Roleplayer Guild - Forum Roleplaying Games

She woke up at dawn, simply because the sunrise was accompanied by the squeak of turning wheels and the surly grumbles of newly awakened drivers. Not that she liked getting up early or anything, but she'd always been a light sleeper. As if to further darken her mood, a light snore reminded her of last night's disappointment - the bard would easily sleep until noon, she knew. He seemed always to know just when to wake up, and would probably sleep forever if there was no cause for him to wake. She frowned and hugged her knees. She was angry.

She would not wake the bard though. No, if she did that, it would not be long before she was no longer angry at him, and then he would go back to sleep. Worse yet, he might get angry at her. There was nothing she could do but sulk. She did not sulk long, however, before a familiar yapping reached her ears. Getting up, she crawled to the edge of the wagon and looked down. She yelped in surprise as she was met by two icy blue eyes and a cold breath. There he was, her long-time companion, skipping on his hind legs with the slow-moving wagon. His paws almost reached the roof. Staring intently at her, it growled.

She gasped before swinging her legs over the edge, dropping to the ground next to her four-legged friend. As she reached out to stroke the white fur, he dropped to all fours and spun around. Before she could react, she'd been tackled to the ground, face to face with a growl could have sent the bravest man running. She did not seem fazed, however; more than anything, she looked sad. "I'm sorry", she said to the beast, making a pause to wipe off a spot of drool that had landed on her cheek. "I forgot all about you".

The wolf-like creature huffed and stepped away, both to let her up and to sulk. She smiled, and said, "Don't be like that". She went after the animal and jumped up on his back. The addition of her weight did not make the creature so much as flinch. Still, it stubbornly closed its eyes and gave an indignant huff. She knew how it worked, though, and leant forward, whispering into its ear, "Let's find some breakfast before it gets too warm". A wise man once said, there's no arguing with the notch of a crossbow. Allegedly, a wise man's wife once said, there's no arguing with the rumble of an empty stomach. The duo had dealt with a number of crossbow notches in their lives and gotten away unscathed, but the latter saying seemed to hold true even for monstrous, wolf-like creatures with bad attitudes, as the beast and the girl soon disappeared among the rolling wagons.

__________________
If your signature is larger than your post, you're wasting space. If your signature is larger than your average post, you need brain surgery. Or a brain.

Shandon was in a great mood. They were moving again, and towards something concrete rather than just wandering. Sure he didn't know what it was ahead that was causing the smoke, but that didn't matter. The fact was they were moving somewhere.

The map hadn't been any use. After over an hour staring at it, tracing possible routes to the north east, he was none the wiser. They all led to the same place. A big empty spot on the canvas. 'At least it might provide a little excitement for Doli', Shandon mused. Short of some great army of undead, he would put up with just about any sort of distraction to keep the dwarf occupied.

The sound of trotting hooves rose up above the gentle creaking of his wagon, and a few moments later the face of Trufus, the chief of guards, appeared. He reined in to pace the wagon.

"Aah, Trufus. Impecible timing as always. I was just going to send for you."

"It would be my duty to enquire where it is were heading?"

Shandon gestured toward the rising columns of smoke, much more visible now the morning sun had risen higher into the sky.

"We're heading to get directions."

Trufus eyed the smoke skeptically. "You know that isn't chimney smoke. It's far to wide. We could be heading into some kind of battlefield!"

Shandon winced, although quickly schooled his expression back to his typical smile. "I trust your observation, Trufus, but without directions we'll have our own battlefield right here in a few days."

The grizzled fighter nodded and looked ahead again. "I would have suggested sending some scouts out.."

"That sounds like a sensible suggestion."

"I hadn't finished, Sir. I would have suggested that, but we've been seen already."

"Seen! By whom?"

"One of my men saw someone, something, break from behind a tree and start running toward the smoke as soon as we started moving. With the sun low he only saw it for a second, and didn't see any details, but it stands to reason that whoever is out there now knows we're coming."

Shandon thought for a moment. "I don't want to appear hostile, but if they are a threat then we need to be ready to defend ourselves."

Trufus nodded. "I would suggest Sir, that we shift your mercs to rear guard. Those large axes are rather intimidating, but effective in a fight. At the back they will be out of sight if it comes to diplomacy, but only a few moments away if there's trouble."

"Good thinking. I'll leave the arrangements to you."

"Yes Sir."

__________________
"The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own satanic herd."

Arlix smiled patiently when he saw that she had finished, allowing a mental note to mark the ground somehow. Even if his people really had nothing to do with Alarin's causes and purposes, it still meant a lot to the creature, and though Alarin had indirectly brought the two volatile men to his people's land, she had also tried to draw them off instead of residing in the protective wall Arlix had tried to make. He did find that quite noble of Alarin, and even if the item might have been just a sword, it still deserved recognition. For the effort if a spirit didn't exist.

"We lost nothing," he said gently to Alarin with a small smile, "Homes can be rebuilt, lives can be reshaped. Whatever is no longer with us is given back to the very earth that provides for us." He confessed grandly, for it was what they believed and allowed a small nod of deference. "Please, I invite you to enjoy our hospitality as originally intended. Do not blame yourself for the events, for it is not the first time our ignorant cousins have come with weapons placed before conscience" he soothed and swept a grand gesture out towards his people. "Change is a good thing, is it not?" He questioned with a side long smirk which, despite his fatigued appearance, seemed to brighten his whole face.

He looked about to say more, but then an adolescent girl came running into the camp. Normally, Arlix would have left the thought alone, but the fact that she might have news of Isej instantly drew his attention. "My pardon," he begged gently of Alarin. "My son is out, and there is word of a strange caravan." He confessed, for what did he honestly have to hide? Especially since Alarin would probably find out anyways.

The girl approached Arlix then, bending at the waist and heaving to catch her breath, though she still tried to speak in a rush. The way the chief tensed, one could tell he was truly anxious to hear the news, though he remained patient. Very patient. With a lot of difficulty. He placed a hand to the girl's shoulder with a murmur of "Please, catch your breath"

"No time," she managed to wheeze, looking up with bright, panicked eyes. "The boxes, they're moving. They're coming here!"

In that instant, Arlix was suddenly business. "What? Where's Isej?"

"He stayed behind. I wanted to turn back, but he told me run at all costs. That it was of the utmost importance for me to make it back and warn you. I'm sorry high chief!"

Arlix only nodded patiently, inhaling a deep breath before turning to look at Alarin. "My apologies, but it might be in your best interest to stay out of sight for now. I would offer you to stand with the front line, but you remain in no condition for a confrontation, if indeed that's what it comes down to. I regret we could not speak longer" at that, he inclined his head respectfully and strode off, shouting orders to the people to drop the repairs and ready a defense.

Immediately, he was obeyed as those that could began to collect weapons and moved to concealed spots. A troupe passing through may not look close enough to realize the work had only been previously abandoned, which would make for a good ambush if they didn't realize the dupe being played upon them. Right now, it would only be a fight if it could not be stopped.

To complement the semi-offensive maneuver, those who could not fight also found concealed spots. The adolescent girl that had approached Arlix reached to take Alarin's hand then. "Come now, we must hide," she informed gently, moving to coax the woman forward with her and hide.

-------------------------------

Once Isej had discerned the direction of the caravan, he had sent the other scout running, which was all very find and dandy, but now it left Isej to his own means. He wasn't going to lie, the thought was frightening, but overriding fright was duty. He had served his people well. Now he had to make it back in time to stand with them!

But the caravan was already moving, and earlier evidence had shown that they had sent out scouts of their own as well as the occasional stragglers leaving here and there it seemed. But there were many of them, and one of him. He knew they way, and they only had plumes of smoke to follow. He knew he could make it back in time.

Trying to be discreet, he began to scale down from his perch, moving slow and being as silent as possible. Of course, perhaps speed might have helped him a lot more, for as his foot landed on a branch, and he began easing his weight upon it, he was so intent on listening for others who might discover him, that he didn't even notice the own creek the branch underfoot began making.

That creak became a snap, and that snap a loud scream as a shocked Isej lost his hand holds and went plummeting down from his near twenty foot height.

Again, sounds changed as the scream became a dull thud, leaving a breathless Isej to lay moaning in pain. He couldn't assess what all had happened through the first moments of pain as he laid where he had fallen. His mind whirled, and instead of assessing his injuries, the first thing he thought of was... how close was the caravan? Its scouts? Had they heard him? The thought terrified him. What would they do if they found him? He had to move!

When he tried to sit up, a sharp pain in his ribs, chest, and back advised him against such a course, and his head spun with such force, he could only lay back down with a strangled wheeze of noise.

He could just imagine his father now, shaking his head at his son's utter failure...

__________________
I will not kill you... in all technicality time will kill you. I'm just a contributing factor ~ Damarian Vasilis Zaccheo

I do not get moody. I get murderous ~ Saigyn

[A Guest?] ~ Advanced -Arlix-
[The Five Lights] ~ Advanced -Laeris Etheral Jostish- -Valcenz-
[Dove's Bane] ~ Advanced -Alloyscious Haryiel-
[Labyrinth] ~ Advanced -Triton Ochayne Demisou-

Alarin listened close to the human leader, large eyes upon the ground. Yes. The land would heal itself. These people would find their way from this moment of difficulty into equilibrium. It was part of who they were, part of a way that Alarin could recognize as having worth. Whether it would be this lifetime or another, even the memory of the day would pass into nothing.

Nodding, the shaper glanced over at the man standing nearby. Turning slightly, the guest wished to agree and disagree. Change was a boon given by fate yet it felt a bitter drink to take down nevertheless. "Mahda Arlix, I -"

Still, whatever words were to be said between them died upon the thinking of them as quick footsteps heralded the arrival of a girl. Alarin watched the child catch her breath and pass along her news. Caravan?

Before thoughts could congeal and make a semblance of sense, the chief had nodded and turned away to walk briskly into the village. Alarin stared after him for a moment, startled at the last by a touch upon one slender hand. The child took care not to touch anywhere that showed signs of pain, yet Alarin was unaccustomed to touch in any way and the shaper jerked back with a gasp of surprise.

The guest stared owlishly at the young girl then, realizing that this was, perhaps, for the best, as the chief had stated, offered the heretofore withheld hand. The girl smiled and Alarin managed a return smile, uncertain and fearful. The way the village acted, would the caravan be one which might cause more trouble for them? It was obvious that caravans were not the norm for this people from the way in which they responded. So more strangers.

Again.

Alarin breathed out in slow contemplation and followed the young girl into a tent. The distant feeling of responsibility still hung heavily over the bowed head as Alarin settled upon a fur pallet and watched the girl leave to go and carry more messages no doubt. Within the tent, there was only silence and Alarin closed silver grey eyes in both physical and mental pain. To be a victim to the limitations of one’s own body. Alarin had never made a good patient. Yet it seemed from the entrance to the village, one thing after another had happened to make it impossible for Alarin to become hale and whole. It was almost as if the universe conspired to keep the shaper here, an increasingly bad luck symbol for the peaceful people living on this land.

~~~

The caravan shuddered and rumbled and moved a dim following dust into the air, a ghost like pennant strung out and above the wagons. The lady and her attendant watched the forest approaching and the young woman sighed in relief. Finally, they would be elsewhere, out of the long, unending sky. That was perhaps almost the best part of the day. The better part would have been the dim sensation that their searching was almost over.

She had watched her attendant with a focus she’d not shown before. Her eyes had followed him in the morning as he’d set up the small wheeled vehicle to move. She’d not looked away as he’d set out her things for the day and made her breakfast. He, on the other hand, didn’t glance her way once. He went about his tasks with a solid, ethereal grace, his own focus completely upon the tasks at hand.

Now, they sat alongside one another, the girl unable to keep from watching their destination.

"There is smoke. What do you suppose?" she paused in her thoughts then watched as a guard passed by on horseback. "A word!" she called and frowned in consternation as he rose one finger to her with no slowing in the gait of his mount. He was more than likely getting much the same heralds from every wagon he passed by. She would not have been alone in wondering what was happening.

She settled back, her face set in disappointment then glanced over at the boy whose eyes were fixated upon the smoke rising into the sky.

"We’re going there, aren’t we? It’s there."

The boy didn’t answer. He didn’t need to. Every cell of his body visibly strained toward the smoke. The lady of means watched him in silence as she had all morning, then she looked with much the same wonder, toward the broad band of smoke.

"So close," she murmured before lapsing into silence.

__________________

‘What will my death be like?’ he thought- and knew at once
with abrupt certainty, that it would be just like his life:
... the same balance of bearables.
~Amis

"Easy lads, we don't want to start anything here."

Chief of guards, Trufus, was trying to look in all directions at once as the approached the stunted tree. Was it some elaborate trap? Was it part of an attack? Had he even seen what he'd thought he'd seen from the corner of his eye?

He, and his team of five handpicked guards, reached the tree and quickly circled it. They found the stranger lying awkwardly amonst the bare roots, completely silent save for short panting breaths.

"He's hurt," Trufus declared, a note of relief in his voice as he made the obvious statement. "Quickly, you, get back and bring a stretcher of some kind. You, Goral, go tell Shandon what has happened. Have him slow the caravan briefly until we get him back and treated."

The men jumped to their tasks quickly.

~

Shandon listened to the report with interest. So, Trufus had caught one of the scouts. He could scarcely believe their watcher had falled from his post. But one persons misfortune was anothers luck. As gift or hostage, this person would help ensure a peaceful welcome from the people ahead.

On impulse he decided to see this scout. He called for Barat to bring him a horse, and then to take the reins and keep the direction straight. The young boy could hardly believe his luck, given chance to guide the caravan forward! Shandon chuckled at his enthusiasm, and trotted his horse back down the caravan to where his guest would be taken for treatment of his injuries.

Trufus met him outside.

"How is he?"

"A couple of broken ribs, some bruising. Nothing life threatening to someone like him."

Shandon paused a second, wondering what he meant by 'someone like him', but instead gave his reins to his chief of guards and hopped into the back of the wagon. Almost immediately understanding washed over him. The scout, lying in the middle of the wagon in the process of being wrapped in various bandages, was young. Not far past boyhood. Barechested, and tanned from months in the sun, he was fit, toned and well muscled. So healthy, someone like this would heal quickly as Trufus had hinted at.

"Is he awake, can he hear me?" Shandon asked of the healer, and received a quick nod in return.

He moved closer, so he could see the face. The eyes were indeed open and were staring at him.

"Who are you? What is your name?"

The long, low sound of his travelling horn blasted out in the distance. For a boy, Barat sure had a pair of lungs on him to blow it that loud. More importantly it meant they had company or had arrived at their destination. With a hurried order to keep treating him, and be ready to bring him up to the front, Shandon left the wagon and cantered his horse back up to his own wagon. Trufus followed at his right side.

On arriving at the front, Shandon took it all in at a glance. A slight dip to the land had given illusion to the distance, and they found themselves on the edge of a crude looking village. Apart from the smoke, coming from scorched earth at various parts of the village, nothing moved. Not a person could be seen. Shandon was confused, but wary.

"Call a halt here, have them set up in whatever formation you want for security. Have them ready for a swift departure. And bring the scout forward. Perhaps he can explain what's going on."

Trufus saluted and rode off issuing orders. Shandon stared at the silent village. Unless some other option became available he intended to go down there with just a small group of guards. If there was trouble to be found here, he didn't want the whole caravan mixed in with it.

__________________
"The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own satanic herd."

Arlix had gone off to stand with the largest group of his forces. Kahler had stood with him for a while, but then Arlix sent him off with a murmur of "watch our guest. I trust you more than any." The command didn't please Kahler in one bit, but he obeyed complacently and trudged off quickly towards the tent before the caravan could come into sight. Arlix however stood his position with the archers, only about eight of them in total, but eight archers were more than enough to cause chaos should the need arise.

His other people were standing off, waiting for any signal Arlix would make to drive them forward once the caravan arrived, and they certainly didn't have to wait long. Especially when that horn pierced the air. Arlix found himself tensing, ready to pounce like a strained cat. Truly, he was anxious to discover Isej's whereabouts, and could only hope that the boy had been wise enough to take care of himself. He couldn't worry solely about Isej right now anyways. He had a people to worry about. One was little compared to a whole. Intaking a breath, he kept his eyes sharp on the caravan, signaling the bowmen to stay ready.

----------------------------

Kahler stepped into the tent, looking to Alarin as he did with a polite nod before moving to take a seat with a sigh. Not long after he had entered, the horn was blown, causing his spine to stiffen in anxiety. He apparently liked the sidelines less than dear Alarin.

With his thoughts directed at her, he glanced her way and put a scarred, garish finger over his lips, as though she didn't already know to be silent and looked impassively to the doorway of the tent. He was taut as well as anxious, and it showed in his posture. At least there was some weaponry in the tent, just in case.

--------------------------

Isej knew panic when the caravan's own scouts stumbled upon him, but there was little he could do in the matter, injured as he was. It was definitely not life threatening, but for him to try and run now, or offer resistance was completely out of the question. The pain was just too much at that moment. He made not a sound however when they moved him, despite every little jostle, he kept his lips shut firmly. However, around the pain, they were fast growing white, as was his face with every jostle.

They brought him into one of the boxes then, and he tried his hardest not to show his confusion, especially when they began tending to him, but this had to be some kind of trick. How he wished he could warn his people... his father... but the thoughts went nowhere. Nowhere at all.

Suddenly another person was there. This one he recognized. He was a leader of sorts, though definitely didn't hold the charisma or leadership his father had. Isej's gaze blazed with a cold defiance as questions were snapped at him, and even if he wanted to reply, he didn't have the time to for the leader was on the move quickly. Still, he grit his teeth in pain and annoyance. The healer was doing their job, but it still hurt with the movement and the wrapping.

It wasn't long after the sounding of the horn that two of the men who had found him lying prone came to collect him. His eyes widened, though he tried to hide the panic caused by his twisting gut while they hauled him to his feet. He could barely support himself as it was at the moment. He was taken then to the front of the caravan to stand near Shandon. His eyes blazed with a defiance as he sorely found his own feet beneath him. Still his lips were pressed into a thin line, and he breathed through his nose deep and heavily, though it sounded a slight bit crippled from the pain.

He glared at Shandon with an unbridled fury. This man had no right to intrude upon their land. The land he looked to afterwards with a bit of... confusion, then triumph. The girl he had sent ahead managed to suitably warn his people at least. It didn't matter what happened to him now. His gaze returned to Shandon, but this time it blazed with a sense of triumph over the pain, and almost a bit of challenge, as though daring the leader to take his troupes through this one.

He had not a clue as to what his father had in store for the caravan though...

__________________
I will not kill you... in all technicality time will kill you. I'm just a contributing factor ~ Damarian Vasilis Zaccheo

I do not get moody. I get murderous ~ Saigyn

[A Guest?] ~ Advanced -Arlix-
[The Five Lights] ~ Advanced -Laeris Etheral Jostish- -Valcenz-
[Dove's Bane] ~ Advanced -Alloyscious Haryiel-
[Labyrinth] ~ Advanced -Triton Ochayne Demisou-

Something had happened. The girl watched as a group of guards trotted past, one of them holding what looked to be a young man in his arms. She watched, wide eyed and then glanced back toward the smoke. Later, it was the caravan master and he, she did not call. His face looked tense and he was focused on reaching a wagon behind them.

Concerned, she continued with the rest, obedient and with palms sweating. Something was happening. But it shouldn’t have. Beside her, her servant had gone even more still, his pale eyes glinting in the sunlight.

But moments after, the great trumpet sounded and she jumped, then subsided. She’d heard that before. Not often enough but had heard it and at the sound, the wagons slowed imperceptibly as the animals all showed recognition and some confusion at having heard that sound so early in the day. Still, they would receive orders on what to do, no doubt. She peered over the side, hanging to the framing of her small cart, and stared in awe at the destruction ahead. Smoke filled the air and the village ahead.. or rather the encampment? It was deserted.

Shandon and his guardsman thundered past and the girl began to understand that this was not as simple as they’d thought it to be. What if they had caused this? They’re meddling. She bit her lip in agitation.

"Mahda, I.." she turned to her servant and paused as she found him gone. Beside her, the reigns to their one cart horse lay tied to the seat. She reached for them just as the caravan was called to a halt. A guard made his way around, shouting orders on how he wished for the wagons to be placed. His voice sounded calm, reasonable over the jostling chains, the creaking of wood and axle, the high pitched whinnies of the caravan.

She gripped her reigns and did her best, not being so accustomed to using them, but passable at least. Then, as wagon after wagon was placed and braked where they were needed, she took stock and accepted. She was alone, for the moment. But he’d find her again. For now, she had to do her part. That was, to sit and wait on the orders of the men and the caravan master.

~~~

The slender servant trotted down the caravan line. He was small enough to have been taken for an eleven year old boy, though his mind was a great deal older and he was quickly taking stock of what surrounded him. Some short ways from his cart was a guard upon one of the larger wagons. He paused, his delicate nose scenting the air as he tucked up alongside the wagon wheel, out of sight.

A moment later, unconcerned, he slid fishlike back into motion once more. As the caravan fanned out, he took to the far edge and allowed the faint dust cloud of their maneuverings to cover his slender, pale form. With a wink in the sunlight, attention upon the village and the immediate forest, the servant was able to dance into the forest edge. There, using scent and the slightly mobile ears set on the sides of his head, the boy silently mapped out where the villagers were and with a shiver of anticipation, began to creep around them.

What he wanted was inside of the village. They had been searching for what felt like years and he had been so very, very patient. He’d waited far too long to be patient one minute more and action felt better than waiting on the humans to make a mess of whatever was going on at the foremost edge of the village.

__________________

‘What will my death be like?’ he thought- and knew at once
with abrupt certainty, that it would be just like his life:
... the same balance of bearables.
~Amis

The scout was brought forward rather roughly, chest heavily wrapped but otherwise looking the same.

Shandon saw the brief spasm of pain on the face, but it was so quickly switched to an expression of defiance and anger that the order to treat him more gently caught in the caravan master's throat. So much for getting any information.

Then the expression changed. The anger flowed away, to be replaced with... Shandon struggled to qualify it. The eyes met his with a look of success? Triumph! What had so pleased the boy?

Keeping his eyes locked on to the scout, Shandon addressed his chief guard.

"Trufus, pick one of your best. We're going down there. And we're taking him with us."

"Shando..."

"Just one of your best, Trufus. Don't make me repeat myself. I know you'd have me going down there with an army at my back, but we're just peaceful merchants looking for trade and don't mean any harm."

Shandon tried to watch for any flicker in the boy's stare as he declared their intentions. He hoped he had made it quite clear that they had ample ability to defend themselve if necessary, yet it wasn't their intention to appear threatening.

He broke the stare and saw that Trufus was looking displeased, but ready.

"The boy seems strong enough to walk, but be ready to assist him if necessary. Lets go, eyes peeled." And with that Shandon turned, straightened his hat and walked confidently down the slope toward the village, knowing his two guards and the scout were right behind. As he negotiated the rough ground, Shandon found himself glad that Doli atleast hadn't shown himself, looking for trouble with that damnable weapon of his. With any luck the dwarf had drank himself senseless and would stay out of this.

__________________
"The path of my life is strewn with cowpats from the Devil's own satanic herd."

Isej's gaze remained steady on Shandon as the leader made his announcement. It seemed deliberate as though the man had wanted Isej to heed every single word, which of course he had. His gaze was still triumphant, but it had a critical edge to it, curious as to what this leader had in store with appearing so unarmed to his people.

He grit his teeth suddenly when he was goaded into movement. He had barely been touched, but the jostle was enough to ignite pain within his ribcage once again. He made no other acknowledgment of the pain than a small wheeze and said nothing otherwise. He trudged down as best he could on his own, though had no choice but to take aid from who ever would be supporting him on some of the footing. It was humiliating, having to be babied so. But he supposed it was less humiliating then taking a second tumble because he was too prideful to take the help.

Through all of this though, he dreaded coming before his people in the hands of his captors. He dreaded to imagine the look his father would give him, and knew fully that he would not blame them if they simply refused to come out at all. It was taught to the people as a whole that no one person could come before the whole group. Even if the high chief was his father, he was no more important than the next. It was against their communal law for the high chief to put anyone member of their ethnic family above another. No matter the relation.

With that knowledge in mind, Isej couldn't wait to see the look on this current leader's face when he either met a swift death, or no one originated from the seemingly abandoned camp at all.

Of course, he was all too easy to read, and when three figures suddenly came out of hiding, he became quickly crestfallen. No... something like this wasn't supposed to happen...

-----------------------------------------------

Arlix stood in anticipation as he watched the group, his hand raised once four started making their way down. On cue, his eight archers raised their bows to remain at the ready. There were only four. Easily taken care of.

But one was dressed... in such a familiar way. Arlix's eyes hardened sudden and critical with a hawk's sight despite his age as he watched the four, trying to figure out why one of them looked so familiar...

"Put down the bows," he hissed suddenly. "Isej is with them!" Immediately, his archers did as bid, setting the bows down gingerly on the ground to crowd next to their high chief and look as well.

There was a delay while they watched the four travel down the the area of their village before Arlix finally turned to the archers. Two of you, leave your bows and come with me. We have not a prisoner, but let this be on equal ground," he said in a cool tone. "The rest of you stand and wait, should I signal you," he made a quick gesture to show what the signal would be, "fire with care. Aim only for the intruders. When I leave this cover, scatter. They will expect an attack from this location once I reveal it." he explained, then turned and was walking at a brisk pace towards the clearing, his two archers at his back, standing slightly out to the side to make a semi-arrow formation.

He strode out with confidence and it seemed to flow to his escort to make a grand, almost fearless image. He hated to appear so volatile. It was against his nature, but his people as a whole were much too wounded to take any risks. He had to be a protective leader. It was what his position demanded.

As for revealing himself for Isej's sake... he would have done the same for any other of his people. He stood out in the open, in well enough range for his archers to wait for Shandon to come to him. They were his lands after all.

__________________
I will not kill you... in all technicality time will kill you. I'm just a contributing factor ~ Damarian Vasilis Zaccheo

I do not get moody. I get murderous ~ Saigyn

[A Guest?] ~ Advanced -Arlix-
[The Five Lights] ~ Advanced -Laeris Etheral Jostish- -Valcenz-
[Dove's Bane] ~ Advanced -Alloyscious Haryiel-
[Labyrinth] ~ Advanced -Triton Ochayne Demisou-

The servant boy was no more than a shadow as he danced from one tent to the next. Here and there, the clumsy actions and breathing of a human were audible and he would change his course, always remaining out of sight.

It was a primitive village, little more than a conglomeration of tenting fabric, dogs, and the overwhelming reek of humanity. It was lucky that he was accustomed to the smell, however so that when he passed by a small entrance, the lighter, spiced scent of his own kind flitted to his senses. Nostrils flared, he cocked a head and animal like, he turned his head to listen.

Silence. Nothing. Acknowledging a moment after that the scent was old by an hour at least he continued. He was close, so very…

And then he had it. Paused, the small boy held a slim hand to the entrance flap and listened to the grunting annoyance of the human within. Mixed with the anger in the air was an undertone of pain and sorrow, but an absence of fear. That, of course, didn’t make the boy feel any better. Alarin was always best at containing emotion.

Blank faced, the slim creature shivered like a dog out of water. Only instead of sloughing off water, the servant sloughed off his form. In his place stood a dark silver form, long legged with a ruff of almost black about his pointed face. Had there been wolves this far south, they still would not have looked like this creature, modeled after the winter barricaded predators more near the servant’s ancestral home.

Ears pricked, the beast listened to the silence which was not silence within the tenting. There was a stirring, though far too delicate to be human. Al-kin had scented the change. The beast grinned, baring teeth long enough in a jaw strong enough to crush a man’s forearm. Sure that Al-kin was aware and now stood between the door and the offensive human, the animal used a large wet nose to press the flap back.

__________________

‘What will my death be like?’ he thought- and knew at once
with abrupt certainty, that it would be just like his life:
... the same balance of bearables.
~Amis