Hunting the Gurtha Maten --The Hunt--

Veleanith watched as Njord left, keeping her commentary to herself, several thoughts streaming across her mind. She couldn’t help but to feel a sort of serenity at the fact that she would be traveling with others instead of wandering the woods by her lonesome. ‘All that has done is managed me encounters of demons better kept to my past and ventures better avoided,’ Popping up to her feet, she jumped in place for a second before smiling to Istalindir, holding out a hand. “Well, we might as well make haste. I wish to get this over with soon…”

He looked to her hand suspiciously, giving the same look into her eyes. Finally shrugging away his misgivings, Istalindir took her hand, letting Vele pull him up. Smirking, she tilted her head. “Come now, I am not that bad. Although, I am the type of woman your mother probably told you to stay far…far away from,” Chuckling lightly, she started to take out the fire. “But that is an entirely different affair, no? I am going to head for my horse. Are you coming to retrieve yours?”

Istalindir sighed. “I’m afraid not. I had to make a hasty leave from Mardonin what with some trouble that had been stirred up from some of my former companions. I left most of my possessions there, save for my weaponry and other essential items.”

Slapping her palm to her forehead, Veleanith closed her eyes. “And I take it you left your steed there as well?” She looked to his expression, frustration building up, the answer obvious. Removing her hand, she tightened her cloak around her. “Well, I guess you will either have to do one of three things. Ride with Njord, ride behind me, or run. Run fast.”

Not waiting for his answer, she opened the door of the cabin, shouting flute quickly. The willow stopped, allowing her to leave with Istalindir trailing behind once he had managed to get his belongings. They walked for a little more than a half an hour, finally coming along Midi, prancing about in the field. Vele called Midi to her, rubbing her neck affectionately. “Alright Midi, let me introduce you to someone who will be riding with us until we find him a horse. Midi, this is…” She made a face turning back to Istalindir. “What is your name, young elf?”

“Istalindir of-”

Veleanith made a hand signal, shaking her head. “Not to be rude, but I require no more than your name for the moment, I care not to remember titles,” She turned back to Midi. “Midi, this is Istalindir, Istalindir, this is Midiayla, Midi for short.”

Midi snorted in his direction, unsure of the new stranger that was to ride her. Veleanith stroked her neck, whispering quietly for her to trust him for the time being. She mounted Midi, motioning Istalindir on once she had gotten comfortable. Getting on after her, he sat quietly whereas Veleanith frowned. “What are you waiting for? Place your hands around my waist already.”

Doing as she commanded, he grumbled. “Wasn’t sure how you would react if a stranger you barely knew did that.”

Pushing Midi forward, Veleanith smirked. “Spare me. You along with Njord helped to save my life, I consider myself in debt,” She picked up her pace, riding through the forest in a high-speed. “I consider you two possible comrades, it will all depend on what happens next before I really know what to think of you both. Until then,” Finally escaping the thick underbrush of the forest, she pushed on towards the brook. “Enjoy the ride and do not be too hesitant.”

Slowing down her pace once inches from the brook, she noted Njord deep in the cool waters of the brook. Coming to a stop, she jumped from her horse, walking over to him with a raised eyebrow. Kneeling down, she pulled his head up from the back of his hair, startling him slightly with her smile. “Drowning yourself before our venture even started?” Letting go of the firm grip on the back of his head, she shook the water from her hand. “Excuse me if I happened to disturb you, but isn’t it about time we left?”

Something occured to Vistalzidar out of nowhere and his mood suddenly darkened at the Lycan's words. His hand clenched on his shadow blade.
"There is one particular Vampire," Vistalzidar said, dangerously low, as he pictured the strange vampire woman he had met on the roof tops of Astradom and on the grounds of the Vice Regents manor in Mardonin.
"There is one Vampire," he repeated, "Who, for some strange reason that I cannot yet fathom, means a great deal to me. Should you...or any of your kind, harm her..." his silver eyes flashed, "You will find my blade through your heart in an instant."
A comforting hand landed on his shoulder and he snapped his gaze around to stare into the eyes of Melcanin. The fist clenched on his sword hilt relaxed and he nodded ever so slightly, regaining his control.
"I am sorry," he said to Ax. "Though what I said stands."

Melcanin looked to Kortana who backed down, she walked slowly, almost mesmerisingly toward Ax, "Though my kin and comrade do not show it, your alliance meens a great deal. I have trusted my life to your kind in a past almost long forgotten, so I know of your loyalty and welcome you." She glanced back at Kortana who mounted her huge steed and rode back into the ranks, she smiled a little, bowing her head and walking toward Vistalzidar, "If I can trust him, I would be surprised if you did not end in doing the same." She commented slowly and quietly.

He shook his head, drops of water flying from his long hair. He thought back to the dream and satyed quiet a few seconds, before he realized that she had spoken to him. Njord glanced at her and nodded, his dream still plaguing his mind. He untied Tyr, and mounted his stallion again. Sighing, he pushed the dream to the back of his head, reserving it for later.

"Yes, the road is a bit farther down the stream, and from there we shall continue south."

He kicked his horse into motion, keeping him at a walk. He dropped the rains, not that he really needed them, since he and Tyr were very intune with each others thoughts. Njord unscrewed his spearhead, and slipped the shaft through two small loops in Tyr's saddle. He took out strange hard black rock and began to sharpen the point. He looked at the two on the horse beside him. They reached the road and Njord whispered a small word to Tyr, making the horse turn without a movement.

"So where do you hail from, Vele? The north, the Veldrin ranges? Fingal even?"

He kept his eyes on the blade as he said this, all the while shapening. He liked to shapen his blades, it was a good way to pass the time, and a worthwhile way as well. He supposed he had gotten the habit from his father, who had always been sharpening his weapons when he was bored. So Njord, as soon as he recieved his first dagger as a gift, had begun to sit down next to his father and sharpen his blade as well. His father had taught him the finest rocks to use to sharpen weapons with and make make-shift weapons with. He learned how to string bows, sharpen weapons in a flash, and make weapons using his surroundings. Then one day his father came home from the hunt, and gave Njord a present. Njord unwrapped it, and found it to be a rock, a black one, opaque but with a certain sheen, just like his father's. His father then told him was it was.

"Thats a diamond, son, in its roughest form."

Njord had been confused by this, because he knew what pure diamonds looked like, the village elders wore them on chains around their necks. But he did not question his father's comment, and accept it as fact, as every boy would have done. That was the same rock Njord used for sharpening now, and as he looked at it, he noticed it had hardly worn at all. He smiled, thinking back on all the memories of he and his father.

Ax nodded to Vistaldzer. He understood him, however nothing would stop him from protecting his own race. "There are not many lycans, fifty not more, I only attack those Vampires who threaten any of the members of my race, so I shall not harm this Vampire which means alot to you..." said Ax to Vistaldzer trustfully. Ax then looked at the women who came up to him. "Though my kin and comrade do not show it, your alliance meens a great deal. I have trusted my life to your kind in a past almost long forgotten, so I know of your loyalty and welcome you." the women said. Ax nodded, for he was glad there was someone who understood him... Understood his alliance and race!

Trotting down the worn dirt path, her unusually black hood over her head to hide the light from day, Veleanith felt herself frown, a buzz all around her, the whispers of trees and the forests enhanced. It was odd for her to be so connected with the world at such a constant rate and while it wasn’t a complete disturbance, she was starting to wonder why it was happening, at the same time trying to decipher the whispers into normal speech.

So concentrated was she on figuring out the gossip of the forests, she just barely managed to catch Njord’s question. “So where do you hail from, Vele? The north, the Veldrin ranges? Fingal even?”

Looking up to Njord, she found that he was busy sharpening his blade, his horse in no need for guidance. She waited until they had reached beneath the canopy of a shadowed forest, a half smile crossing her face as she threw off her hood, breathing in deeply. Smiling with a trace of sadness, she sighed. “I hail from everywhere and nowhere,” Shrugging, she looked up into the dark green above. “I do not mean to be cryptic with my answer, but I have been wandering for so much of my life, I am not even sure of where I once called my home. I fear only my brother could give a proper answer but all I can remember was it was an underground sect around the west. My father held a certain fame for…”

Glancing to Istalindir then to Njord, she made a face. Pulling on Midi’s reigns slightly, she continued. “…his profession. He was one of the best, ruthless, efficient, cunning…Borealis Eveolinist, an assassin of infamous prominence. And now I stand as his last remaining heir…heiress in this case…what an interesting life of mine…” her voice became light, she leaning her head far back to try and get a peak of the weather. She stopped soon, remembering that Istalindir was riding behind her. “My apologies for my brief ramble. You merely asked where I was from, not of my life story…”

Istalindir grumbled behind her. “And here I could not even give a proper title and you share nearly your life.”

“Hey,” Veleanith pouted, narrowing her eyes as she kept her gaze ahead. “Remember, you either settle with Njord or run, I do not need to have Midi carry you,” She smirked as she started to him grumble but became interested as a brief glitter caught her eye from Njord. She raised an eyebrow, a certain glow coming to her eyes at the sight. It was a diamond, a black diamond. “Beautiful yet tough. How completely lovely, a diamond in the rough, its inner beauty hidden by a cloak of darkness. Although, who said it was not beautiful to begin with.”

A guilty smile across her face, she brushed through a twist in her hair absentmindedly. “I tend to think out loud at times. Sorry for that…” Veleanith lost her focus, the whispering intensifying as the words finally all came together. Furrowing her brow, she started to think. An enlightened expression suddenly could be seen in her eyes as she looked into her cloak, going through countless pockets, irritation starting to be seen in her eyes.

Clutching onto the object she had feverishly been in search of, she pulled from her cloak a smooth stemmed rose, the petals a rich olive green, the veins within the plant looking to almost be glowing, miniscule roots at the very bottom of the stem swaying lightly with each blow of the wind. It had been the rose, the prototype, it had enhanced the very air around her, attracted the voice of the world like a magnet. She looked to it in marvel. ‘This truly is no prototype, he actually managed to make a new breed of flower,’ Stroking the stem, she frowned. ‘But it does not seem to hold any offensive power whatsoever, purely defense and nothing more.’

The wind picked up, the whispers growing to a crescendo, a shiver going through Veleanith. “Istal, you hear that?”

“What did you call me?” Istalindir started to go on, but shook his head, figuring she might throw him off of her horse. “As a matter of fact, yes, I’ve been hearing something for these past few hours…”

Veleanith nodded. “Aye, so insanity has not overtaken me,” Turning her head to the right, she narrowed her eyes. “Messages from near west, something afoot, the trampling of large numbers going by, increasing day by day…what do you think it all means?”

Another wind blew, Vele tightening her cloak over her shoulders as Istalindir looked up into the breeze. “Whispers of ideas, talks of war, a threat in the air,” Shrugging, he looked forward. “It’s all I could get, all that stood out. It’s as if something is going on in that direction.”

Snapping her fingers, Vele tried to think of what exactly lay on those borders, the tip of the name across her tongue. Pointing a finger in Njord’s direction, her eyes lit up. “The…the…The Veldrin Ranges, correct?” Njord, who had been busy sharpening his blade, looked up to her confused. She repeated herself, him nodding and getting back to work. The smile across her face slowly started to turn serious leading into her eyes being narrowed in full comprehension. The territory around that area was mainly mountainous, she knew that much from personal experience as she had visited a little more than twice. But it was the occupants of the area that was starting to stir up images in her mind. They were Drow.

Almost directly after thinking the word, images from town to town haunted her, the silver eyed, silver haired Drow coming into mind. Wondering if he had managed to get himself caught up in whatever was going on, her mind eased into worry. Leaning down over Midi, she turned her face away from Njord, putting on her hood as she looked to the hand that had once stroked his cheek, melancholy taking over her optimistic demeanor. “Stranger…”

[A threat in the air...what an irony]

Njord glanced at them and made no comment on her life story, and then looked back to his rock. He tossed it up, caught it, then looked up Vele, nodding at her comment on his black diamond. He quickly set back to work, giving his spear a paper-thin edge and point. He then quickly stowed his rock and the spearhead, thinking it unecessary to carry his spear at that exact moment.

He glanced at the other two, as they read their elements. Threat from the west? The Drow. But where was the threat directed? Njord quickly looked about, and spotted two chattering squirrels. He eaves-dropped on their conversation, and heard small bit of their conversation, same things as Vele and Istalindir had said, mostly saying about the threat of the west, impending war, darkness descending on the land. But he heard something new.

"A great army moving on the northern fortress?"

Njord immeadiatly thought of his homeland. The great Celtica fortress, Mjaron, would not easily fall though, its garrison was over 5,000 Celtica men, and those were just the professional soldiers. If the city was sieged, Njord knew the other 10,000 plus men would come to the cities walls, and the armoury would have spears enough for each man. That, and the army doing the sieging would eventually be surrounded by other Celtica that lived in the countryside. It would take a force of more than 50,000 to take the city first off, beacause of its many palisade walls, trenches, and spiked pits. And if you reached the cities mighty walls, which stood at 40 feet, you must still deal which the arrows that rained down upon your head. There was only one spot to aproach the fortress and not have to deal with all these problems, was up the ramp and through the gate. The ramp is wide enough to fit 2 carts going side by side, or about 5 men, and 200+ feet long. And at the top of that ramp, there is nodoubt to be a rag-nar son, or destroy them. The rag-nar son is a large log from which hundereds of spearpoints stick out from. This is what the Mjaron garrison makes in their spare time. They would no doubt have hundreds, since the city had not been attacked for nearly one hundred years. There was also a small trench and the end of the ramp, rather a series of them. Each was about 1 foot deep, and had a very gradual slip down. They were made for stopping and holding the rag-nar sons in place, after they had made their killer run.

And then, if you make it past all this, you must deal with the gatehouse. The gate house is 80 feet tall, and a small castle in itself. Again, the passage is five men wide. There are four polii(pronounced POLE-e-i, large metal gates), and down set of large wooden doors, that only the strongest of Celtica men can move, and it still takes ten to each door. Along that passage are arrowslits, on alternating sides, every 2 feet. And after the first two polii, there is no longer any roof, so that archers may rain down arrows, rocks, anything throwable, destroying anything and everything below them. Oh, and the walls were ten feet thick.

And the fortress was perched upon a ciff, so that the west and north sides were un-assaultable.

Quite the impossible task to take that fortress.

So this fortress must have been different. Another important stonghold of good. Someplace that, if captured, would destroy the heart of any resistance. Njord thought hard, not able to come up with any other city.

"So, now... What is your plan?" asked Ax. He knew that they would never defeat the drows if they took them head on... Not with this number of soldiers. Even if these Elvon Huntresses are experienced, there were still more drows.

"To ride with the guiding of the Drow scouts until we reach an apt placing and begin our offensive." Melcanin said with all assurances.

Ax nodded. "I think we should go now..." said Ax. Ax looked up into the sky and smirked. The feeling of the bright moon filled his soul. "Just one second..." muttered Ax. Suddenly Ax started transforming... The transformation was damn ugly, first the head started transforming, then the body, then the hips, then the legs, and then the feet... When the transformation ended a vicious creature was standing on the ground. Thought he looked like he could flesh someone to the bones, and looked vicious, He was behaving normaly. Standing on his hind legs, breathing hard. "Im ready..." said Ax in a grumbly voice.

OOC: Saweet pic dude, I gotta find ones for mine...*runs off to find em*

Melcanin

Erhala

~Nice...~

(OOC: Hmm, impending war, darkness descending upon the land, a mighty fortress stronghold...why does this all sound so oddly familiar? Oh yeah, real nice pics you two got, don't think I'll be using any though. Thinks I'll just leave it up to the 'magination😉 )

Veleanith rode on, head still leaned over Midi’s neck in a state of glumness. After a few minutes of doing this, she lifted her head, throwing off her hood and forcing herself to regain a little of her optimism back. The wind blew through the region, a little stronger than before, Vele letting her raven hair blow partially from her cloak.

Glancing to Njord, she noticed him mumble. “A great army moving on the northern fortress?” He looked ahead deep in thought, as if wondering what it could mean.

Pondering silently as she rode, she gently drummed her fingertips along Midi’s neck. She could only think of few fortresses, the main one standing out being the Cam'Wethrin Nost…but that was a few hours away, a little back north but mainly south. The second one, it was someplace she had visited back when she was a child. It was higher up north, but she hadn’t taken the time to remember its name in her adolescence.

“The Northern Fortress…” whispered Istalindir. He looked up introspectively, making a face before shaking himself back into reality. “No, it can’t be that.”

“Anything’s possible,” chirped in Veleanith to his spoken thought. “What do you think it could be?”

Istalindir shrugged, shifting himself around on the horse. “I’m probably wrong, but it could be the Court of Ice and Stone. Though, I do not see what possible motivation one would have, no…” He trailed off. “I do not see the logic behind such an attack. You would have to have countless strong at your disposal to even consider something of such nature.”

Raising an eyebrow, Veleanith slowed Midi down slightly. “So you do not think that possibly the Drow, whoever is considering this idea does not have an army at his command? It is possible that maybe he has a thousand, five thousand strong.”

Looking over her shoulder to her face, Istalindir made a skeptical expression. “I highly doubt he has five thousand at his disposal. He would have to gather Drow from nearly every sect.”

Shrugging, Veleanith scrunched up her nose. “It is just an assumption on my part. I could be wrong but there’s nothing wrong with amusing the idea…although,” She stopped talking, searching the trees and sky with narrowed eyes. “Is it just me or has it managed to grow darker over the last few minutes…?” As soon as she finished uttering the words, a great shadow overcame the trio, cloaking the very air they breathed in darkness, stopping their horses in their tracks.

The sound of two heavy swords removed from their sheaths was heard. Automatically, Veleanith glanced to Njord, figuring he had taken out his blades. Digging in her cloak, she took out her bow whilst behind her Istalindir took out an elven sword, raising it steadily in the dark.

Muttering rapidly beneath her breath, Veleanith let out a gasp as her eyes glowed, the darkness starting to show outlines, fuzzy images of warriors preparing to attack them. It could have been clearer, but it wasn’t worth the risk of sacrificing her hearing and speech, especially considering they’d need some direction considering the current darkness. She noted three archers on Njord’s side raising their bows, starting to fire. “Njord, move or block!”

Not having time to say more, she quickly pulled Istalindir from her horse along with herself as several more arrows flew over head. Istalindir spoke to her in a whisper, partially concentrating with his fingertips deep into the ground. “You can see through all of this?”

Frantically searching for an arrow, she spoke in a hiss, keeping her conversation short. “I’m adept to plants and partially to light. Mostly use light for healing, without my gem I can’t use it much for clarity without passing out from the strain. After all, I am vampire,” Finally finding an arrow, she put it with her bow, aiming to what looked to be the leader of the vagabonds that were assaulting them. “I wasn’t exactly meant to be angelic and pure.” A cold expression, she fired, managing to pierce into the throat of the heavily veiled one pointing in the trio’s direction.

…Or so she had thought. The being placed both hands up, stopping the arrow from piercing into his skin. Examining the arrow, he looked to Veleanith, then spoke to his men. “Mir tir pholor lil melee!” shouted the holder of the arrow, his voice echoing in the darkness in a Drow tongue.

With his words, the darkness melted downwards, scattering itself into the ground and behind trees, the forest resuming its cheery disposition and glimpses of light able to break through the leaves thick canopy, illuminating the scene showing Njord holding a Drow warrior in each hand, preparing to throw them back while creatures of the forest having felt the danger had passed started to go back into their places. Istalindir meanwhile, had managed to entwine nearly all of them, most wrapped up in vines from the neck down. Smiling at her comrades abilities, she held back an impressed comment, not wanting to inflate their egos.

The man who had spoken walked into view, throwing off his hood to reveal his hair relaxed into a short silver ponytail, his face showing his age, eyes a bright silver. Looking to Veleanith in wonder, he tossed her back her arrow. “It has been years but I can tell. You are the female Eveolinist, your brother’s younger counterpart. Never did forget the…” Looking to her two companions, he glanced aside. “ ‘Job’ he managed in Ostamban.”

Veleanith smiled weakly, her eyes a cautious hazel. She knew the Drow before her, one of her brother’s earlier clients. He hadn’t trusted the man much, Vele could tell just by the way he had smiled to him. She had a feeling she shouldn’t either but forced a calm attire as she tightened her cloak around her shoulders. “You are correct in your assumption, Master Drow, but if you do not mind me asking, why have you attacked my party and I if you know of who I am?”

The man suddenly became serious, several of his foot soldiers who had managed to break free from Istalindir’s bindings heading by his side. Clearing his throat, he stood up as straight as possible. “By the orders of Talloth Da'gar we are to detain any odd travelers going through the forest and you three by far are the strangest. A vampire, an elf, and a Giant-”

“Celtica.” Coughed Njord under his breath. He pounded his chest, excusing himself for the interruption.

The Drow looked to him strangely, pressing his lips together tightly. “And a Celtica,” He corrected, turning his focus back to Veleanith. “Wandering through the forest together, quite strange indeed. State your business and you shall be free to go onward.”

‘And that simply could not have been asked instead of you attempting to,’ Vele glanced to several arrows that were now stuck into the surrounding trees. ‘Detain us? Something is off here…’ . Maintaining eye contact, Veleanith spoke clearly. “We wish to travel through the forest onto Tel-Quanim. I apologize, but our business there is our own.”

“I see…” Nodded the Drow in understanding. “You all are free to pass…except you,” He said coolly, his gaze on Veleanith. It relaxed, him offering a jovial smile. “I request the services of your elder. Would it be too much of a burden for you to contact him?”

Forcing respect and at the same time trying not to display her annoyance, she spoke. “I am sorry but that is not the way we actually work. One can not be stopped and expected to drop all things because of a ‘request’. Only under special circumstances do we even consider the option. And I am sorry to say, that my brother is no longer with me. He’s moved on to better things…though perhaps not into better places,” Rubbing the back of her neck awkwardly, she gave a smile, a hint of a tremble visible. “Though my brother might have accepted as you paid him well last time he worked for you. Perhaps I can fulfill your request?”

The Drow scratched his head with an index finger. “I apologize for your loss. I did not mean to upset you. I guess you will have to do for my request, it is nothing out of the ordinary and it will take less than two days of travel. But perhaps I should explain this in private, yes? Follow.”

Turning around, he started on a brisk walk deeper into the forest, his men following closely after. Njord looked after them in scrutiny, Istalindir in curiosity. “Should we follow?”

Grabbing hold of Midi’s reins, Vele let out her breath loudly, frustration across her face. “We have not much of a choice unless you’d like to risk disrespecting them. My apologies for getting us into such a situation but I’m sure my task will be simple enough,” Nibbling lightly on her bottom lip, she walked after the Drow and his men, Istalindir and Njord close behind.

To be continued…

((OOC: Sorry its been so long guys))

Lanilor and Ismalia walked long and hard for a few day heading more south everyday and finding places to hide during the bright parts of the day. They talked and talked as if they had known eachother for years.

Lanilor reached into his big pockets and pulled out some parchment, It was a map. "If we keep going at this rate we will be at this big city within a day or two" Lanilor put the map back into his pocket. "We were lucky that we found them wild boar to feed on yesturday otherwise we would be so tired" Lanilor said tilting his head till his neck clicked.
"Yeh well shall we get going again then" Ismalia said walking off a little infront.

(( Hey guys is it alright if i meet up with you coz i been outta the game for a long time now so i need to meet up with peeps to get back in the swing of things. Plus it sounds like a battle comin up and it might be fun. so what do ya say))

(Would you happen to be talkin abt w/ Melcanin/Vistal/Axe or Vele/Njord/Istal?)

*continuation

In less than a half hour of the trio walking after the small group of Drow, they came about a forest clearing, several tents visible in the area. Veleanith walked Midi over to a table laden with vegetables. She looked to her left and right quickly. Yawning, she swept her arms up into the air, picking up two carrots and an apple in the process. Putting it inside her cloak, she figured she would feed Midi later.

The Drow looked back to her impatiently, motioning for her to follow after into the grandest tent visible. “I shall be back as soon as possible. Try and make yourselves comfortable during my leave?” The two men nodded whereas Veleanith followed after the Drow and into a brightly lit tent, a roaring fire in the center.

Bowing her head, Veleanith spoke humbly. “Vendui',” Raising her head, she looked up into his eyes. Her brother had made sure she was well learned in nearly all languages and customs, wanting her to be able to blend in with whatever society she was in. She didn’t care for it but at the moment, she couldn’t be more thankful. “What do you request of me, Master Drow?”

Second rule of etiquette, or to be more exact, her brother’s belief. There wasn’t a need to know a client’s name, you were to do your job and nothing more. Contact was best kept to a null or was to be avoided but at times, circumstances sometimes called for association.

The Drow looked at her carefully. “It is actually not as simple as I have made it seem. It will not be for you anyway. Should you choose to accept you are to kill a Drow warrior who is quite skilled in his abilities. You might not come out alive in a confrontation…”

‘But my brother would have,’ thought Vele to his unfinished sentence, partially annoyed at being in her brother’s shadow. Sighing, she placed her hands behind her back. “I assure you I can do just as well a job as any one else you could find within the area. I have been up against many in my lifetime so it does not sound like a challenge. In what direction is my target and how long will I have to execute him?”

“He is to be killed as soon as possible. Your target is a little further back…close to the North western region. If you ride now, you should reach the area by nightfall…of tomorrow.” Observing her expression, his hand slid down to a blade by his side.

Annoyance flared up in her eyes, forcing her to look down before she regained proper control of her emotions. “So I am to ride tonight? I am not certain…no, I don’t think time will allow me to do such a thing. I have an objective I must complete further south.”

The Drow looked to her disappointed, but not surprised. “As you wish,” he held out a bag bulging with coins, judging by the shapes, gold type. “You would have been paid well for the task but I guess only one could have done the job…” He drifted off.

Veleanith was a bit of an airhead, she knew that much, but she wasn’t stupid. He was baiting her, trying to get her to prove herself. Sighing, she figured she shouldn’t disappoint. “And I guess that one shall be me,” Holding out her hand for the bag, she counted out the coins, smiling at her profit. Looking up, she smirked. “Yes, it shall be me, despite it being out of the way. I guess I will have to make it quick, though my comrades might not like the diversion too much. What is the name of the Drow I am to kill?”

Smiling sneakily, the Drow placed a hand on her shoulder. “I shall tell you on our way to his location though remember, I did warn you. It might not be easy for you.”

Veleanith found she felt strange about the scenario, something was nagging at her. Ignoring it, she raised both brows. “We shall see. Nothing has stopped me from finishing a hit before and it’s doubtful I will be stopped now. I shall prepare my horse for the ride; meet me when you are ready?” Bowing her head once more, she exited the tent, bumping smack into Istalindir in the process. Rubbing her forehead, she winced slightly.

Istalindir recovered first, looking to her as if seeing her for the first time. “So you truly are an assassin…?”

Not realizing she had told him her profession, Vele raised her brow, nodding her head slowly, warily. She narrowed her eyes, allowing them to flash back into golden, a hint of threat visible. “Yes, I am. Why? Do you intend on going ahead of me and finding my target, warning them of my arrival?”

“No…” Stepping back, he turned away from her. “I intend to do the right thing.” He burst off into a run, grabbing his items from the top of Vele’s horse as he did so.

“Damnit!” Throwing off her cloak, she started to run after him, throwing a ‘take care of Midi for me’ over her shoulder to Njord. Pushing herself forward after Istalindir, she felt herself grow angry, the adrenaline from the sudden feeling pushing her closer to Istalindir. “Stop this madness now, Istalindir.”

Not commenting, he whispered quickly to the surrounding plants, causing the plants to obstruct her. Waving them away, she bared her fangs practically irate, slightly insulted he’d use her own element against her. Feet away from him, she jumped onto him, he turning halfway in an attempt to dodge. She grabbed onto his arm in the process, pulling him down onto the ground and sending them both rolling down a dirt hill, trampling through underbrush and past rabbit holes onto the grass on the bottom.

Veleanith jumped onto him quickly, taking out his dagger before he could and placing it to his neck. Pinning his arms down, she narrowed her eyes to him. “Listen to me, Istalindir. I do not know whatever you might have had planned in your head but you must swear to me you will not do something foolish in nature and interfere with my hit.” At feeling him struggle beneath her, she placed the dagger closer.

“By doing such a thing all it will result in is me needlessly killing any guards that might show up or me killing you here in this field and I would really rather not do such a thing,” Vele removed the blade from his neck, placing it neatly back in the front of his shirt. Running a hand through her hair, she closed her eyes. “I do not even see the need of going on this hit.”

Istalindir looked up to her, words escaping him. It was surprising that she hadn’t slit his throat right there in the approaching darkness. Finding his voice, he spoke. “Then don’t. We have other objectives. I have seen my whole village slaughtered by the Gurtha Maten and it is my sole goal to destroy the beings. I would rather not have a side-quest of yours and of such a manner defer me from my vengeance.”

Looking up into the sky, she spoke dazedly. “So that’s your story. I understand how you feel, and even though I’ve lost only one,” Folding her arms, she grumbled in thought, wondering how to put it. “To lose many that you’ve cared for, your life suddenly snatched away from you is a tragedy indeed. But for me, to lose one you’ve spent your whole life, who’s taught you everything you know, who was the only thing in the world you actually had…”

Loosening her knees from his arms, she rolled off of him and onto the ground, the grass cool on her back. “…It is a constant misery, a maelstrom of agony and confusion wondering how you even had gotten by in the world. The only reason I maintain this state of optimism is because he would not wish for me to be miserable. And I continue on as an assassin because it is my job, from daughter to son, it is our duty,” A tear left her eye along with a rueful smile.

Wiping it away, she sat up. “Let us make a deal. I give you my word after this task I will not be deterred from our objective and we will continue on our destination. Just swear to me you will not interfere.”

Looking hesitant, Istalindir took a heavy breath. “It is against everything I believe in, but I will not speak a word. I will not interfere in your….” Unable to finish the sentence, he stood up shaking his head, starting to walk back to the base. Veleanith followed after, taking from her hair spare grass and debris.

At the base, they found the Drow getting ready to leave, two soldiers by his side. He motioned for her to get on her horse and follow. She started to get onto Midi, but stopped, looking back to Njord and Istalindir. “You two are free to follow with me onto the hit…well, not directly, I kill solo, but you get the general idea. However, if you are uncomfortable with the idea, you two can go on ahead and I swear I shall meet you both within two days time, three at the longest near the White River.”

Veleanith peeked to the Drow, giving an innocent expression. Rolling his eyes, he held back his commentary as he started off in a slow plod. Following after in the same pace, she spoke back to her comrades. “You have five minutes to make up your minds before we speed out of the area…”

(That’s all folks, night 😖leep: )

((With v/n/i probly i dunno im all confused))

((Oh comeone, Who would ya wanna to hang out with, A Drow, Two Elven Huntresses, and a Werewolve(He can control himself), Plus a huge elven army, Or a young elf, Vampire, Half Vampire...))

((Currently, we're all sorta split up. Sorry, was too tired to explain that out last night...))

The vibrant fiery sun had started to set in the west, its hazy orange radiance quickly being replaced by bright stars starting to blanket the indigo evening sky, Veleanith staying silent during the coming dusk as she rode with her Drow companions. They had been traveling on horseback for nearly a day now, she glancing over ever so often in wonder as to when she would receive information on her target, other than he was Drow. ‘How helpful was that tidbit…?’ She thought to herself sardonically.

It was once nightfall had struck, Vele and the Drow halfway into another dark forest, the three ahead of her seized in footsteps, dismounting their steeds. Following suit, she scanned the vicinity, sensing no others besides them and a large crowd that seemed to be roughly an hour away. Rubbing Midi’s neck, she looked to the Drow, whispering cautiously. “I take it my target is nearby or this has been a set up of some sort to get rid of me…not that I do not trust you Master Drow. Or perhaps, we can only talk in the secrecy of the forest?”

The Drow looked around warily, as did his two soldiers. Relaxing his guard, he raised his head high into the air. “No, your target is an hour away at this point. It’s about time I mentioned who you are after. He is a Drow against the cause, one who cannot be killed by normal means.”

Veiling her frustration with a smile, she cocked her head to the side. “Will you please give me a name? Or a title at least?”

“Ah yes, of course. He is of the Eight Prong of the Silver Oak Sect, Third cousin of High Elder Kallazidor Ge'talliot Istallia of the Isgallioth High Council. The reason we have rode at such as pace is so you can do a stealthy kill. End his life as he sleeps.” Explained the Drow, examining her facial expression carefully.

Making a dejected face, Veleanith spoke crestfallen. “In his sleep? While he sleeps?! What fun or challenge is that? I do not even get the opportunity to fight him? Can I not at least wake him up seconds before I end his life?”

“You are to do no such thing unless you would like to be cloaked in shadow, seconds after, you getting a sword through your heart.” reprimanded the Drow sternly at her ideas.

Crossing her arms, she sighed heavily. “I do not like the prospect of killing a man as he sleeps...” She glanced to the ground at a sudden thought. “Especially from a city that is said to have fallen…” Looking back up to the Drow in avid curiosity, she spoke in wonder. “Master Drow, I do hope you do not mind me asking, but what has my target done? Did he disband during the struggle in Isgallioth, steal from you perhaps, take something of importance?”

The Drow’s demeanor grew cold. “I apologize, but it is not in my place to give out such details. You are the assassin, you do your job without question of motives, understood?”

Bowing her head to hide the flicker of irritation in her eyes, Veleanith spoke humbly, hood over head. “Yes, Master Drow,” Recovering from her annoyance, she looked up to the Drow indifferent. “I shall take care of my target within the hour…”

Viztalzidar rode at the head of their column, next to Melcanin, as they made their way through the forest paths towards their destination.
"We should make camp soon," Vistalzidar suggested. "Our troops will need thier rest for the days ahead and I need to meditate."
A smile formed upon the Huntress' lips, but she made no comment, merely nodding and bringing her mount to a halt. Vistalzidar motioned with his head to their left.
"Behind that clump of trees, there is a clearing with a small spring water pond," Vistalzidar informed her. He was familiar with their surroundings now, for had lived in this region since birth.
Melcanin nodded again and set about getting the troops in order. Vistalzidar took the time to survey their surroundings. All seemed clear, no movement within the trees other than the rustle of bird wings and the buz of dragonflies that reached his acute hearing. Vistalzidar ran his hand along the shadow runes scribed in his leather tunic, the time to test his full potential was about to arrive...and he was nervous.