It was quiet in the woods, almost completely silent, but in the way that only the deepest of deep woods could be. Life here had long since learned to move with caution rather than speed, and to listen rather than to announce its presense. Even the trees were mute, neglecting even to creak and groan as trees in smaller, milder woods normally would. Truth to be told, the silence was deafening. At least to those not accustomed to its impenetrable nature.

Moira had felt numbed by it when first she came here, almost as if she'd been struck by a heavy blow. Then it had made her feel uneasy, paranoid even. She would look this way and that, her forehead moist with tiny beads of sweat, always anticipating a sudden snap or a heavy thud to break the spell. Nowadays she welcomed it. It was her ally, and she too had begun listening, and moving gracefully. No need to wake the sleeping giant. No need to make oneself known.

She was currently investigating an intruiging mushroom, one she had never seen before. It would have looked like any other uninteresting thing to the unwary explorer; brown with a flat cap and thin stalk, but Moira was not unwary. She held one in her hand, turning it this way and that, taking in the details of its appearance. Her breath was slow and shallow, unaudible even to herself, as she sat on her knees and inspected the find. She would have to bring it back to her home in the village for studying, no doubt. She lacked the proper tools and conditions for her to learn anything out here.

Satisfied with the days expidition, she pulled a cloth from her satchel and carefully wrapped the mushroom in it. Having placed the treasure back into the satchel she stood up, slowly and patiently so her knees wouldn't pop. She could not remember which direction she had come from before arriving here, but it did not trouble her. She knew she would find her way back eventually, as she had done many times before. Having stretched out for a few moments, she started walking off over the thick moss. Into the dark depths of the woods.

Little did she know that she was observed.

It was imperative for each knight to have a lady; a knight without lady was akin to a body without soul. To whom would he dedicate his conquests? What visions would sustain him when he sallied forth to do battle with evil and giants?

Thus to every knight his lady, that he alone might name. To each a secret hiding place where he could find his haunting face to light his secret flame.

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For the Lady.

The foe was ascertained, steel-gaze rigidly affixed on the wooden skin, frame silent and still. An iron claw opened, sharp fingers flexing to emit a series of clicks, before the entire gargantuan body was forced into rapid motion, charging as thunderous steps rocked the street and elicited gasps from the puzzled passersby.

A little girl looking up at the willow began to doubt her request.

Steel talons ripped into the bark with dull crunch, the tree's crown shaking wildly as the behemoth tore his way upwards, armored hands forcing hold when none could be found, a shower of leaves and wooden splinters sent flying as the knight vanished in the labyrinth of twigs, a series of breaking bark betraying his unwavering advance. With another final crunch the figure emerged near the top, the armored form crouched on a thin branch that one would have thought to be unable to hold the steel-clad giant's weight.

A mewling intoned, pathetic and frightened, followed by a futile hiss.

The silent gaze lowered itself, coming to rest upon the small feline creature. Slowly, deliberately, the knight climbed and clawed his way across the branch, coming to a halt just before the small beast, which now seemed to contemplate if risking the fall might be safer. Slowly the armored frame crouched further down, claws ripping into the lumber, poised like a predator ready to pounce, neck stretching as the helmeted visage inspected the furry creature on an even level.

The cat hissed, recoiling even further, inching ever closer to the edge.

A claw was ripped from the wood and sped forth, iron hold clasping firmly around the feline beast's neck, ignoring the attempts of futile resistance. Without emitting another sound, the knight released his grip from the branch, momentarily falling freely before impacting on the earth with the free claw ripping into the muddy ground to absorb the landing.

Standing up, Helbronn quietly strode over to the girl, handing over the kitten, alive and intact. The child could only clutch her pet tightly to her chest as she stared up at the armored giant with hesitant wonder on her face, bits and pieces of bark and leaves still clinging to the knight's plates.

"It is done, milady." A harsh voice emanated from the helmet, gaining a metallic grating through the faceplate "Farewell." Giving a bow, the knight struck a perfect ninety degree turn, walking off with an even gait.

Fortunate, that...

Having barely entered this township under the watchful gaze of suspicious guards, with vocal remindings that any attempts at disturbing the good folk would be met with swift justice, already Helbronn encountered a needy soul, staring up at one of the trees specifcially grown for their aesthetics to enrich the street. The owners of these feline creatures that appeared to spontaneousely lose their capability for calculating proper heights seemed to be the sort that derived pleasure from pain...

The knight halted. Tilting his helmeted head, he displayed a motion similar to one trying to listen to the wind, as if hearing something from a far distance. Abruptly his gaze set itself on an inn slightly further off, before his torso aligned itself with the direction. Taking off towards the source, the knight pursued a call no one else could hear.

A rickety paddock, hastily fixed together from fresh cut saplings encircled the merchant’s stock, keeping the dozen or more sickly looking beasts from wandering more the a few yards in any direction. The lush green grass within the enclosure was soon trampled or cropped to the dirt by the malnourished creatures. Forced to stretch their long necks over the wooden barrier they stared longingly at the grazing residing just outside their reach, whinnying pitifully. It mocked them it seemed, swaying back and forth in the early evening breeze, tempting and beckoning them forward to where they could not go. They had just arrived only a few hours past, and there had been no time to graze on the road before. Their owner, a thin man in his own right cared not about his merchandise’s dumb, mournful pleas, instead pitching for himself a tent, and cooking a thin gruel upon a small fire. His hope was that one of the animals he’d invested his livelihood into would turn a profit, from which he might afford a decent meal, or perhaps even boarding in the village, were all but dashed. The unforgiving road left the once fat ponies he’d bought ragged and flea bitten. Their mangy fur and scraggly manes a depressing sight even to his old eyes. At least one boon had been spared him; in his travels he’d captured a stray donkey, which still appeared healthy and strong. Shoveling in his meager meal the merchant stared over at his new prize in rapt curiosity.

The donkey stood well away from the horses, or at least as far as it could get within the confines of the paddock. A wise choice no doubt, for even in their weakened state the larger horses would make quick work of a donkey. He appeared content to stand, pressed against the wooden fence looking about in a most, undonkeyish fashion, as if he was studying his new surroundings. He fascinated the merchant, who upon capturing him found the beast to be unspeakably well trained, almost responding at once to spoken commands. In all his trading days the merchant had seen only some hounds so beautifully obedient. He hoped, down in the dregs of his greedy heart that the donkey would bring not just silver, but gold once folk saw it for themselves.

For Padoof’s part, for that was the donkey’s given name, he wasn’t quite sure what to think of his circumstances. He was hungry, and thirsty sure enough, and hopelessly lost in a strange place surrounded by yet even more strangers. His cousins, the dumb speechless horses were content to leave him be if he kept far enough away, and the merchant had been sparing with the whip. All in all the situation was not optimal, but neither was it dire. Padoof was sure that if he kept quiet and passive all would work out in the end. After all, it worked in the past. The manfolk would ask, he would do, and the shiny rocks would be exchanged and Padoof would have a new owner. Hopefully one that actually fed him.

Extending a graceful hoof he pawed at the dirt, revealing a few roots which he ate in rapid succession, the expected snort sounding within seconds. Padoof retreated as a horse trotted over, snuffling at the spot Padoof was just at. Finding naught it resumed its previous pleading at the border, as if it hoped the fence would take pity and move aside for its pathetic, dejected eyes. Padoof held back a laugh, before scratching once more upon the ground. A new master could not come soon enough.

Running. Heavy footsteps hit against the loose leaves and branches. Heavy breathing. Metal hitting against metal. Panting. The bells at the end of the head scarf ringing wildly. Shouts behind her an arrow graces her hair. Running. Tears rolling down her burning face. She wants to stop. Survive. There's not stopping now.

"Shoot her! Don't let her get away!" One of the shouted behind her as she ducked under a tree branch and continued to run. Salena could head the humans behind her. She could hear their boots against the forest floor. They were getting closer now. She looked around for anyone to call help for. There had to be someone here in this cursed forest. She couldn't be the only one here.

Closer. An arrow nocked behind her as one of the men aimed at her legs.

Salena couldn't use her magic. Not in her state. She had always been talented when she was in control of the situation, but these men had surprised her while she had been in her home. She had been making herb tea when they began yelling from the outside. For a second she thought it was him, but it hadn't been. Instead, it had been half a dozen humans demanding her to surrender. She didn't know them. She didn't know who sent them after her. She just ran. Ran as fast and as far as she could.

Salena hit the floor with a scream. Her arm had twisted under her as she had tried to break her fall. The arrow stuck out the back of her leg as she glanced behind her. No! I can't let them take me! With a groan, Salena broke the arrow and lifted herself up from the floor. She had to get away. It hurt. She could feel the blood running down the back of calf muscle as she continued to run, the adrenaline in her blood making the pain bearable for now.

"Again!"

Salena cried out this time, loud enough for anyone close to their position could hear. This time the arrow had struck her shoulder. She didn't stop running.

"Another!"

The third arrow buried its self on her arm. She could feel the pain now. It was drowning her mind with nothing but the sheer pain on the three arrows in her. She couldn't go on anymore. It was too much for her. She fell as the men approached her from behind. She could hear their heavy breaths and chuckles as they had finall caught their prey. That's what Salena was to them. Just another creature to hunt. To them, she was a mere animal that pretended to act like a human. She dared to have a name. To them, Salena was a demon child, a horned bitch that didn't deserve to die.

"Finally," One of them men said. He had greying blonde hair and carried a sword in one hand. "You're not going anywhere now." He motioned one of the other men to tie her up. The other one nodded and began to walk towards her with rope at hand.

It hurts. It hurts. Salena was panting heavily and her face was pressed hard against a moss covered root. Remember, Salena! Take control! She closed her eyes and pressed her fingers against the dirt until they were buried in the soft and damp dirt floor of the forest. She had the power to fend them off. Just enough to be able to run away and kill them. With a deep breath, Salena gathered all the magicka in her as the roots from the trees around them sprung from the dirt and began attacking the men. They were taken back as the all pulled out their weapons and began to cut down the roots. Salena took this oportunity to begin getting back to her feet. She used some of the roots to help herself up and continued to lipm away from the screaming men. She didn't look back. She knew what she had commanded the trees to do.

Rip their heads off. She had been angry. How dare those humans to come to her home and chase her like she was an animal like she was just sport to them? How could she not command a bloody death? They didn't matter now. Their screams had stopped a while ago, and now the only thing Salena could hear was her rapid shallow breaths as she moved through the forest. She reached back and broke off the two arrows with a small wince. She was loosing too much blood now, and her home was long way back. She wouldn't be able to make it on her own. Maybe if she could rest a bit and gain back some magicka, she could heal herself. Yes. Rest sounded very nice right now. Just close her eyes and--

"You!"

Salena turned around to see a bloodied man with a sword pointed at her. One of them had survived. Just one. Salena shook her head and backed away from the man. "Get away from me! I'll do it again! I'll use my magic on you," she warned. She had no more magicka left. She had been running for so long that she had used most of it to give her more stamina, but now it was all gone. She didn't have any potions to help her recover her magicka. She was all out of options. Help. Mireyela, please help me. Someone. Salena pleaded as she limped away from the man with the grin on his face and a sword in his hand.

Addressed: @Rodiak


For the Lady.

He followed the Call. The Call that was heard by none but him. He knew not where the Call led, he knew not what the Call demanded, but he was knight, and follow the Call he did. Perhaps eventually it would lead him to the Lady, but thus far it only ever led him towards Purpose. What was the difference? He could assume, but he could not tell. So long as it served, he would comply.

The knight's iron-gaze fell upon a battered cambion and a bloodied man.

Slowly, deliberately, Helbronn marched towards the debacle. Paradoxically, he appeared to emit no sound, not a single clink of metal or step, not even a single twig or leaf breaking underneath his pace. To some it might have appeared as if he was simply striding without effort, a bizarre sight unbefitting such a massive frame, but in truth each and every one of his steps was precise and efficient, allowing no waste of energy or space as he walked in eerie silence.

The battered cambion limped across the forest-floor, feet clumsied by blood-loss and fright, the bloodied man menaced upon her, sword in hand, self-satisfied grin upon his features.

The scratched-up bandit advanced, barking another threat, readying to strike down the cowering cambion.

With a resounding CRACK Helbronn's final step impacted with force upon the forest-floor, the wood underneath his boot giving a resounding tearing-sound as he came to a halt directly behind the man. Turning around in surprise, the bloodied bandit gave a shocked wince as he suddenly noticed the armored giant that for all he knew just appeared out of thin air a few paces from him. Staring up at the towering knight, the man froze in uncertain fright.

Returning the man's confused gaze with baleful iron-sight, the knight only spoke with a dry snarl "Cease. Desist." before resuming his stride, forcing the man to step aside, lest he be stepped upon.

Leaving the stupefied man behind, the knight marched towards the wounded cambion. Coming to a halt before the horned humanoid, the helmeted gaze scanned the broken arrow-sticks poking out of her crimson-stained flesh and cloth. These would require surgery, followed by weeks if not months of constant reapplication of linen and honey.

"Damsel." he addressed the cambion, tilting his head as he scrutinized her "Maiden. Hail. I am I, Sir Helbronn, knight of the Lady." his harsh voice sucked all that could be deemed as welcoming from the greeting "Would you enlist me, accept my aid?"

It took the bloodied bandit behind the knight a few more seconds to catch himself, one hand tightly clutching his sword as he bellowed over "You- you'd side with a tripple-fucked horned hell-whore who'll backstab you the first chance she gets?!" the hesitation slowly left his voice, replaced by anger originating from a hunter that was about to have his prey snatched from him.

"Yes." came the simple answer from the knight, helmeted gaze remaining affixed upon the cambion, not deigning to waste another glance upon the bandit.

Momentarily taken aback by the apparent innoculousnness of the answer, the man ground his teeth "That horned bitch is a murderer! She killed my mates! And now that I have her cornered, about to get some justice, you get in my way!"

Helbronn spoke "I know, one that advances upon another locked in fright with sadism in sight rarely does so with any good right. You have a sword, she does not. You have most of your blood, she does not. It is not the responsibility of knights errant to discover whether the oppressed whom they encounter are reduced to these circumstances and suffer this distress for their vices, or for their virtues." his voice held no malice, and even its usual dryness was diminished, replaced with conviction "The knight's sole responsibility is to succour them as people in need, having eyes only for their sufferings, not for their misdeeds."

The man was seething now, sword twitching in his hand with building rage overriding whatever instincts might have told him to flee from the knight, the armored giant that resolutely kept his back to him, not even bothering to address the bandit with his sight. Glowering in silence, the idea that with the cambion obviousely incapable of throwing her remaining lot into a fight, all he really would have to overcome was the arrogant errant with his back to him was forming in his anger-hazed mind.

Slowly, with silence practiced by years of robberies, the armed man advanced upon the duo, intent on finishing the job he set out to do.

There was no sound as he approached them. Salena stared past the man who wanted to rip her to shreds and stared at the man covered in metal. No... He wasn't a just a man. He couldn't be. His voice didn't sound human, nor his movements look human. Everything was calculated as he walked past the human and towards Salena. Every step and every word seemed like a command like he only existed to follow.

She was afraid. Afraid that the strange man would hurt her, but his words told her otherwise. "A-aid?" So this Sir Helbronn would help her? If he wanted to help her, he would have done so now. He would have struck down the human and just ended it there. Salena had already lost too much blood, and she was starting to feel the cold creep in her. She didn't have time to doubt the words the man covered in metal, so she nodded her head slowly.

"Yes, I accept your aid," she said though shallow breath as she fully turned to look at Sir Helbronn then the man that had started to advance on them. If this was a joke from the humans, she would laugh as the killed her. If it wasn't and the strange man did kill her pursuer, she would laugh. "Kill that man, Sir. Kill him-- make he suffer. I want him to know the fear and the pain I felt while he and his pathetic friends chased an innocent woman." She commanded as she looked past Helbronn to stare at the human's face.

Their little group of murders had arrived at her home that morning. They had threatened to burn her in her own home if she didn't come out. Salena had followed their rules and had come outside prepared to fight them off if she needed, but those bastards had set up a magicka blocking spell around her home. They knew who she was. They knew what she had been capable of. That is why they had chased her and wore her down. Make her use all of her magic to fuel her stamina. The archers hadn't shot her to kill her. They had threatened to but never made a move. They had wanted her alive, and now they were all dead. All except for one.

Salena started at the man who stared back with malice. He wasn't fooling anyone. He was afraid. She could see the way the sword in his hands shook and the way his breath had quickened. Something in Salena made her feel overjoyed to see the human who had been so excited to see her fall or be tortured now cower at the sight of the Sir Helbronn.