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Here's the OOC Thread to sign up and the story.
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The dark clouds hovered in the grey sky. Cool swift winds blew through the tall thick trees. It was a dreary day. The rebellion camp was deep within the Deowood Forest. The forest held many paths that almost resembled a labryth. Though, the paths changed daily, leading you where you not know of. The only way you can find anything in it if you were there before and know your way.

A cloaked figure walked through the thick green trees. Redish hair fell over her eyes and into her pale face. She stood about five feet and eight inches, seemingly short for someone of her race. Her leather boots made no sound on the lush grass. A sword was tied around her waist and a quiver full of arrows was on her back. Kanora, well only known as Kano, sauntered down the quiet paths. Very few knew her real name.

As she walked into the camp, her eyes glanced around at the many rebels. They were filled with many races, willing to give their life to bring the land back to peace. She entered her tent and took off her sword and quiver and threw it on the table. She pulled the hood off her head and her long braided hair fell to her backside. Kanora pulled out a map out form her cloak and unrolled it on the table. Her crimson eyes scanned the map, searching any other possible places.

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Koranil Duran walked through the Deowood Forest, his green cloak flapping in the strong wind. He lived in these forests for several years, so he knew every tree in the area. The Elven ranger walked through the forest every day, thinking about the world. He mostly thought about how all the wars would affect nature, but he knew that it will all be sorted out. He would probably be long dead before the wars came to an end. He just had to do all he could to make it happen sooner.

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Alain Grundel - better known by the warriors name, Kral - looked out over the dying lands beneath him. From his vantage point upon the cliff, he could see for miles.
It saddened him to see the trees dying and the water becoming blacker by the day, the Demon's curse was threatening to swallow everything.
That's why he fought them. Day after day until every single inch of his body ached with fatigue and wounds.
If he gave up, everyone gave up. Lucky for the rebellion, Kral would never give up, not until he died.
Even then...he'd fight them in hell, on their own ground.

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Smoke and ash filled the air along with the stench that comes with the slaughter of a battlefield. This once flourishing grassland outside the Deowood forest was now desolate and covered in the decay of soldiers that had done their best to defend against the might of Gregor and his legions. Amongst the battered and broken bodies there was a glow upon the ground in the shape of the uruz rune. This healing rune only glows when actively healing the sketcher and his allies. A brutally torn and charred body slowly begins to move amongst the dead and drags himself closer to the rune that he had sketched amidst the battle. Slowly recovering he regains use of his limbs and is able to make out his surroundings though his vision is blurred. His name is Leinad Kelworan and is known as a runelord a knight skilled in the use of blades and runes. He came here to take on the demon threat that assaulted his homeland. Now, all he sees is the twisted corpses of his friends and fellow countrymen. He weakly pulls himself up into a sitting position ,using the broadswords that he had managed to hold on to, soaking in the healing warmth of his uruz rune and sighs with despair at the shattered remains of the land he once knew. He pondered the fate of those other forces who had faced the same enemy, had they suffered a similar fate. Is there anyone left alive? What would he do now? Where would he go? What is the might of one against a horde of such might? He whistled into the air at a shrill pitch and swiftly a falcon enters the sky and finds its way onto the glove upon Leinad's glove. "Hello friend, I'm glad you were able to make it to sanctuary in all the madness. It appears you and I are alone."

After some time, Leinad looks to his falcon and sends him aloft. Leinad's eyes glaze over and take the shade of green as he looks through the eyes of his falcon, Sakuma. Sakuma soars over the battlefield looking for any signs of life amongst the fallen and twisted bodies finding none until it reaches a nearby cliff overlooking the once flourishing and now devestated grasslands where he spots a warrior clad in simple armour bearing two scimitars and traces of battle about his person. Leinad's eyes return to normal and he has returned to his own vision. A trickle of hope returns as Leinad has discovered that he is not the only one to have survived the onslaught of the terrorizing forces of King Gregor. With this trace of hope and his strength mostly returned he begins travelling toward the cliff in the distance, hoping that his eyes have not deceived him.

The bird - a falcon - was a welcome sight in the morning haze. It was life, it was grace and it was power.
He could feel something in this bird though. He looked closely as it came and landed before him on a dying bough. He looked in it's eyes, looking, studying...trying to find something.
And there it was!
The eyes! They changed, they seemed more human before, now they were the hawk's own. Someone was watching, but 'twas no demon. Nothing Gregor would have sent.

The falcon took off, flying down away from the cliff. Kral drew a blade and raced off after it, taking a path down, skipping gracefully over rocks as they drew closer to him. He was in a sprint now, closing in on the hawk's - and his own - destination.

But what he found was a horrifying sight, one he could barely keep his eyes upon. The bodies of men - even women - were strewn about, stewing in their own blood under the hot sun. Yards of offal torn from their carcasses like rivers. Organs lay strewn about among severed heads, hands and limbs.
It was a grisly sight, one Kral wished to abolish in his campaign. He wanted to turn away and vomit, but knew he could do no such thing.

But then, a glimpse of life...a fallen soldier moving amongst the gore, probably swimming in fetid blood.
Kral knew he had to help him, but he'd seen men die like this before.
He raised his sword and grasped the hilt of his other tightly.
"You there! Be you a demon I shall slay you with nary care nor fear. From whence you came I shall thrust you back."
His intimidating tone and piercing gaze were at work here. He didn't want to do this...but he had to.

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Taken aback by the warriors gaze, Leinad took a step back before answering the warrior.
"Then we are of the same mind, sir. I do not cower before any demon of Gregor's and you can be sure that I am not associated with the likes of those accursed creatures."

"I am, however, pleased to see another that despises the usurper as much as myself. I am of the Kelworan line and am known as Leinad and if your business is the slaying of the usurper and his minons then I shall call you friend."

With the last statement Leinad takes a bow before the warrior and in so doing breaks the ever piercing gaze the warriors eyes possessed upon him.

That was all he needed. He expelled a breath that he hadn't realized he was holding and put away his swords. His muscles relaxed and his eyes softened. He seemed warmer now.
"My name is Alain Grundel. Otherwise known as Kral. I'm the leader of the Rebellion."
Kral came closer, extending his hand for the man to take.
"If you're in need of a healer or just a full stomach, you're welcome to it bakc at camp. Let us make haste, this battlefield threatens to wrench my stomach and spill its contents."

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Leinad grasped Kral's hand firmly and bowed once more.
"It has been a long hard couple of days and a bit of food would be most welcome and I'm sure a few of these wounds could use a little attention. Lead the way and I will follow."

Along the way Leinad remarks inquisitvely, "I'm quite impressed that you've already managed to organize a rebellion, how many have you mustered for the cause so far?"

"I've managed to round up about five-hundred fighters, but I still fear it's not enough. Gregor has greater forces.
However, there are always others and I intend to find every fighting man and woman I can. If they can't fight, they will learn to fight."

It wasn't long before they approached the camp, men tended to their things while others slept.
Kral led Leinad to the healers tent. Salves and spells, that was his dealing.
The healer spoke, "A new face, hmm?"
"Aye...I want him as healed as you can get him. After all he's been through against the forces of Gregor, he deserves that and more. Arrange him a meal if you can."
"Aye, I'll do that."

Kral put a hand upon Leinad's shoulder. "I've some business to attend to, I'll return when I can."

He promptly left the tent, it pained him to leave the young warrior, but he was always busy.
He was looking for his right hand, beauty matched by ferocity.
"Kano!" Kral called out, he could never find here when he needed her.
"Damn that woman." Kral breathed to himself as he called out again, "Kano!"

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