It was a cool crisp spring evening in the valley, the smell of sweet spring flowers wafting in on a breeze, masked beneath the distinctive musk of a large group of unwashed individuals. The sun was low on the horizon, slowly dissapearing behind the treeline, and occasionally obscured by the plumes of smoke rising wantonly from the cooking fires. The sizzle of cooked meats hissed among the chatter of merry conversation, occasionally a loud bellow of a laugh rising above the general chatter. Women zipped this way and that with platters of food and piles of laundry, pinging in and out of tents on their daily chores, nimbly dodging the naked or barely-dressed children who ran and played through the main walkways.

Everywhere, there were tents. Big ones, small ones, all sorts of furs and cloths and mismatched materials, every clan represented. Their placement seemed haphazard, sprawling across the valley with no obvious rhyme or reason to the uneducated eye. For it was a time when humans of this continent gathered in peace as brothers and sisters, celebrating their triumphs, their children and their good fortune. Marriages were made, boys and girls became men and women, treaties were hashed out and offerings were made to the gods and magical creatures in thanks and reverence. It was a time of peace and prosperity, a time to band together, for the world was a dangerous place filled with trials and tribulations for the non-magical human race.

The furs and leathers masked the heavy footfalls of the northern tribe as they approached the Gathering. It had been a good six day's travel to reach the camp, though the journey had gotten easier as it had progressed. Snow had thawed, rocky terrain had smoothed into rolling hills and then gentle plains, and now they walked across the valley, catching the smell of a porkroast on the wind, their spirits lifting as some of their number catcalled ahead in jest.

Rimguage's skulls, bones and trophies clinked with a hollow resound as he approached. Behind him the bannermen held the symbol of Wolfrahg high, some of the younger men howling like wolves as they approached, only to then be chastised by the middle aged mothers in the clan who whacked them curtly round the back of the head. His eyebrow quirked in amusement - about as much as you'd ever get out of Rimguage in public - and only then had he realised the stony expression he wore today was real and not just a social ploy. He thought back to the recent wound that caused him so much pain...

...The air was cool but the pair of them didn't mind. Moss made a cozy bower, and the canopy stretched above them, leaves damp from the now-melted morning frost. Birds chirruped, and she lay beside him, looking beautiful among the wildflowers, so small he could hardly believe she wasn't a fairy. The sunlight filtered through the leaves in rays, lighting up her face and stealing away into her eyes which glittered with their gift. He'd brought furs for them to keep them cozy, but it hardly seemed to matter.
Rimguage hadn't realised he'd been staring when she spoke.

"You're mine, you know."

Her hand reached up to touch his raven hair, fingertips weaving in and out of the strands. There had never been an exact moment for her that she had suddenly realised he was beautiful; it had happened gradually, like a flower blooming. His pale eyes were enchanting, the mark on his cheek alluring. Instead of finding his size intimidating, Valerie felt safe and secure in his arms - as if nothing would ever hurt them...Of course, she was wrong.

"You'll always be mine, Rimguage. And I'll always be yours."

It took alot to make a man like Rimguage smile, but it cracked across his face now like water breaking through rock.

"Of course. Who's going to boss me around otherwise?" came his deadpan reply, but that was the way he joked around. His arms snaked around her and he pulled the tiny doll close to his chest, placing his hands near the curves of her back. He curled up around her and breathed in the soft scent of her hair. "Aye, you're a good woman Valerie. I'll always be yours. If I had my way, I'd hold you forever like this." but his voice dropped to a whisper, as thoughts of the future broke into his mind.

"Sweet love, Valerie. Pixie Valerie. You and I both know this day would come, and it comes too soon for both of us." his eyes fell then, unseen to her, and while many would never be able to see his upset, the ragged breaths that filled his chests with sudden movement gave himself away to his childhood sweetheart. The only girl he'd ever loved.

"We can't see each other like this no more, pet. I'm due to be married on the morrow following the Gathering." his grip tightened ever so slightly around her. Rimguage didn't want to give her up. The thought of her lying in another man's arms... having bairns together, raising a family, growing old. If only he could elope with her, like they'd discussed when they were younger... but no, the chains of duty held him strong. It was his destiny as future Chieftain. And this was the last moment they would have.

Her lover's words, despite everything, still surprised her. She felt her heartbeat quicken and a dull ache make itself known in her chest. Valerie supposed she should be angry; at the clan, at him, at her, but the time for anger had passed. There was nothing they could do now. She recalled the fleeting period of bliss when everything was years away and they had only each other to worry about. Everything had been so bright, and so hopeful back then. Now the only man she had ever loved was marrying another woman. Would she be loving, beautiful? So many questions had been asked, demanded even, but no answers had been given.
"Promise me one thing, my love."

Even after her years spent with what she now called her clan, Valerie's voice still had the whispers of an accent of the South. She shivered a little against Rimguage's embrace - she rarely showed fear or sadness, her face a mask of rebellion, but now her eyes were shining with emotion. She could never hide anything from him, not now and not ever. Although she felt the pressure of unshed tears, she held them back. Valerie never cried.

"You must be happy. I want you to grow old and grey with little lads and lassies all claiming your name. I want you to forget about me and love your wife as I love you." Every essence of her being was wishing the next day would never come, and her mind pleaded with whoever was in control to just stop time right there. She felt her sweetheart's broad chest rise and fall with barely concealed emotion and it hurt her more. She would give anything to lessen his pain. Whoever this woman was, she would treat him right - like a proper wife should. Valerie was never cut out to be the bride of a Chieftain; so this was better for him. It had to be.

Rimguage's voice cracked then. "oh sweet, even now you're the better one of us. Though it pains me to think of you with another, I can't bear to think of you unhappy. I'll never forget you, I won't and I can't, know my heart will always be with you. But live your life with that passion of yours, and make it a happy one, so that should we meet in the afterlife we'll have lots of stories to tell each other." and for the first time since he was a child, teals rolled down Rimguage's cheeks, and he buried his thoughts in her hair, and his love in her chest.

"Look at that banquet! Fit for kings, as always!" came the grizzly voice of one of the clansmen, ripping Rimguage out of his revelry. That was right - there was no point in dwelling on the past. He stood a little straighter, raised his gaze a little higher. Today he would feast with the other clans, make merry and see old friends he'd missed. Perhaps he'd meet his betrothed... and tommorrow. Tommorrow he would marry.

Bahij

Location: woods then meeting point (approaching from west)
Interacting with: anyone near by
Mood: hard to tell...seems at peace

---

Inhale exhale. The focused breaths of the man focused on his prey were barely noticeable. Inhale exhale. In his hands were knives his blue eyes peering from the brush. His crouch equal to a hunting cat. The stag raised its head as Bahij burst from the brush and swiftly killed it. He made sure it was dead before placing his hand over its face. "I thank you for providing for me." Bahij made quick work of the skin and meat. He had other furs for today, but he had wanted some furs that were fresher. The meat was cut precisely to fit into smaller pouches some was given to his falcon.

As he was focused on his task he paused. He slowly turned and crouched in time for a big cat to burst out. They tumbled and fought. The cat yowled as he battled. Bahij was able to kill the cat and then took its hide and meat. He also took the claws and teeth in case someone would want to trade for them.

Once he was prepared he gently rubbed his elk's face. The beast was massive large antlers and a beautiful coat. The elk snorted and he chuckled. He got on the back of the elk and the falcon landed on an antler and preened itself. He made his way to the meeting point.

As Bahij got closer the elk let out a shrill shriek it's back adorned with furs and hides, Bahijs signature pouches were stuffed with various goods and the man himself scarred as he was had the look of peace. Shirtless as always and blue eyes shining as they always seemed to Bahij had arrived.

The Rumasra arrived a few days early, as they seemed to do almost every year. Their Chief, Reisa Ruma, always preferred to err on the side of caution. As a clan from the marshes, their people struggled outside of their wet, squishy refuge as the plants and animals grew more foreign the further they pushed from their nature sanctuary. Truth be told, it had been a while since Numas was in attendance. In fact, Numas almost seemed eager about the meeting of their clans this year, much to Reisa (and everyone else’s) chagrin. Their witch doctor was an expert, but Numas’ beliefs and thoughts put many others at edge. The Rumasra were not a spiritual people. Their superstition kept them on their toes around graveyards and nature spirits, but that was as far they stretched.



Now, Numas stood leaning against their staff at the edge of the camp site with their free hand crushing some dried leaves within it, and their usual pondering went by as the mighty Wolfrahg wandered into the large group that was beginning to grow.

For his joy, Numas had plenty of time to think, and to share their thoughts with some of the others on their long, arduous journey from the marshes they called home. Numas’ time away from the tribe came in handy when it came to discovering plants that no one had ever seen before. Many nights were spent with Numas and one or two young people that joined with them as they brought praise to the Gods. Numas constantly asked for their names, for their dreams, and while they never brought the answers Numas was looking for, they did send their images. Usually, it was up to interpretation.

But their last dream was not the usual fanfare. Its images were so… literal. The banners of the clans burning down… Numerous animals tearing each other apart, as strings pulled at marionettes that were already bleeding…

Numas wasn’t weighed down by these other images. They scratched at their damaged, blind eye as they brought the crushed herbs up to their nose and took a quick sniff.

Perfect.

From scent alone, Numas predicted this would bring his mind and body together once more, at least for a few moments the next time he would commune.

-

Location: Near the outskirts of the 'Gathering' - Able to see the tall mountains.
Interacting with: Tribesmen - @Angel Eyes/Crossed roads.
Mood: Burnout via travel

---

---

---

Kanza's eyes open to birds chirping and light chattering outside his tent, they lay upon the skins of animal skin, a comfort entirely unneeded but insisted upon by his fellow tribesmen. His mind lingered on his dream, but for the life of him he could not even recall the most bare of details. After a few minutes he waved off the odd dream with a nonchalant shrug and hoisted himself upwards. It took a few minutes for Kanza to collect himself, pushing through the initial drowsiness. A few more minutes and he remembered they were on the road to the gathering. Now, only hours away after five days of travelling.

The Longear were already preparing to move. When asked why they didn't bother waking Kanza, he was shot with a toothy grin, 'you looked so peaceful'. As those words drifted out of their mouths, a few gathered Longears stifled their chuckles. One really wouldn't expect this kind of discourtesy towards the 'head advisor', but Kanza had made it imperative that he was to be treated as they would do with other tribesmen. Initially it was difficult for them, being stiff and respectful, but after a while they talked to Kanza as if they were close friends.


He paused, trying to gather his words. His tribesmen eyed him expectantly, some becoming anxious at his previous words. Kanza was never really one for speeches nor could he effectively rouse up his fellow tribesmen, being as asocial as he is, it was the job of the chief to do so. Nevertheless before the trip he was goaded into socializing more with his clanmates by the same chieftain.


Despite this, they were still packing up the make-do tents so Kanza was given time to explore. He didn't pass by this opportunity, his expression guarded but a tinge of excitement and wonder plagued his sides. With his bow and quiver safely fastened to his back he moved towards the coasts, as his tribe were travelling near it. There was a tinge of yellow sand fighting against the green grasslands that threatened to engulf it. The air was dewy and refreshing, very different from the air of forestland. It had an almost... nostalgic feeling to it.

He explored through the tall thickets of seemingly endless grass, a bit annoyed that it was taller than him. A few small critters passed by his feet- rabbits, bugs and snakes. He was blown away at this, there had distinct differences than the critters in the Longear's forests. He watch them scamper around until he heard voices,


Footsteps moved closer towards Kanza, whom had already instinctively clasped his bow. The rough whistle of the wind played in orchestra with metal scraping out of sheathes. Before they could get any closer into the thickets Kanza stepped out, his hands halfway into the air in a form of mock surrender. Kanza could see soldiers, wearing odd garments made of linen and cloth, steel was pointed towards him from all directions. Immediately he recognized them, these men hailing from Hollafoth, The Longear traded (albeit sparsely) with them. The person who boomed the command hid a person behind him, as if a prince protecting a princess. He figured that they were heading towards the clan gathering, being this far off from Hollafoth.


He really did make no effort of stating who he was, well, he wasn't entirely sure if it would help given the circumstances. I mean, they really wouldn't just stab a man- who looks like a female, for no reason, right?

Thinking about it, he was gone more than the allotted time, so his clanmates were probably scouring the lands looking for him- not wanting a repeat of the 'incident' where they almost lost him.

Éclair felt some sweat roll down the nape of her neck, however she lacked the time to focus on the sensation as her eyes widened and she ducked underneath a well thrown haymaker. Her sparring partner seemed intent on landing that, no matter how many times she ducked it. As she bobbed back up she stepped around him, playfully smacking the back of his head. She raised her eyebrows as if to say 'how dare I!' Before letting her grin consume the lower half of her face.

A quick jab came next, she pivoted right and blew it a kiss as it soared past her head. That was truly one too many mistakes. So she grabbed the offered arm and shifted her left leg so that it extended past her sparring partner's rolling his weight over her, using her leg to get his feet of the ground. Just as soon as his foot was off the ground he soon hit it. Hard.

"Sorry, I guess I don't know my own strength." Éclair said rubbing the back of her neck free of sweat as that same giant grin returned. She helped her partner up adn gave him a pat on the shoulder. "Your form is getting better, but maybe try not to punch unless you know I wont see it coming." She said unraveling the sparring tape from her wrists. Weapon's training was next.

A broad shouldered man entered the self-made ring next. He carried with him a wooden hunting spear, a typical weapon one might pick up in the case of an ambush. Éclair was offered a spear by a watcher. She shook her hand with a hearty laugh. "No that's alright, I should fare just fine."

They began.

First step, where is the spear headed. Éclair watched her opponent's upper body his shoulder rose as his eyes glanced to her side and she silently exhaled air in order to move a little quicker. She brought her body weight to the left and swung her arm across her chest to the right, knocking the neck of the spear away from her position. As soon as her palm had landed on the spear her left foot gripped the ground and gave her the tension needed to lead forwards with her right foot, delivering a knee directly to her opponent's sternum. He began to stagger backwards, but not enough to satisfy Éclair. So as she landed she thrusted her palm forwards exhaling all of the air out of her body and striking him with msot of her strength. He was on the ground.

"Phew, you almost had me for a second there!" She lied with that grin of hers.

"No, I didn't." He responded in a half-laugh, half-groan.

"Looks like we're about to move towards the valley, think anyone else will be there yet?" Another man questioned looking out towards the passages to the south.

"Cut them some slack, we started earlier, live closer and move quicker." Éclair said matter-of-factly, grabbing a spare shirt and wiping down her face and neck with it. She immediately moved towards where she knew the important people of the Longear tribe would be located. She was proven correct by Kanza;s voice. Following his voice were some of the men cheering and whistling. This is why he was head advisor. He became a brother, son, and father to most of the men and women of the Longear tribe and it was that reason that Éclair respected him, even with their limited contact.

She watched as Kanza nonchelantly made his way into the woods. With so many other tribes wandering around that might not be the best idea.

But alas, he was the advisor. She was just Flydren's sword. Kanza was Flydren's concious. Or at least they would both be in that position soon enough. He was still just an heir after all.

Éclair thought about going to his tent to speak to him before the Longear's really started to pick their feet up off the ground, but she decided it was best to leave him to his thoughts. She didn't want to upset him...

What was she thinking?!

Her cheeks flushed.

"You thinking about the heir again?" Her sparring partner called out while he lifted a tent.

"I will put you back on the ground!" She said storming off with her back to their chuckles.

"She may be the champion, but she's also definitely still seventeen."

Alexis Hunter

Location: On a road towards The Gathering (Approaching from the south)

Interacting with: anyone near by

Mood: Brooding

---

Alexis was on the road for more than a few weeks and it was getting colder and colder with every step she took. She was going in the right direction because of that. She has never traveled so far north in all her life and it was a trip that took much for her. " At least the pay is good. " she muttered under her breath as another chilly wind hit her.

As she was approaching the meeting place , she started to think about her cover. A merchant that came to sell her wares ? No. That wouldn't let her enter the tent of the one she needed to find. An old hag that couldn't see much could work but where could she find old woman clothes. No , that won't work. A hunter that came to offer her services to the highest bidder ? That will work. As they say , stick to what you know and let others do what they cannot.

The sound of an animal was heard. Alexis quickly took her bow and an arrow from her quiver , ready to shoot when needed. From behind her another sound was heard , this one more closer. She turned as fast as she could and released an arrow in that direction. A whimper was heard and she went to investigate. Not before she put another arrow in the bow.

There is was. A big brown wolf. Killed by an arrow in the eye. That was a lucky shot. She took her knife out and started to cut the wolf open. Alexis took his pelt and it's canine teeth to be used as arrow heads in desperate situations. The pelt was to make herself a new coat , the one she wore was already had spots of dried blood on it and a hole from the arrow she took in the shoulder a mouth ago. The wound healed but the hole didn't fix itself.

Alexis was getting tired of moving and wanted to take a break but she knew she couldn't. She lost enough time already by going against her personal code of getting only one bounty at a time and took a small idiot out for some money for the road. The mission was to get a woman called " Pershepone " , a rough description was given and a lot of money were promised. She had to be there earlier so she has time to scout the place , take her out and escape unharmed. Alexis only took Dead or Dead bounties and only took 2 Wanted alive bounties in her career as a bounty hunter. She never liked the idea to keep someone alive and bring him to a certain place and time. Too many things could happen , too many variable and it was not worth the risk. Killing the person and then taking something of his as proof was faster , cleaner and not so bothersome.

She looked ahead and saw the village in the distance. It was big , full of tents and men and women moved around it almost reminded her of her own village. It was not as big as this one , nor so crowded but was something close to what she once knew as home. She holstered her bow and started moving again towards the village. Men and women approached the village from all directions , something that Alexis took as a bad sign. Too many people means that there will be too many eyes upon her , she had to be careful.

It had been early afternoon when the ragged forms of the Karill had finally approached, slaves marching with their owner's carriers. Despite being such a big clan, there number was equal to many here this day - for the journey from their home was long, arduous and thwart with dangers. Those higher up in the Karill sometimes looked upon this meeting with distaste, for the nature of it meant that they were always the ones with the most dangerous journey. It had been over three decades now since the last attempt at allowing the Karill to host - many had died in the journey, and others had never bothered to make the trail back. It had been a dark time and the clans had been on the edge of war because of it, but those wounds had long healed, though Karill's resentment at their lot remained.

In more recent years it had been customary for their royalty to be sent ahead with proper escort, mostly to avoid attracting the attention of magical creatures in the desert wastes, and so it was this year. It was no surprise that Karill was such a hardy, bloodthirsty people, living as they did.

From here Raydon could see the white tent ahead that denoted Karill royalty, a flurry of soft silk, a trade the Karill had mastered. A flutter of emotion in Raydon's chest, but only for a second. His gaze remained level.

Raydon carried his master in his travelbox, his body covered head to toe in red and orange dust. Around his face were wrapped long pieces of cloth, protecting his face. His Master had been "kind" and gifted the four of them basic protection against the elements, though many other slaves had not been so lucky. The others were weary, as Raydon should have been, but his years speant fighting numbed any assosciation he had with his body. When he sat down tonight, he'd let it catch up with him for a while. Just a little while.

They marched along the paths in measured beats, the sound of the Karill drums filling the air and marking their presence with the steady pace of a heartbeat. Thrum. Thrum. Thrum. Children stared at the strange mysterious men and the occasional camel that followed them (such strange beasts from beyond this land!), but the Slave's gaze was measured and set on the horizon.

"Hya!" came the call, and the case was set down. In an instant Vyr was out, his head shining bald, his moustache and beared curled to fine points. His beady eyes searched the Gathering with both a hunger and disgust, as if looking for something. A click of his fingers and Raydon was by his side in an instant, standing immovable like a wall of rock. His expression, dead.

"Bloodchild, keep an eye out for suitable wives to add to my collection. The women here are a different breed... I do so wish to have them in my chambers." a lick of his lips and he slid a glance at his slaveboys, eyes glinting with viscious amusement.
"Not that you would know, boy."

Ophelia stood with her arms outstretched, clawing at the air and stamping her feet.

"And there was the beast, three heads and all, just fangs and teeths and eyes and raving limbs. It snatched the fair maiden away with one great pull, but mighty Darceleius knew just where to strike." She flung herself forward into the audience of children that sat on the ground around her, their painted faces watching up with big doe eyes. A few squealed in glee as she pretended to lift a mighty sword and slam it into the invisible beast before them. She stood there for a moment, letting them hang on the suspense, before calling the tale for all to here.

"He took his magic sword blessed by Miselian and he rasied it high, and they the world shook as he plunged it right into the creature's still beating heart. And with that his great quest was over, and the beast curled up into a writhing mess. He caught Lady Vaine as she fell, and the world was safe from the monstrous beast forever."
There was a pause and then a collection of claps mixed with excited questions.

"But what about the dragon's teeth?"
"Did he marry The Lady Vaine? She must of been sooo pretty in her gown!
"Noo the beast can't die! I wanted him to smash everything! That would of been a much better ending."

Ophelia grinned and flumped back against the ground, noticing a few familliar faces in the crowd.
"Always spinning a yarn, aint we Ophi? Girl never changes!" came the rabbled call of a Romawyn folk, who gave a laugh from the pit of his belly before slumping off in search of more mead for his tankerd. She gave a lazy wave as the children approached to grill her over the tale.

"They say the dragon's teeth are still buried in the mountains to this very day. Darceleius returned to ask one more time for the Lady's hand, and after hearing his deed her father finally relented."



The girl paused, contemplating the words. "Why, Asteria always knew that Darceleius would slay the beast. I imagine the pair of them are in the heavens right now, watching over us."

Something twinged at the edge of Ophi's consciousness at that, an oddly nostalgic feeling. Ophelia always loved stories of gods, and she loved to entertain, and so tonight was spent like many nights when she had company - weaving tall tales or recounting stories she'd read about in books. At home she had little company, and she came to every Clan Gathering to be sure to get her fill. She always made the most of it, even if she'd gotten in a few unladylike scraps because of it. Good memories go with black eyes, she would say.

As it was, she stood and dusted off her knees. "Right, that's all! You lot stay out of trouble. I'm gone to go see if I can lend a helping hand anywhere instead of lazing around all day." Another big grin at these words (for they were very true), delighting in the fact that some of the children seemed genuinely dissapointed to be seperated from their soure of entertainment. Still, they'd find other ways to amuse themselves.

Ophelia went to find a milkmaid's yoke and attached some buckets to it, knowing full well they'd always be in need of water. She trampled off to fill them up to the brim. Hopefully she wouldn't get too told off for not helping out much today, considering she'd been here since day one and had done little of use.

She heard the familiar call of an elk in the distance, and her heart lept at the sound. Her measured footsteps became frantic as she ran and skipped towards the ridge to see lower into the valley. Her buckets clinked against her back but she didn't mind - lucky they weren't filled just yet.

Passing the next text she saw them in the distance.

"Bahji! Bahji you're here!" she called, her voice echoing through the valley as she waved vigorously towards his distant form.

@Mae

---

Bahij had his elk, named Iki, trot toward the meeting place. Its head held in a proud way while the falcon continued to...not care. He lost himself in his thoughts, excited to see everyone taught again. That and to be able to trade his goods. Meetings were always good since there was so much festivity and so much happiness ripe for enjoyment.

Bahij heard a familiar voice calling his name and he slid off the back of Iki. He took the lead of the makeshift halter he had made for said elk and quickly made his way to her. Holding the lead tightly so that Iki did not run ahead of him. When they got close enough he hugged her and then stood back and smiled. "Opella how are you? it feels like its been so long since we last saw each other" Seeing her now made him remember a certain picnic they had had such a long time ago. Part of him wondered if she still had feelings for him and if she did how exactly he felt about it.

Iki nuzzled her and seemed just as happy to see her. The falcon seemed to remain uncaring. The falcon gave one look then looked away owning up to the name it had been given of Prince with its attitude. Bahij smiled as he animal companion reacted to seeing Ophella and tilted his head. He knew that Ophella would be going through the ceremony to become a woman. "Are you excited for your ceremony?"

Persephone drove her knife into the heart of the near-silent doe. It breathed calmly letting its soul escape its mortal shell as her shaky hand dragged the blade along the doe’s side and began to empty it. She was going to be making a stew for Nissa. The one she’d always offer her lover, after all, it was quite the journey to make it out to Persephone, and she needed nourishment afterwards. Persephone skillfully removed the meat she would use and impaled it on a small stick with a knife tied on to it.

Now it was time to make a fire. She set aside the meat and found a small tree. It was skinnier than the rest, just asking to be toppled. Persephone wondered if she looked a little like that tree right now. After all. Today was the day.

She charge the tree, feeling some progress on pushing the roots. She didn’t want to stay tied to the ground, rooted to her current position. She could go somewhere with Nissa. They could run away leave the politics behind.

But Nissa had already testified as to why she was getting married. It wasn’t an option, it was the path she had been set upon since she was born. A path that didn’t leave room for Persephone to walk with her, side by side. She’d have to walk ahead or behind and make sure she was having an alright time. Persephone’s tear soaked eyes closed as she finally managed to knock over the small tree. She got to work, sawing on it with her knife. She typically went through two knives in the process of building a fire. She couldn’t quite think of a better way to go about building one though.

Once her logs were prepared, she created a tinder nest, the bark small sticks anything that could keep a spark alive and turn it into a fledgling fire. Next she found a decent-enough stick to rub her log with and got to work. Thirty sweat-soaked minutes later she managed to get a reliable enough spark. She nourished that into a flame.

She reached behind her to a pot of water. Nissa had given her the pot some time ago, along with some other basic luxury items, like two bowls and spoons. She propped the meat up so that she could rotate it over the fire, also hanging her pot of soup from the same large branch, suspending it above the fire. At certain points she would add herbs, but other than that she just had to let the fire cook her meal.

Perhaps she had to let Nissa do her own thing as well? Was there a lesson to be found in the monotony of everyday life? Some kind of answer that eluded her for some reason. Once the stew had finished boiling she added the beef to it. Cutting it away from the bone that was suspended above the fire into the pot.

It smelled nice.

Before long the stew was ready and rustling could be heard in the woods. She wasn’t sure if it was Nissa or not, so she held onto her knife, ready.

Narcissa was rather happy after she had managed to sneak out of the karill encampment The only thing lovely about the place was her own tent, nothing else. There was nothing enchanting about the many near-corpses of slaves surrounding their tents. Efficient they were, but they lacked style of all sorts. Narcissa had changed into a rather simple gown, with less frills to ease movement. There were times where she wished she could surprise her love with something more ravishing, but that would make her journey far too troublesome. Furthermore, she knew that Phe was happy enough just with her presence.

As Narcissa drew closer, she caught the scent of the stew to lead her the way. It was stunning to remember this tradition had already lasted for half a decade, ever since Phe had made stew for her after finding her in the woods. How her father had scolded her the day after for leaving the camp to play in the woods, but it had all been worth it. The smell grew stronger as she closed in, her stomach rumbling slightly. She quickened her pace, her heart skipping a beat, as she was certain that it was her. She leapt from the bushes and squeezed herself against Persephone. "Phe!" She squeaked "I've missed you."

Is an instant Nissa embraced Phe. It took her off guard, perhaps her reflexes were slowed, perhaps she was dulled by Nissa's scent or her presence. It was hard to tell. When she was alone she was Persephone, but with Nissa... She was more and less at the same time.

She was Phe, it was simpler than most things. She hugged her back.

"It's good to see you Nissa, your trip was safe?" She asked squeezing the girl as tight as she could without harming her. She felt her eyes dampen, but she managed to shake it off, stroking Nissa's beautiful hair once before separating. She lead the heiress to a small, cleaner section of the woods. It was nicest there. Right by the fire, by the freshly made stew.

She poured some of the stew into a bowl for her and handed her the bowl and a spoon to eat it with.

"I've missed you. It's been... A long few months."

Narcissa softly confirmed her question as she enjoyed their reunion, It had been a while since she had felt any true joy. This was the only thing she had been looking forward to since the last time. The past few months had simply been preparation for the gathering... for tomorrow. No, she didn't want to think about that right now, she was with Phe, for what she thought would be their last time. After they separated she sat down at the fire and graceously took the bowl from Phe's hands. In the light of the fire, the fact that she had been crying became very apparent. This sight alone created an enormous pit in her stomach, Why did she have to make Phe suffer? She was the best thing that had ever happened to Narcissa. But the princess was promised to another man, and would have to marry hours after the next sunrise. "I've brought something for you." Narcissa said, trying to recover her joyful self as she took a beautiful brooch from her tiny pouch, Inlaid was what was likely one of the largest amethysts this side of the land had ever seen. "I had it made for you..." She choked a little in these words, knowing that this gift was so grandiose because it would be her last one.

Persephone took the brooch in her delicate hands. It was beautiful, an amethyst the size of which Persephone didn't even know was possible. She held it close to her heart for a moment. It felt warm somehow.

"Thank you Nissa it's lovely." She said pecking the top of Nissa's head. She sat down beside her while shet ate and placed her head on Nissa's shoulder. Cooing sweetly. "Let's just enjoy this right now, okay?"

Persephone said wrapping her arms around Nissa's left arm and cuddling in closer. She looked up to the morning sky it was the same as always, if not slightly brighter. It was if the heavens had no idea what a bad day today was going to be.

"I bought a dress. To attend your wedding." Persephone said motioning over to a dress that hung from a branch. It was beautiful, she had to trade a bear's pelt for it to a merchant and that wasn't easy to obtain.

Narcissa genuinely smiled as Phe thanked her, a rarity amongst other people. But around Phe she found herself quickly dropping any pretense. Being in the larger woman's hold was soothing, as if she was protecting her for the evil spirits that loomed over tomorrow. Her own head gently touched hers as it laid on her shoulder.

Narcissa was clearly startled for a moment when she mentioned the dress. "Are... are you certain?" She asserted."I will have to look happy with him... kiss him..." She paused for a few seconds. "I wanted to at least save you from that sight." At this point her own tears started to arise from the corners of her eyes, only slightly. "I don't want that to be the last thing you see of me." She said as her breathing became clearly more stifled.

"I appreciate that, NIssa." Persephone said bringing her head up from the girl's shoulder. "But I'm sorry, it is not up to you." She said with a small smile on her slightly restrained features. "I will be happy too, you start a new life soon, it's exciting." Persephone said as convincingly as she could.

"You shouldn't stay too long today. They will notice your absence more today than ever before." She said stroking NIssa's hair and looking deep into her eyes. She knew that the wedding was going to be difficult for Nissa, more difficult than even for her. So she had to support her lover through this. It was what a good partner would do.

It was what was right for Nissa. She deserved to have someone in her corner for once.

Even though Narcissa resigned herself to the fact that she wasn't going to talk Phe out of coming to her wedding, she fervently shook her head as she suggested she'd go. Instead she latched onto her lover and dug herself into her chest. "A little longer... please..." She begged her. Even if it was going to be someone else holding her from now on, she did not want to forget the touch of her Phe."I'm sorry, Phe. I'm so, so sorry." She murmurred through hushed sobbing.

Phe hugged her. "Of course Nissa, whatever you need." Persephone said holding onto the trembling girl. She was in a lot of pain. Both of them were. Persephone would hold onto Nissa until she had to leave. Maybe a little past that. She wasn't sure, she wasn't ready to be sure.

Narcissa didn't need anything. She just wanted this moment for the rest of their lifetimes; to just gently stay in her embrace until they were both old. But no, despite all she had, Narcissa's wishes had never truly been granted. Her small hands slowly worked their way upward, latching onto the fabrid of her clothing. "I wish I could say the same to you." She wriggled herself upward in Phe's hold to make her own lips meet hers.

"Well it will certainly be a new experience for me as well." Phe began slinking away from Nissa's grip as she knew she was going to have... A mixed reaction.

"I'm going to join the Wolfrahg tribe, I will follow you, Nissa" Persephone said, assuredly. She knew that this was the path that would suit them the most. Because worst case scenario she would at least see more of Niss from now on. Even if it wasn't in the sense that she wished it could be.

"We'll still have a life together, just not the one we wished it could be."

"What are you..." Narcissa gasped. "I can't let you! You'd have to see me be his wife 'till the end of our days." She paused for a second. "I know we'd still be together... but are you sure? Hiding us away?" The more she thought about it, the more it suited her needs. But could she force Phe into a lifestyle that she'd loathe, just for her? She knew very well that Phe didn't do well in groups. "You deserve better than this... but I can't give you anything better." She said defeated. "I'll ask you one last time. Are you sure you don't just want to find someone better than me?"

"Unfortunately, I don't believe that's in my hand. right now." Persephone said in a joking yet still somber voice. "This is my plan and I don't have any other thoughts about it."

"I hope you'll put in a good word for me, Nissa."

A dark cloud had seemed to pass over the young woman's usually fiery nature. Anything she said was empty and half-hearted, and her features seemed to be a carving of bleakness - delicate, yet lacking life. The only thing at the moment that was vaguely alive in her was the way in which she was hacking at some poor tree with her axe. Her forehead glistened with sweat and her hair had come undone long ago; it tumbled down in a tangled mess of blonde waves that she couldn't care less about. The look of concentration that graced her features is what kept most people away - most likely in fear of having a limb chopped off by the brutish weapon.

Her fellow scouts had long since abandoned their hopes of getting her to stop and were conversing a few hundred yards away, shooting her an occasional amused glance every once in a while. They had learned a long time ago that being worried about Valerie was useless in their part; whatever it was she was going through, this was how she dealt with it quickly and efficiently and without hesitation - like killing an elk. What they did not know, however, was how much she was hurting inside.

It was like a hole being burnt straight through her chest; agonising enough for her to wish for death, but not quite close enough to her heart to grant that wish. Heartbreak, she supposed, was meant to feel this way. But was this heartbreak? Were her feelings even important enough to cause this much pain? Maybe she had been poisoned. The thought caused the girl to snort to herself. Denial.

Only when she sensed the scouts behind her begin to shift did she stop swinging her weapon. Without even taking a second to admire the damage she had done, Valerie rejoined her brethren. The scouts had arrived at the Gathering a few hours earlier than the rest of the Wolfrahg clan, to ensure that there would be no danger in their way - much to the relief of Valerie. However, it was customary to regroup with the rest of their tribe as they arrived at the Gathering.

So, as a large group of familiar faces emerged over the crest of a hill, the couriers shouted in greeting and responded with wolf howls of their own. The sight caused Valerie to visibly lighten, her lips shaping an uncontrollable grin. "That's our girl." A rough clap on the back was replied with a shove to the shoulder and the faerie-like girl was surrounded by faces she had grown to cherish. Of course, her gaze automatically rested on his, but was soon forced away as she was lead away by a flock of chattering women.

"This'll be it - the year you'll find a suitable husband, Valerie." A raven-haired girl took her by the arm as they delved deeper into the growing crowd of clans. "Your bloodline may not be the most appropriate, but your looks make up for it." Valerie suppressed a shudder as the girl whose name she'd forgotten patted her arm reassuringly. She had no clue as to where they were going, and apparently neither did her companion. Oh well, now would be an ample time to socialise.



That was her cue to slip away. Murmuring excuses about needing to relieve herself, Valerie slipped from her grasp and began weaving her way through the crowds of strangers. She ensured that her axe was well out of the way as countless folk barged into her, most not even noticing her due to her lacking in height. Her shortness also made it next to impossible to see what direction she was going. She may as well have been walking in circles for all that she knew. It was safe to say that now she was well and truly lost.

-

Floran was happy to have finally left the cold Craenak mountains to once again touch upon warmer soil. The last few months had been a little bit too cold for his liking, albeit rather lucrative he had to admit. Craenak were capable. practical, but few in number. As such, capable hands were always welcomed in the cold north. Luckily for Floran, he managed to land a job in the escort of the Craenak's leaders to the clan gathering, a place he was headed to regardless.

A good mercenary was never going to get better work oppurtunities than at the gathering. Floran had quite a reputation with many clans. Not only was he in his line of work far longer the average joe, which quickly retired after losing a limb or two within a year or three, and he was known as one of the most reliable people around. Floran was an odd mercenary in the sense that he actually had a lick of honour.

The last time he had worked for the Craenak, their old chieftain was still in charge. Boy, how times had changed. Something about this new chief was... unsettling. He was far more secretive than the former chieftain had been. And unlike their formerly practical ways, the path they were talking to the meeting was incredibly... lonely. Was he straying from the lands of other clans on purpose? And why had the chieftain hired such a great amount of mercenaries to accompany him? For now it was not on Floran's mind, but something told him there was trouble on the horizon. A strange thing, seeing how the bonds between clans were only getting tighter. The great alliance between wolfrahg and Karill that was to become reality in but a few days was perhaps one of the greatest telltale marks of this.

But Floran simply couldn't shake the feeling that something was incredibly off.

After setting up camp for the night, Floran left the company of the other mercenaries to head into the area surrounding the tents. He knew this area, and it had some amazing sights to see if you knew where to look. Floran himself enjoyed a clearing close to a stream where he could quickly refresh himself. The clearing itself provided solace to the mercenary, a well-deserved peace of mind which he gladly filled with some training. Floran personally believed the best progress was made when one was in the perfect state of mind.
Floran undid his blade of the leather scabbard that envelloped it. He closed his eyes for a few seconds, feeling the weight in his hands before he started moving. His footwork was precise, quick and efficient. His arms swung his blade with force and velocity. There was no grace to Floran's movements, just stone hard efficiency. Floran knew better than to let aesthetics get in the way of his survival, unlike many of the fools calling themselves warriors these days. He had met too many who would rather be a performer than a warrior, and had gotten their heads bitten off because of it. Not many had ever heeded the man's warnings, but he would heed them himself.

After having built up a good sweat, Floran judged his own performance with satisfaction. I need for a bit of cleansing, he started heading towards the water close by. It was then that he was stopped by a sudden shout that pierced the silence. "Damn the beast-faced Abaneki!" It obviously wasn't directed at him, however. Thus, Floran decided to slowly approach and keep a low profile, just to make sure his presence wasn't unwelcome. He could see a multitude of figures in the distance, maybe seven or so, walking past his position by about fifty or so meters. Their faces were turned away from him, but their voices were audible.

"We strike the second day of the gathering?" One of them asked, sounding somewhat intoxicated. "I thought it was the third, that comes after four, right?" One of his allies smacked him on the back of the head, telling him to keep his voice down a little. "Yes, the second day, numbskull. We get in, kill the chief and his heirs the moment we can get them alone, and bolt. No looting, no playing around. Just a quick in-and-out. I'm not saving your sorry arse from the guards this time..." At this point the voices faded into the distance.

Apparently Floran had been right about trouble brewing, though this wasn't what he had in mind.
As he emerged, he could see another figure from the distance, appearing from behind a rather large boulder. Perhaps he hadn't been the only one to overhear. He smiled a little as he closed the distance and hailed the person he recognized as the Craenak champion. The two hadn't talked before, but after a few months the man was bound to at least recognize Floran's face. "You, your name was Vadik, correct?" He said, not leaving much room for an answer "How interested are you in saving a chieftain?"

Had his father lived, the Clan would have taken the fastest route. They would have descended from the mountains early in the spring, as soon as the frost thawed, passed through Wolfrahg briefly with gifts of rare furs and jewels, then headed straight forward on the road that ran through Abaneki territory.

The old chief was dead though, a new one had taken his place. And Viklaus had never been one for tradition.

They took the long way around this year, skirting at the border of occupied territories on rocky paths that hugged the jagged coastline. The escort was larger this year as well. Viklaus brought along most of the elite hunters and warriors, as well as the soothsayers and the seers in concordance with tradition. However, the Craenak’s new chief also recruited a number of mercenaries with him, having them act as vanguard.

Vadik was very puzzled by move, but he did not question the chief, as per tradition. Viklaus would have done what he pleased, regardless. So Vadik rode in silence, his drax slowed to a trot beside the chief’s. Behind them, the yaks ambled in their formation, backs burdened with offerings as well as necessities for the traveling party. Despite their relaxed pace, they were nearing the harbours of Hollafoth. It wouldn’t be long before they reached the Gathering grounds.

Just as soon as the tree line of Roanwyn’s territory ended, Viklaus signalled for them to make camp. While others scrambled off to follow the chief’s orders, Vadik remained idle. It was not his duty to participate in many activities of the clan. So instead, he just shadowed his brother, watching as the man walked the perimeter of their camp, deep in conversation with the clan elders. As usual, Vadik tuned the words out, but he couldn’t help catching snippets of the conversation. It seemed his brother was concerned about ‘defensive positions’ and ‘supply lines’, but for whatever reason, Vadik wouldn’t know. Not that he would have cared. Regardless, his brother half-turned and caught sight him hovering nearby. The man looked mildly surprised, even though he really shouldn’t.

“Vadik”- His brother gestured to the nearby campsite- “Go keep the outsiders inline. We need them settled in before sundown.”

Wordlessly, Vadik obliged, right fist over his heart in a curt salute before turning toward his destination. The order was obviously veiled dismissal, but that hardly surprised Vadik these days. Unlike his father, Viklaus had too many secrets, some he wouldn’t even trust his shadow with. Vadik had long given up on the futile task of gauging what went on inside his brother’s head. Instead, he just followed the orders. They were clear-cut and simple, and that was enough for him.

The mercenaries pitched their tents a few steps away from his clan’s. Most were occupied, either entertaining themselves with various games or immersed in chores around the campsite. Many did not seem to acknowledge his presence as he passed, half-hearted glances barely thrown his way. But since there wasn’t really any disturbance, he didn’t feel like he needed their attention either. Vadik quickly concluded his round of the mercenaries’ camp and turned to leave. It was unlikely that Viklaus required his presence at the moment; the man would have summoned him in such case, so Vadik decided to head over to the nearby stream.

It was difficult to get used to, this new freedom of his. He was so used to being the chief’s blade, looming over his father’s shoulder wherever the man walked. Viklaus, on the other, preferred to discuss matters with his advisors in private. In the end, Vadik ended up with far more free time than he knew what to do with. So usually, he trained, counting the beats of his racing heart to pass the time. Sometimes, men from the clan would join him, albeit briefly. They preferred to practice their skills on live targets, such as the captured beasts in various holding pens back in the village. Unlike most lowlanders, Craenak hunters did not rely so much on bows and slings. The clan preyed on predators, fierce beasts with thick hide and thicker blood. Spears and traps were considered more suitable when dealing with these creatures, as well as swords and axes for cornered ones. While Vadik was not expected to join the men on their hunting trips, he still did. These days, at least. Viklaus had other ways to deal with challengers now.

However, the long trip southward had begun to wear him out. His blade felt sluggish in his hands, and worse, his chest ached. Letting out a sigh, he sat down by the water, one hand pressed against the raw scar through the fabric of his shirt while leaning against a large boulder. The old wound on his chest still hurt, sometimes, but the healers kept assuring him time and time again that it had healed. Yet, they had no remedy for those nights when he startled awake in the dead of night, snarling at dreams half-remembered as fire burnt in his chest. He had stopped coming for their help entirely, and hoped that time would work its magic. It had been weeks since that fateful fight. He couldn’t afford to have any weakness. At least, not another one.
He watched amber eyes reflected in the water, and his hands reached for a small shard of topaz hidden in the fold of his shirt. It was rather dull, barely had the glint of those gems that his clan often gifted to esteemed outsiders, but with a leather string wrapped around one end, he thought it would make a fine necklace. Hopefully she would agree.

“…Damn the beast faced Abaneki…”

The loud shout shook Vadik out of his contemplation and brought him to his feet. However, the boulder behind him had served to obscure the vision of the newcomers. They had yet to notice him. The soft grass did much to muffle whatever sound footsteps might have produced, so he couldn’t guess their number. But from muddled murmurs, there might be just more than he could handle alone.

“That beast faced bastard wouldn’t get away this time. Abaneki’s chief my ass, he couldn’t even herd sheep proper…”

“…had it planned. We strike on the second day of the Gathering…”

“…the chief and his heirs… get them alone…”

Vadik creased his brows, but his sword didn’t leave the scabbard. The Craenak champion knew when he was outnumbered. Attacking now, stopping this conspiracy dead in its track was very tempting. While he had little care for affairs of outsiders, Abaneki’s were an exception. The reason for that though, was very, very private. Regardless, a better course of action for now would be inaction. He needed to wait at the Gatherings, where the odds would surely be on his side.

So hidden behind the large boulder, Vadik listened in, trying his best to gather as much information as he was able. But at las, there was not much, aside from what he had already overheard. Soon enough, the conspirators took their leave, the opening fell silent once again.

Only then did he leave his hiding spot, but it seemed another was already there, calling out to him. It took conscious effort to not reach for his weapon instinctively.

"You, your name was Vadik, correct? How interested are you in saving a chieftain?"

He looked at the new comer, and recognized him as Floran, one of his brother’s mercenaries. However, the man’s reputation did separate him from many others, and he did catch the attention of the Craenak’s chief, so Vadik knew a little about the man and his love for honour. He knew not to expect support from the clan in this matter; Viklaus would not act without more concrete evidence of a conspiracy. This Floran might be his only ally in this quest, unless he could somehow alert the Abaneki. How many of them are willing to put faith on a Craenak’s barbarian?

Who, except her?

“Find me once we reach the Gathering.”- Ignoring the man’s pointless questions, Vadik spoke curtly, before turning to leave.

---

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---

The harsh landscape of tribal life is not always a pleasant one. The human clans gather together under the stars, who look down at them knowing that some do not belong in the skins they wear. Around them the world is drenched in magic, some beautiful and miraculous, other dangerous and deadly. Creatures lurk in the dark, to grant both boons and trouble. Still, there is beauty and gifts to be found in those magical places. The question is... will you be brave enough to go seek it?

And so this is where our story begins: more then just a Gathering of Clans, this year beckons in the Gathering of Gods. And with it comes a whole new era of magic and upheaval. Today marks the first day in a long journey that will span the ages. As the sun finally sets over the horizon, the air cools and the evening draws in...

---

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@HowlsOfWinter@McHaggisRaydon@WriteEclair

Your characters are safe among their various camps, lucky enough not to experience the troubles brewing under the surface of this year's gathering... for now.

Numas received information privately

---

@Inertia@Angel Eyes already received, but here as Flydren and Eclair are nearby

As you are speaking, the water around you glistens and takes on an brilliant golden light that illuminates the area around you softly. A quiet, peaceful thrumming fills the air, a hum that almost sounds melodic. What you do with this information is up to you.

---

@AsheVelendar

The scents of foods and the sounds of children at play fill your ears as the sun finally crests the horizon. Luckily, there are braziers everywhere to illuminate your path. You overhear talk as you make your way through the village.

"Yeah not sure who got the better deal. Her or me - this is a nice bearskin but that dress.. one of the best I'd ever made.

"So that's where you got that bearskin! I thought you were too yellow to get it yourself, old man. The old man chuckled at this, unafraid to whack the young man round the back of my head.

"Now now. We've all got our skills and mine is weaving. It's no easy life travelling from Karill to sell my wares this side of the desert. I think I'll settle down this side of it. Living in Karill is no easy life. But that girl - Persephone, her name was, sold to her a few times - wanted the dress very much. For that wedding tommorrow, between the princess and the heir to the Wolfrahg tribe."

Aha! Now you know where your mark will be in the morning...

---

@Melo Floran & @RedDusk
Your presence goes unnoticed as does your quiet conversation. It is easy enough to blend into the shadows as they grow long around you. None of the plotters discovered you were there, and you can rest safe tonight knowing your intervening in their scheme shall be a surprise to them all.

---

@BlackPanther & Ophelia

It is growing dark, and the smell of a fresh hunt has wafted on the breeze towards the cursed forest. A howl on the wind and a flash of shadow among the treeline in the distance tells you to expect company. You're safe for now - but staying out in the open away from the camp for too long will not bode well... Of course, it might mean more game, but do you take the risk for more furs to sell...?

---

@Write
The stew is delicious and the pair of you have a memorable evening together. The breeze catches your dress and it hangs down off the branch at an angle. You go to correct it, placing it back in it's proper place so it doesn't get dirty.

It's then you notice a strange circular indentation on the branch, something you hadn't seen earlier. The shape is too uniform to be natural, though the colour camoflaugues it. What were the chances someone would get up close enough to see it? But here you are. Someone didn't want it to be found... but what is it's purpose?

Skill Check - success

A owl hoots in the distance. It is with a sudden unsettling feeling you realise that is the first animal you have heard in the forest since Narcissa left. Your years among the forests and woods of the world, combined with your knowledge of animals and scouting, means you instinctively know something terrible is afoot in the forest. A magical creature, there is no doubt. What else could cause such a strange, unnatural silence? Something is wrong, and you don't believe it's a coincidence. Did Narcissa get back to camp ok...?

---

@Melo

Narcissa's beauty was the subject of many songs in Karill. It was unsurprising she had so many suitors... but perhaps it would of surprised her that not all of them were human, and not all of them had fallen for her human charms...



It came on the light breeze. A soft humming that was barely noticable, and yet Narcissa felt her limbs growing heavier with each step. Her vision blurred slightly, or at least she thought it did - strange shapes surrounded her, shadows of grey and near-transparent silohuettes of white. They seemed vaguely people shaped, and danced in a slow, rhythmic movement.

It was then she realised the humming was growing louder, and she could make out words - a strange song sung by a deep voice that resounded through the trees.

And the princess was swaying in time with the strange figures, wandering back towards the forest. Except it seemed different - looked different. The ground glowed a vibrant green, and strange flowers turned their heads towards her as she trickled through among the trees. It was as if they bowed to her, and the vines beneath her feet curled away to allow her passage.



They came to a clearing, and the strange creatures encircled the edges of it, seating themselves among the moss. Narcissa kept walking into the center of the clearing, stopping a few steps away from the creature before her, her gazed transfixed.
She knew of magical beasts and creatures, of course. But never had she encountered any from the west lands.




It - he - was eight foot tall, all angles and points and barky. There was a commanding tone to his voice, and upon his head sat a wicked crown, that looked as if it could easily drawn blood. A robe encircled his shoulders and covered his face - you assumed he had a face, at least, but now you wonder if there was only blackness. Two pricks of white from within that darkness peered at you, haunting, and you felt your stomach lurch. Was this really happening? Surely this was a dream.



Some of the strange whispy people were around you in a second, decorating your hair with wildflowers and placing a cloak of pale white feathers around your shoulders. You had yet to gain your power over your body back, but perhaps with enough willpower...

---

Rimguage

rolls a 3 - little information on Narcissa's dissapearance yet. More concerned about Numas

The hooting and howling hardly calmed as some of their number broke off to race ahead into the camp - the younger ones, some of the children following them. His father growled and shook his head - the ages had passed and carved lines in his face, his eyes slightly sunken in his face, but just as intelligent as ever. A usually stern demeneour, in previous years he would never have allowed his number to fall out of line in such a way. But they had always been a passionate and proud people, and it seemed he no longer had the desire to impose his will on them. Not tonight, the day before his son was to be married.

Rimguage turned his gaze from his father's face and off up the slope towards the camp, watching the bairns head into the town. His eyes fell on her golden head of hair - Valerie. It was the first time he'd seen her since....

Well. She looked away and he heightened his gaze, pretending his intake of breath was at the sight of the camp. They had already quite a number of people here, and more to come - Croanak had made camp for the night slightly further out, he could see, and Abaneki were just settling in.

Curious, thought Rimguage, noticing one of the elusive Rusmasra staring at them as they approached. Usually it was the other way around - often the Rusmasra were questioned by the little ones, so curious about what it was like to live so far south. Still, Rimguage had been to every Clan meeting he could, but he didn't recognise this man's face. But that wasn't what interested him... sensitive to the occult, Rimguage could feel the magic eminating off this man.

Well, it shouldn't have been a surprise he was staring... the Wolfrahgs were hardly being stealthy.

A youngster who had headed into camp was running back towards the group, the mass of them now at the Camp's edge.

"Rimguage..." he said, but Rimguage held up a hand, thinking it was about the Rusmasra tribe.

"I will go and see, myself." he said, walking passed the boy with a clunk clunk clunk of his heavy boots as he tightened his armbands. He passed Valerie, and didn't look towards her as he did. His heart dropped into his stomach, but he wouldn't - he couldn't - look back and smile.



"Wow, I wonder how he knew his bride was missing?" commented the runner to one of the young hunters.
"Must be the magic in him..." he began, but Relmir gave him a heavy strike round the back of his head.

"That's your future chieftain and my son you're talking about, boy. Hold your tongue. And you - what did you just say about Princess Narcissa?" Relmir's voice started barking orders and demands at various Wolfrahg clansmen as Rimguage crested the ridge and came to stand beside the stranger.

"I can't say I've seen you round before." Rimguage stated bluntly, his totems clattering around his belt.