Hunting the Gurtha Maten --The Hunt--

[Sorry I've been away, hard school coupling with a broken comp can do you in.]

Njord had heard the entire converosation that had passed between Veleanith and Ambrosia from a beetle that had gone un-noticed in the tent. He snoted, and quickly made it back to his horse, tracking Velean to the noblemans house. He had hidden his swords, hatchet, and the spearhead in his pack, looking at if he only carried a quarterstaff, and ridden through the bear-peoples lines, maintaining that he was going the house for the feast. They let him through, mostly because he had a measure of mind control, as they were part bear, over them.

He had hidden amung the crowd, no easy task, not wanting his presence to be known to the vampiress. As she entered the house, he stood and went back to his horse, fetching his spearhead, swords, and hatchet. He watched from a hedge as the party ended, and then went to a window, where he saw the vampire give the old elf some stew. He figured it was poisoned. Then he saw the darkness begin to fall. The Drow. He smiled, and closed his eyes, preforming the same type of chant as before, but with slight diferences. He heard a few screams, and then opened his eyes to see a massive cloud of bats above him. He beckoned one to him, and grimanced as he looked as it. Well, it was the only way he would be able to help....

He muttered a small enchantment, a simple one that he learned at a young age. The bat glowed a strange green. Njord said a quick prayer and bit the bats head off, ripping, chewing, and swallowing. He waited a few seconds, and then writhed in pain. He grew fangs, sprouted laethery wings, and his eyes turned red. He couldnt see too well, but well enough. It wouldnt matter inside anyway. He screeched, like a bat would, for now, he was like a bat. But his mind was still human. He summoned the oither bats to him and breathed deep. He had never fought drow before, espeacially in the dark. He felt....doubt.

He quickly shook it off, screwing on his spearhead. He waited until he heard it. Then there is was, the smashing of doors, the drows were in. He screeched again, louder this time, and beckoned the bats to screech too. They all did, and the glass windows shook, and shattered. Njord jumped into the pitch black room, and the bats followed suit.

"One thing you've forgotten Drow! Bats beat dark."

He spoke in a rather high-pitched voice. Then he heard the screeches of his bats, and they attacked the drow's echos. Njord found Veleanith through his screeched, battling the drow the whole way through. He cursed as he was caught in the side with an arrow. He snapped off the end, and shouted over the screams of drow and bats.

"Vampire, get out! We can deal with the rest!"

He screeched and found a new target, and lunged at the thing. He felt the blow being parried, and he slashed across with the spear, hearing the thump of a bodie onto a floor. He felt a sword blow barely missing him from the side, and he swung around with the butt of the spear, smacked another victim in the head. The shadows started to fade, as did Njord's bat-like abilities, as the Drow diminished in number and lost their concentration. Njord continued to lashed out with his spear, until it was yanked out of his hands. Njord drew both his swords and then smiled. He screeched a last time, and heard, as he suspected, that he was surrounded. He smiled again, and then started tospin in a death spin, his bkades lashing out everywhere. The drow's shot arrows at his, and a few grazed hi body, but most were cut in half by his ever moving, ever killing blades, such was the speed that he span. One of hit blades thumped right against the side of a recklessly charging drow, and was yanked away from his grasp

Having only one sword left, Njord drew his hatchet. Power radiated from the black metal of which it was made. He could barely make out the outlines of his attackers now, and, as his wings were the ;ast thing to dissapear, he flew into the air, counting about 25 Drow left, or those that he could see. He took another deep breath, and dived down into them, his weapons hacking, stabbing, and slashing.

[-cough- Sorry if you had other plans....]

[Le bump. Anyone home?]

[Lols, sorry, went to the beach for xmas and JUST got home, I'll try and post tonight or tomoz...oh and MERRY BELATED XMAS ALL! 😛]

(OOC: Sorry I've been away for awhile...sorta been on lock...er, I mean, I've been enjoying my lovely vacation in the ice cold boonies nearly free of internet access...right. Well, anyways, if I find the time, I'll come up w/ something really quick. Oh, and Dwarfdude, your post worked wonderfully w/ something I have up my sleeve....)

[Yay!!! Now that we're all back, except for Acrypt, it seems, post!!!!-Prod-Oh, and if you wouldnt mind posting in the World War 2 topic, thatd be great, just move up and into the trenches with Will]

Veleanith closed her eyes, her vision useless in the pitch black darkness that had overtaken the room. She stepped back as the rumbling grew, screeches in the dark, the heavy flutter of countless wings setting up the mood for the oncoming assailants. Raising both hands into the air, she let out a whisper to the plants on the sill, striking her hand out to the doors.

The plants broke from their vases, red and green alike, hitting the door and entangling themselves around the golden handles, serving as a temporary barrier. 'It will have to do,' Stepping back from the doorway, she rose her hands as she started to whisper once more, figuring she might as well attempt something.

A fierce pounding was heard from the doors. Her murmurs grew deeper, the room coming to life. The doors, with a loud burst, flew open, at the same time, the glass along the walls shattering into shards as hundreds of bats entered into the room. A pale hint of light was seen from the moon, the Drow entranced by the sudden disturbance, letting their grasp on the shadows slip. Veleanith's concentration had been broken as well, not by the glass or the bats, but the huge creature that had flew in overhead with them and for some strange reason not even she understood provided a sense of comfort.

Pointed glints of silver started to be seen in the once again shadow filled room. The twanging of bows were heard, multiple arrows being released in Vele's direction. She jumped backwards and to the side, behind the chair of the nobleman, wincing as the arrows struck the plush of the throne. A dazed look in her eyes, she leaned back against the chair and slid down to the ground, clutching onto the emerald gem around her neck.

The noises in the background started to fade, her thoughts swirling in her mind as she spoke lowly under her breath, her eyes closed tightly in concentration. The gem around her neck started to grow warm as her murmurs increased, the battle behind her muted. 'It is...but an illusion' Letting her hand slip from the pendant, she opened up her eyes to reveal an ethereal golden, a glow in the night.

Rolling from behind the chair, she turned in the direction of the battle. Swords were seen removed from their sheath, some who weren't being attacked by the creatures of the night swatting away the incoming wave of bats. A Drow, at seeing her jump from her hiding place, readied an arrow in her direction.

He fired, but everything seemed to be in slow motion, the arrow moving syrupy, easily avoidable. Veleanith waited, preparing to dodge the arrow, but was surprised when the huge creature she had seen enter the room stepped in the way, taking the blow from the weapon.

Looking up dully, she noted that it was the giant from the Inn...well, sort of. His features looked to be highly mutated as if he were possessed, the thick leathery wings spanning his back seeming to prove her theory correct. He said something to her in what looked like a shout, but she wasn't entirely sure what. In replacement for the clarity that had overcome her vision, her hearing and speech had become void. However, judging from how his lips moved it looked as if he had said, 'Vampire, get out! We can deal with the rest...'

Nodding her head, she quickly made her way from the room, avoiding the swinging of doors and the launching of arrows as she made her way to the double doors and out the room. Pushing her way out the room and to the adjacent wall, she sighed in relief that she had made it out alive. Her relief soon turned to worry as a huge sword skimmed past her ankles, plowing into the wall.

Glancing back into the room, she saw the Giant flying in the air above the battle. On the ground were what looked to be a little more than twenty Drow, some waiting for him to fall, others preparing to bring him down. Closing her eyes in concentration, she placed her focus onto the room.

'I will not go on a guilt trip...not again,' She opened her eyes with a fierce expression, making a striking movement with her right hand. The vines and roots of plants around that area lunged out, intertwining the feet of several Drow. Twirling, she struck out with the left, this time causing the plants to swirl tightly around some necks, strangling the weak. Finishing up her aim in the center, she smiled, the plants placing a choke hold over mouths, stopping the whispers of the Drow maintaining the shadow and casting a pale luminescence over the area.

Wiping away the clarity from her vision, she smiled in the room, saluting to the giant and figuring he could take care of the rest from there. She became serious as she looked out into the long corridor, three pathways on the left to choose from. Making her way down the first one, everything seemed to be going well. A little too well...

Turning back cautiously, feeling goosebumps starting to develop, she saw only an orange glow, a crackling of flames from a far off torch. The flames grew brighter, roaring to the ceiling, the fire spreading. Frowning at the sight, she turned all the way back in wonder when a figure caught her eyes, a bear like being whispering into the blaze.

The flames started to swirl overhead above the bearish figure, twirling in the air. Veleanith slapped her forehead, dashing in the opposite direction of the flames. 'Damn, flame affinitive.' She made a hasty escape to the end of the hall, and placed her back to the wall, closing an eye at feeling the heat of the inferno slam into the wall adjacent her.

After the heat died down, she opened up her eyes to see a huge scorch mark, smoldering tiles along the once white walls. 'No time to waste.' She ran aside, making her way down another corridor and barely avoiding an ice affinity. Down the last hall, it seemed safe but a loud hiss in the air broke her optimistim. The hiss soon grew into a crackle, a rip in the air as white hot electricity surged down the hall to Veleanith.

Widening her eyes, she sped down the hall, making a quick twirl as she danced into a nearby hall. Her fooling around proved to be her downfall, as a sharp prick was felt at her side, piercing her stomach as she finished her revolution. Hunching over in pain, her eyes closed tightly, she held back a pained groan as she clutched at the sparks surrounding the arrow in her side, the thunder having served as the diversion.

Standing up straight, she took a breath as she looked back into the lightning filled hall. The gold in her eyes turned bright, a sharp round of pain going through her as the arrow was yanked from her side. She turned to the source angrily, seeing only a pair of deep brown eyes looking up to her from a tattered brown cloak. Taking out bandages, she started to wrap up her wound. "You would do well to take better care of yourself, Mistress."

Veleanith started to wave her away with a look of distraction. "I need not the help, I heal auto..." she trailed off turning her full attention to the stranger. "Mistress?" She pulled the hood from the persons head and raised an eyebrow. "Liege girl? What are you doing here...helping me?"

"Olivindar. My name is Olivindar," She finished patching up Veleanith, taking from inside her cloak a bow along with a set of arrows. "And here...here I'm going to prove my point." With a determined expression, she pushed past Veleanith and out into the hall, preparing to aim.

Brushing a hand past the patch on her stomach, she looked to Olivindar with an amused expression. "Oh really. And what is your point?"

Her brown eyes turned a darker shade as she released the arrow, making a shot into the head of the archer behind the lightning affinitive elf. "That I am not as weak as you thought..."

((To be continued tomorrow afternoonish...would finish it now but...I've run out of time in a manner of speaking...oh, and sorry, But I can't post on the other story, the WW2 thing right now, I gotta go))

[You dont have to do it immeadiatly, but be sure to do it soon.]

Njord roared a feral roar as he descended into the mass. He quickly decappitated two, seeing around 8 being bound by the vampire's plants. He reminded himself to thank her, and then hacked his hatchet into another drow's chest, parrying two blows from swords, then slashed one of his attacker's necks off with his counter-attacking hatchet. Slashing another drow's belly, and kneeing another, Njord sensed heat to his left and electricity to his right. He knew he would need to finish the rest off quickly before the two affiliates reached here. His bat companions had long left, Njord's concentration on keeping them here had long faded. He was on his own. He slashed down three more dorw with a massive swing of his sword, and it was yanked away, but the tug of it on a forth body. The drow backed off, out-numbering him 8 to 1, with him only having his hatchet. He panted, and smiled. Just what he needed, a small break.

He began to chant as the black hatchet radiated a strange black smoke.

"Ciara dun Tyr, jra mo fauk tolk."

His chant ready steadily louder, and finally he raised his axe and shouted it. The hatchet grew, and grew, and grew. And there in Njord's hands, was a battle axe. He said to the drow as he smiled.

"Funny, how many tricks I have up my sleeve, eh?"

Unfortunatly, this was his last, and although Njord didnt show it, he was slightly scared. This was his last defense. He took a deep breath, and one of the drow finally said.

"Get 'im."

They launched themselves onto Njord. He fought back with every weapon he had. He swung his axe around his body, taking out three of the charging Drow. He kn ew the secret to success with the axe, to always keep it moving for the next attack, and he did just that. He slashed across, hacked down, swun g around to face the atackers behind him, and kicked one down, slash another, but the last managed to get a sword lunge in between axe blows. Njord roared as it slashed across his arm, cutting fairly deep, but not to the bone. He dropped the axe, and knocked the sword out of the drow's hand with a swipe of his hand. He picked up the drow by the neck with one arm, holding him above his head. Njord merely smiled.

"You cant beat the Celtica."

Njord threw the drow across the room, smacking him against the wall. He breathed deep again and clutched his arm. By the gods, it stung. Quickly finding and sheathing both swords, and muttering a small incantation that shrunk his axe back down to its original size. He picked up his spear and jumped out the window from which he had come in, just as the bear-creature blasted through the door.

Njord ran back to this horse, fetching an extra piece of cloth, which he bandaged his two larger wounds with, after sprinkling them with some extra rum he had brought with him.

Istalindir didn't know how this was possible and he didn't care, maybe he was dead, maybe he went to sleep and just never woke up. All that didn't matter, he was back home and everyone was ok. He stood amazed, staring at the living forest around him, the trees were singing the lovely tones of his people, out of the beautiful sounds that surrounded him one voice caught his ear. 'Istalindar we've been waiting for you, where did you go off to?', a dark haired woman asked him with a smile.
Istalindir couldn't believe it, his mother was alive standing before him, 'What is it mother, why have you been waiting for me?', he asked in an over joyed voice.
'To go to the feast of course.'
Istalindir looked around, everything was real, his mother, his friends, him home town.
'Beautiful isn't it', his mother said as if she was reading his thoughts.
He just nodded in reply.
'Come', she grabbed his hand and pulled him swiftly along the forest, past dozens of his friends and family. It was almost like a dream, everything floated by slowly, smiling faces, people called out to him.
'Your sisters have prepared you clothing for the feast', Selavan, his mother said to him as they approached an all to familiar tree.
It was his home, the very same house he grew up in, out from behind the branches that formed a pearly white door came his three sisters holding a handsome white robe, it glowed brighter than the forest itself.
Istalindir laughed merrily, he just couldn't contain his happiness, the Drow, the hunt, even the Gurtha Maten were driven out of his mind. they all seemed like a faint memory of a dream.
'Go prepare yourself, the rest of us will be waiting for you at the feast...', Selavan let go of his hand with a smile and turned disappearing into the forest.
Istalindir climbed up a silk rope up to his sisters, 'Take these, we will leave you now, your companions are waiting for you at the feast', his oldest sister said before falling to the ground lightly along with his two younger sisters.
He found himself alone with the clothing his sisters made for him in his arms, he ignored the little voice that was telling him that something was wrong and quickly got dressed. A minute later he made his way down from the tree, an elf he never knew came up to him and without a word walked past him.
'Are you going to the feast?', Istalindir called out.
The man just kept walking slowly almost as if he meant for him to follow. Istalindir didn't hesitate and followed closely behind the man, out of the trees more elves, all dressed entirely in white, began to follow soundlessly. As they walked, the trees slowly lessened until finally in a distance Istalindir could make out rows of tables filled with beautiful food and seated by all and everyone he knew that was supposed to have been slaughtered by the Gurtha Maten. The man he was following abruptly stopped, 'Come join us, feast with us', Istalindir said softly as he approached the man. The man just stood silent and stared at the feast, he seemed sad, Istalindir looked behind and found that the wood behind him was filled with elves that he did not recognize, all dressed in white, all silent. They stood still, all looking sad, 'What is this?', Istalindir asked the man who also turned to look at the wood behind them.
'This is a vision, these are all whom you love', he said noting the people seated at the feast, 'And these are the people who love you and owe to you both their lives and their respect.'
Out of misty trees in the distance more and more people came but not only elves, there were centaurs, pixies, animals, strange men of a kind that Istalindir had never seen and more came slowly, quietly, filling the forest behind them.
Istalindir was no longer happy, he was confused, was this a trick of some sort, 'What do you mean, no one owes me anything, I am home', Istalindir said with a desperate tone in his voice.
'This world does resemble you home town, I am proud of my work but it is not truly your home, it is now only a memory.'
A strike of panic arouse inside Istalindir, 'If this is your doing then why have you brought me here!?'
'To remind you, to remind you what you set out for and what you left behind', the man said calmly.
Istalindir was about to leave the man and his disturbing words, to join the feast and not be bothered with dealing with reality, 'Look', the man said grabbing Istalindirs arm and pointing to the last table. Istalindir hadn't noticed before but he did not know anyone on the table, he gazed at the faces, towards the center of the table he found a few familiar faces, they were the barman from Astradom, the Drow, the huntress and the giant, there was a green haired woman who looked slightly familiar, they were all busy talking merrily, besides them Istalindir recognised none of the other people seated at that particular table.
'You know who they are, the people at the last table?', the man asked Istalindir quietly.
'They are people I have not yet come to meet'
'That is not entirely true, you have met those seated in the center of the table', the man said, pointing them out.
'If you know this than why do you ask', Istalindir said annoyed.
'To remind you'
'Remind me what?!'
'To remind you that the fate of the world lays partly in your hands. Your hands and those who will help you on your way to greatness...look more closely.'
Istalindir moved his eyes towards the the end of the row and there was someone who looked strangely familiar, it was him! Not the same man that he was now but a slightly older version of himself. He was happy and talking to the strangers who sat on either side of him.
From behind them the creatures suddenly started pouring out of the forest and filling the tables which were now empty as if everyone who was there only moments ago was blown away silently. The creatures all took their seats and cheered the last most table. The noise was deafening, the man at Istalindirs side was moving his lips but no sound came out, suddenly everything went quiet and it was just Istlindir and the man standing alone in the woods.
'My strength is fading, you will soon wake up and if you intend to fulfill what you have just seen, what you set out to do, then you know what you must do.'
Istalindir was speechless, he stared at the man and tried to respond but found he could not move. The man before him changed as well, his cloths turned slowly dark and his figure older until finally a man covered in dark robes stood before him. Istalindir could not see his face, the forest around them had changes as well, it was dark and grey, the trees no longer beautiful and the ground covered in small animal bones and dead leaves.

Istalindir woke suddenly and found he was in the same tree he climbed up into the night before, it was early afternoon, he had over slept. He remembered having a strange dream but he could not remember if it was pleasant or horrible like the dreams he usually had. It seemed important for him to remember his dream but it was no use, the more he tried, the further away the confused images drifted. He shivered slightly, not that it was cold but just something was bothering him. He grabbed his bag and leaped from the bed the tree had made for him down to the base of the tree. He whispered a few words and dripped a mouthful of water near the base of the tree, the tree shook slightly and unraveled the branches that had formed a bed for him, back into their original form.
Istalindir felt strangely alone, he almost longed for the company that he left behind in ruins, assassins they may have been but they did not have evil hearts, only broken hearts that seeked vengeance like himself. It was too late now, they were far gone by now.
He walked silently through the trees, there should be water ahead and he would stop and eat before continuing, he did not know where he would head next but he did not need to decide yet, most importantly he needed to keep going south. Finally ha approached a small fountain of water coming out of the earth, he filled a pot with water, lit a small fire and started to heat the water. While the water was on the fire he searched for Nieninque roots, a plant he knew grew around here and was very good to eat, after a few minutes he returned with an armful of nieninque roots and a few other herbs. The water was boiling, he cleaned the plants, readied them for cooking and dropped them into the bubbling water. A few minutes later he poured out the water and ate the sweet roots that were among his favorite breakfasts.
Stomach full, Istalindir gathered his belongings back into his bag and made his way south east to the edge of the woods.

OOC: Sorry I havn't been around much lately, life has been keeping me busy with other things. I see this and Resident Evil have almos paused, I hope it's just because of the hollidays.
Dwarfdude it seems like you're looking out for this RPG better than I am, I apriciate it.
Midnight lovely writing as ushual.
Other than that doesn't seem like anyone els is around recently.
btw Midnight, I'm still waiting for you to reply on resident evil, page 38.

((OOC: Thanks for that Acrypt, I already have an idea for the other story but I haven't had the time to write for it what with writing for this but if I can I plan to...hmm, what else, oh yesh, I'll try to write for the WW2 thing when I can))

A raging inferno made its way down the hall, burning through the corridor on it's path to the female archer. It roared inhumanly, speeding down to devour her. Inches away from her, the flames veered away to her sides, an invisible wind sweeping the fire astray. She took aim vindictively, swearing beneath her breath as she fired, taking down the flame affinitive.

Veleanith had been watching Olivindar fight for the past five minutes, coming to the conclusion that she was near invincible. It was abnormal for her to see what was once a weak like servant girl taking down archer after sword fighter after affinitive specialist. The whole thing seemed irregular. As a matter of fact, the whole scenario seemed suspicious. She clutched to her head, brushing a strand of dark green behind her hair as she thought. Raising her head, she looked to the woman with an unusual seriousness.

"Olivindar, do you recall anything strange going on within the past few weeks? Months? I mean anything, from event to stranger." Wincing, Veleanith clutched at what she thought was her healing wound, forcing herself to remain calm.

As if she hadn't heard, she continued on her assault, releasing two more arrows into the oncoming fray. She aimed back in forth between two, finally deciding to fire with two arrows at once, making chest shots.

Biting her lip, she glanced to Veleanith. "The only thing I can think of at the moment is awhile...a few months back. The Drow, the uh...the apathetic one. He wasn't always like that. One day, he just changed. Curiously, it was the same day a stranger came by to talk to my-" She cut herself off, turning back to the battle. "To the noble elf. A stranger came by and the two talked heavily in conversation and planning for days upon days on end. The stranger, I do not think I shall ever forget a figure like him. He was tall, slender, handsome, dark brown hair, nearly to my length but it was his eyes."

A dreamy expression in her eyes, she lowered the bow slightly as she started to reminiscence. "He held the most mysterious eyes I had ever seen. It was as if he had seen all the world in but a shor-"

"What color?"

Olivindar stopped talking at Veleanith's interruption, her tone of the question having chilled her. She glanced to her once more, seeing an expression of understanding, of loathing, radiating from the gold that made up her eyes. Veleanith, her fangs bared, tilted her head with a bitter expression as she repeated herself. "What color? What color were this man’s eyes? What was he?"

"I...he-" Turning back to the battle so she wouldn't have to look into Vele's eyes, she gulped. "He was elven. Looked almost noble in nature. His eyes...they were grey. Why...mistress...do you think you know of whom I speak?"

Veleanith didn't respond, turning away to hide her expression. It was all starting to make sense now, everything starting to come together for her. They...her and Ambrosia, were exactly alike, yet completely different. They held the same exact affinities, their secondary ones being exact opposites. Hers, light. His, dark. 'His advanced quite awhile since I have left him. Things never really do change.'

Scoffing, she turned back to Olivindar with a rueful smile, picking herself up from the sitting position she had been in. "Yes, Miss, in all actuality, I do," She adjusted her skirt, looking down an empty corridor. "At a time, he was...a lover of mine. But times changes, you know?"

Olivindar looked to her with a sad smile as she let go an array of arrows. "Yes, they seem to grow crazier and crazier with each passing breath, nothing we can do to stop that."

"Aye," Veleanith agreed tiredly, her anger hidden behind her expression of fatigue. It quickly turned to curiosity as she looked back to the smiling brown haired elf maiden before her. "Why are you helping me? Why would you? To prove you are not as weak as I had judged, why did you not just spar with me?"

"Because..." The battle having temporarily calmed, she lowered her bow. "You are one of the few who weren't blinded...the few who spoke the truth, as cold as it was. So you are now one of the few I'm fighting for."

Veleanith blinked, surprised her little speech from earlier had done anything. She cracked a smile, letting out a small laugh as she patted Olivindar on the shoulder lightly. "Listen, I am not one that should be fought for. Not by a stranger no less. No, you...you fight for your freedom. Fight for yourself. Though actually," She glanced down the hall, noting several more guards approaching. "I think it's about time we made our leave, do you not agree?"

Laughing, partially out of humor and to calm down her still boiling rage, she started to make her way down the corridor but stopped at hearing Olivindar's response. "I am not going," Veleanith turned back with a frown to see her smiling weakly. "I plan on fighting so I'm free, not escaping. And I will fight for all the years of my life wasted in this place. You go on ahead without me, Mistress. I guarantee I'll be alright."

Running a hand past the twists in her hair, she sighed. Vele hated when her words came back to haunt her, especially so soon. She shook her head. "It is a guarantee if you leave now you will make it from this place alive."

Olivindar just shook her head, motioning for her to go ahead with the same gentle smile. Making a face, Veleanith started to head back but again, an invisible wind came from nowhere, sweeping her off her feet. She couldn't run against it and found herself carried out the manor, out onto her back at the foot of the door.

Getting up instantaneously, she bolted to the door but was shut off as thick vines from multiple plants entwined around the handles and door, sealing off the manor. Veleanith let out a heavy breath, leaning her forehead to the door. "Why is it everyone is able to do something with plants nowadays? Wind and plants...what are the odds?" She didn't bother to attempt her own magic as her previous attack, the one to aid the Giant, had managed to drain her reservoir completely.

Holding in her anger, she dashed away from the house, making her way to the stables, one more thing on her mind before she continued on her journey...

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

A tempest raged outside, the clouds in the sky flashing purple with every lightning stroke that rang out, every thunder clap that boomed. Cold rain slapped against the yellow-white granite, not yet weathering it, the fortress having been through centuries of abuse. Despite the age of the fortress, it was still in use, hundreds gathering their spoils, their horses, leaders bringing together their men.

On this chilly night, when none would walk, many would hide, some would pillage, most stay inside, an elf sat on dark plush chair at the end of a red carpet like floor. To his left and right, several of a different races gathered, cleaning up their horses, shining scabbards, counting gold taken from those who were careless with their wealth. The elf sat, everything merely in the background of his mind as he fiddled a sharp rose between his fingers, soft crimson petals hiding its deadly natures. His eyes, which once held a lively look, had turned a dull grey hue, his emotions hidden on how he felt, his seriousness a clever veil.

One of his minions...no, he hated that term. One of his comrades, one he had always been close with, looked up to him with worry. "Having second thoughts about your set-up? Ya still think it had to be done...?"

The elf said nothing, the twirling of the stem becoming rapid as his eyes flickered, the dull changing strangely. The rose slipped from his grasp, he catching it, blood freely flowing from his palm in the process. He ignored the cut, twirling the rose once more. "Of course I have regrets, but it had to be done. She was the only one...my only weakness," He finally gave a smile, leaning back into the chair. "One of the only women I couldn't control...and one of the only one's I'd die for. She had to be eliminated and she probably already has been. I need not worry-"

A sudden opening of the huge doors making up the chamber interrupted his statement. A figure stood in the darkness of the entrance, hands out keeping the doors open, their attire made up of soaking wet shorts and a short black top. A jade gem around their neck was the most noticeable object in the current darkness. However, a lightning flash came by, quickly illuminating their features, a pair of golden eyes holding nothing but hatred.

They...Veleanith stepped into the fortress, dripping water onto the red marble floor. She ignored it, not caring, thankful her hair wasn't in her face, grateful her anger could be seen. She walked slowly without saying a word, giving a glare to any person within the room that had started to pick up a weapon. Seeing her stare, they backed down almost instantly, turning away from her eyes.

Halfway into the room, she saw her target, looking to her stunned. Scanning the area, she snatched up her rapier, her breathing growing pronounced as her slow walk turned to a strut, then to an angry march, her face covered in rage, she marched over to the elf, to Ambrosia and in a swift movement, picked him up from the chair by the front of his shirt, slamming him into the wall in back of him.

Placing her blade to his neck, she spoke angrily through gritted teeth. "You treacherous bastard. You vile horrible disgrace..." The rest of her words trailed off into different languages, she cursing fluently in each, unable to focus on a single language in her fury. She cut short her outburst in an elven tongue, looking up to him through golden glass like eyes. "Look at me Ambrosia...look to me!" She shouted, pushing him to the wall again.

Ambrosia, who had turned his head, wincing every so often at her words, turned to her, his expression unreadable. She placed her blade closer to his neck, speaking through gritted teeth. "Why...? Why would you do something like this...to me?"

Ambrosia looked into her eyes, thinking of the right words for the moment. He shrugged. "Always hurt the ones you love..."

Veleanith looked him up and down, his eyes speaking the truth, the veil he always put up temporarily gone for the moment. She let go of his shirt, backing away to get a good look at him, the rapier slipping from her fingertips and onto the ground. After a moment of looking, she nodded her head. She lifted back her right hand and with as much force as she could muster, punched him hard against the face, knocking him to the ground.

Shaking her fist, she looked down to him with a mixture of emotions, the most visible one being disgust. "You did something of this nature...something like this? Out of love? Love made you set me up, love made you want to kill me, LO-" She stopped, her raging becoming more pronounced with each passing second. "No, this...THIS was NOT out of love. It is lunacy. Lunacy and Madness are the only things that can drive someone like you...to this! If this was love, I'd rather you hated me, you hated me with a VENGEANCE!" She shouted, her bitter tone echoing out into the now quietness of the fortress, all eyes on the two.

Veleanith picked up her rose from his bleeding palm before walking back from him, picking up her cloak from the same table she had gotten her rapier. "At least I would know for sure where we stood, what was really going on in that little mind of yours," Swinging her cloak on, she picked up the green rose, his prototype, and placed it inside her cloak, giving him a look daring him to say anything. "Twenty years and you are still the same manipulative bastard, nothing but a mere calculating child!"

Walking to the entrance, she stopped, glancing back as she put on her hood. "I would kill you myself but I wish not for your blood on my hands. Besides, I know one day you will get yours far worse than I will. What goes around comes around, Ambrosia." She waved bye, her angry golden eyes the only thing visible as she walked out into the raging storm.

"Midiayla!" Veleanith shouted, forcing her tone into a gentler one. Out from the stables, her horse come thundering out, slowing down to a trot feet away from her. She mounted her horse, brushing her neck tenderly. "Come Midi, let us make haste and get the hell out of here." She pushed Midi onward through the storm, so caught up in her anger and other emotions that she didn't manage to see...still hadn't managed to notice...

...her wound still had not healed...

((Would be more but again, time is up for me. Sorry, really am, but I'll finish this tomorrow, along with getting to the WW2 and the RE story...if I'm not rushed again as I was so casually done now...))

[Yeah well...I like this RP idea, and I've been in too many RPs that just die....]

Njord winced as the alcohol touched his wounds, but it felt good afterwards, as he bandaged them up. He took a gulp of rum, then stowed it away in his pack again. It was warm, so instead of his cloak, he put on a well-worn travelling cape on instead. It had used to be green, but the elements had torn at the color until it was a dull brown. Njord remounted his horse, and rode out of the town, heading on a east-southeast course.

About 15 minutes later, the squall was on him, coming in from the west. It poured onto his head, and Njord wasnt bothered by it. He welcomed it, knowing it would keep those bear-men at bay. He quickly rode through their lines, not spotting any, figuring that was due to either the rain or the slaughter back at the mansion. Njord put his hood up, figuring that he should probably find a place to stay, at the nearest inn, or in a deserted home.

He turned more southerly, and found a dirt path, made by either sheep, cattle, or men. Hoping the latter, Njord started down the small path. As the lightening lit up the sky, the thunder boomed dangerously, and the wind and rain tried to hold him back, Njord still pushed his horse against the elements, heading down a small hill into a valley, at the bottom of which there was a small stream. It looked like there was no human inhabitant here...But then he saw it.

It was a small cabin, lit by a single flickering candle in the window, which, as hard as the wind blew, could not be put out. Njord blessed the gods, and steered his horse downstream, heading for the house by the brook. As he reached it, he noticed a willow, placed by just a few yard from the door, large and mighty as it "drooped" over the brook. Njord thought something looked strange about that tree, but urged his reluctant horse forward anyway. As he reached the door, the tree swung violently in the wind, knocking Njord from his horse. Njord shook himself, and watched as his horse trotted away from the tree, nieghing. Njord walked over to it, stroking his companion's nose, trying to sooth him. Njord tried his horse up to a small sapling, and walked over to the house again. The tree again swung violently, but njord managed to dodge the branch, and then continued to the door. The tree swung back, and knocked him to the muddy ground.

Njord had, by now, realized thgat this was no ordinary tree. It seemed to be alive, or enchanted. Njord tried to yell over the din of the ever violent wind.

"What do you want tree? All I wish is to take refuge in this house!"

The tree didnt respond. Njord took a deep breath, and ran for the door. The tree moved quicker, knocking him away with a branch. Njord wipped away an opened cut on his forehead, and asked the tree the same question.

"What must I do to rest in this cabin?"

The tree shook this time, as if in laughter. Njord snorted. Funny, eh? Njord would show...it. He took out his hatchet in a threatening way. The tree shook ever more violently. Njord roared an insult, and then ran at the tree's trunk, his axe poised for the strike. The tree swept him away like a fly. Njord persisted, running at the tree numerous times with his axe raised, each time with the same result. He cursed and spat at the tree, putting the axe back in his belt. If speed and strength could not do it, then wit and intellect must be the key...

Njord studied the tree for a few minutes, and he sensed it studying him. Njord made note of everything, the shape of the leaves, how far over the brook it bent, how many branches it had, everything. Finding nothing abnormal wih the tree, Njord now studied the cabin. He walked around it, never coming within the willows reach. othing was out of the ordinary with the cabin, except for the candle that never went out. He went back to his wary horse, patting it and stroking it, looking around in the still pouring gale for a clue.

Then he saw something different, something that wasnt there before. A small, square, stone in the ground, just out of the tree's reach. He kneeled beside the stone, wiping the mud that remained on it. There was an inscription on it, and it read.

In order to go a warm by the fire,
Tell me the one sings like a liar.
The first of first and latter three in cute
And he's loved by a bard to boot!

Njord read the poem over and over, thirty times at least. Who, or what, is the first in first and the latter three in cute, loved by a bard, and sings like a liar? Njord racked his brains. He was sure it was an instrument of sorts, if its loved by a bard and sings...the name of it was hidden in the third line...He was sure of it.....The first of first....F!!! Well, theres your first letter....The latter three in cute....f-ute? That made no sense....What bard plays a fute? He looked harder....He hummed it in his head, the beat. He screwed up once, putting a comma between latter and three instead of first and the and...He blinked. Wait...He said it to himself.

"The first of first and latter? Thats it! The first of latter! L!!"

F-l-ute...Flute!!!But it was so obvious! Sings like a lyre, not a liar, it was a play on words!! Njord laughed at the clever man who made this riddle [I flatter myself] and then wondered what to do with his new "password". He shouted it at the tree, and the willow quaked violently, not like before, and then froze, stiff as a brick. Njord untied his horse and entered the shelter, finding it to be seemingly ready for him. A loaf of bread, cooked chicken, and two jugs, one of wine and one of milk. Njord ducked his head under the doorway, and looked around. Going back outside, he went under the tree, which no longer swung out at him. He found it to be completley dry, the foilage so thick, not rain drops could get through. He tied his horse to a branch and gave him his feed bag, going back inside.

Although he had to duck under the doorway a little, the house seemed just the right size for him, even the stool at the dinner table was his size. All the candles were lit, and the fireplace roared happily. Njord closed the door and approached the food, sniffing it, trying to detect poison. He didnt smell any, and wondered who had built this paradise. Someone who was generous and kind, obviously.but no one seemed to be home...Njord shrugged, and sat, breaking off a chunk of bread and chewing it slowly. His pace eventually picked up, and he agreed with himself that this was the best food he had ever tasted.

After filling himself, Njord dragged the stool in front of the fire, a mug of milk that he had added a little rum to in his hand. He listened to the wind outside, and wondered where the others were. He gulped from his tankard, and sighed. He would wake up at dawn the next day, and set out to find his freinds. He decided on that, and drank the rest of his milk with rum. After setting out his traveling cloak to dry, Njord laid down on the floor, throwing his cloak over himself. The next day would be long and strenuous. Almost as long and strenuous as this one. Well...maybe not. Njord closed his eyes and feel asleep instantly, his snores rivaling the thunder outside.

((OOC: Hey guys im back have a good xmas i did well it was ok lol god you all write so much but good job wont post yet but will l8rz lol see ya l8rz xx.))

EDITED---sorry double posted 😮

OOC: No rush midnight, I was just pointing it out, I thought maybe you missed it because it was pushed out quickly by 2 new pages posted since then.
Man I am in awe of the two of you guys writing, I feel like I have to really work overtime to come up with something in your level of writing.
I'm going to do a little jump in time and pretend that I didn't wake up so late.

A green meadow opened up before him as Istalindir stepped out from behind the last of the trees, the forest laid behind him and now he had to decide where to go next. Only a couple hours had passed since he woke up, the sun was still in a low morning position, he had made good progress through the wood. Istalindir kneeled to the ground with him bag set before him, he rummaged through it for a moment before pulling out a large map that Aseymon had provided him with. He traced a finger from Mardonin to the west, into the wood that laid behind him, then he continued south east to where he assumed he was standing. He would cross the meadow and meet up with the great "White River", there he would travel east along the river till he reached the crossing of Tel-Quanim, that would lead him to the largest city in the region, they would most likely prove harder for the Gurtha Maten to overtake. The city Tel-Quanim was originally built by the Giants of ancient times, they were enormous creatures who possessed great strength and love for building, their unique connection with the earth made it possible for them to build a city of the likes which have never been matched by modern day building. The Giants have mostly died out and the few that remained have grown small with time and cross breeding, there were no pure blooded Giants of Tel-Quanim left today. Tel-Quanim is surrounded by the highest, most sturdy wall ever built in this world, the wall towers 170 feet tall around the city, inside there are towers that reach twice that hight, The whole city seemed to be built out of what seemed to be one solid slab of stone or more the likes of a city carved out of a mountain made out of solid stone. Beings of many races now dwelt in the city, large men like beings who were the ancestors of the great giants and many more. Istalindir had seen the city from a distance, standing brilliantly on top of a large hill, many years ago, then he had wished to travel there but he did not know then the circumstances which would bring him to that same city in the future.
Istalindir folded the map, put it back into his bag, shouldered his bag and continued down into the valley. The open air lifted his spirit a bit, the morning sun felt warm on his skin and he couldn't help but hum a pleasant note as he walked. In the distance about and hours walk ahead of him, he spotted a small cabin with a large tree by its side, he decided to see if anyone lived there. After a few minutes of walking Istalindir picked up his pace to a light jog and eventually to a sprint, the wind on his face felt good on his smooth skin and the waist high grass brushed his hands as he ran. A few minutes later Istalindir arrived at the house, it was quiet, there seemed to be no one home. He approached the door when a sudden swooping sound made him jump to the side, a huge branch of the tree flew only inches past him. He got up and brushed his cloths off, 'Will you not let me pass?', he asked the tree but the tree just stood silent. Something was strange about the tree, it didn't feel like a living life form, it was almost like the tree was possesed, whoever planted the tree here had disciplined the tree well, it was likely to listen to no one and nothing other than its master. Istalindir decided to test his speed against the tree now that he was ready for it. He ran a few feet, ducking under a hight swinging branch but he wasn't quick enough to dodge the large Branch that caught him strait in the middle. He flew a few feet in the air and landed roughly on the ground. Passing the tree seemed imposable using speed so Istalindir sat a safe distance from the tree and tried to communicate with it while trying to think of an alternate way of passing it as well.

OOC: Check out the map I made in the OOC thread!
Sorry for cutting it short, my friend just came to pick me up.
Dwarfdude, I leave my character in your hands if you plan on continuing during the next 2-3 days, I'm going to a friends house now for early new years celebrations, see ya all in a couple days!
WB bildo, I was wondering what happened to you!

[This is gunna be a short one...Just gunna let Istalindir in. BTW...Do you think this should be like the meeting place for our merry band? Should we all meet up here before continuing on?]

Njord jolted upright when he heard the curse and swoosh of a branch. Someone else was trying to enter. Njord looked outside a window to see the elf from before, the one who had called him a theif and an assassin. But Njord held no grudges, and the blow from the tree was punishment enough it his eyes, Njord thought. He winced and rubbed the multiple bruises from the night before. Yes, punishment enough indeed. He threw on his chainmail shirt, and opened the door.

"Flute!"

The willow quaked violently and froze. Njord looked at his freind, and beckoned him inside. Istalindir quickly stood and ran over, slightly wary of the tree still. Njord offered him the half-eaten chicken and remaining bread from the night previous, and smiled.

"A long journey, eh friend?"

Istalindir nodded, and ate the food he was offered hungarily. Njord looked outside and yelled the password again, before he got thwacked. He went under the tree to see his horse, and removed the feedbag from his companion. He looked down at the little brook, and realized it was brimming with fish. He quickly grabbed his spear and stabbed one, catching it easily. He plucked the wriggling thing off his spear, and chopped its head off. He speared another one in the same way, and went inside, holding them up.

"Lunch!"

Njord chuckled and put them on the table, only to realized Istalindir had fallen asleep on the floor. Njord smiled.

"More for me!"

HE began to prepare the fish, wondering where the others were, and hoping they were doing well.

OOC: Hey Bildo, Xmas was ok. That was a nice riddle Dwarfdude...quite nice. I guess the cabin could be the meetin point, sure why not? Oh, and the map you made was cool Acrypt, wonder how many other places will be added on...but enough rambling from me, onto the story...

Veleanith rode slowly on Midi, not daring to plod too heavily and risk falling into one of several muddy ditches. The rain had died down overnight, the cool of the water having left Vele, leaving her hot and bothered. The red orange glow of the rising sun wasn't of any help to her either as it pained her eyes, tears coming from the smallest hint of light.

For some reason she couldn't understand, her joints were aching, every movement she made felt as if she were being burned alive. Wincing, she adjusted a leg on Midi, pushing her forward. "Come, let us at least make it to the next town before we settle down. I probably just need a good night's rest is all."

Reaching her arms out into the air, she stretched out tiredly, instantly having to place her arms back down as a sharp pain coursed throughout her being. Tears starting to come to her eyes, she hunched over. At the same time, Midi neighed loudly, rising up into the air.

In her horse's movement, Vele quickly calmed her down, noting a patch of sticky fur on her horse's back. Once thoroughly settled down, she moved back on Midi to see a trail of drying blood down her steed's back. She petted her affectionately, rubbing her neck. "Ambrosia did not hurt you, did he? If he did I will not be so kind as to let fate take its course..." She started to finger her rapier, but stopped at feeling her hands become warm and sticky.

"Hmm?" Letting go, she looked down and saw as she had reached for her weapon, she had brushed past her wound from earlier. Blood was still freely pouring from it, the clothe that had been wrapped around her soaked through. Lifting the useless clothe from her wound, she saw that overnight, it had turned dark in shade, bleeding profusely without stop.

Confusion was the first thing to seize her. 'How could I still be...why didn't my wound heal by now? It is merely an arrow wound. I have had far worse throughout the years heal up faster than this.'

Veleanith stopped talking as she felt a pain in her chest flare up. She hunched over, coughing out warm crimson onto her hands. She spit out any excess blood out into the open before turning her now worried golden gaze to her red covered hands. "Something is wrong here...how could I not have smelled it, all the blood I've been losing, all the blood I've lost..."

Even now, as she tried, she couldn't get a scent from the blood, her senses completely dulled. Wiping her hands into her cloak, her vision slowly turning to a haze, she pushed Midi forward, hoping to make it into the next town before she became worse.

Halfway through her speed run, she felt her hands become loose on her horse's reins. Sitting up had become painful, everything around her contributing to her current excruciated state. She slipped from Midi’s back, tumbling on her side downhill, stopping near what looked to be a brook. Eyes half open, she reached out a hand into the water, a cool comfort to her currently feverish state.

Midi rode down after her, petting into her cheek in an attempt to get her onto her feet. Veleanith turned her gaze to the water, patting Midi with her free hand. "Do not worry about me Midi...I think I will just..." she took a wheezing breath. "I think I shall just rest here for now...although," Forcing herself to find the energy, she turned to Midi with a weak smile. "You can go see if you find someone nearby considering I might not be around for awh..." Veleanith trailed off, falling unconscious.

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

[And now, for an explanation to what the hell that was about, let's go back to the servant girl i.e. Olivindar, shall we?]

Olivindar stepped into the stables cautiously, her cloak having been singed and the occasionally spark of electricity at the hem of her dress. She fingered the bow in her hand cautiously, looking around in earnest, listening for any sudden breaths. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary, the horses neighing about as usual, oblivious to the slaughter that had ensued, only focusing on the rising sun's warmth and light coming in from the stained glass windows.

Making her way to a chestnut horse in the center of the room, she lowered her bow as she walked across the hay, her footsteps making slight crunches in the dried out grass. She instantly raised her bow back, carrying a vindictive expression at seeing one of the noble elf's wives stepping from the behind the horse. Snarling, she pulled the arrow back. "Step back, Liliath. I will not be stopped. I have gone through far too much to be turned back from an arrogant elf, his minions, or his servant women so-"

"He is dead," interrupted Liliath, her tone airy, soft. Petting the chestnut horse with a sad expression, she turned to Olivi. "He has been dead for hours now. With all the madness that ensued at the manor, I barely managed to make my way here to make sure his animals were alright."

Lowering her bow, Olivindar narrowed her eyes. "They are not his creatures, not anymore. He is dead, he is of no burden to us. If you are not here to stop me from leaving, then what are you doing here?"

Liliath placed a palm over her chest, a determined look in her eyes. "We have to rebuild his manor, keep his place intact. We are his heiresses, it is our duty. I do not wish to force you but I will if I have to."

Raising her bow once more, Olivindar scoffed in disgust. "I would sincerely like to see you try. Half of his men have been taken down by a mere elf maiden, you would not be such an arduous task," Pulling back the bow, shaking her head as she aimed, she spoke threateningly. "One shot is all I would need."

Liliath looked to her with an expression of hurt. "You would shoot at me with an arrow? A tainted arrow nonetheless..." Olivindar lowered the bow in confusion whereas Liliath shook her head, starting to feed the chestnut horse. "Back before you grew a spine, you always had your head buried in your own affairs, not even conversing with us, your...sisters in a manner of speaking. And you never dared eavesdrop, as I had so casually done."

Smiling, revealing a row of sparkling teeth, she turned in Olivi's direction. "Every arrow in storage had been tainted with poisons within this region, some heavily laden with it, others lightly. The effect would be the same no matter the amount, death would follow in the end. Symptoms are not immediate and it works differently on most. It can come into effect within a matter of minutes...hours...days. It all depends on one's constitution. It might not work on some but..."

Liliath let Olivindar think on the rest. Swearing viciously, she tried not to drop her bow, figuring out that the Mistress, Vele, had been poisoned. Her expression of worry soon turned enlightened, a small smile across her face. "But...judging from your earlier pause, I take it you know that the soon to have been Mistress, the one you stood guard over earlier, she had been shot. But she is a vampire, she need not worry about such things. Poisons do work but the affect-"

Holding up her index finger, Liliath shook her head with a knowing expression. "Wrong, little sister. I am sure she would like to think she is vampire and nothing more, but there is far more to Veleanith than meets the eye..." she now pointed to her left eye, unlike her right eye (blue) it had gained a silver hue.

Olivindar lowered her bow befuddled. Liliath always knew more than her share about people, all at a glance with her silver eye, her blind eye. It was a gift that scared most but it served its purposes. "What do you mean? What do you now..." She knew there was a hint of fear to her tone, but she didn't care at the moment.

Liliath started to comment, but with the sound of a blade piercing into flesh, she stopped mid talk, gasping for air. Blood pouring down her eyes, she clawed out in Olivindar's direction, reaching for breath. She soon stopped, her hands falling limp to the side as she collapsed forward, an axe to the back of her head.

Behind her stood one of the burly wives, looking down to her dead form in disgust. "You always did talk too much. Killing you and getting away with it truly is bliss. I truly I'm lethal when I'm in my form," she started to raise her head. "And as for you, little-" She stopped, cut off by the three arrows that had pierced into her neck, chest, and forehead. She fell down dead across Liliath.

Oliviandar lowered her bow, throwing aside the weapon. She kicked the burly sister from Liliath, looking down to her with hatred. "Guess you weren't as lethal as you thought," She stepped onto the dead woman's lightly, pushing the arrow deeper into her neck. "I always knew I would be the one to kill you, the one who pushed me far too many times."

Releasing her foot from the arrow, she mounted the chestnut horse, dashing away from the stables rapidly. She kept her vision forward, riding to the north back to her people. "Good riddance to you noble elf, good bye all you wives who have not yet gotten away, and may the Gods help you Mistress..."

-end of Olivi's story-

((OOC: There...all done...Happy New Years in Advance to All, and to all a goodnight! Yeah...something like that))

I hate my comp. Ignore this post...

Njord was grooming his horse and catching fish for weeks to come when, to his surprise, he heard a horse winny downstream. Njord ignored it, figuring that a horse has just been spooked by a large fish or something. He heard the winny again, and frowned, looking down to where the noises were coming from. He heard the thumping of hooves, and he grabbed his spear, preparing himself for anything. I horse came around the brook bend. Just a horse. It was fully saddled and all, but it had no rider. Njord caught the horse by the reins and pulled it in, patting it and soothing it. He recognized this horse.

Njord frowned, going back in his mind, but he couldnt recall when he had seen the mare...He put his hand on the forhead of the mare, his eyes going white. Maybe through its memories he could find out where he had seen it. He went through the memoies one by one, finding nothing that interested him. Then he found one from just a few minutes ago. He gasped, even in his entranced state, breaking his concentration. The vampiress, lying on the ground, blood pouring from a wound in her side. Njord mounted his own horse, not bothering with the reins, saddle, or anything. He whispered into his horses ear in the foreign tongue of the Animals, Follow this horse., and told Midi to take him to her, quick as she could. The mare nodded slightly, and bolted off, Njord's stallion close behind, with Njord holding onto the mane.

Within 10 minutes, they were by Veleanith's side. She still laid there, bleeding to death. Njord leaped off his horse, and ran to he side, checking for breathing. She was alive, but barely. Njord stripped cloth from one of his shirt sleeves, and speared a fish. He chopped the fish's head of, and squeezed the juice out of the meat onto the bandage. It was an old hunter's trick he knew of. It was an anti-biotic sort of thing. He bandaged the vampires side, picked her up, and put her on his horse. He himself got up behind her, and reached around, grasping the mane of his trusted steed. He kicked the horse into motion, and the mare followed after her master.

They reached the cabin again, and Njord yelled the password at the violent tree. He picked Veleanith up off the horse and opened the door loudly, waking Istalindir. He lied the vampiress out on the floor, and re-bandaged her. Blood was flowing endlessly from the arrow wound. He used the same trick as before. He snapped his hands in front of her eyes, but nothing. She was out. And it would be for good if they didnt move quickly. Njord examined the wound, coming to the conclusion that it was one of three poisons that was keeping it open.

"Lantir poison, Vajot poison, or Tulwar poison....There is one way to tell if it is Tulwar, one way to tell if it is Varjot, otherwise its Lantir."

Istalindir looked at him, seeking the bits of information. Njord continued.

"If its Varjot, then the person will regurgitate fish..."

Njord grabbed a fish and cooked it quickly. It was done in about 10 minutes. He put some of the meat in her mouth. She unconciously chewed and swallowed. They waited a few minutes. Nothing.

"Not Varjot."

Istalindir looked at him.

"And how do we know if its Tulwar?"

Njord sighed...He hated to say it, but he did.

"The person's saliva in lemon-flavoured."

Istalindir nodded and froze.

"You not going to...?"

Njord smiled.

"No...You are, my freind."

"Oh no I'm not!"

"You are."

"I am not going to kis-"

Veleanith coughed up some blood. Njord cursed, it was getting worse. Ah well. He quickly dipped it finger into her mouth and found some un-tainted saliva. He cringed slightly and then licked his finger, spitting it out momentarily.

"Lemon."

He wiped his finger on the rug, trying to think what the cure for Tulwar Poison was. He closed his eyes and remembered way back to his teachings. His eyes flashed open, and he remembered.

"Indigo salmon. Thats the cure."

"And its found?"

Njord sighed. There was only one place where Indigo salmon lived year-round, and by the time either of them returned, she'd be dead.

"The delta of the White River is the only place I know of."

Istalindir nodded, sighing. Njord stepped outside, looking out the fish go past in the brook. Suddenly there was a splash, and a falcon went rising into the air, a fish in its talons. As Njord stared at it, it came to him. How to get the fish and get back within a day! He rushed back inside, and told Istalindir. The elf shook his head.

"It'll never work."

Njord shrugged. He had to try, no matter if she survived or not. He went outside and beckoned the feasting falcon to him. He took off his chain mail shirt and his regular shirt, wincing as the falcon dug its talons into him and caused him to bleed. He caught the blood in a small vial, and then held the falocn by its body lightly. He cut it with a small knife from the cabin table, not enough for the bird to die from, but enough for it to bleed. He caught that in the same vial. He let the furious bird go free, saying sorry as it flew away. Njord started chant as he had with the bat, but it was slightly different. This spell drained him magically much more than that one. The blood started to boil, and Njord held it over his head. He pour the blood onto his head, and, for such a small mouth of blood, it seemed to soak his entire body.

Njord roared in pain, as he morphed into an exact replica of the flacon whom's blood he had taken. He quickly took off into the sky, heading southerly, to te White River delta, where he would find his prey.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As Njord approached the delta, it was midday, and he wondered how Veleanith was doing. He flew over the river delta, trying to spot his target. He flew lower and lower to the ground, and finally spotted one. He divebombed, but the fish had spotted him, so Njord lifted back up into the air. He looked again, and found another, and divebombed. This time he was successful, and he lifted back into the air, and soft blue fish clutched in his talons.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Istalindir scanned the skies, looking for his transformed freind. He gave up as night set in, and headed back in, figuring that Njord would be too late, the vampiress's breathing had already faded.

A few minutes later, he heard a screech outside. There was Njord the falcon, perched on the willow, a fish clutched in his talons. Njord flew right into the house, dropping the fish on Veleanith, and flew right back out, to the brook. He caught another fish in his talons, and ripped apart the body. Njord was dissatisfied, and got another fish, while the elkf cooked the fish for Veleanith. Njord finally found a pregnant female, and ate her eggs. The falcon turned back into man, and Njord, panting, dragged himself to the cabin.

He opened his mouth to ask a question and then fell to the ground, passed out from exaustion.

After what seemed like an eternity, Vistalzidar rose to his feet and pulled his nephew upright. He stared into Aelizor's eyes.
"Tell me everything that has happened with the sect," Vistalzidar commanded him. "Starting with how my brother died at the hands of the Death Eaters."
"It was that snake, Talloth Da'gar!" Aelizor hissed. "That sorry excuse for a high lord fed my father to them like dog meat. You know as well as I do how long Talloth has desired control over the sect. Well, fathers voice was the only one that stood in his way of having a majority on the council. With father out of the way, and you not there to speak with his voice, Talloth has control. Don't you get it, uncle? That is the true reason you were sent to kill the Vice Regent, for no other reaosn to get you out of the way. I am still too young to speak with my fathers voice on the council..." Aelizor hung his head. "I couldn't stop him."
Vistalzidar frowned. "I don't understand why even he would go to such lengths. What has he to gain from such a move? We are nothing but a small sect of assissins."
Aelizor tapped Vistalzidar on the head. "In his mind, he has everything to gain, and has in fact already set the wheels in motion."
"What do you mean?"
"Talloth has already sent our men scouting the country side for our kind. From our borders on the Veldrin Ranges to Tel-Quanim to Ostamban, he brings them home. Oh, many don't want to go, but Talloth gives them but one choice. Join 'his' sect, or be fed to the Death Eaters. I never thought I would feel sorry for those of our kind that aren't in our sect, but I find that happening uncle. He forces them into his army, trains them until they drop, all to achieve one completely rediculous goal. Never mind the fact that these Death Eaters roam the country side, his one goal remains firm."
"And what would that be?" Vistalzidar snapped in frustration.
"To march on the Court of Sand and Stone."
"What!? Is he insane!?...What will that prove? The Death Eaters will kill him just as readily as anything else, why even bother?"
"Talloth's lust for power has grown well beyond our own sect now, and as it grows, so does his ability to see reason lessen. No amount of talking, or threatening, will curb his path towards the Court of Sand and Stone. We few," Aelizor gestured to his men, "Have escaped the madmans clutches in order to warn you. We must stop Talloth Da'gar from marching, or we will have no chance to defeat these, 'Death Eaters'. If he marches, he will imprison eveyone that does not jump to his every beck and call. He will maim, he will torture, he will kill, and in the end, there will be nothing left, no glimmer of hope, no will, nothing left within the people of this world to resist the power of the Death Eaters."
Aelizor clamped his hand on Vistalzidar's shoulder. "I need you and the Huntress to help me kill Talloth, to storm the sect and kill those who walk in his shadow. The world cannot fall to the Death Eaters because of the gargantuous ego of one upstart Drow."
Vistalzidar glanced at Melcanin, who nodded her head emphatically, then he turned back to Aelizor as he removed a silver arrow from his quiver and placed it in his nephew's hand. "I want you to drive this shaft into that devil's heart and free our kind from his desires of power once and for all."
Aelizor nodded. "It would be my pleasure, uncle. But first, we have to figure out a way to reach our target."
"Mount up," Vistalzidar ordered the men suddenly, then smiled at his nephew strangely. "You leave that part to me."

[What what? So you guys are going to go off on your own side quest, while we continue south?.....This reminds me of something..... *coughFellowshipoftheRingcough*]