[b][u][Center]Here Cometh the Wolves[/Center][/u][/b] [Center]Jellial, The Wind and Esyllt Boudica[/Center] --- Jellial elected not to talk to the lizardmen, as was requested of him, until after he had returned to his human form. The creatures were acting oddly reverent to him in his bestial form, and while it flattered him, it excited the beast. He didn’t need another synapse ticking away at the beat inside which already clawed for attention and power and demanded control. No, human form would have to be enough for the lizardmen. It took him no more than a minute to re-don his clothing. He had pilfered a pair of guardsman’s trousers and, while they itched a little, they would suffice. He could repurchase quality at another interval. For now, he would deal with it. At least his shirt was undamaged. He could do with losing a pair of trousers or two, but the shirt held a certain amount of sentimental value. Not the ideal attire to wear for a werewolf, but when he’d heard he was going to be returning to Tuleria, he had decided that fate might deem fit to reward him with a visit to a certain woman of importance to him. Now, it seemed, he was being given that chance. He hadn’t even had to do any convincing, as the group were content to send him off to see the city’s pack. Would she be there? Hard to say, but fate had toyed with Jellial often enough that it was a distinct possibility. “ Bastian, Rhia…” He called over to the two lizardmen, using his tongue now to speak, as opposed to his mental mastery. He needn’t disturb them with private conversation now, everyone would need to hear this. “...Can you have a look at the body for me? I want to exonerate your people, I share a blood bond with one of them and his safety is of great importance to me. Que’la’Quin is his name: perhaps you know of him?” Her sudden vision had Esyllt out of touch with what happened in the room. Half the people had already left, including Saul, which gave the young woman a bad feeling. Esyllt had little time to make sense of what had happened, or her vision for that matter. “I beg your pardon.” She stepped backwards, creating distance between herself and Shria; her licking of her fingers put Esyllt on her guard. She barely managed to refrain reaching for her blade. Was that the language of a predator, or perhaps her vision had Esyllt riled up. The wells of power foreboded little good... Shivers went down the woman's spine; a sensation she'd not expected to feel in this hot land. When Jellial returned shortly, he took upon him the request of asking the lizardfolk to do the matching-claws test. Esyllt, vaguely beginning to recall the topics of conversation during her vision, in turn she took off her jacket and took another sip from her water. Bastian impatiently clicks his nails against his belt as he stares at Jellial, unamused by the request. Rhia looks side-long at her brother, before bowing her head, “Apologies, moonbeassst… But it is beyond my brother and I to desssecrate the body more. We have looked at the body already. It is… Peculiar. The good doctor, though he believesss… Believesss it is beassst, there ought be other marksss, if it were kin or lycan. The only thought to come to mind is a lycan who sssought not to turn them by fang, yet is carelessss?” Bastian lets out a grinding cackle, “Oh yesss, they mussst only wanted to tassste!” Rhia shifts in apparent embarrassment, the flesh peeking out from scales about her face flushing, “Jussst a thought, brother. We are as cluelessss as them. This is such a strange happening…” Jellial nods at the response, seeming apathetic at best towards Bastian’s response. “I thought that would be the case.” Looking now towards Rhia, he bows his own head lightly. “...and please, don’t bow your head. I’m not worthy of adoration and I certainly don’t pretend I am.” He offered a slight nod, before turning to the Esyllt. “Well, at least we form the most attractive pair.” He offered her larger smile than he offered to the lizards. “Now, let us be off. It has been a long time since I’ve seen my kin.” As they make their way through Port Luclin, they slowly find themselves leaving the core of the hustle and bustle as they near the outskirts. The buildings grow less cramped and the menagerie of cultures battling for control ease up to something more unified. Indeed, it would seem Tuleria on its own did have some semblance of their own being when not vying with the constant locomotion of foreign trade. The buildings begin to look less and less flashy, instead aiming for structures both utilitarian and long-lasting. Many of the houses begin to appear abandoned. Jellial would know that is because of these buildings, many of the residents failed to stay in one place for long. Truly, they were more like temporary boarding houses for those who drift through. Amidst the scattered houses, the two would be unaware of the shadow following them. The individual weaves between buildings skillfully, well aware of every facet they can exploit in their hunt. In time, more join the first, swift and silent. Jellial would recognize instantly as he passes into the currently established pack territory, the scents flooding him as warning. Crossing that invisible line, though, seemed to be all the warning the accompanying shadows needed, as in an instant, the first lurches forward, behind Esyllt and presses a hand over the woman’s mouth and a knife against her back. “Not a peep,” the feminine voice growls, low and threatening. This seemed a nastier side of Luclin. For all it's glory it shew up front, the port's dark underbelly surely was nearby. Esyllt quickly realised this was a bad neighbourhood, and not for it's architecture. [I]“Jellial, we're in danger.”[/i] Esyllt warned Jellial telepathically, the instant she was suddenly grasped from behind. [I]“A woman with a knife has me in a hold, please do not act rash.”[/i] Esyllt asked of Jellial. Calmly she complied to the woman's threat, not making a sound or move. However, the assailant had pressed her bare hand against Esyllt's skin which allowed Esyllt to read her surface thoughts... Snarling bestial thoughts meet Esyllt, mingled with a great protective urge and concern. For what, she cannot tell. Trying to plunge deeper or sort through the cursory emotions to determine more seems of little use as the human woman is met with a barrier of resistance. It could stand to reason that the aggressor is used to such intrusions on her mind… To the point she understands exactly what had just occurred. The knife presses closer, beginning to bite into flesh and draw blood. “OUT OF MY MIND,” the heavily accented command rings out as Esyllt is forced out. The beings on the edges of the street crowd forward. Jellial and Esyllt both would be able to see their silhouettes. Many of them appear to be that of small and agile figures. However, even from here, they could see looming shapes twisted in resemblance of animals. From them, the occasional glint of predatory eyes focus. The eyes of the attacker flicker up to Jellial, “Has this woman forced you to lead her here?” Jellial had been perhaps slightly less respectful of the danger that Luclin could pose, not only to himself, but to Esyllt. He had been lax in any cautionary spells in that he hadn’t cast any, and he was foolishly caught off guard by the feel of Esyllt speaking to him through telepathy [i]”So you can use telepathy as well...useful to know.”[/i] Not wanting to act rashly, Jellial seemed to sway a single finger through the air as he cast the most basic of wind magic spells. A light gust, barely a touch, blew from behind Esyllt and her attacker and wafted the scent towards Jellial. It took him a second to filter out Esyllt’s own smell, but as soon as he did… The question from Esyllt’s attacker confirmed it: Jellial knew that voice almost as well as he knew his own. He turned to face Esyllt and the attacker, defying Esyllt’s request not to ‘act rashly.’ Converse to expectations, Jellial was smiling, at least until he spotted the small trickle of blood at Esyllt’s throat. At that point, he had a slight pout on his face, as if he were mildly confused and a bit mystified. “Maylene, you are wrapping your arms around the wrong person. She is a guest and I bring her to the pack out of choice. Stop making a mistake by aiming your aggression at the woman who is helping me clear the pack’s name.” Maylene hesitates for the briefest of moments before releasing her hold with a huff of breath, “How was I to be certain? Whoever is doing this is not beyond treachery to get what they want.” Surveying Jellial and establishing that he really was alright, she allows herself to relax, drawing the face-wrap down. “Besides, you arrive in Tuleria and show up with some strange woman in the middle of all this, I needed to be sure.” The werewolf rogue flashes a sweet smile to Esyllt, “Forgive the rude greeting. Perhaps my time abroad has made me… Rougher, of late.” “That is... Understandable.” Esyllt wheezed for air. She tore a piece off her cloth to make a light bind to her wound, merely to stop the bleeding. Esyllt took a breath to collect her thoughts, more than by Maylene's grasp, she had been taken off-guard by the woman's ability to not only recognise, but even dispel her telepathic ability. Never before had anyone managed to do either. Jellial could only chuckle at Maylene’s brief exchange. Was she perhaps a bit jealous? For a moment, the wind-mage felt himself grow ever fonder of the old flame. “I arrived with a number of strange people. I think Esyllt here was the least strange of my small group.” He flashed a small grin before taking a few steps towards the two women. “All of this though, we can discuss in the privacy of the pack’s hall. Introductions are in order between the two of you though.” Jellial was directly next to both of them now and from the closer view he could appreciate their contrasting beauties. Esyllt was a picture of refinement and elegant education: not unlike a tended rose. [Url=http://i1066.photobucket.com/albums/u410/Limeyreptile/Yamaoswitchwithlessboobs.jpg?t=1396720002]Maylene[/Url], on the other hand, was a wilder beauty. She was dark skinned and beautiful and savage in her intensity. The wind mage suddenly felt himself very lucky. “Esyllt, the woman who nearly slit your throat is Maylene Morvyn: Werewolf, thief and beautiful rogue, extraordinaire. Maylene, this is Esyllt, a fellow member of the Queen’s blades, and sadly, an enigma to me in nearly every other respect.” “I apologise for that, Jellial. I have not yet been able to reciprocate your kind gestures. I would gladly tell you more about myself at a more appropriate time. Now, our mission takes priority.” Esyllt said to the wind mage. She was jealous of the lofty way Jellial carried himself, Esyllt herself had it hard to present herself properly in the face of the new experiences and people, not to mention the danger and importance of their mission. “Esyllt Boudica, knight of Edmundal, currently in service of the Queen's Blades. Pleased to make your acquaintance.” Esyllt made a small bow, although clearly not most at ease despite Maylene's smile. Her eyes drifted to the silhouettes... Were all these werewolves? With every passing hour she seemed to become more aware of how lost she was in Tuleria. “I know little of this country's affairs, forgive my ignorance.” “It is not your fault. You have not lived amongst the people, and I doubt you know much of our lands. Perhaps that is a failing on your superiors for having not told you,” she crosses her arms over her chest and levels her gaze on the both of them, “You are of this Queen’s Blades. The business I have heard you had gone to Renalta for, Jellial. I can only assume, given your words… I am sure you are here not for pleasure and fun…” She crooks her head down the alley, “You are right, we ought be somewhere more private. With the pack, while they are here… The packmaster is anxious, and for good reason. I have done what I could to learn more, but too many things are being said along the vine and all conflicting. Regardless, if you are both ready and can hold your questions… Should we be off?” Jellial nods quietly as both women speak. It was good that Esyllt seemed to abandon any potential ill-will against Maylene, for if Jellial had to choose between his kin and his duty, it would be a very difficult choice indeed. “I’m about ready to be out of here. Sooner we can speak to the pack leader, the sooner we can fix this situation.” In truth, the wind-mage was conflicted. Being home was more than a pleasure to him, especially with the reunion between the two werewolves: but he knew the longer he was here, the more dangerous it was becoming for his pack. He could only remain while the mission was unresolved. Esyllt nodded in agreement. “Please, lead the way.”