[IC] The Faraway Land

[Cuccoruler]

@Darkwatck01

Vert started to prop herself up using the sword she had just gotten out of the ground. It would be heavier to most others, but to Vert it wasn't that heavy, most likely thanks to her inhuman strength. "Why? Tell us the reason for your hatred of this world! Maybe then we can start to understand!" Vert said. These questions were more to know why she had been chosen to eat those people in her town. The warlock could have easily chosen anyone else to eat those people and become a devourer. But no, he had chosen Vert.

"Or are you so vain that you think people would gladly follow you without a reason?" Vert asked, she knew that her words would not be taken well by the others. It sounded like she wanted a reason to join him again, in truth Vert just wanted answers.

[Darkwatck01]

Standing still, he watched the group before him for the reactions of his spell. His breathing didn’t change and from the scar in the armor a little trickle of blood started to flow. All around the beast he saw energy returning as the Prominent Walk of Peace faded away and with it the Zweihander as well. In the middle of all this he waited, he wanted to feel something; thankfully he didn’t have to wait long as a blade punched into the exposed flesh on his side. Like a stone wall he didn’t waver. His hand took hold of the weapon and held it still, almost pushing it in deeper to feel its cold fang breath on the inside.

Fire came next, and with it came warmth, but not from the wound on his side. Instead it came from the warm sting of flame that bashed against back. Lifting his head up in a mix of pain and pleasure from the sensations he smiled followed by a deep laughing that would of made even the most hardened of warrior’s blood run cold. His grip on the blade grew ever tighter, the sound of the metal starting to bend became audible to the Swordswoman.

Next came the slash of the energy of the enchanted blade, crashing into the Zweihander which had already taken from on his back. Still the lightning around the blade bit at the beast causing a moment where his muscles spazzed before the weapon was rebound away. His arm shifting directions snapping the longswords blade to break in two places, one still stuck in his body sticking out a little, the other still attached to the hand of the Swordswoman. Once the feeling had passed, his head lowered, and his hand released its grip on the third piece of the blade letting it drop the earth.

Yet his moment wasn’t over, for from the ground came the flash of light which surrounded his body, over taking his energy. Still he did not waver. Not but a hand full of breaths after the energy attached to his body, which crept under his ‘armor’ turned black. Wordlessly reversing the effects of the soul energy feeding him instead. While he didn’t answer in this state, he instead stood still, letting his own hunger be stated. Turning head to the Elf who looked to be the medic of the group. No words came instead an image to her of his soul, yet it wasn’t a human soul anymore. Twisted by some strange magic which was slowly eating it away and replacing it with something darker. What was once an elf’s soul was slowly being torn to that of a mighty beast’s, this was a sign to her that his Humanity was waning away.

Returning his attention back to the group before him the monster of a man reached into the, now visibly bleeding, wound pulling out the part of the blade which was stuck inside him. The creature’s face twisted in the same mix of pain and pleasure as inch by inch the metal was removed. Once it had been completely freed those who could see the wound saw it healing, closing up and in its dark nature, replace the missing piece of ‘armor’ which had been cut away from before. It was now dawning on the Swordswoman that this armor he had on, was naturally forming, being more akin to Scute with the same quality as the ore’s it mimicked.

Holding up one hand, two finger standing tall while the thumb and the last two fingers folded close, no words came out only a calm breath.

“I have what I need, you will do nicely. And the Scout is a nice trophy.”

With that said his body slowly turned black, blade and all, before fading from sight altogether. The only sign of his presence, a broken Bow and but a handful of arrows marked the last known location of the creature as the words died in the forest around them.

[Thinslayer]

It's the same dream again.

My ears are ringing from the orcs' roaring din. My scalp feels like it will rip off with the force they're pulling on my hair. My mouth is dry and my throat is parched from sobbing. Their disgusting nails tear into what was once pearly skin and draw my blood. I will die in shame.

Then there is a blood-curdling roar, and silence falls. The orcs that were carrying me drop me face-first in the mud and give me space. A pair of giant boots enter the newly formed ring, and as I struggle to put my arms back in their sockets, there is a clatter of metal at my side. It's a knife.

My knife.

"Pick it up," comes a growl. I get on my hands and knees and steal a glance at the speaker. It's an orc captain. He stares hard at me, unflinching, unwavering, yet somehow I feel no coldness in his gaze. He flicks a glance at the knife. "I demand the rite of blood," he declares.

Confused and outraged murmurs ripple through the army. I'm not a total alien to their culture; I know that the rite of blood is a duel to the death, often demanded by a prisoner in a gamble for freedom. They know it as well as I do. And they begin to argue. "She's not an orc," one says. "The captor doesn't get to declare the rite," says another. The captain has none of it. "Silence!" he bellows. I flinch at the sound. "I'll do whatever I want," he continues. "Anybody can demand it. Get up, elf."

My knees are so wobbly, I can barely stand. There is no way on earth I can fight an orc in this state. I couldn't even do it at my peak, not without magic. But then I look into that orc captain's eyes, and I know what he is trying to do. He is giving me another chance. Through his steel glare, there is a flame of defiance in him, a stubborn, unquenchable will to stand against the darkness. He stands alone.

How can it be that he and I, once worlds apart, should find one another so alike, here at death's doorstep? How can it be that there exists in the world an orc, even one orc, that would challenge his brothers' culture so brazenly and without fear? His courage strengthens my own, and somehow, I find myself standing upright.

Perhaps I will not die tonight. If there's even the smallest chance, the tiniest sliver of hope, that there is still something good in this god-forsaken world, I can hope again.

I owe that orc a debt I shall never repay.

[Darkmoon Angel]

Ivan, alongside Kaite and Tiberius, each struck a blow against the creature and the damage was clearly visible despite the being's dark aura. The electricity of Ivan's blade even made the creature's muscles jolt in pain, but something was incredibly off. Without a second to react, the creature made a swift move that sent Ivan back a bit and when he looked down at his sword, it was broken clean in two. "Damn, that was my only good sword!" Though he didn't have time to worry about it as the creature was still standing. In fact, it was laughing, almost as if it enjoyed the pain. The creature then took the half of the sword that was stuck in it and pulled it out, grinning menacingly as it did so, what was this abomination!?!

With a few parting words the creature vanished in black smoke, the forest was back to its eerily quiet state. Ivan threw down the hilt of his now broken blade, he had more things to worry about, like the well being of his allies. He walked up to Zenovia in a calm but urgent manner. "Are you ok? Is everyone alright?" He spoke the last question loudly so he could get a response from everyone.

[Lord Zee]

Tiberius felt the magic pour into his body with great richness. It reminded him of comforts after a hard days work, going home to warmth and filling the belly of food and drink. This however, made Tiberius feel ten times better then anytime he was at his best. It gave him strength in that dark hour, and lifted his soul from the edge of the abyss. His loneliness, fear, and doubt were washed away in a river of courage and Tiberius stood up. He grabbed his sword and without further delay, attacked the foul creature and its darkness.

His strides were not quick enough and before he knew it, Tiberius was watching Kaite fight the warlock by her lonesome. She too, must have been given strength from the ring, it was the only explanation. It all seemed slow to him, he watched the shield be flung at the warlock, only for it to be flung out of the way. Then the creature charged Kaite and they met with a sickening screech of metal. He thought it would continue to attack Kaite but instead it changed course for Zenovia...

Tiberius was nearly at the warlock, his longsword poised for an attack and upon his finals steps he jumped, aiming to hack at the man's neck. Before he was even close enough, the warlock did something he had not been expecting and dark energy barreled forth from him. This wave of force sent him flying through the air and landing hard on his back and head before rolling twice, with his helmet falling off in the process. He was prone, and thinking of how foolish that entire ordeal probably looked. Slightly dazed, he looked up to see Ivan yell something as he charged at the man but his ears were ringing so he couldn't make it out.

He lay there in the dirt for what seemed like an eternity. There was the dim sounds of blades clashing and shouts echoing around him, his group were doing the majority of the fighting, even with the magical boost he had. Tiberius slowly started to regain his senses as a feeling of clarity washed over the area. He looked over to see that Vert was holding the sword that the man had plunged into the ground. Whatever the dark magic that had thrown them into disarray before was gone. Seizing that opportunity he got up once more and charged the foe, battling along side Kaite and Ivan but for every mark they hit, the wounds seemed to heal ever so slightly. Then, as quickly as their foe had arrived, he was gone in a dark miasma.

Tiberius looked around the clearing, making sure the man had truly departed before finally dropping to his knees. He breathed heavily from exhaustion but knew they were not yet safe to rest. His long hair was all over the place and sweat fell from his brow like raindrops, but he was fine for the moment. He only cared about the others, some were in much worse condition then he was. Looking around at them with his amber colored eyes he spoke aloud, "We need to go, this position is compromised and who knows what else is coming our way." He paused, getting to his feet in the process before continuing, "I fear we have a long night ahead of us.."

[Hawlin]

Driving upwards, Kaite felt the weight of ten foes upon the 'Discerned Lance'; the technique lifting the figure a meek half a foot in the way of dragging them across the ground with sheer momentum. Concluding with an ultimatum in the way of a defeated groan, the knight reached her limit. Whatever there was for a blessing that Eru could give, the shallow frame of the half-elf could not possibly give another inch.

A firm grip and strength would pale as the blow struck true.
Though voices opened the visor to cry out in tens out souls' resolve, the expression from the meat within called 'Kaitra' held bags under her eyes like bruises which framed her bloodshot eyes. Worry paved the way into her soul; the infamous knight crumpling and holding on as if their life depended on it as they recoiled from their blade being torn asunder.

While form was enough to hold their grip level on the handle and heft, Kaite held to the bitter end with little more than a hold on a bent quarter of a blade. What a knight would call a tool, the old black knight of Ispar saw as a waste.
All fell away as the now understood 'skin' healed even her most desperate and determined strike. Even more insult was added as the creature stole the last bit of her sword, leaving the knightress with a mere handle and half a blade.

Dashed low upon the rocks of humanity, Kaite motioned to chase the darkening figure before they faded. However, a meek stumble ensued, revealing the last ounce Kaite had to give as she brought herself to stand one last time in the exchange. Managing little more than to fall into where the figure was and drive what was left of her sword into the soil.

...

The creature was gone, and purpose was lost, leaving Sir Knight Kaitra J. Elzbrn to herself. The knight crumpled to the ground with warmth on her back.
It took a moment with Laina's spell to pierce the husk named 'Kaite' that dragged itself into the space that was once the warlock's visage.

Healing spells' resonance sang with Kaite's groans as she tore away at herself.
A grip of the helmet's eye-holes threw it into the ground and hands continued to grip and pry armor plating. Light left the armor as she cast it off, leaving her in the blood-stained rags she wore underneath. She ached all over, but at least the burn of the scattered armor was subsiding.
Kaite panted, lifting herself to stand enough to undo the greaves and then fall to their hands and knees. A last desperate attempt was made to frivolously kick off their boots before collapsing in to the dirt and rolling over onto her back. She steamed with the black mist that seemed to rise from the fresh blood, her breaths slowing as she could manage little more than let the armor's curse reclaim her.

In response to Ivan's question if everyone was alright, Kaite lifted an arm to offer a weak wave before easing it back down to her abdomen. She'd never been in worse shape, but the creeping chill of the black mist assured her that she would live to fight another day...though she so desperately wanted to be wrong about this assumption.
"Go where...Tiberius? It found us in- nngh...th' middle 'a nowhere" Kaite growled, mostly trying to think of reasons not to get up. "If 'e wanted us dead...well, y'know" she added, her mind starting to wander as she couldn't bear to think of the humiliation the 'champions' had endured. What the creature wanted with the chunk of her sword or the others, she couldn't begin to imagine, but she didn't figure it mattered too much at this point.
Its interest in Zenovia was something to note, and it made Kaite wish she took the time to get to know her new crew in the hopes of having the slightest clue. 'They-who-I-know', Vert, was an easy one since the figure that accosted them was likely a bit miffed about one of their own turning coat. Kaite knew that words were exchanged between them, but was a bit distracted in the moment.
Grimly, she was thankful for souls like Ivan and Laina who genuinely try their best to help others for the sake of the act, alone. The concept had long since became foreign to the black knight, but it was still an admirable quality that painted them favorably in her mind, given the circumstance. The warmth of Laina's healing spell wrestled with the chill of the curse, though at least made the sting of flesh knitting itself back together that much more bearable.

[Thinslayer]

{ROUMD}

Tiberius said, "We need to go. This position is compromised, and who knows what else is coming our way. I fear we have a long night ahead of us."
"Go where, Tiberius?" Kaite retorted. "It found us in the middle of nowhere. If he wanted us dead...well, you know."

Xen'Desh, meanwhile, barely registered Tiberius' words as he picked up the broken bow that the Warlock had dropped on the ground. The Scout is a nice trophy, the Warlock had said.
Dionaea Sycamore was our scout. She wielded the bow.
Panic seized him. He looked around the camp for the auburn-haired wood elf. She wasn't there. Horror dawned on him as he realized that he hadn't seen her for a long time during their journey, and considered the possibility that they had left her behind for the Warlock to kidnap. Xen held up her bow and cried out, "Has anyone seen Dionaea?"

There was no ignoring the growing pit in his stomach. The Warlock could have teleported her away, and if so, there was no possible way they'd get to her before anything terrible happened. They were too far from Fellmore and too exhausted. Yet he hated to wait even a single moment longer than he needed.

"Anyone?"

[rush99999]

After their 3 eyed foe had retreated back into the darkness from whence he came, The Storyteller had pulled out his storybook to commit the events of that fight to the pages. They had truly come up against a powerful enemy. There weren't many who could drain away magic like that, such a danger was crucial for a compelling story. It was then that Xen spoke and the curtains The Storyteller had put up to hide the fact that he was in denial over the parting words of the Warlock. "The last time I saw her somewhere between when we roped Vert into our journey and when we left High Council Hill" The Storyteller said "I haven't seen her since". The Storyteller sighed as he began to write of their scout's demise. "If that fiend truly has taken her" The Storyteller added sadly "Then I fear we may not see her again...In this world, at least".

[Rekaigan]

@Darkmoon Angel

---

Her hair stood in excitement as she felt the beast's energy flow into her body, but this feeling was short lived. The monster had somehow reversed her spell, causing her energy to flow toward him. The shaman tried to reverse the reversal, but it was futile. His grip upon her spell was stronger than her own. She had to cut it off as soon as she could. By the time she had cut the spell off, a lot of her magical power had been drained. Zenovia stumbled forward slightly as the spell snapped, leaning on her staff for support. She suddenly felt dizzy and weak, her body exhausted. She didn't really know what happened after she had cut the spell, but all she knew was that the beast had retreated and they were alive.

As Ivan approached her, she heard him say something to her. She could barely make out the words, "Are-- okay?" as she faded out of consciousness, the world going black. She collapsed to the ground in exhaustion, her energy spent from the destructive spells she had cast during the battle.

[Thinslayer]

Subplot

Tiberius Longshadow

The sun dipped below the horizon, streaming deep hues of blue through the night sky. When at last its light vanished, the stars began to peek out.

"Go where...Tiberius?" Kaite had said. "It found us in- nngh...th' middle 'a nowhere." The woman growled with impatience. "If 'e wanted us dead...well, y'know."

Which was a good point. The idea that such a powerful enemy had merely stumbled upon them by coincidence was an improbable one. Worse, the man/beast/thing was quite capable of besting them even with the benefit of Erudessa's power. If he wanted them dead, he could have killed them. Xen couldn't quite decide which was worse - dying at evil's hand, or being used for evil.

The Storyteller seemed more concerned with the more immediate matter at hand, which Xen was grateful for, since it distracted from the long term problems facing the group. "The last time I saw her was somewhere between when we roped Vert into our journey and when we left High Council Hill. I haven't seen her since," the Storyteller said. He bent down to resume writing in his book. "If that fiend truly has taken her," The Storyteller added, "Then I fear we may not see her again...In this world, at least."

Panicked as Xen was, he realized the others were right - Dionaea was long gone and probably dead. Even if one or both were untrue, there was little they could do about it tonight, not with their energy shot and wounds to patch up. A couple people even had broken swords. They weren't in any shape to fight.

So Xen put down the broken bow and put one foot on a nearby rock. "Okay everyone, we camp here for the night. I will keep watch. Laina, supper's on you tonight."

He opened his pack and began setting up his tent. He hadn't heard a faint rustling in the bushes a little ways off.

But Tiberius heard it.

[Darkmoon Angel]

@Rekaigan @Thinslayer
Ivan made a quick movement and caught Zenovia before she could hit the ground. Panic began to set in his mind; Did that thing poison her? Was she ok? Was she gonna die? Ivan didn't have any clue as to what to do. However, after a quick look over, it seemed that Zenovia was just extremely exhausted. Ivan let out a relieved sigh and gently picked her up.

Xen called out to the group that they were setting up camp, let's just hope they don't have another out of nowhere warg attack. Ivan walked over to what was the group's campfire and leaned Zenovia on a nearby rock before sitting beside her. This journey... It would break most people, the group had barely made it through that encounter, but it seemed that their scout was lost for better or for worst. God bless that poor elf's soul.

The best that Ivan could do, is fight on in her memory, fight on to stop this darkness from taking anymore innocent lives. Ivan snapped back to reality of the campfire being started again, now was the time to rest. Ivan looked at Zenovia, to his ring, and back to Zenovia again. "Eru.... I asked you for aid in that battle... And I'm eternally grateful... But now I ask that Zenovia... Has a comfortable and restful night." As he quietly asked this, Ivan looked around at his exhausted and wounded allies, he wouldn't have made it without them too. "And... If its not too much trouble... I wish that for everyone else here... Vert, Xen, Tiberius... Everyone..."

[Lord Zee]

"Go where...Tiberius? It found us in- nngh...th' middle 'a nowhere" Kaite growled, mostly trying to think of reasons not to get up. "If 'e wanted us dead...well, y'know"

Tiberius looked up at the night sky, thinking upon what Kaite had said. She was right of course, that monster had found them not by accident, he was sure of that. But leaving here, the site of a battle, was always more preferable then staying. That was common sense, she should know that. He was about to tell Kaite what he thought but then Xen cried out and Tiberius faltered.

The mans words resonated within him, "The Scout is a nice trophy.." and the knight realized he had already failed his mission. Dionaea Sycamore was gone...

He had just thought she hadn't been up to the mission, that she hadn't believed in herself enough to join them. It had never occurred to him that she might have been taken before it had started. Instead of sleeping he should have gotten to know her! Anything was better then knowing he had the ability to prevent it from happening.

He balled his fists tightly, shut his eyes and whispered to himself, "I could have done something...And now shes gone."

His distressed state of consciousness was interrupted by Xen once again, "Okay everyone, we camp here for the night. I will keep watch. Laina, supper's on you tonight."

With a deep breath and effort, Tiberius got to his feet upon hearing those words. He spoke sadly, "I think staying here is a bad idea Xen, we don't know what else was watc-" His voice cut off as he heard a rustling a ways off from the dark forest. Fearing another attack, he grabbed his sword and took a defensive stance.

[Cuccoruler]

@lord zee@ineffable

Vert had been in a bit of shock at all that had happened so far. The way that creature smiled after being hit as if it felt good frightened her. Whatever that creature was it was something to be feared if they ever saw it again. Next time they saw such a creature it would the best idea to just run. But she was finally able to regain use of her legs again. "This is turning into a tragedy." Vert stated to herself already one of this group had killed. When Xen suggested they make camp she couldn't argue with it. Honestly if the wargs had attacked them in the middle of nowhere then who's to say that they wouldn't attack them anywhere else.

"That, thing that attacked us. If we ever seen it again and we don't feel prepared it would be best to run." Vert stated as she looked to the others and then to Laina. "Don't bother with making anything for me to eat, I haven't eaten normal food since I was human. Last time I tried it just ended up on the floor." Vert said to the others.

She knew the others must be hurting from the killing of one of their comrads. After awhile though she noticed Tiberius seemed to jump up with sword in hand. "You see something?" Vert asked walking towards him.

[Thinslayer]

Meanwhile, just a day away down the road...

The dwarf never even noticed the thud on his roof when the elf landed softly atop it. She'd left her army behind in the foothills to scout out the dwarven forces and their stone fortress at the entrance to the mines of Mengsk. The fortress was just across the gap, and the drawbridge was lowering to let the station commander through. It was now or never. The Captain took a moment to measure the gap, took a step back, and made a running leap. Air rushed past her ears. She flew onto ledge with little more than a rattle. The groaning of the drawbrige masked her grunt of exertion as she pulled herself up, and she dropped behind the commander just as he passed. The escorts didn't seem to notice. The Captain waited for the drawbridge to begin rising before she darted through the entryway.

The guards at the entryway did notice her. "You! Stop right there!" they cried. A smile formed on the Captain's face behind her mask. Perfect. The elf stopped and turned on her heels to face them. One guard took a step toward her. "Who are you and what is your business here?" he demanded. The Captain rested a hand on one hip and studied him. He was tall for a dwarf, and a bit on the lean side. The power in his step and the way he gripped his hatchet told her he knew how to use his weapon. The other guard was trying to stifle the quiver in his boots. This dwarf standing before her had the courage to approach a threatening intruder without hesitation.

Yes, this was a guard she could trust. "I am here to see Lord Amorak," she said at last. The guard looked her over, then back at the raised drawbridge. "You shouldn't be here," he warned.

"You're right. I shouldn't."

The guard stared at her, and she stared right back. She could see the gears turning in his head as he considered how to handle this unexpected turn of events. He was smart to be hesitant, for while he didn't know the elf, he could tell that she was a skilled fighter, and any attempt to arrest her might cost him his life. After a few moments, he took another step forward. "Very well. But I will come with you."

The Captain nodded. "I was hoping you might. Lead the way." The guard motioned to his partner to take position behind her and took her into the heart of the fortress. The main court was a wide-open, yawning enclosure large enough to house giants, and hundreds of soldiers moved through it. A fountain sputtered in the very center, giving levity to what was otherwise a very gray and dull environment. She couldn't help admiring the creative ways the dwarven troops did up their hair and beards, as if they were trying to compensate in some small way for their spartan living conditions. Many of them stared back at her, no doubt with as much curiosity as she stared at them.

"Lord Amorak is through this door," the guard said, drawing her attention to the carved wooden door before them. She turned to the guard and looked him in the eye. "What is your name, soldier?" she asked him.
"Sir Fern."
The Captain dipped her head in acknowledgement. "Thank you, Sir Fern. I shan't forget you." With that, she ducked through the door and shut it.

At the opposite end of the room sat a vast, pompous dwarf at a desk. His fiery red hair was done up in a ridiculous cone, and his beard was split off into four spiral tendrils that ended with beautiful blue bows. His gold-flecked red coat, large as it was, struggled to cover his great bulk, settling for just touching the floor instead of trailing along it as designed.

The dwarf lifted his head. "What the hell?" he barked, recoiling at the six-foot-tall elf coming towards him. The Captain leaned away from the lamp hanging from the ceiling as she drew closer. "It's been a long time, Amorak." Lord Amorak's eyes narrowed, his fear turning into rage. "You! I thought I banned you from ever entering my presence again!"
"Nice to see you too. How's the wife and kids?"
Amorak pounded his fist on the table. "Don't you dare, elf. What do you want from me?"
"Your soul, of course! No, I'm joking. I want to know why you've allied yourself with the Warlock."

Lord Amorak leaned back (or tried to), a smug grin on his face. "What makes you think we have anything to do with the Warlock?"
The Captain sat on his desk and peered at him. "The regular shipments of iron to his tower kind of gave it away."
The dwarf recoiled further, uncomfortable with being so close to the towering elf. "And what business is it of yours? Arandur rules these parts, not you."
She crossed her legs and sighed. "Yes, and Arandur doesn't give a flying rut. When you decided to start doing business with my enemies, your business became my business."

The Captain leaned back on one hand to bring her face closer, so that the dwarf had a full view of her steel mask - and the steely silver eyes behind it. "Come on, Amorak. Get your head in the game. You're better than this. What do you stand to gain from striking deals with the Warlock? Has your race learned nothing from the last war?"

Lord Amorak rose to his feet - a real accomplishment for one so large, driven by such rage that it was the Captain's turn to recoil. "It is because of the last war," he said, his voice taking on a quiet, menacing tone, "that we have willingly chosen to cast our lot with the north. Millions of us perished for your petty cause, and for what? You wouldn't understand our pain, our embarrassment, at having so wasted so many of our short, precious lives. You're just another one of those damn pampered elites. Get out of my fortress, and get out of our lives!"

The Captain rose to her feet and stared blankly at the wall behind him. The dwarves really had forgotten the events of the last war. They'd forgotten how the Fellmoran armies pummelled them into submission, how the elves fought and died to break through to heal their broken soldiers, how the humans rallied together for the postwar reconstruction efforts. The dwarves' memory of that...gone like smoke in the wind.

So the reports were true.

Without another word, she stormed out of his office for the front gates. She failed to notice an assassin hurl a stone at her head to knock her out.

[ineffable]

Laina was tasked with making dinner so she announced loudly.
"I'll go into the woods nearby, close to the camp and gather the food essentials. Be right back!"
She headed into the nearby throng of trees, bending down every so often when she saw an edible plant. A deer was sauntering around in front of her and she quickly drew out her sword. She crept towards it quietly as she sang. Her singing calmed it, as strength flowed back into it's body and it stood still. Laina felt her chest squeezing in and struggled for breath to keep on singing until she was finally next to it. She said a small prayer and drove her sword into it's side. It fell to the ground, lifeless and Laina tried to keep back the tears. This happened everytime she killed an animal. She grabbed a leg and started dragging it across the forest floor, back to the camp.

When she got back there she deposited it neatly on the ground and started skinning it. "If anyone wants to help that would be nice."She said as she winced away from the blood.

[Thinslayer]

{ROUND}

Vert and Tiberius cautiously approached the bush. Suddenly, an elven woman leaped out and dropped to Tiberius' feet. She was tall and lean, and her midnight hair glistened in the moonlight.

"Please help me!" she begged. "Everything I have is in this satchel, and an orc is trying to steal it from me! Please stop him!" Right on cue, a large orc barrelled through the brush, shouting, "Come back here, you thieving little-" He stopped dead in his tracks when he reached the camp.

His face paled slightly, and he reached back to scratch his head.

"Well, shoot..."

[rush99999]

[POST EXPUNGED]

[Lord Zee]

"An Orc and an Elf at this time of night? What next I wonder." Tiberius asked inquisitively before looking at the Elven women.

She was very beautiful, and probably used that to her advantage many times before when caught. If he hadn't known who the orc was that stood before him, Tiberius would have probably helped her, but the situation painted itself- she was in the wrong. He collected himself, Gorman had said something about a thief anyways, and from their little engagements earlier, Tiberius respected him. It would be entertaining to here his side of the story.

He put his blade up against the woman's neck, his expression bare. He flatly stated, "Drop the satchel please. If you are telling the truth, you can get it back."

Tiberius then turned to Vert and spoke, "Search her of weapons. Oh and try not to eat her." He finished with a smile, then turned to Gorman and winked.

"Now, perhaps you could explain what exactly is going on? We've had one hell of a night and I'd prefer it if this conflict could be brought to a close, peacefully."

Tiberius couldn't exactly remember the satchel from earlier but his head was a mess, it still was actually, so he probably missed it. He wondered what had happened to Gorman after they had left the town, now to find him here was slightly suspicious but he doubted it was anything major. It wasn't like the orc had been following them... or had he?

[rush99999]

The Storyteller looked up from his book as Laina returned with a deer and asked for help. Before The Storyteller could reply, the elven woman approached the camp and claimed an orc was trying take her satchel, followed by the orc in question who was calling the elf a thief before noticing the camp he stumbled into. "I'll be with you in a moment, Laina" The Storyteller called over to Laina before turning back to the scene unfolding in front of him. Tiberius had a sword up against the elf's neck and The Storyteller had a feeling that the situation was about to escalate.

[Hawlin]

During the peace while everyone spoke, Kaite gagged once and swallowed hard in response to an old stomach wound healing. She masked an inelegant belch of black mist as she spoke up in response to Xen'Desh. "Nuh, wh-uurf.. was she the-" she managed before the name donned on her as it apparently had for others like the storyteller who couldn't help but share his pessimism.
The knight didn't even need the voices to grate at her heart, such as musings about possibly having done something. It wasn't until a crowd of comically disappointed chuckles edging into her mind finally broke her down; her eye catching the visor of her helmet which had landed open.

Jeering whispers caused Kaite to recoil, rolling over to a side with a groan of "Aahh...gawd" as she pressed her hands to her face. With all there was to wash off, the solitary tear making a quick trip to the earth could have been mistaken as a drop of blood. In silence, Kaite curled up while the knuckles of her left hand dulled as the hue left the darkening flesh under the skin. Nothing was too sacred for the curse, it simply had new bruises to mend.
The sulking persisted through Laina's declaration of leaving to prepare provisions, a bit of her finding it funny how Tiberius was getting all insistent on leaving while others were keen on making the best of it. Given the circumstances, she would have both the audacity and strength to give a good laugh if it weren't for the rustling in the woods being all too real.
"Oh wot now..." she quietly hissed, seeing Tiberius take up his weapon in preparation. It made Kaite feel a bit underdressed for the occasion as bloodstained rags aside, the attempt to fight the previous foe had left most of her gear strewn across the side of the camp and surrounding foliage. Still, 'helpless' wasn't in her dictionary, and with one arm to prop herself up and the remains of her sword at the ready, she was just about prepared enough to be surprised by the woman being chased out of the woods by Gorman.

Simply knowing the orc and his earlier declaration back in town, Kaite was more curious what he was doing with the elf then if the woman had actually been robbed by him. "G-Gorman? Wh-hnf.. what the hell are you doing in th' forrest wi'this tart?" she asked, wiping her face and smearing the tear streaks to make them less noticeable rather than actually clean herself.