[center][b]Here Cometh the Wolves[/b][/center]

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[b]The Guard Post[/b]

Bastian and Rhia's tails flick agitatedly at the lack of communication with them as Saul makes his exit in a huff, Rexel close behind. “Sssissster, they are doing little in the ways of investigation and more towards dessssecrating the dead and encouraging rudenessss from the captain,” Bastian hisses, watching Jellial.

Rhia seems dazed, or at least lost in thought as she stares after Jellial before shaking a frilled head, “No, brother, they do what they mussst. At leassst the large fleshy one ssspringsss to action?” A low grinding rattle comes from Bastian before Rhia pats the crest of his head, “Ssstill brother, perhapsss you can lead the night huntresssss and ranger to the good doctor...”

[hider=Esyllt][i]As the half-breed lizardfolk speak, Esyllt will feel as if the world melts away around her. The lights fade to nothing and she sees herself standing in a field of black. For a moment, there is nothing... Then light erupts before her. A golden form stands tall and proud before her, a spear in hand and scaled armour donned. The figure stands still, before suddenly snapping to attention. Something in the dark surges forth, lithe and deadly, striking out towards the figure. The golden warrior deftly blocks, light erupts throughout the world as they connect, and the attacker is sent sprawling. Again and again it strikes only to be batted away until the warrior's weapon breaks. The aggressor lurches out once more. The golden warrior throws their arms up in defense... and stops the attacking darkness in its tracks. It slowly seeps into its hands, turning gold to rust. The warrior struggles, and seems to succeed as the darkness retracts. It wavers about the rustic warrior's hand, before coalescing into a dark blade, slick with blood. The world of darkness fades with a red dawn, to reveal a great expanse littered with innumerable fallen. The warrior heaves for breath, surveying the dead before breaking out in the first sound since the beginning... bitter laughter. Her vision fades to reveal nothing once more, before a voice so gentle whispers in her ear, [b]The fight of the golden rages on, the terror they thought defeated yet lives. If their struggle continues, the terror will reign where once there was three.[/b][/i][/hider]

Bastian lets out a huff of breath from his snout, eying Jellial and the woman suggesting he not be half-naked. “You are ssstrange people. Tuleria is hot land. You dressss in layer upon layer at home, but here that could mean death.” He taps his light breastplate, being the only thing on his torso aside from scaled flesh. “Even your armour is heavy and too hot. I do not know how you move!” he laughs, while Shia seems to loose a gurgling chuckle, the closest she can produce.

“Brother has a point, if you are concerned of appearance, mayhapsss you ought look outssside once more? Tuleria is a land of many, there is little to sssurprise usss,” she says almost with pride, lizard lips curling ever so faintly. She stops, realizing Esyllt did not seem to be entirely with them, before clicking clawed fingers before the woman's face, “Wake up, wake up. There is a killer to catch.” Esyllt's vision ends and she will become aware of what was happening once more. 

Meanwhile, James clears his throat, “I think I will be best from above. A lot of the buildings have flat tops. If we stay away from rich estates, I could be your shadow, Laenaia, and keep anyone from sneaking up on you.” The male guard nods, “I welcome a King's Ranger. The Hell Hound leadsss them now, I hear... I will lead you, night huntresss.”

Shria flashes a sharp-fanged smile, “If you would have me, I would join you in your investigation, Jellial.”

***

[b]Saul - Clan H'risshrii[/b]

As Saul and Rexel make their way to the home of the lizard tribesman, they notice the transition from the mixed culture to a single one... Where houses were even erects, some seemed lucky to even have walls, leave alone a roof. Many seem to have resorted to implementing great canopies of brightly coloured fabric to block out the sun. Tassled tribework hangings of beads, furs, fabrics and various predatory animal parts hang in decoration and as identifiers. One such identifier, Rexel spies and appears to hustle his step, encouraging Saul along. “Mankiller,” he mutters as if by way of explanation. As Saul looks back, he would see a number of a great number of teeth, human teeth now that he was paying attention, dangling with one of the banners. “One for every victim,” he explains, eyes darting around. It seemed like the Captain of the guards really was uncomfortable here. “Al ot of them, they get in their military career. Foot soldiers, navy men, what do we care if they take a little token?... Some of these guys, though... Well, a lot who come here looking for trouble, and a few who don't... They don't make it back.”

As if by way of explanation, a lizard makes a lazy swipe with claws at Rexel, before bursting into laughter as he jumps away. “Look, just keep your head down, and stay on the main street. They're a little more hospitable if they don't feel like you're snooping in on their territory.”

Keeping to the main streetway, they make it to what seemed like the only truly solid architecture of the area. A great mural decorates the front wall, depicting scenes of epic battles, hunts, ancestral legends and more. A depiction of what great accomplishments members of the tribe had been a part of. At the front entrance, a number of lizardfolk sunbathe, some even appear to be sleeping. Rexel moves to the entrance, only to be barred be two spears lazily shifted threateningly in the way. “Ssssmoothsskin know rule... Only blood and invited may enter,” one drawls out, not even opening an eye. This close, Saul would be able to notice many of the lizardfolks have forked tongues wagging out every so often, testing the air. It would seem far more are aware than they were making it appear.