The Seed [OPEN]

[Emma]

When it came down to it, I would feel regret rather than relief once Aundae was dead.

Treason, as in any self-respecting country, was punishable by death in Du Weldenvarden; especially on this scale. Dhaunayne Aundae was a full-fledged colonel in the army- passionate, patriotic, and deadly. However, one of those things had proved to be very untrue after a deliberate assassination attempt on Evandar Könungru about one week past, resulting in the prince becoming very ill. The queen had been positively enraged once the attempt was discovered, going into a frightening fit before ordering me to personally wipe the traitor off the face of the earth.

And Dhaunayne Aundae, despite being a turncoat and a human sympathizer, had been my friend and trusted ally, and one of the most brilliant tacticians in the army. Humble and eager to learn, she had looked up to me during much of her time in Du Weldenvarden’s military. I had no intentions of letting her crime go unpunished; in fact, I would force her to suffer to her last breath, as Dellanir had ordered. But at the same time, I was regretful- regretful that one of the greatest warriors I knew would meet her death in execution rather than battle, and would do so in a filthy, lightless bog.

Oddly, Aundae had made a break for the east instead of fleeing Du Weldenvarden like most criminals, and seemed to be laying low in Nädindel, at least for the time being. However, Nädindel was a swamp, and a dangerous one at that- it was populated by fearsome creatures, biting insects and poisonous plants. If I didn’t die from the heat, I would easily be claimed by one of those terrors. On top of that, the elves here were hardly distinguishable from the animals. However, considering that I now relied on half a dozen of them to help me locate Aundae’s hideout, I kept my opinions to myself.

I emerged from the river of dark filth, red insects swarming my arms. Once they realized that there was no bare skin for them to feast on, they scurried away, likely hunting for corpses. I had been forced to leave my ivory-and-sapphire-hued suit of steel armour back in Ellesméra to put on something more suited to the climate. Dark green like the swamp, and scaled like a snake, the armour was irritably form-fitting, and covered every bare inch of my skin. I had on a helmet with reinforced, tinted glass to serve as a visor, so everything was in various shades of green- very helpful in the blackness of the marshes.

The river was more oil than water, pasty and glue-like as it did its very best to suck me back within it. It failed to get a good grip on the uneven plates of armour, however, and I easily pulled myself free and onto the dirt and reeds of the bank. We were not actually in Nädindel, and somewhere on the outskirts of it- not that anyone but one of its inhabitants would ever be able to tell the difference. Aundae apparently had some sort of safehouse near here. Being a native of Nädindel, she knew how to use this terrain to her advantage. She would probably be the most powerful opponent I’d ever taken down.

However, it was late. The tree canopies were so thick that it was always dark on the rainforest floor, but the worst of Nädindel’s creatures were nocturnal. The hunters accompanying me would take me to a special blind where we would spend the night, and then we would resume our search in the morning. Dellanir was constantly scrying Aundae, so if she left the city, we would know. I pushed myself up onto my knees, and then stood up slowly. The mass of reeds before me was supposed to be a road, with ‘solid enough’ ground. Gritting my teeth, I slowly began to walk along it.

The Nädindese hunters soon joined me, armoured just as I was with long, vicious-looking weapons tailored to kill the most enormous of predators lurking in the swampland. They filed into the blind, which was an enormous tree indistinguishable from any other. As I moved to follow, however, a flash of movement caught my eye. I turned and narrowed my eyes, half-considering attacking with the harpoon I’d been given. I saw a solitary figure watching me by one of the trees. It was not an animal, and their clothing was entirely different from that of a Nädindese. Instinctually, I attacked them.

They immediately fled. I was quick to follow, desperately trying not to slip, but the harpoon was weighing me down. Snarling, I dropped it, taking off across the wet forest floor with increased speed. I quickly gained on the mysterious figure, and within seconds I dragged the person down, slamming them onto their belly near the river. Twisting both arms behind them, I also kneeled, pressing my full weight against their back to prevent escape. Sorely missing my broadsword, I shouted at the stranger beneath me.

“Identify yourself! Name and rank! Identify yourself now!”

Words;; 850
Muse;; Great!
Thoughts;; I'm pretty happy with this one. =)

[ladymoth]

► Spellweavers rely on three things, a natural talent at magic, a broad vocabulary, and most importantly, the thing that sets a master spellweaver apart from an amateur; the ability to wrench a word away from its formulaic usages and shape it unto the tool you need; in other words, they need to be good at poetry. Poets, as we all know, are not normal people. Poets are the sort of people who follow groups of heavily armed elves into the swamp out of pure curiosity. Oren didn’t know if he was spying on the good guys or the bad guys, nor did he much care about the outcome because, let’s face it, you can’t fight war; bless the riders for trying.

Oren followed in the tree tops mostly, he was young and lithe, and had an affinity for climbing that never left him even after he grew up. He knew to stand only the living branches, and not the older ones that would creak under his weight. Every so often a tree would be to covered in moss for even an elf to balance on and then he would have to risk slinking around on the ground, where the debris of the trees above made the ground a mine field of twigs leaves, and other such things that one cannot stand on without making a considerable racket. This was where he was spotted. Oren didn’t know why he ran, it was probably the harpoon that scared him enough to lose all sense. For a moment it seemed as if he was going to get away, he started to think of a good spell to cast to lose his attacker for good when the assailant hit his back like a ton of bricks and he went down on the side of the river. Papers flew everywhere, his latest spells and notes!

“Identify yourself! Name and rank! Identify yourself now!” She was a woman, and a scary one at that. Oren’s arms ached being twisted around like this, but the fact that there was nothing pointed at his back told him the harpoon was gone. If she wasn’t going to stab him then his fear turned to anger; half of his notes were floating down the river because of her. “My name is the color of the sky when it isn’t it’s self, and can’t be seen except by your ears, I trade the words you long to speak!” Oren growled though his gritted pointed teeth. It was said in the ancient language, it wasn’t a lie. It was a riddle, because he wasn’t about to divulge anything to a potential threat. “Let me go now and I won’t tell anyone about whatever it is that’s going on out here.” He added, he assumed it would suffice as a bond.

[silk]

Why did it always have to be the swamp? It stank. It stank in more words than he could ever muster the eloquence to explain. It tickled and taunted his nose with decay and life mixed into such a soup that one could hardly them apart. The young elven man found his nose flaring and his lip curling instinctively. There were a thousand tales in that overwhelming scent and deciphering them was like teaching a human to slow down, so more or less impossible. Enion ran a hand through sweat damp hair and shook his head with the careless grace that seemed so prevalent in his kind.

It stank. And it was hot. He shifted uncomfortably on top of his mount, who turned her silvery head to look at him with an expression that could only be interpreted as disdain. Enion rolled his shoulders in a shrug, the wordless exchange saying more between them than most conversations the elf had with any others. The mare's ears swiveled around and she snorted as something in the distance caught her attention. Enion's icy blue gaze followed hers, long years together had proven that time and again she could pick up things even faster than he.

For a long while they were as still as any statues, albeit odd ones, with her pale hide stained with mire up to mid thigh and he covered in armor that seemed nearly liquid. When he did shift, there was no sound and it seemed to hinder him not at all. Close inspection revealed the armor to have interlocking plates, much like snake skin, underneath was a simple lamarae tunic of dark green. The mare's ears swiveled, back and around again as a large crash and shout fell through the sounds of the swamp.

The longsword slid from the hilt across the elf's back with a barely audible hiss and his knees locked against the mare's sides. The two moved almost as one in the direction of the shout. This was not a place to be caught alone nor unarmed. He kept the sword across his lap as he approached, meaning clear in the face of the glinting steel. But he was not about to charge in like a human, no he had learned the hard way about that sort of approach.

At a safe distance the pair stopped, the mare deliberately making enough noise to be heard as she picked her way through the mire. One elegant eyebrow arched over an eye as he spied the pair. Well now, this was... interesting. His hands rested lightly on the broadsword but he made no other move. After all, he'd learned the hard way not to move when a woman decides to tackle you. Perhaps this was an encounter a stranger would not be welcome in at all. Though, if the look on the changed one's face was any indication, this was not a romantic encounter.

Of course, it was in the middle of a swamp and they both were shouting... But Enion, in his vast stores of young wisdom was sure he had seen much stranger things in the world. Besides... it wouldn't have been the first time a woman had brandished a woman at him, perhaps this other was just as unfortunate. He coughed lightly, in case the mare's movements had not brought their attention. After all, discretion was never one of his strong suits.

[Emma]

The fool beneath me struggled profusely for quite some time, leading me to lose my temper and drive my boot into his back, turning him over so I could take a look at his face. When I did, however, I leapt backwards with a snarl. I saw scaly skin and pointed teeth, and momentarily thought I’d flung myself onto some vaguely human swamp beast. It was also very small for an elf at about five and a half feet, and was so scrawny that I thought for sure that this was some sort of lizard. I backed away from it, and jumped when my harpoon slid right beside my feet. Ah, so the hunters had followed me. Good. I picked it up, preparing to skewer the animal when it suddenly spoke.

“My name is the color of the sky when it isn’t it’s self, and can’t be seen except by your ears, I trade the words you long to speak! Let me go now and I won’t tell anyone about whatever it is that’s going on out here.”

I froze, the mud-stained weapon grasped firmly in my armoured hand. For several moments, I gazed at the thing in confusion until I realized. Many elves were fond of altering their appearances, and some even chose to appear as hybrids of elves and an animal of their choosing. So it was an elf- just one with odd taste. Then I became furious again. Disguised as a swamp creature, he could easily be a spy working for Aundae. I knew he wasn’t Nädindese- his clothing was western-styled, and he’d been holding papers that he’d dropped into the river. Swinging my weapon, I prepared to lance him right then and there when I was startled by a noise in the brush.

I flicked my head in the direction of the sound, not turning my back on the swamp elf. The Nädindese hunters moved faster than me, and soon armoured figures appeared among the trees, surrounding myself, the swamp elf, and the figure on horseback that had just appeared. It was an elf, a normal one this time, with a mare whose silver coat was now brown and green from filth. The elf was male and not particularly young, though not old either, and was built like a whipcord. He had no visible weapons, but I refused to take any chances. The Nädindese waited for my command, but I could handle this one by myself. I booted the swamp elf in the back, a clear order for him to move.

And he did move- he half-ran, half-crawled over to where the elf on horseback sat, waiting patiently. I marched after them swiftly, harpoon leaning against my right shoulder. When I neared them, I halted. Reaching up, I carefully unclasped the chinstrap of my helmet and removed it. My ice-blonde hair fell over one eye. As I did so, the dark colours of the forest and the stink of the swamp assaulted my nostrils, but I pushed past both of them, keeping my face hard. I hated revealing my face, especially to complete strangers, but I wanted both of them to understand the exact gravity of the situation. Tucking my helmet under one arm, I raised the harpoon; a signal for the hunters to be on the alert for the command to attack. Firstly, however, I gave both elves one more chance.

“Myaja Kolbjorn, Army General of the Queendom of Du Weldenvarden,” I spat. “Identify… yourselves.”

Words;; 580
Muse;; Awesome!! It's only short cause there's not much action. XD
Thoughts;; Woot! Emma likes!

[ladymoth]

► “ahdid” Oren growled baring his teeth in a tribal show of distaste. He was growing less afraid now, his magic was strong and the minds of these swamp elves were easily broken into, he had swept his consciousness thin over all of them, for a moment, just to get a feel of who he was up against. The female; she was something else, her mind was as impenetrable as any rider he knew. He pulled his mind back quickly before he was taken advantage of and let his eyes fall on his papers; they were getting wet. “Oren Taran, I got no business here, just pure curiosity. My business lies back in Nädindel where I sell my spells.”


Oren narrowed his eyes and smiled “You’ve got some serious business out here though, don’t you?” winked one of his mad draconic eyes “searching for Aundae.” He had reached into the mind of an elf, though now it was trying to close on him; and he was surprised to find that he was quite capable at blocking him out; he must have underestimated him before; which made Oren think the swamp elves were stupid all over again. Oren pat the flank of Enion’s mare in an air of finality and turned on his heal “Good evening” he called starting to walk off. As expected he wasn’t allowed to go two steps before being forced off of his feet again by one of the swamp elves.


Oren wasn’t very good at fighting, not physical fighting anyway. He may have been agile but he lost his head when he saw someone swinging at him with a fist; his mind would go blank. Long story short Oren fell on his back again, an angry red mark on his cheek where the elf had punched him. Oren swore in the common tongue and then, with a sudden advancement in dictation cast a spell in the ancient language “Let these roots come up to assimilate you” he spat, a draining spell indeed; but Oren didn’t seem to flinch. The roots of the tree next to the elf rose up out of the mud and wrapped around the elves legs. The elf himself called out in panic as his legs began to stiffen. In a second he was a gnarled wooden statue of fleshy new roots.

“God I hate being punched” Oren groaned getting to his feet and leaning against the elf as if it was any other tree in the swamp. He rubbed his jaw and turned to look at the female elf, who was obviously their leader. “If I can do that without breaking a sweat, I suggest you consider what I could do to you and your men if I really tried. I want free passage back to Nädindel for me n’ my...” he looked up at Enion “friend. Agree in the next ten seconds and the elf might even get better.” he finished.

[silk]

There were days that were full of an uninteresting lull, they passed by much like the lazy water in the godforsaken swap Enion still happened to be trapped in. This however, was not at all one of those days. As the woman stood up and the elf she had tackled scampered in his direction, Enion's hand tightened reflexively on the hilt of his sword. Besides the overwhelming stink, the scent of violence hung heavy in the air and he really wanted little to do with it. As far as he was concerned the war had been more than enough blood to sate his appetite for a lifetime.

Well, at least today had interesting going for it, the smell certainly wasn't getting any better. The mare pinned her ears back as the woman strode past, just shy of taking a nip at her retreating back. Once again, the elf's hand fell to her shoulder and once again, the mare visibly rolled her eyes back at him. She pawed at the ground for a moment and Enion let his gaze wander between the two and then around the area, sensing more than knowing for sure the existence of the other hunters.

Of course it was in that half distracted moment that one of the hunters chose to appear and somehow... get himself turned into an intersting new tree. Enion's eyes widened a fraction a the display the strange... almost reptilian like elf put on. Didn't even seem fazed, Enion found himself resisting the urge to snort much as his mare had. The only element he got along with was metal. Metal was simple, as was fire. This though... He made a mental note never to punch the changed one.

As the other leaned on the new... tree, Enion let him speak, patting the mare's shoulder absently. If there was one... there were more, and he really didn't like the idea of being surrounded. His wintry eyes slid around the area, marking each of the other elves one by one as well as he could. His gaze snapped back at the small speech and the other eyebrow arched this time. Friend? Who it the world was this strange spell weaver.

Enion twisted his hand against his chest in the traditional fashion and half bowed as well he could on the mare's back, leaving his longsword to lie in his lap. When he spoke it was a voice that was obviously rarely used and despite its smooth baritone there was a layer of gravel to his words.
"Enion Tysanhir. Ma'am. Captain for Aruthion Squad, Infantry, Third Devision." He paused for a moment then, as if he was taking his time to think things over.

"Well I was. I resigned my post, pardon Ma'am." His gaze slid back to the lizard like elf and his announcement about letting them pass in exchange for the now... tree elf. Of this he said nothing, but the way his expression flickered and the lines around his mouth tightened said all that he needed too. As far as Enion was concerned, too much talk was a waste of good breath. And he would rather continue breathing right about now.

[Emma]

“Oren Taran, I got no business here, just pure curiosity. My business lies back in Nädindel where I sell my spells.”
My gaze flickered to the elf on horseback. “Enion Tysanhir, Ma’am. Captain for Aruthion Squad, Infantry, Third Division.” There was a long silence, during which I raised a thin eyebrow. “Well, I was. I resigned my post, pardon, Ma’am.”

I sucked in a breath, looking from one to the other. A general, a sorcerer, and an ex-soldier in a swamp. Were my pathetic excuse for a brother Kieran here, he’d have made a ‘walking into a bar’ joke. Truly, it was odd that we had all encountered each other by chance. My mother might have even called it fate. Curling my lip, I stared at the two men calculatingly. I knew of the Aruthion Squad, though I did not know this Enion Tysanhir, and Oren Taran could easily be a made-up name. Tysanhir’s story, at least, seemed to have some merit- he sat tall on his horse, and did not speak unless spoken to, much like one of my soldiers would. He only looked at Taran when he began to speak.

“You’ve got some serious business out here though, don’t you? Searching for Aundae.” The misshapen elf winked and grinned, baring his fangs. “Good evening.”

He turned on his heel and set off, apparently expecting me to let him go right then and there. Without a word, I pointed the harpoon at the little toad. One elf moved, almost imperceptibly, and swung a fist at the creature, knocking him off his feet with one hit. I hadn’t ordered him to be killed. I heard Taran grumble in the common tongue. As my knowledge of it was very little, I only understood a few words, but it was easy enough to guess what he was saying. Almost immediately afterwards, however, he muttered several words of power that made the roots of the nearest tree suddenly burst forth from the ground. Crawling with maggots and other disgusting insects, the elf was wrapped within them and held in a deathly grip. He cried out for help.

Within moments, the five other elves revealed themselves, pointing arrows at Taran while calling out in worry and reassurance to their trapped comrade. I myself leaped towards the roots, watching the elf as he struggled and began to die. The Nädindese were a primitive and savage tribe, but they were still a powerful people that loved this nation. When one of them died, it was like a death in the family- no matter that it was an enormous, extended family. I turned on Taran with a snarl. I had always despised magic and those who used it. It was for the weak and cowardly; those who would have been better off discarded at birth. I stepped threateningly toward the reptile.

“If I can do that without breaking a sweat, I suggest you consider what I could do to you and your men if I really tried. I want free passage back to Nädindel for me n’ my... friend. Agree in the next ten seconds and the elf might even get better.”

I paused, suddenly uncertain, and I could see the five elves felt the same. I could order the others to kill Taran right then and there, but their fellow would still be trapped, and probably die. An elf’s life was not worth this mere animal’s, despite how much I wanted him dead. And I was also confused- why did Taran want safe passage for Tysanhir, as well? From the stare Tysanhir gave the other elf, they obviously didn’t know each other. If Taran was just as eager to destroy a life as he was to help one, then he was either insane or playing with me- and I didn’t know which possibility made me angrier. However, one thing was for certain- I would not let the Nädindese die.

“Release him, then,” I said coldly, lowering the harpoon. The five other hunters lowered their weapons in perfect unison. “Endanger no one else and you and your friend will not come to harm. However…” I leaned in close. “I’ll have you know, you monstrous toad, that locating Dhaunayne Aundae is of the utmost importance to Queen Dellanir. Intervene in such an official matter and I’ll happily lop off your head for obstruction of justice. And you…” I looked up at the elf on horseback. “Enion Tysanhir of Aruthion Squad, Third Division. What is your business in Nädindel?”

Words;; 750
Muse;; Quite a bit of it!
Thoughts;; This thread looks like it'll be much fun. =)

[ladymoth]

► Oren let out a loud “ugh-” as if he had been punched in the face again, he looked crest fallen. He obviously expected the female to put up more of a fight, wanted it as a matter of fact. He had been aggressive, illogical, and asked for far too much; she was just as much an idiot as the others. He sniffed self-pityingly and looked at the rooted elf “be as you were a moment before” he ordered, and the roots were ripped apart by unseen claws. As soon as the face of the elf was visible he gasped for air which, Oren thought, he didn’t need to do. The Elf pushed the rest of the meaty watery root off of himself and fell against the tree behind him. The other elves grabbed him and pulled him in with the rest of them, trying to comfort him. Oren recognized that this would not be a town he would soon be invited back too.

“Monstrous toad indeed” Oren snapped at her running forward and scrambling to pick up his papers; he didn’t like being so close to the female, even if she was an idiot, she had a harpoon. “I am meant to be like a dragon, are you blind?” The Female had hit a sore spot, if he could just figure out the wings and the tale; no one would call him a toad or a lizard again! “If you want to see a monstrous toad I con conjure one up for you” he offered wryly, gesturing towards the river with his free hand. He stuffed his papers back into his bag “but I doubt your men will be able to handle it.” He walked back to Enion, he wasn’t leaving; it was too much fun here.

This Enion, as he was called, was a military man, there was some inspiration to be found there, he wondered why Enion didn’t have his post any longer, and he was intrigued. He looked up at Enion, the elves hands were rough, a smith! He could sell his spells to smiths; if he still had the right ones. He sighed thinking about the ones that were floating down the river; some lucky idiot was going to fish them out and, if they were still legible (god forbid) steal his secrets! He tried to quiet his anxieties and listen to what Enion’s reply was, since it might give some clue as to why he was retired as a soldier.

[silk]

The strangeness of the whole situation was not lost on the former Captain, in fact had there been less weapons and snarls all around, he might had found it amusing in an odd sort of way. Of course as it was now, things hardly stood to be amusing. As was his usual wont, for a long time Enion simply watched the exchange. He wasn't quite sure which one of the two was stranger, she certainly had not chosen to shift her appearance, but skin was only skin deep.

He found himself resisting the urge to twitch at the General's command, old habits did indeed die hard. And had things ended up otherwise... He might have found himself very quickly on one side of this matter. But then, had he not resigned... He likely would not have been here at all, so perhaps that was a moot thought entirely.

Once again, Enion found himself studying the other elves with the General, not normal recruits by any long shot. She spoke once again and his grip twisted around the pommel of his longsword. Endanger no one else? That was a rather amusing thought considering when he had waltzed in on this, she was the one on top. But it seemed the stories were rather true, all millitary men gossiped, but this General Kolbjorn did indeed seem the time of woman who always came out on top.

He coughed gently, pushing that train of thought far aside, that was a rather uncomfortable mental image. She continued to speak and his mind snapped back to attention. Oh how lovely, they thought him some newly swaddled babe. Not let him come to harm indeed, apparently his previous rank said nothing at all to them. His mind firmed on a previous note, they were perhaps both a tad loose in their thoughts.

The breast beating between these two was almost more than he could stand, luckily for them, Enion was patient. Or at least, it was lucky for them as far as he saw it. A dragon? He was supposed to be a dragon? Enion's eyebrows arched in unison this time. Well, he could see it, it took some liberal thinking, but he could see it. Of course of all the creatures he could have emulated that one was likely the hardest, this too told Enion more information about the strange spell caster.

Finally they seemed to have grown interested in him again and were asking more questions. He sighed, lifting one hand from his sword to run it through limp sandy hair once more. Why couldn't they continue to enjoy each others' company instead of looking at him. Of course, he did wander into the whole thing, so he supposed he rather deserved it.

"Business Ma'am is my business. I am a smith." The last part he said almost with regret, anytime military personal found out his trade, he was almost always accosted for work. Not that he didn't love the armor he crafted, the suit he currently wore was his own, but often the requirements the military made... were simple.

They left nothing in the beauty of the metal and that in and of it self was enough for Enion to avoid such work as best he could. Of course, lying to a General was not exactly and option either. Of all the places he could have stuck his neck into, this was not the best. Maybe they would simply go back to poking at each other again, he fervently hoped that was not a futile thought.

[Emma]

I watched the roots magically rip apart, followed in unison by the hissing of the Nädindese. This elf was, on top of everything else, essentially a freak in his disrespect for nature. However, I was more concerned by the body tumbling out of the tree. Only an elf could pull off the man’s awkward, though nonetheless stable landing, before he collapsed onto his knees. Immediately, he was accosted by his fellows, who wasted no time in getting him out of harm’s way. Allowing myself a soft sigh of relief, I briefly held down my fury at the lizard elf and turned back to the one on horseback to hear his reply.

“Business, ma’am, is my business,” he said. Short and to the point, as I liked it. “I am a smith.”

This made me raise my eyebrows. I craned my head slightly, and for the first time noticed the longsword in Tysanhir’s lap. I wasn’t surprised. Only a fool would meander about the swamps of Nädindel unarmed. However, I noted that despite his slim, wiry appearance, his hands were rough and scarred. So, he wasn’t lying about being a smith. That still didn’t explain his presence, however. Nädindel was a tribal city, its weapons whetted from tooth and bone. They didn’t have blacksmiths, or any desire for them. Even the finest elven steel quickly decayed in the heat and mire of the marshes. However, I doubted his intentions were to help Aundae. He would have tried something if so.

“Monstrous toad, indeed,” came Taran’s snarls. “I am meant to be, like, a dragon, are you blind?”
“A dragon?” I couldn’t help but laugh. “You would compare to yourself to one of those winged monstrosities? Then you are worse than a toad. You are lower than a toad. I have no use for a coward who chooses to ally themselves with the bastard Riders.” Stabbing my harpoon into the ground, I put on my helmet. “Now begone, fool. I will not play your games.” I shut the clasp. “This area is under strict surveillance, and I will not tolerate any more interference. Both of you, follow Isi. She will escort you to Nädindel.”

I had had more than enough of the hideous dragon-elf. However, I did not possess the manpower nor the authority to arrest him- I doubted he was a resident of Du Weldenvarden. If Ilirea had complete psychopaths like him running amok, it was no wonder they hadn’t bothered to aid their own brethren during the Cleansing of the Maleficent. For now, however, I just wanted him gone. I watched Isi, a female Nädindese, emerge from the treetops and land elegantly on the ground, her mostly-bare skin covered by tattoos that seemed to have lives of their own in the strange light. Wordlessly, she beckoned to the east, giving Taran an icy glare.

I was distracted by a vicious growl. My harpoon was instantaneously in my hand, and I rounded on the river, shifting into a second-nature defensive stance. The water bubbled as something submerged itself within its depths, unseen due to the murk. The Nädindese all appeared, more than prepared to deal with the threat. For well over a minute, nothing emerged from the water, but I knew better than to approach. I had heard of semi-intelligent animals of the bogs that knew how to lure their prey into a false sense of security. When nothing attacked, it was easy to assume that the thing was gone. One of the Nädindese decided to make sure by flinging a heavy rock into the water.

Twenty feet long, with no limbs, eyes, or even colouring of any sort, some sort of wide-jawed serpent lunged from the river. I moved backward, firing the harpoon. It buried itself in the enormous snake’s flank, and it squealed in pain and rage. It rapidly submerged itself in the water, very nearly taking me with it if I didn’t snap the string. It disappeared only momentarily, however, before leaping back onto land, snapping its massive fanged jaws viciously. I got an unpleasant view of its organs- its skin was entirely see-through- before it pulled back again for another assault.

I swore, reloading my harpoon. Clearly, locating Aundae would be an even more difficult task than I’d presumed.

Words;; 712
Muse;; Good, but I'm tired.
Thoughts;; Not bad. =3

[ladymoth]

(A heavily tattooed Nädindelian warrior woman? Emz you suck, she should be a full-fledged character not just a fleeting idea!)

► Toad! Riders! Monstrosities! Bastard! Oren turned bright red and rolled up his sleeves getting ready to concur up some problem or another for Myaja to fight. Before he could hit her with whatever it was he had not yet planned something else came from the murk, blind and worm like, though much larger and much more frightening. “This is not my doing!” Oren shouted as he dove out of the way of the beast’s monstrous form as its neck slapped the ground. He jumped behind the tattooed elf, ever the cowardly none-fighter that he was.

He breathed a sigh of relief as it slunk down into the water again then started as it came back; ducking behind the Tattooed elf’s side, though he was small Isi was no real cover for him. He was regaining his mind now; the animal was attacking the Myaja with a vengeance, no doubt angry about the harpoon in its side. Mindful of the other elves who might take advantage of him as he did so, Oren cautiously reached out and touched the thing’s consciousness; to find another wall. He was not unfamiliar with animals such as this, beasts that hunt with intelligence. He broke through the beast’s barriers as easily as he would one of the elves, now he saw its mind; an odd thing it was.

The beast thought in ideas, in touch, and hearing, and in scent, and Oren became blind himself. He could not determine whether the beast was attacking because the elves tarried on its territory, or whether it was hungry, or if another force had corrupted its mind. “Be still you horrifying thing, that elf is far beyond you, continue this onslaught and she’ll spill your insides!” Oren expressed these thoughts to the creature, using the ancient language for, though he didn’t like her, he could see that Myaja was not to be trifled with.

“Count your losses, You’re not-” Oren was pushed out of the beasts mind, he had quite underestimated it. He stumbled backwards against a tree rubbing his head vigorously because it had pushed back with such force that a fierce head ache had gripped him. “Pah! Cut its throat!” Oren shouted fiercely, quite angry with the thing for bringing on what was turning into a banging migraine. It was unlike Oren to give up on any creature, great or small, but his double vision was making him spiteful.

[silk]

Sometimes an uninteresting day was just what one should seek. Uninteresting it may be, but it led to a remarkably longer lifespan. But as the two elves shot insults back and forth, Enion rather decided that living a long life was not that fantastic of an idea anyway. Certainly, it was not worth anything if it was simply uninteresting. After all, one could say they lived through five hundred years but how many had actually lived? It was a question Enion had been wrestling with ever since he had resigned his post. In part, his mother had needed him at home, but also in part he had been fleeing the war. Fleeing the death and destruction and the loss of his father.

Of course, his armor may still remain after he had passed, but it would be an archaic thing. A piece of art, of one man's vision, but what else could they say about the man? That he fled the war for seclusion? The edges of Enion's mouth twisted and firmed. No, that was not something he cared to be. He was not uninteresting, he could not choose to spend his years in comfortable Ellesmera. Enion wanted to use his armor, he wanted his armor to find itself in history. He wanted more.

The comments flew back and forth, as barbed as any arrows Enion had ever seen. He remained where he sat on the mare who now looked between the others with the same baleful expression she had gifted Enion with before. His hands though, never really relaxed their grip on his formidable longsword. Lying there, it could remind one of a bird of prey perched on it's master's arm. The cross guard flared out like the wings of a falcon, arching back in a dive while the pommel feathered out like the bird's spread tail. The whole of blade shimmered and one could almost see the patterns of long feathers in its steely length. But despite the care and craftsmanship in the weapon, it, like the man was wholly unadorned.

He was studying the female that was to be their guide... when the mare below him shifted back several steps. Enion let his sword slide over his lap, gripping it with only one hand now and his eyes darted about. He knew the mare well enough to know that she often saw far more than he did. But when the snake/worm came rushing out of the swamp it still caused him to start. With a grunt of approval he noted the speed of the General's attack and the mare dashed forward, ears laid back, flat against her head.

The thing disappeared below the water, than in a moment was back up again, rearing high over the General. The dragon-elf moved and the seconds it took him to communicate with the thing... or try to at least, baffled the smith. He had no such talents in the area, though by the previous display the dragon-elf had put on, he had more talent than his mind could apparently handle.

The mare below him leaped forwards, sure of foot as no other horse but an elven steed could be in such a swamp. The thing seemed to be making to attack Myaja again as she reloaded the harpoon and Enion nearly swore, then the spell caster's shout hit his ears and the smith grinned. Interesting this day was indeed. He lifted his sword in a broad arc, legs tight around the mare's middle as she hurled forwards. Cut its throat indeed! He meant to take its head.

[Emma]

The six- but upon a recount, I remembered- five Nädindese were far more familiar with the creature than I. Repeatedly shouting a word that sounded like ‘white abyss’, they filed out along the river with harpoons in hand. When the creature made its third appearance, they fired as one, piercing the thing’s hide and clenching it. It shrieked in pain, but was unable to submerge itself again. It was dragged out of the river with surprising ease, and then tossed on its side. It thrashed and screamed and attempted to bite anyone that came near. Before I could move, the elf smith’s horse came barrelling towards the serpent, and there was a resounding thwack. The animal was immediately silent. When I looked, it had a gaping, steaming wound beneath its jaw.

After a few moments, however, it began to wiggle again. I came closer, but it didn’t attack. It simply twitched randomly, not appearing to have any control of itself. Its soulless black eyes were wide open. At first I was confused, but then I remembered that snakes continued to move after death when their nervous system had been ruptured. I watched the Nädindese all strain to push the thing over and back into the river. I was surprised that they didn’t have at least some use for it. It hit the water with a splash, and floated off on the current. With a sigh, I was about to turn away when I caught a flash of movement at the corner of my eye. The snake was coming back. Hissing, I rounded on it, ready to shoot, but none of the Nädindese seemed particularly worried.

“Of all the creatures here, rats are sometimes the worst,” said Kausi, their leader. I recognized him by his raspy voice- his throat had been badly scarred by an animal. To my surprise, I saw that the snake was in fact being paddled upriver by several hundred vermin, who were already eating the thing from the inside out. Kausi watched them for a moment before turning to me. “It’s too dangerous to go back to Nädindel tonight, even for Isi.”
“That monster went down with hardly a fight, Kausi.”
He shrugged. “The sun is still setting. That was not the worst thing you can find out here. Please, General.”
With an irritated sigh, I waved a dismissive hand. “Fine. Tell the others.”

I turned away and leaned the harpoon against my shoulder, walking back to the blind. The elf that had been injured was being helped along by a woman towards it. I slowed to a halt when I reached them, watching the two of them enter what looked like nothing but a patch of spiky mud-soaked brambles. I was stained with so much filth that it didn’t matter. I pushed my way through the clinging foliage, and was surprised to find that I immediately ended up within an enormous tree. It was very high and wide, probably formed that way to fit the strange lizard beasts that the Nädindese used as mounts. It would easily fit the smith’s horse. I walked towards what appeared to be a private dressing room. Shutting the door behind me, I began to remove my armour.

As I took off the helmet and unbuckled the gauntlets and pauldrons encasing my arms, I wondered why I was sharing this abode with an army dropout and an incompetent magician. Dellanir would have probably ordered arrows fired into their path until they either died or got very far away from her. I was wont to let the mad sorcerer wander around the Nädindese, however- although if he ever stepped foot in their city after nearly killing one of their own, they’d rip him to shreds. It was better, I decided, that I would be able to keep an eye on them, and find out what they were doing so far from civilization. However, my first task was locating Dhaunayne Aundae. Removing my cuirass and slipping out of the padded greaves, I looked down at myself with a sigh.

Clothed only in dark green lamarae, I felt terribly naked without my steel armour. I hadn’t brought it or my sword, obviously, as they were only dead weight in a swamp. However, I never functioned without armour except for sleeping and bathing. Sitting among strangers in mere cloth was nerve-wracking for me. And when I was nervous, I was irritable. Kicking off my boots and peering at the snow-white pallor of my bare hands and feet, I took a moment to school my face and regain my composure before picking up my filth-strewn armour and leaving the private room. The Nädindese, all in cloth of dark green or brown, were assuming various duties. One took my armour for cleaning. I made my way towards a table and sat down, passing a hand over my bare face.

“Come here, Kausi,” I snapped. “I need to discuss Aundae with you.”

Words;; 824
Muse;; Not... great.
Thoughts;; Totally rushed! Blah!

[ladymoth]

► The migraine subsided after the thing died, Oren realized that meant the animal had still been attacking his mind without him even noticing, a disconcerting concept. Oren turned and looked at Enion, he never understood how anyone could just run up and attack anything, period. “Your horse sends you into danger so willingly, are you sure she isn’t a dragon” he smirked and rubbed his temple. “Come on Smith, you heard what the natives said.” Oren walked behind Myaja into the hollow tree. As soon as he was inside he grabbed onto a knot in the wood and climbed upwards as if he had been familiar with the walls for years. At one point when he was climbing it seemed as if he was hanging on to nothing at all, and merely staying onto the wall because it was what he wanted. That might have been the case, knowing Oren’s magical nature. Oren settled down in a recess in the wall that might have been an owl’s nest at one point but was at this time occupied by just Oren, and he only took up half. Oren put his bag down next to him and looked down at Mayja, watching her undress.

He had a way of looking at you so that you knew he was watching you even if you had your back turned. In fact a blind man would know that Oren had his eyes on him, even if the blind man had no way of even conceiving what watching was. He seemed to be examining every inch of her, as if her body held the secret of whom she really was and where she had been. He did seem at all moved when she uncovered her feminine form; the part of Oren that cared about the female form had died a long time ago. He merely noted her nakedness as she saw it. He knew that she felt exposed; he thought she seemed exposed as well.

Now she was going to call in the head Nädindelian and she was going to let everyone know that she was taking charge of the situation, so that they would not think any less of her for being unarmed and undressed. She did as he assumed, calling in the one called Kausi. “You’re not going to catch her tonight; the Nädindelians said that it was unsafe in the swamp.” He reminded her “I think they’d know a little better than you” he added. Oren looked away from her and looked around the room. “But maybe-” he started to speak in the ancient language “Lethrblaka, eka weohnata néiat haina ono. Blaka eom let lam.” A second later a small black bat swooped down from the rafters and alighted in his hand, it’s small claws wrapping around his finger tips “maybe I could ask the animals if they’ve seen her” he offered, stroking the bat as if it was a kitten or some other irresistibly cute beast. He had resigned himself to helping them, after all he had seen a glimpse of the nature of Aundae from one of the elves minds, she was not the sort of person that he would care to have alive, war or none.

[silk]

The bright blade bit deep into the creature's throat, and the contact nearly tore him off the mare's back. Despite her speed and agility, gore spattered over his armor and her silvery coat. Her charge carried them past the snake thing and she wheeled as if on a dime to face the attacker once more. As it shuddered and collapsed, Enion looked fair disappointed at the result. He hadn't taken its head, ah well, poetics aside at least the job was done without any casualties other than the beast. He dipped his head slightly to the General then wiped the gore of his blade off on what part of his thigh was not covered by armor.

All the blood... all the grime, it brought back memories so intense he could almost smell the blood of his fallen comrades and hear their quiet whimpers as the genius of the human machines slaughtered them. Enion shook his head once, limp sandy hair flopping over. No, no time for that. His icy gaze flicked back to the Nadinese and he slipped his sword back into the sheath across his back. They pushed the giant snake like thing into the water, but when it came back into view his hand twitched up to his sword's hilt once again. Rats... Well there was one creature he would gladly never share his mind with.

To the conversation between the General and her guards, he paid little attention, instead letting his eyes wander over the area once more. Flithy swamp, would that it stunk a mite less, he'd be much more inclined to linger here. But then... there was also the copious amounts of mud. His gaze slid downwards over the mare. Rhenhon was taking all this much more stoically than he was and at least she was paying attention, when the party moved off, the mare followed.

As they neared the entrance of the blind, the mare stopped and Enion slid off her back without so much as a whisper as the rest slid inside. He took one last look around and took a deep breath. Well, he'd thrown his lot in with them now, their certainly wasn't going to be anyplace safer tonight. And he was fairly sure by the look Rhenhon was giving him that she would sure as rain, leave him here if he was stupid enough to venture out into the swamp on his own at night.

Of course, as most elven steeds went, she wore no tack, so in reality, she could take off any time she felt like it. Enion was rather of the opinion that she must enjoy his company, of course, she was the only female he could think of that did. Well perhaps aside from his mother.... But then she was far too busy with 'work' to spend much time with a grown son. And when she did find time... things were.... awkward at best, they had so little in common. He would try to talk about poetry... She would avoid talking about intrigue... He would try to talk about his work... She would try to avoid talking about intrigue. It was always the same between them, he simply wasn't made of the same stuff as his parents.

Into the gloom... from the gloom. He followed the others, pushing aside the cover so that the mare could duck her head and follow him inside. The feeling of relief that floated between them at the sight of the huge tree was almost palpable and Enion found himself laying a hand on her shoulder unconsciously as they strode forward behind the rest of the party.

As the General ducked into a side room, Enion decided that it would be wise to remain in the main hallway here. The distinct sound of armor being discarded confirmed his fears and his nose twitched. He wanted to be clean as much as anyone, but he was not about to shed clothing with a female about. Especially when that female was General Myaja Kolbjorn. So, he stayed in the hallway, with Rhenhon looking at him as if he had two heads.
"Easy my dear, we'll get you clean first. You took the brunt of the slime I fear." She swiveled her ears and snorted in a very unladylike manner and Enion found himself rolling back his shoulders as he relaxed slightly. If she could relax, then he was sure that there was nothing her that could eat him at the exact moment.


The General came back out and in nothing but simple lamare, Enion coughed and glanced downwards out of long habit. Not that most around the Capital wore anything else, but well... It was distracting sometimes. She of course, strode past him and the dragon-elf with what was apparently her typical brashness. After another moment, Enion fell in behind them, this time actually listening.
"Not a bad idea that. The swamps are more alive than any other area. You've got spies in the thousands."

[Emma]

As I sat myself down on the uncomfortable wooden chair, my body screamed with the aches from today’s efforts. I had been taught to move with speed and agility even in my scale armour, but never to trudge through mud that sucked desperately at arms and legs and to avoid strange monsters that were more than capable of camouflaging amid the alien foliage of Nädindel. I had worked muscles today that I normally never did, and now they complained and cried out for sleep. But I could always relax when I got home, I had already decided. First I had to deal with Aundae, and get these fools off my back. Resting my chin in my hands, I watched Tysanhir and Taran move around the blind. This was a search-and-destroy mission, not a public festival. But despite my irritation, I felt it was wrong to leave them outside and alone, exposed to the elements.

“You’re not going to catch her tonight; the Nädindelians said that it was unsafe in the swamp,” blathered Taran in a grammatically nonsensical babble, making me regret keeping him indoors. “I think they’d know a little better than you. But maybe…” My hair fell over my eyes as I turned around viciously, ready to run him through, but he had turned away, holding his hand up in the air and calling down a bat. “Maybe I could ask the animals if they’ve seen her.”
“Not a bad idea, that,” joined in Tysanhir. “The swamps are more alive than any other area. You’ve got spies in the thousands.”

I glanced between the both of them for a moment, and then sighed acquiescingly. Despite my complete distrust of both of them- Taran especially- I was quite clearly going to be stuck with them until Aundae was found and executed. And unless either of them did anything to hurt my subordinates, I couldn’t dispose of them. However, Taran did still require a punishment of some sort to make up for his transgressions against the Nädindese. I smirked at the thought of it, eyeing him from behind the screen of my hair. Tonight didn’t need to be miserable, after all. Taran would prove to be an amusement, and both of them could be helpful in locating Aundae. And it was for one night only. I had survived far worse in the year-long sieges of the Blue Divide than this. But somehow, this prospect terrified me more than any war ever could.

“Very well then, Taran,” I said reluctantly, rising from my seat and ignoring the protests of my aching body. “Send out your little spies to search for Aundae. However…” I raised my face and looked him square in the eye. “I cannot commune with the birds and the beasts as you do. And you did nearly eviscerate one of my men. How can I trust anything you say?” I glanced at Tysanhir next. “Or you?”
“General,” said Kausi, “my people are able to…” I raised my hand, silencing him. I wanted to hear what Taran and Tysanhir had to say first.

Character(s) Used: Myaja
Words;; 512
Muse;; Not bad!
Thoughts;; Short, but otherwise fine. ^^

[ladymoth]

► Oren leaned in close to the bat and whispered something into it's ear, then he held it up so that it could grab hold of the lip of the recess, which it did. "Ah told 'im that the bats would be rewarded for their help" Oren called down as the bat flitted off out of the open window. "he wasn't very keen on doing work for nothing" Oren added in an understanding tone. Ad Oren spoke a black cloud of bats blotted out the light from the door of the tree, shrieking into the distance.

Oren slipped out of his recess in the tree and fell cat like to the ground before straitening himself up and walking over to Myaja "you can call me Oren" he said showing all his pointed teeth. “you can trust me because I speak the ancient language at all times, and you can forgive me for having some fun with your rag tag local law enforcement because I already got punched for it, and that’s punishment enough for a frail old guy such as myself.” Oren stepped closer to Myaja taking advantage of her discomfort due to her lack of armor “and if ah wanted to attack you, those bats would have swarmed you by now instead of flying off to do YOU a favor. Face it Myaja, you’re NAKED before me, I’m the most powerful person for miles around so even if I did have ill intentions toward this party, you wouldn’t be able to defend yourselves. Be grateful I’m on your side for however long it lasts” He was half a foot away from her now, and getting ever closer, trying to make her as uncomfortable as he possibly could.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
(time only relative to bats so don’t worry about hours passing)

The bats swarmed about in the boggy swamp air clustering together then breaking apart forming search parties that passed through the trees like ghosts, unheeded by the leaves or hanging moss due to the sheer size of their numbers. From above the trees were blanketed with the little beasts as they spread themselves thin to find what the elf had described ‘a group of elves led by a female with a covered eye.’ Several hours passed and the bats search groups were so widely dispersed that there several pockets of the swamp that went unexplored altogether.

Happily Aundae was not in one of those pockets. She was found by one bat who alighted on a branch and began to sound the alarm. Soon there was another bat on the branch next to it, then another, and another. They were all staring at a group of tired and injured looking elves huddled together for protection. To the side of the group, sitting on a boulder fallen tree that was slowly pushing another tree over that it had fallen onto, was an elven woman. She was not dissimilar to Myaja, blonde haired, with a strong and hardened face. The most distinguishing difference being that Andae had an ornate white patch over her right eye, and unlike Myaja seemed unconvinced that covering herself head to toe in armor necessary, in fact she was very scantily clad- but that might have had something to do with the fact that she was also very wet and had swamp scum in her hair. All in all it looked as if she had had a very trying time trying to keep her and her motley crew alive in this swampy hell hole.