for more than 3 days
Fears:
⋆ To drown forever ⋆ Be chained on land ⋆ Forget all he knows
Sexuality:
Bisexual
Personality:
Aharuhn can sometimes be seen as an exceptionally loud, excentric, slightly deranged man. At best he is simply bad at reading social clues, at worst he straight up doesn’t care. He enjoys the presence of others greatly. Ranging from those he deems equal down to the “curiously stupid”. Though he hates simpletons. Those who hold on to their simple lives, afraid to let go and jump into the vast ocean of things they cannot even start to understand. Aharuhn is not a selfless person. He is known to simply take what he wants, from whoever he wants. Sometimes literally to cause a problem. Never the less he understands when it is time to cause a ruckus and when to share his spoils and knowledge. He is not a good or kind person though. When it comes down to, he’ll sacrifice whatever he needs to save himself. Even his own daughter, if he had one. Or did he?
He has a violently bad temper. Often bursting out shouting over the slightest detail or the most imagined slight. He’ll curse and shout and punch whatever material thing he can find. Though as quickly as his temper flares, it calms down again. Never expect an apology though. Aharuhn is an incredibly impatient man when it comes to the acts of man. No message can be delivered fast enough. No man can run fast enough to his likingness. All canons should’ve been loaded three day ago and the deck should’ve been scrubbed three hours before you begin. Yet when they’re out of sea he will not quip about the calm winds or a bird’s message being late. He is as patient as need be with nature. Aharuhn’s reaction thoroughly depends on how much he cares about the situation. Are you encountering an island that’s not on the map? Aharuhn will be at the tip of the ship in an instant, crawling over the bow to get just inches closer before you can say “land in sight”. Yet the man’s been known to slowly drink his tea while the ship’s being shot.
Aharuhn is far from a cunning bastard. He is very smart though and guards his magical secrets closely. But when it comes to politics and maneuvering, he’s terrible. He’s even worse with words. Don’t expect him to give a rousing speech of glory. He’s just as likely to laugh about the imminent doom of all onboard. He got a great sense of pitch-black dark humor though. It is then, quite obvious that Aharuhn is absolutely off his rocks. Some would say he’s been on the sea for too long. Others say he has stared too deep in the ocean’s depth and saw something looking back. Others just say his mind got scrambled after a previous crew dragged him across the hull. His energy levels oftentimes spike when interest or inspiration hits. Though other times he moves as slow as he wants to.
Mermidia of the Halikasus Isles - Mother Nahasus Kalas - Father
Current and Past Lover(s):
Actual love? None. Lovers? Too much.
History:
Few can pinpoint where Aharuhn came from or if his claimed name name is even his real name. Never the less, Aharuhn has always been somewhat of a mystical figure in the pirate port of Parlay Cay. At the time he was believed to be a mad but powerful warlock, capable of foretelling the future, finding treasure with his mind’s eye and even summoning storms. He wasn’t respected though, as the inns were rife with gossip. But he was feared for he could make things happen no captain would want. It is not exactly known if Captain Draegar asked him to come with her or if he simply offered his services and she accepted them. Never the less one day the man stood on the Mermaid’s Fortune’s pier and boarded the ship as if he had always been part of the crew.
Sea Magic ⋆ Magic in general ⋆ Terrible at physical fights
Aharuhn's magical ability cannot be overstated. Born a witch, he grew up learning the traditional methods of casting spells. However, during his life he gathered a lot of knowledge some would deem forbidden. Joined with his constant accumilization of magical resources and innate magical ability, Aharuhn's greatest power is in scrying, illusion and control of the sea. Though his powers are not always so controlled as any captain would want it.
Time: Dawn Location: River Fairy Kingdom - Dark Elf camp Interaction with: O'Ner@Eviledd1984, Azriel@Tae and Umber@FunnyGuy Xenelith did not know how the demon knew the group didn’t trust each other. His kin’s varying power was the subject of much debate amongst scholars and philosophers. Never the less he made a fair point: why trust a sudden new addition to the group. Even if the infiltrator was well disguised, why would they trust them? Umber’s suggestion to turn him human was a good start though. Make him appear to be hunted by Azriel and Xenelith was even better. His mind pulled him back to last midnight at the clearing. In his thoughts, he observed every member of the rebel band as deeply as he could. He thought about their actions and their words. Risa, the healer. Howling, anywhere, meant trouble. Yet she was healing the human with Dionaea at her side. The Fox chastised the girls yet came to their rescue. The moth fairy remained hidden longer, the fight had already begun when he introduced himself. More importantly, he saved the woman and vanished.
“A woman.” He said amid the meeting, out loud. “Turn into a woman.” He said again, now more specified towards O’Ner. “Risa was healing a human even though she heard the howls. She was in danger yet pushed herself to mend the armored man. The moth fairy saved the woman and only a woman. Before that he just waited in the trees, even as my wolves and I were fighting. But when the woman appeared, a damsel in distress, he swooped down and saved her in a heartbeat.” He once again turned to address O’Ner specifically. “General, I would advise you to turn into a woman. A wounded one, specifically. It’s the juiciest lure for the whole group. An unarmed, injured woman.” He then turned towards Azriel. “We need to see where they went. My Lady, you told us you saw the moth fairy from a distance. Could you show us on the map where they were heading for?”
Time: Dawn Location: River Fairy Kingdom - Dark Elf camp Interaction with: O'Ner@Eviledd1984, Azriel@Tae and Umber@FunnyGuy Xenelith took the charm offered by the angel of death and bowed in acknowledgement. “I will send a message by solar box as soon as I can.” He said to Lady Azriel about the command to send out all the information he had about the humans. Which was, sadly, not much. “Yes, there was a moth fairy taking a woman with him. It’s good to know that they are still in the vicinity.” He answered Umber. Though he had to stop his subconsciousness from clutching the pendant he already wore. The moth fairy could lead him to the fox. Or at least his name. Scores were to be settles.
Then the skeleton spoke. “No scouts or spies are out. There was not enough time to infiltrate the rebels. Besides, even between all of us we definitely lack anyone who could convincingly become part of the resistance.” He said as he motioned to himself, the raven-winged demi-human, the demon, and the skeleton. It was times like these that he would’ve liked a defector though. A fairy could feed them an endless amount of information. “As for scouts, there is no need. My wolves tasted their blood. They’ve been itching for it the entire dawn. When I give them the signal, they will find our prey soon enough.” He said, quite proudly of his dogs. Though this time he wouldn’t risk them in a battle. “The only troops I have out right now are retrieving the families of two of the rebels: Dionaea Sycamore and Risa Millina. Worst case scenario we can use them as bait.” Leandron could not return fast enough.
They arrived in the tent in time for Azriel to inquire about the sketches. “They are on my desk. Look them over. I’ve written the known names upon the paper. That is Risa and that is Dionaea.” He said, pointing towards both portraits. “Pink seems to be their dominant color. In all honesty I do not believe that they full understand what they've done. They certaintly don't understand the consequences. The armored human is a real threat and the moth fairy, well so far he has proven to be little more than an annoyance. The fox...should die last.” He added, as the sketches were in black and white. “And I agree, my Lady. Time is of the essence.” He let out a sharp whistle and instantly Ferra and the three wolves arrived in front of the tent. “Give the signal and the hunt begins. My wolves will lead us to the enemy.”
Time: Dawn Location: River Fairy Kingdom - Dark Elf camp Interaction with: O'Ner@Eviledd1984, Azriel@Tae and Umber@FunnyGuy Xenelith was hunched over a make-shift desk, observing the map of the River Kingdom. Special carved pieces denoted the presence of rebels, his own Dark Elf troops and various other possible forces. On the side rested a whole bucket of zombies. To be used to mark the coming hordes’ flow. Various reports laid around on the map. Rebel activity, resources, scout reports. There weren’t many of them but in the coming forty hours it’d grow to a mountain. From here he would lead the war and rule through the right of conquest. Such was the Dark Elf way. Behind him stood a more complex device of pulleys, gears, chains and hourglasses. One hourglass was marked with a particular piece and was the only one running. Through Xenelith knew Leandron wouldn’t be back in two hours.
He didn’t expect any important news to arrive before then. But it did in the form of a hurried Dark Elf and an unexpected Amoras, bearing Aklenroth’s crest. Xenelith sped out of his tent. Ferra and his other three wolves were quick to follow behind him. He instantly recognized Umber and Azriel. Them separated would’ve made it guesswork, but there were only so many dark angels and demons working together. The undead he did not recognize. “Gentlemen, my lady.” He greeted in the traditional Dark Elf fashion: slamming his fist against his chest. “I'm Commander Xenelith. I did not expect any of you, though your presence is greatly appreciated.” He stood at ease again. As far as he knew, none of them outranked him. And if they did, it couldn’t be by much. He bid them to walk with him towards the tent with the map. “I’ve found some rebels here last night. There were three fairies and a demi-human fox. There were also two humans with them. A terra- and pyromancer. I’ve got sketches in my tent.” Then he stopped talking, allowing the others to talk about their own mission.
The Millinas were gone. Leandron stood within the ransacked house. It was big, which told him they had money. Those who had money often had more than home. Such was the disgusting opulence these fairies lived in. “Some food is gone as well.” One of the soldiers reported. The others were searching around but they probably wouldn’t find anything. Leandron marched through the house. All around him cabinets were thrown to the ground to crack them open. From the kitchen, all ceramics were thrown onto the ground. Searching for something. Anything. Jewels were greedily taken by those who found it. This was their first looting and the shine of gold promised at least a full stomach for a few more weeks. In the living room, he found a myriad of paintings. One of those who assumingly lived there. When he compared them with the drawing, he could see it was Risa and probably her parents and her brother. Now that was interesting. What was more interesting were the elder figures in another painting. Unlike the sweet couple with their children, these two were dressed as royals. “Well what do you know. She’s from the old king's blood.” He said as he pulled down the painting to observe it closer. “What a time it must’ve been, to take away their power.” Then, with pure disgust, he threw the frame into the ground. It shattered, the broken wood tore the painting open. He then took the painting of the family and broke the frame open as well, though this time a little more careful so he could take it with him. Knowing how your enemy looks was half the battle. More Dark Elves rummaged through the bedroom, retrieving expensive dresses and coats. When the whole place was pillaged of any and all valuables, Leandron put a torch to it. No-one would live there anymore.
The smoke plume could be still be seen from atop the hilltop on which Leandron stood. Looking down towards the small but vibrant community down in a glade below. It disgusted the dark elf how content they were all were. Probably had enough to eat and drink. He grasped the wet earth below him. So fertile. So full of life. If the forest would be burned down it could feed all of Dakka and more. His people would never suffer hunger on that barren, cold island again. If only Aklenroth would allow it. One thing was a fact though, the fairies didn’t deserve such bounty. They hadn’t bled for it. They hadn’t killed for it. “Prepare for runners. Break bones if you have to.” He commanded as he mounted up again. Two dark elves nodded.
Moments later thunderous hooves came barging down the cobblestone path towards the little tree-named village. People that weren’t outside yet to watch the blackened smoke rise in the sky now came to see what all the noise brought. When the Dark Elven steeds were in view, Leandron could suddenly feel the tension. They were upon the little place within seconds. They dismounted. This was probably the most exciting time for the village in years.
Leandron knocked on the door and Lotus opened up. The Dark Elf asked: “Sycamore?”
“Yes, may I help you sir?” The polite fairy asked.
Leandron didn’t answer. Instead he gave a quick nod towards a bunch of Dark Elves behind him. Who all began to walk passed Lotus and barge in.
Lotus, confused, didn’t move until the fourth Dark Elf tried to pass him. He laid a hand on the man’s arm. “I’m sorry sirs but what are you exactly-“
He couldn’t finish the sentence. Leandron had knocked the air out of his lungs. Seconds later he could feel the cold grasp of iron. Someone inside screamed. Leandron shouted: “Silence!” People were huddling up. Lotus began to feel weak. As if he was being drained. “In name of the king of you are all under arrest for high treason.” Leandron said and with those words, all hell broke loose.
Women began to scream and try to get out. Outside Dark Elves were waiting at the windows to take them down. Many kicked and screamed as their skin touched the cold iron. Some of the men drew whatever weapons they could.
Leandron could feel control slipping a she counted the people inside. So many. Three of the men were occupying another three Dark Elves. He could see his own kin straining against their orders. “Kill if you must!” He shouted out and his men took instant heed. No longer constraint by their opponents need for survival, they went for the killing blow. A greatsword ripped open the abdomens of one fairy. Inside the house the screaming changed. From frantic defiance to utter horror. Blood splattered on some of the fairies. One of Dionaea’s brothers fell dead on the floor. Another was pushed up against the wall and another Dark Elf pushed his spear through the man. It kept him standing up against the wall as blood flowed from the wound.
Outside several other Dark Elves were going door to door. Those foolish enough to answer as Sycamore were taken where they stood. Others suspiciously denied the name and tried to force the door closed. An axe was the answer. Doors were reduced to splinters. Women and men were dragged through the streets by their hair, clasped into chains and thrown amongst the others. Some fairies managed to get outside, ran and then tried to fly away. When suddenly rope came from below them, tangled their legs yanked them down. Many fell down into the dirt, some into the hard cobblestone below. Once down Dark Elves jumped them. One, to make sure his victim wouldn't fly away again, cut a wing in half. The once calm village descended into pandemonium as children, mothers, and men ran around. Trying to protect each other or themselves. Some died bravely. When all was said and done, Leandron had elven people in chains.
“Some got away.” One soldier said behind him. His rope had torn down a fairy particularly hard. She clutched her shoulder in pain. Leandron just nodded. With so many prisoners to take, some were bound to get away. Besides, they had enough. Then another soldier approached him, clutching his ribs. “Sorry sir. Bastard got me. Killed him though.” Leandron could see the blood wetting the tunic. “You’ll bleed to death.” He noted coldly. Death was a part of reality. Inevitable, really, if you lived in Dakka. The soldier smiled weakly. But then Leandron had an idea. He looked over at the sobbing group of chained fairies. All broken and weakened by the iron. He found the youngest and pulled her away from the group. Much to the protest of her mother and father. They were quickly kicked aside. He dragged her up to his wounded soldier and pushed her against him. Blood smudged her face. “Heal him now.” He ordered.
Instead, she raised her chained wrists. “Please. I don’t feel so good. Please, the iron.” She pleaded with him, weakly.
Leandron slapped her. She felt to the ground. The Dark Elf pulled her back up with her hair. “Heal. Him.” He repeated. “Or I will cut out those pretty eyes of yours."
She swallowed meekly and put her hands on the wound. Pale golden light fell upon the wound and the Dark Elf could suddenly feel his own body mending itself. It was a strange feeling. To know yourself to be dead to suddenly being alive for sure.
“Make sure she finishes the job.” Leandron said to the wounded soldier, as he passed them to go towards the Sycamore’s house. The place was not as rich as the Millinas their home. Still, there was wealthy to be found and the Dark Elves most certainly found it. Like the previous mansion it the place was ransacked. None cared much about the corpses or the blood. When anything of value was taken the house in ruins. Leandron, hoping to find some more clues about those they were searching found nothing. Annoyed that he couldn't return with more, he mounted up again. The Dark Elves headed back. Behind their steeds, they dragged the chained prisoners.
Far away from the Chaos flew Camellia. Trying to find her youngest daughter.
Time: Midnight to Dawn Location: Near the River Kingdom Interaction with: Leandron of the Bleakwood Watchers Xenelith collapsed against the tree. His remaining wolves had licked their wounds clean. Now nature would have to run its course and add to the myriad scars they already had. Still, Xenelith could imagine their dreams would be restless. One of their littermates was missing. Ferra fared worse. He had to stitch her wounds. Not an easy task with an animal that didn’t understand what was happening. She fought the urge to bite his hand off every time he went with the needle through her. Never the less she allowed him to finish. After he gave her a mixture of herbs to fight off the infection. After which she fell asleep. Now, exhausted he sat against the tree. Tired but he knew his duty was not yet done for the night.
From the saddlebags, he pulled out a pack of paper rolls and a charcoal pen. First, he drew the fox-like creature, or what he could remember from him. His fading memory began to take shape. The furry ears and humanoid form. He was nearing the end of the drawing when suddenly he had to cough. Blood splattered the paper. The Dark Elf pondered, as he ran his fingers across the blood pressing it into the paper if this was some omen from the magic he possessed. He had cursed the fox-thing with all his authority. As long as he would live, none of them were safe. Did his magic sense this and add to it? Or was this the price for something else. He clutched the black crystal cluster hanging from some twine around his neck. Inside he could sense the soul of his wolf. Cold, scared, confused. “Worry not, little one. I’ll make you whole again.” He doubted the animal could hear him. Perhaps he didn’t say it to sooth it in the first place.
It didn’t matter. He rolled up the parchment and got to work on the other portraits. The two brattish fairies were the easiest to draw. His mind had been fixated on them in the first place. Sweet and fragile. Like all of their kind. Unlike the others, they did not look like they had any real fight in them. Their clothes too gave him a sense of unbelonging. They were out of place at best. Dresses like that were no things to wear in a battle. He’d find their trail easy enough. The low grumble of a wolf sleeping next to him pulled him out of his seething trance. He petted the poor thing, hoping it would soothe his dreams. “Dream little one. You’ll get your brother back soon.” He softly said, as he rolled the two parchments up and begun working on the cowardly fairy and his human price. He’d have his head soon enough and the woman? She would be drowned as to prevent her fire from saving her. Finally was the armored warrior. Who quickly turned out to be a screaming fool. If you made that much noise that frequent, no doubt he could be found sooner rather than later.
In the end, he did not doubt his prey would be easy to found. That became the least of his worries. Quite uncomfortably he had to admit though that he was outnumbered. Too outnumbered. One of the humans knew at least somewhat how to fight. The fairy would be an annoyance too and the fox, well he had killed a wolf. No small feat really. He needed more and he would get them. As he sat on the edge of the forest and a field. In a few hours an Amoras would land here, giving him what he needed. For now, what he needed was sleep.
Hours later he was awakened by rotors.
~
“Lord Xenelith.” The Dark Elf slammed his fist against his chest in greeting as he stood at attention. Behind him, Dark Elves were unloading their supplies and steeds from the Amoras. “Leandron of the Bleakwood Watchers sir. We did not expect you here.” He said as an introduction.
“At ease. Leandron. I’m assuming you’re in charge of these men?” Xenelith asked. His wolves staying behind, at guard. Leandron nodded. “Good. What’s your mission?”
“Someone told us about some rebels in these forests, willing and able to summon humans. We’ve been send out as a vanguard to locate and capture the humans that might have arrived. We’re also charged with rooting out any rebels in the area.” The Dark Elf spoke quite formally but like with all Dark Elves Xenelith could see the glimmer of ambition in his eyes. He was not happy with having a commander here that would take all the credits.
He raised an eyebrow at the order to capture the humans. That was new information. “Yes, I’ve found them last night. I can confirm two humans in the surroundings. One pyromancer and another terramancer.” Leandron stiffened. Xenelith knew what was going through his mind: he was already late. “I’ve made sketches of the suspects.” He added, handing out the scrolls of paper on which were Kyran’s fox form, Risa, Dionaea, the armored human and the pyromancer. The one with Elthrael he kept for himself a little longer.
“Sir, I think these two fairies fit the names: Risa and Dionaea, wouldn’t you say so?” Leandron said as he held up their sketches.
Xenelith agreed. Female and those were the first he found. Helping a human. The third fairy was male and only came in later. “Yes. Good work. Gather where I am in ten minutes. I’ll give out the orders.”
Ten minutes later and several dark elves were squatting around Xenelith holding a stick over a map. “You will go to the fairy village here. Its where the two confirmed rebels come from. I want the parents of these fools in chains before dusk.” He said as he touched the stick on a village about an hour out.
One Watcher piped up: “What about the village sir?” There was an anxiousness in it. To Xenelith they were mere children. This was probably their first campaign. They were capable no doubt, but inexperienced. So he knew what they meant.
“We’re not razing villages to the ground. This is our lord’s kingdom still.” Xenelith said. “Is that understood?” Many of the Watchers nodded. Some didn’t. With such fledglings, it was sometimes hard to tell if they’d be stupid enough to disobey him. “Good. Remember, family and friends are your focus.” Though he would have to throw them a bone. “Make some theatrics when you take them. Make noise and make sure they shout and scream. You can do whatever you want. As long as they’re alive when they get here.” This brightened up the mood significantly. Some Watchers opened their mouth. Xenelith locked eyes with one. “Everything. Is. Allowed.” He added, drilling the message home. The questioning Watchers nodded and got up. Many were mounting their horses as fast as they could. Half an hour later thunderous hooves of a dozen Dark Elf riders traveled through the dirt road of the forest, heading towards Risa and Dionaea’s village.
The 11 unnamed Dark Elves can be interacted with, killed or harmed. I'd prefer it that Leandron stays alive but you can hurt him if you want to.
DracoLunaris
Lord Zee
sly13