In the late of spring, as fruit trees began to drop their flowers and the green foliage for the summer grew thick, the peoples of the Silver Wood normally should have been preparing for festivals. Instead, this year, they wondered if they’d live to see the harvest. News and refugees had been flood south all season, bring tidings of a powerful war leader from the north. Most claimed it was his armor of warriors armed with the metal weapons of old, who had defeated every tribe who had stood before him but others whispered that he was a returned magi, come to destroy the world again and it was his magics which had won all the battles.

Swift runners from the Wolf Tribe had traveled between the trees, baring the carved sticks used to summon a council, to every village, every cave and every camp. Never in living memory had so many invites been sent out. Normally only small groups would be called forth, to deal with problems in sections of the wood, mostly when wars got out of hand and started effecting neighboring tribes. The council would force the two factions to find a way to end the conflict or at least restrict it to their own people. Not this time though.

No, this time, all of the peoples of the great Silver Woods would gather and talk among themselves, until some plan was made to protect themselves. They had to, least they be divided when the man known as Blackthorn arrived in their homes, visiting with fire and death. No tribe had ever been able to stand alone before him but could the tribes and clans of this forest stand together? So many years of raids and feuds, had driven deep wedges between them.

Thunder Walker sighed softly, as he sat beside his son, the final preparation for the grand council finished. The hollow in the middle of the Silver Woods was lined with soft, buckskin blankets, the fire pit was filled with logs and woven grass baskets filled with food were placed around the ring. The sun slowly set and the twilight filled the trees with mists, clinging to branches and swirling around the hollow. The slight light of the blue hour, turned the world into a surreal dance of shadows. High above them, the clear full moon appeared in the darkening sky, the first of the night’s stars twinkled faintly in the heavens.

“The hour is near” said old Red Stag, the medicine man of the Wolf Tribe, as he worked a fire bow, to light the tinder among the logs. Unlike the rest of the men with Thunder Walker, his white hair was not cut into the mohawk, but remained long and loose, with feathers or quills tied among the strands. He was much too old to be warrior anymore. He also was dressed different, remaining in winter garb (leggings, breechcloth and a buckskin shirt), rather then summer garb of just a breechcloth.

Deer Stalker shifted slightly, as he rearranged how his legs were crossed. It was more a nervous fidget then an attempt to get comfortable. He had never been to a council before and felt rather naked with only his knife. What would he do if those wretches from the Eagle Tribe showed up with tomahawks, with his weapons left an hour’s walk from this sacred hollow? More then likely, he would die, several of the axes buried in his chest, thrown by cowards (who rightly feared his prowess).

“I wish they’d hurry” grumped the chieftain’s son, as he rubbed at his stomach and the fire took to the logs. He hadn’t eaten since morning and they had to wait for a majority of the rest of the tribe to arrive, before they could starting eating the food the Wolf Tribe had to provide.




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A hollow whistle broke sharply through the tense silence between father and son, a sound usually meaning that there were outsiders approaching the tribe's outer limits, and were soon to arrive within their walls. A long awaited signaling the soared through the tall trees above, the first real sign of hope for their growing problem in the war-torn south, to stand against whoever this mysterious Blackthorn was and drive back his followers towards whatever trench they made their way out of.

People watched subdued as the foreign visitors passed through, not entirely ceasing their daily duties but still sparing glances some here and there at the small elven group that came from a tribal faction within the Silver Wood, called the Serene Forest. Standing forefront of the small representing commodity, Winona stood proud with her head held high and her staff gripped tightly in her hand, her snowy white hair falling behind her in a countless multitude of small braids and threaded through with large, quail feathers. Her eyes never once left the path as she marched alongside two of her tribe's deftly handed archers, who wore cured leather clothing that clung snugly around their lithe forms for an easier motion, and following behind them two of her tribe's bravest warriors, their leather-armored bodies slight and muscular beneath the cured deer pelts.

When they came to the circularly arranged blankets, the ever calm-looking provision stopped some ways away as Winona stepped forward and fell onto her knee before the great chief. "Chief Soris sends his regards, honorable chieftain, he has been currently taken under ailment and was otherwise unable to attend without endangering his health further. In his place I stand before you, the head priestess of our clan of the Serene Forest, I am called Winona. It is good that we finally meet, Chief Thunder Walker."

Pyra walked quietly through the trees. She followed with the others as they made their way to the meeting. While not part of a tribe Pyra was recently part of a hunting party for a refugee camp. She arrived at the camp five days ago. Pyra had entered at a good time. A party was being organized to hunt a feline creature that had taken two children from the camp in the last three days. The beast was aggressive and needed to be taken care of. The hunting party set off and after three days of tracking the oddly spotted large cat was killed and dragged back to camp. Her spear and keen eyesight had aided that party well. Pyra was almost ready to push on when the invitation had a arrived. Most of the refugee camp was there because of this new threat, this man and his weapons. They immediately formed a group to set out for the meeting. Pyra went along. They were a mixed lot of various tribes and clans that were displaced, Pyra's presence did not seem out of place.

Pyra kept her eyes on her surroundings as the group pushed on. Overall they were a small band, only three men and one other woman besides Pyra. The camp couldn't afford to send many of the better hunters. They were a large group to begin with. After all it was a meeting to discuss the threat not head off to war against him. At least that was what the camp assumed when they decided on whom to send. Pyra just used it as a reason to leave and there was a chance with so many to possibly attend that she would overhear some useful information. "At the very least a lead to a hunting party looking for a keen eye...." Pyra reasoned in her head. It was all the kept Pyra going now a days. Two years of existing in one hunting party or another. Selling her spear for food and a bit of shelter when the weather was rough.

The party arrived at a great clearing. Others had already arrived. There was a group of elves taking their seats. The head of Pyra's group went to chief to give his greetings. The others found a place to sit. Pyra frowned. Taking a seat near a tree she did her best to get a good view of the others who were arriving. Pyra took a moment to look over the members of the Wolf Tribe who had called the meeting. The chief sat, his white haired medicine man in his winter gear and a younger man sat with him as well. The younger man was tall, even sitting. His raven black hair was cut into a mohawk.

Pyra turned her attention to the elven tribe. A group of them sat with a white haired woman. She was small in stature and her headpiece impressive. It would appear that she was in charge. The group situated themselves as others began arriving as well.

In her oddly mixed company Pyra would be able to blend into the shadows and not be missed. Likely those she travelled with would not remember her name. Pyra looked around marking her best ways to sneak away should nothing of importance come up from all of this. With the ways out marked in her mind, Pyra turned her eyes back to watching those that sat and those that were still arriving.

Nine Killer stepped quietly between the trees, the wind whistling softly above his head. The deciduous forest of the Wolf Tribe was calm, almost serene. A branch snapped somewhere behind Nine Killer. Without making a sound he swiftly put a large cedar between himself and his stalker.

A raspy whisper came from where the branch snapped, "Nine Killer?"

It was his War Chief, Flying Weir, carrying something large wrapped in cloth. Lowering his spear, Nine Killer stepped out from behind the tree, "I am here, War Chief."

The scarred face of the War Chief broke into a smile, "I hope I did not disturb your hunt, cousin. I go now to the sacred place of the Wolf tribe. With your father acting as War Chief for the village while I am gone; you will be my Second. Do not dishonor the Jaguar Tribe."

Nine Killer lowered his head in respect. "I will honor our tribe, I will not fail you."

"Good. Your father wanted me to give you this when you became Second." Flying weir set the cloth wrapped bundle on the forest floor and started making his way to the Wolf Tribe's sacred place.

Inside the cloth was a large, worn tortoise shell with turquoise stones and shards of obsidian set in it's edges. A large strap made of sinew allowed Nine Killer to wear the shield on his back.

after admiring himself in a small puddle, the new Second of the Jaguar Tribe started towards the encampment some fifteen minutes from the sacred place.

Taking one look up at the rising moon, he knew they would reach their destination soon. They had been traveling for days, he as clan leader had orchestrated the event which caused a minor uproar. Never before had their kind asked for treaties, he was the first leader to instate such things with soft skins but his clansmen just couldn't see the reasoning behind them. A war was coming, that is what was being said and what Teaghan had been telling him as more elves, humans, creatures of all kinds began flooding to her village for safety. It put the elven village on edge as well as his own clan. So many soft skins near their territory was raising many hackles but if this war would come to them then they would fight to the end. That was the plan until his small elven friend had told him she overheard village elders speaking of bands of warriors that would come from all over to unite and find a resolution to this rising threat. Although they hadn't been formally invited, why would they after all, he didn't see a reason not to travel and offer his help and his strongest warriors or at least the warriors he trusted enough to fight alongside soft skins and not strike at them. So he set off with two of the finest males in the clan, one a strong warrior and the other aged with experience. It was a relatively uneventful travel until Disir felt that he was being followed, no knew that he was being followed and knew exactly by who. Yes, Teaghan had been tagging along behind them despite the fact he had told her to stay put where it was safe. Now all four, five counting that blasted monkey, were arriving at the Silver Woods.

The moment they set foot within the boundary the youngest warrior he had brought sniffed in disgust, his long tongue slithering in and out of his mouth as he tasted the air. "Reaks of soft skins. Disgusting." Disir hissed a warning to him while making sure he had a grasp on Teaghan's arm so she wouldn't get herself into trouble. "Not let them hear you speak like that. Need pacts in war." He rumbled out in his accented hiss, knowing his rank would deter the youngling from pushing him further. The young warrior growled in irritation but took the warning for what it was and calmed himself as he fell back into place while the older warrior that walked at his side remained quiet, untrustingly taking in the sights of the others. The people here were nervous, he could tell but he didn't blame them. They were unintended guests with terrible reputations so what more were the people to think then they were here to eat them? When they reached the firepit, Disir drew himself up and approached the group that was gathered. Quickly, he surveyed the faces before him but honestly found no distinction except in the clothing and sexes of those before him; all soft skins look the same. There were elves though, he recognized them thanks to Teaghan and one of them was kneeling before some male. That must be who called the meeting, it was reasoning enough for him. So he stood back from the gathered group of soft skins, unsure of how he should address them before just merely speaking up. "Am Disir, leader to my clan. Here to offer help. Will do whatever you need." During this all his grip on Teaghan never relaxed and he could only imagine that it looked like she was a snack brought along for a long trip.

Teaghan winded between trees as she followed at a safe distance from the three lizard clan warriors. It had been a few days since she was ordered to stay at the elven village by Disir, the swamp creatures’ leader and a personal friend. Which, she did note, that she obeyed the order; or at least long enough to inform her mother of their departure and gather the scarce amount of prevision needed for the travel to the Silver Woods. Though the young elf had managed to trail undetected for most of the journey, she was eventually caught in the attempt and traveled the remainder of the time under the strict restraint of her friend’s grip.

The Wolf Tribe was only known to her through scarce rumors, most of which were of the meeting against the encroaching danger approaching them all. The majority of her own village was torn between running toward the aspect of war, or turning tail with the other fleeing refugees. Though regardless of the elders’ decision, it did not hold promised protection to stop the fighting from reaching the swamp lands. Sharing these worries and news with Disir had helped to ease the worry, all underlining the hope for help from the practical minded race; which thank the stars had succeeded. Now entering the boundary of the traveling messenger’s home land, Teaghan could only eye the gathering people in awe; her wide emerald eyes gleaming with excitement of the activity and energy flooding around them, oblivious to the own countless eyes following the small entourage as they walked forward. Three with sure footing and purposeful stride, the fourth leashed along and itching to trail amongst the gathered people.

Snapped back to attention by the sudden halt in walking, Teaghan surveyed the gathered group; recognizing a few of the races, and who could only be the Wolf Tribe leader by the formalities of the setting. Not entirely well versed in proper tradition, it was only through observing Disir’s own clan that she could guess the other guests of importance; or at least attempt to guess amongst the people dressed in fur and animal hide’s, differing greatly from the reptilian race she accompanied.

Waiting for the lizard clan to introduce themselves, it was not surprising to hear the blunt greeting. True to form, the three were here to offer their services and nothing more; and nothing more is all they offered. Still, wincing slightly at the cold lack of formal greeting, Teaghan attempted to bow toward the leader in greeting, only managing an inclination of the head from her upright position beside Disir. Exactly how much trouble did he expect she could cause? Though it was admitable her history for being involved in mishaps, it was never provoked on purpose!

As if mimicking her thoughts, Eeki, the young monkey who had skirted outside the group since entering the other tribe’s land, let out a small shriek as it sat beside a pile of red berries set amongst other food of welcome in the gathering. “Eeki!” Teaghan let out a low murmur to the furry creature as it promptly filled it’s little hand full of the sweet treats, then scampered across the floor on three legs before slinging up to her shoulder. Tail curling itself around the girl’s neck, the little thief sat jerkily munching its prize as it watched the other’s with wide eyes of curiosity.

“Greetings Priestess” said Thunder Walker, unfolding his legs and started to stand, so that Winona could rise from her knee, “It pains my heart to hear my brother Soris is taken with illness.”

Of course the Wolf Tribe chieftain and the leader of the Serene Forest were not related or at least not that closely and the phase was used only because they were both Chiefs. Although, many generations ago, a number of elves had been added to the tribe after a raiding party had traveled far from the Wolf Tribe’s territory. Because the captives had been adopted into the tribe, incorporated and remolded into Wolves, just where hey had come from, was forgotten. So there might be a remote possibility that the two of them could have a common ancestor.

“Your wisdom must be great” added Deer Stalker, standing besides his father, after he greeted a man from a refugee camp, “But Priestess, we are to talk about plans for war. Are you well versed in such things?”

Thunder Walk shot his son a look, which would have felled a charging boar but it as only for rudeness of the question, not that he had asked. With the Wolf Tribe and those close around them, war was men’s work, as was hunting and trade. Women dealt with things like raising the corn, property and family. Admittedly, these were elves but Winona was not dressed as a warrior, although her escorts were. Would she be able to determine if a battle plan was poor or had merit? Would she want to keep warriors at home to defend the villages or be willing to send them out to attack Blackthorn before he arrived in the Silver Wood? Would she want to go to war at all or suggest that every tribe flee south while they still could?

The younger man weathered the stare, like a mighty oak weathers a winter’s storm and continued to watch this Winona, waiting for an answer. She was attractive, although he had never seen anyone in they’re youth with white hair. For all his life, only elders like Red Stage (who had always been standing and was now smirking at the young Wolf), locks of hair without color. She didn’t sound like she had seen as many summers as the medicine man.

Before the question could be answered though, a ripple of shock and surprise ran through the gathering tribesmen, as three beings most had considered to be a bogyman, stepped into the hollow, dragging an elf girl with them. Most of the denizens of the Great Swamp were simply creatures of myth, this far north and the tales of the lizard men were among the worst. Many of the warriors clenched their hands, wishing they had broken the taboo against bringing weapons to the council. Deer Stalker himself wrapped his left hand around the hilt of his knife and slapped his right hand against his hip, trying to grab the tomahawk, which normally was tucked into his belt there.

Before anyone could do something stupid, the creature spoke, claiming to lead a clan and offered it’s alliance of all things. For a long moment, none of the gathered humans and elves said a thing, until a strange little creature gave a cry and began to pilfer the offered baskets of food. As it raced up to sit on the elf girl, another ripple ran through the tribesmen but of laughter this time.

“Greetings Disir” said Thunder Walker, standing tall but leaning slightly against his son and pronouncing the lizard man’s name with some difficulty, “I am Thunder Walker, Chieftain of the Wolf Tribe. You are welcome at our fire and we hunger to hear your words on how to deal with Blackthorn.”

Not every face of the assembled seemed to share in the diplomacy of the wise chief, whom had called the great meeting but none voiced any call to drive the lizards away. Thunder Walker had the right to invite any tribe and anyone he wanted to the hollow.

Winona didn't react to Deer Stalker's rudeness, but instead replied simply as if he had asked about how her tribe was holding through the autumn season, or any other casual thing. Her face was ever calm, her eyes cutting themselves to look over at the chief's young son as she spoke clearly, her face never giving hint to any signs of anger or even annoyance.

"Chief Soris would've not sent me here, if all I would do was sew pelts together, and talk about different recipes for deer meat. I knew well enough to know, that this Blackthorn will not be stopped simply by fleeing south, we need to find someway to defeat him, that's why we've come."

With that said, Winona turned around to go find seating amongst the ring of woolen blankets, however freezing instantly at the mere sight of the towering creatures before her. What were the infamous reptilians doing here, this was meant to be a peaceful meeting. Slightly adjusting herself into this defensive positioning with her staff held some ways behind her left foot, Winona's entourage gripped at their blades and bows tightly, ready to pull them out at any offensive movement from the scaled skinned men. However, at their promised cooperation, everyone carefully relaxed their grip on their sheathed weapons.

Winona slowly rose out of her weary stance, her staff placed forefront of her once more before she cautiously passed the three lizard warriors. Although grateful as she was that their unexpected visitors weren't here to cause trouble, Winona was still reasonably suspicious as she notably noticed the grip he had upon the elven woman's arm, it taking all that the priestess had not to say something as she and her tribe sat down upon one of the blankets, close to the chief's right.

“Listen, all I’m saying is women loves to have something nice to look at.” Celtio declared.
Celtio’s mouth had not for a single moment been silent. It had been constantly talking, mocking everyone in the group before he would stop and start talking about his hair. Woulfgar normally would ignore him but Celtio always found a way to break down the barrier of being ignored.
“Will you shut up!” Otter roared. “You talk more than birds sings!”
“Why, thank you. Women loves birds as well, especially those with blonde feathers.”

Gilkaet, Woulfgar, Otter and Celtio were on their way to a meeting between the clans. Gilkaet and Woulfgar would be representing their clan, The Twin Axe Clan; Gilkaet was the shaman, advisor and former champion of the clan thus it was only fit that he was send to represent the clan, and Woulfgar was the nephew of the chieftain and while the chieftain’s son was sick and his father dead Woulfgar was send as a protector for Gilkaet.
Along the way they had encountered Otter and Celtio, one being a mercenary while the other a flirter and annoying talker. Gilkaet had said a few words and the two had followed them.

“Make sure you don’t drop the animal. That is our tribute for this meeting,” Gilkaet’s old voice said, immediately silencing Celtio. “Woulfgar, come here.”
Woulfgar obeyed without hesitation; the two had known each other for for almost a decade and that made Woulfgar trust Gilkaet more than he did any other man.
“I want you to represent the clan when we arrive.”
“What, why?” Woulfgar almost yelled, shock and surprise catching him offguard.
“You need to know what it is like to communicate with other chieftains.”
“No. I am not chieftain, and I won’t be as long as his son is alive, why-”
“Who said that he would survive the sickness? … But I understand your judgment, yet even then, you will be needed as an advisor, and this opportunity is a rare one indeed.”
Woulfgar nodded, understanding what Gilkaet meant. Being a relative of the chieftain meant many things, you had to defend the right to being the leader, one had to council each other and most of all protect the clan.

The jungle got thicker and thicker, soon Woulfgar brought out his iron axe and began to chop and hack a path through the wilderness. They might have taken a wrong turn when they followed the directions of a pack of refugees they had encountered half a day away but nevertheless, Gilkaet insisted that they were on the right path.
“Bloody heav – Argh!” Woulfgar cried as he pushed through the bushes and fell down on a narrow path.
“Ah…I didn’t see that there,” Gilkaet noted, “seems we shall follow it in that direction then we’ll be at the meeting.”

At last the group arrived at the place where the council would take place they saw that they weren’t the first to arrive, much to Woulfgar’s dismay. “Greetings,” Gilkaet announced as they entered, “I apologize for our late arrival. Though I am certain our tribute for this council will pardon us.”

Gilkaet waved for Otter and Celtio to step forward with the large deer-sized animal they had captured before arriving. “I do hope that the taste of Lango meat is fitting for everyone.” After saying that Gilkaet looked at Woulfgar expectantly.

“Oh yes!” Woulfgar said, realizing that it was him who was to represent the Twin Axe Clan. “We are honored to be present with our allies,” Woulfgar started and then realized his mistake, “Oh, and I am Woulfgar, nephew to Chieftain Trak of the Twin Axe Clan. The chieftain is worried for his son’s health and stays with his own. I will represent the Clan, as well as Gilkaet; our shaman.”

Letting out a small sigh of relief, Woulfgar waited for the other chieftains to talk. Being relatively new to the world of clan politics, Woulfgar thought it wiser to remain silent and observe, speak only when it would be harmful for the clan.
He was aware that Blackthorn was a threat, but the Twin Axe Clan was much further south than the other clans, and thus they had barely met refugees or felt the same horror that other clans were experiencing.

His father had taught him that the clans were very different. The Wolf Clan, for example gave a very little role to the women in the clan while the Twin Axe Clan allowed women to take care of the trade, and leather-making while war, weapon & house making was for men.

All the while this was happening, Celtio and Otter stood respectfully behind Gilkaet and Woulfgar, discussing their own concerns. “That elf…I heard they are easy to break.” Celtio whispered
“I would be surprised. They’re all skinny and slim, no meat or muscles,” Otter replied.
“Yes I mean…They’re tall and always good looking, even the men -” Otter shot Celtio a shocked look-“They seem so…Uninteresting as well.”
“Did your mother drop you when you were born?”
“I don’t see why not.”
“Well, all my questions just answered.”
“Really? Am I that transparent? I heard that some women loves mysterious men…Would a cape and a hood do that for me?”
“Due your hair black, don’t sleep for three days, and then it might get you somewhere.”
“Do you have a leaf and some coal that I can write that down with.”
Otter looked at Celtio, again shocked that he didn’t even hear the thick sarcasm in his tone. “What would you do if I said your father was an idiot?”
“I’d agree.”
“Ancestors…Save me.”

The reaction to their presence at the meeting was no surprise but the movement of hands going to weapons and muscles tensing still put Disir on edge. He had to remain calm and controlled; he couldn’t give the group more reason to fear him and his party. It seemed his two warriors had other ideas though as the youngling flared the fin atop his head with a loud hiss, bright red flaring into the transparent skin of the fin and the underside of his throat as a sign of aggression or anger. The aged warrior hissed as well, reaching for his knife as none in their group were unarmed being unaware of the tradition of coming with bare hands to a meeting of peace. This little show was quickly put to a stop before it could escalate however as Disir gave a short clipped roar, a barking sound and the two recoiled a bit before relaxing as their eyes darted from person to person suspiciously. The tension thankfully was broken when Eeki, the little thief, stole some berries and merrily munched away while surveying the others which drew a laugh from most. Apparently that annoying pest was good for something at times.

A soft skin spoke up, the first time he’d ever been addressed by one directly other than Teaghan and the way he pronounced his name drew a slight smirk from the his leathery face. The man was chieftain, he had thought correctly, and he was offering them a place at their fire so the worst was over for now. They had been accepted into the meeting, their words would be heard and their skills would be put to use to stop the threat that loomed over them all. With his mind slightly at ease he took in the sights of the foreign soft skins more thoroughly. The chieftain elder had power and spoke strongly but slightly leaned upon his son for support, such silly signs of closeness and affection. He was always awkward and unknowledgeable when Teaghan would show such displays towards him, in fact the first time she hugged him he thought she was attempting to engage in a mock fight so he promptly flipped her over his shoulder. After that incident he became well aware of what affections meant what as his elven friend had forced him to sit down for soft skin behavior lessons. “Hm, Thunder Walker, such long name. Thank you. Will do what we can.” Now that words had been passed Disir wasn’t sure how to go about with this meeting. His eyes followed the other elf female that was present as he tried to pull what he was supposed to do from her actions; her face showed mistrust. She also had pulled a weapon on him and his companions when they first arrived but instead of easing with the chieftain’s acceptance, she was put more on edge with their presence. She sat down on one side of Thunder Walker, so they were to sit were they? Grunting to his warriors, he jerked his head in a silent command for them to follow and sat down on the opposite side of the chieftain. Looking towards the elf woman once more, he nodded towards her in a general way of saying hello. At least, that’s what he thought the gesture meant.

During this whole ordeal his grip on Teaghan had only tightened when he was angered and then loosened to his firm grip from before but he never released her. He wasn’t going to chance it, not this time! Many experiences in the past had been lesson enough to know never let your eyes stray from her. However her constant squirming and the pleading looks she would shoot him were beginning to chip away at his resolve, as they always did. Finally he let go of her arm but not before leaning over and hissing in her ear. “No problems. Get into one then you see what true problem is after I get hands on you.” Pulling back, he eyed her seriously before turning his attention back to those present. Hopefully she would take his false threat with more weight than it actually carried. Then again she had always known he could never punish her no matter what she did. The only time he had ever been truly angry with her was when she was a small child and would not heed his warnings to come back away from a sinking bog. Only when her well-being is in danger is he ever truly upset with her. The drifting into his thoughts was broken at the appearance of a group of males, a group of strange males. It wasn’t the offering of meat they gave that was strange, nor their appearances but the hushed conversation that two of them were having. A comment about elves easily breaking caused him to tense and a slight blush of red to tinge his throat, they would never touch his Teaghan! The following comments however erased his anger and caused an eye ridge to twitch in confusion. Soft skins, he would never understand them.

Winona tensed slightly at the reptile's casually given nod, a natural reaction that the young priestess shamefully admitted was due only to mere fact of the man's foreign nature, as well as his species infamous reputation for being violent savages. Ultimately forcing herself to relax despite having suspicions about their new allies even now, Winona quietly busied herself with hushed conversation amongst her gathered entourage about possible solutions they could propose during the soon-to-be-held meeting. However, conversation eventually died down when the elf's sharp hearing caught wind of the words exchanged between two of the men from the small group that had suddenly arrived.

The words made Winona's ears twitch slightly in obvious irritation, as she quickly pieced together the crude topic of their unintelligible conversation, looking over with her eyes slightly narrowed upon the youthful looking blonde that spoke with the bulky looking warrior who towered silently over him like a tall, foreboding mountain. He was notably young, Winona could forgive him for his ill-informed intelligence, however she would make note never to be alone with him...while around weapons. However, her self-control seemed stronger than those within her small party, as she quickly reached out and placed a gentle hand upon the fingers wrapped tightly around the slightly drawn hilt of the warrior's dagger. Silently shaking her head, Winona spoke in a gentle, hushed voice.

"Be calm, mighty warrior.. The young fool does not seem to know what he says half the time, you must have patience and self-control.." The warrior looked as if he were about to resist, however seeing the relative understanding within Winona's eyes, he stayed his hand.

Pyra watched the arrival of the others. The presence of the lizard like creatures caused her travelling companions to begin talking amoungst themselves. "We should leave....terrible creatures...what if they attack while we are all talking..." The words rang in Pyra's ears and made her stomach turn. "Cowards. The lot of them." Warriors and fighters these were not. Pyra watched the reactions of the chief and the younger man. The younger man reacted as did the elven woman with the white hair. The chief seemed to take the appearance of the creature in stride and reacted diplomatically.

Pyra shook her head. If the chief was willing to allow them to help then for now there was nothing to fear. There was bigger issues. This threat from the north needed to be dealt with before there was no one left to fight against him. Pyra decided she could not be associated with the cowards she arrived with. Best to move away, listen to the meeting as it progress and see if there was a way she could help.

Standing, she quietly slipped behind the group. They were continuing to argue over what to do. It seemed that two of them wanted to return home and let others deal with Blackthorn. Pyra narrowed her eyes at them as she passed. They wouldn't miss her so wrapped up in their own fear. Pyra moved in the shadows on the outskirts of the group. The rest were distracted so it was a good time to make her way out of the circle.

Walking, Pyra found herself near a new group of arrivals. Stopping in the shadow near them she watched one greet the chief. They dropped an offering to the chief and the other two stood back talking. Pyra, from her spot in the dark could hear them. She looked them over. Always watching for the two men she hunted Pyra scanned these two men. They were not them.

Pyra smirked at the way the two men joked with each other. They were obviously old friends. There was a twinge in her chest as she remembered the teasing she endured from Marek when they travelled. This was different of course but it made her miss that companionship.

Pyra crouched in the shadows to the left of the men. She'd stay here for now, listen to the meeting.

Shinook had heard and observed many people flowing through the forest. He stayed out of sight and waited. He knew his prey would walk into his trap. Bingo. Not long of a wait until a woman walked by alone. He jumped up and put his hand on her shoulder. 'You and I are friends, and we are attending the meeting together. You swear you know me, and my name is Shinook. We were childhood friends and we will blend into the shadows.' He let go and she instantly smiled. "SHINOOK!" She hollered hugging him. "How have you been old friend? It has been too long! Are you going to the wolf pack meeting?!"

Shinook was taken aback, but acted Calmly. Yes! Indeed I am Forla. He was able to fish around inside the mind of those he hypnotized but didn't care to learn too much information as things he learned he could never forget, ever. He walked with the woman and they hit a dense brush. He stopped but she turned to him, "Don't fret Shinook," she giggled while speaking, "We walk through here." She pushed at the brush and stepped through, disappearing. He followed her and saw a huge fire and a large gathering of people. She, as commanded, shrunk into the shadows and took a seat at the back. He also sat in the shadows next to Forla. She grabbed his hand and kissed it. "I'm so excited to see you again. We really must catch up after the meeting!" She smiled at him and looked back to the fire. There were people up and about greeting each other and others were sitting waiting patiently for the whole ceremony to start. He also noticed food, then realized that his stomach felt empty and his bag was empty of meat.

He stared into the fire waiting to see what this was all about, and if there were opportunity for him to kill these new enemies.

Teaghan could only tense at the reaction to Disir and his kind’s presence; with movement from all sides reaching towards weapons or at least where some may have once been by their side. At least the tension was somewhat broken however by the monkey still happily munching on her shoulder. She couldn’t help but cast a sly smirk at Disir when he wasn’t looking; she would be sure to remind him of this the next time he threatened to eat the rambunctious Eeki.

The elven girl’s earlier guess proved correct as the elder man rose and welcomed the small group to their fireside, leaning slightly on a young man, his son most likely. A slight sigh of relief escaped her lips as some of her worries eased. There were no fights, no threats, only wary looks from the others gathered and that moment of tension at the first of their arrival. The Wolf tribe chieftain must be well respected for none to be vocal against his decision; one that also showed his wisdom to not turn away the lizard clan’s help. If he was the one leading this meeting, perhaps yet there was a chance to succeed against this Blackthorn and whatever power he held.

Shifting uncomfortably from standing in one place to long, or at least for her, Teaghan cast a innocent glance at Disir; hoping he would catch the hint to release his grip or at least be guilted into the act. Not quiet succeeding yet, she was happy to at least move as the four chose to sit by the fire on the opposite of the chieftain. Giving one last attempted squirm into a more comfortable sitting position, the lizard man finally released his grip with a hissed warning. The threat falling on deaf ears, she cast Disir a withered look and leaned toward him. “Speaking of which, need I remind you why you call my kind soft skins.” Rubbing her arm with a mock wince, she sat upright once more with a hidden smirk and glanced around the fireside; her attention broke once again at the arrival of more to the gathering.

Eeki scuttled to hug her arm as it was startled out of it’s berry bliss, eyeing the newcomers just as curiously as the one now holding him was doing. Her attention was pulled to the two men whispering in the back; after all, usually the most interesting conversations were the ones others intended you not to hear. Catching the words of the blonde man, Teaghan leaned back a bit to pear around the larger Disir and get a better look a these two men. Faces committed to memory, she made a mental note to avoid the pair unless Disir was around; though by the tint of red on her friend’s face, it was only guessable she would have a hard time going anywhere on her own unattended. Chewing the inside of her cheek to keep from speaking to the dense males, she settled back into her seat and glanced at the woman with the white hair to see if she also heard the comment of their kind. A slight feeling of relief settled as the other elves seemed to take offense to the duo as much as she did, a slight smile playing across her face that she wasn’t the only of her race present.

Movement caching Eeki’s attention as it glanced over her shoulder, Teaghan followed the gesture to spot a woman joining behind the new arrivals. About to ask Disir if he noticed her being here before or after their arrival, she was cut off by the end of the two men’s conversation and could only quirk an eyebrow in bewilderment. Slightly shaking her head she mumbled under her breath to Disir with a sigh. “If they are who we have to rely on, we are finished.”

OOC: Irish Wolf I made a profile.....hope its ok.....let me know.....then I can edit this into something better......

***Fushicho-this game has been on hold since Sept of 2011. :)

I see....i just noticed the dates.....i really don't like this RP site.....they don't keep track of the creators and have a bunch of junk up that's worthless to faithful RPers like me....i can't find anything worth while on this site....anyway this was the girl i wanted to add....shes a character i made ages ago but was tweaking it for this story....nvm now.....tell me what you think??


*Appearance: Flauvelle is a beautiful Night Elf with soft purplish bluish iridescent skin. Her hair goes down her back to her knees when it's braided and is a silver mist Moonbeam white that seems to glow slightly in the moonlight. She has the classic metallic silver eyes of her people with a slight blue tint to them. Her facial markings are that of Royal Blood and show up only when she wishes to make them appear, unlike the lower classes who's markings show up randomly when they feel strong emotions which is the case for most Night Elves or they show up after birth and never fade away which is the case for most in that warrior classes. She is of an average height at 5ft 8in with thick strong thighs, nice full curves and well toned muscles that are used constantly hunting, running, climbing and swimming so that she has amazing stamina and strength to go with her stunning looks. Flauvelle usually wears wolf or panther skin for clothes when she wears them....shes very comfortable in her skin and sometimes can be found basking in the moonlight nude as moonlight rejuvenates Night Elves. As for her age.....thats hard to say.....Night Elves age far slower than humans and a little slower than light elves though their lives because of their feisty natures get cut short from battle injuries as they take longer than light elves and humans to heal. Flauvelle actually has a very timid nature that makes many of evil intentions think they can do her harm, they get a rude awakening when she destroys them with ruthless fighting skills. Flauvelle has a scar going across from her left shoulder to the right side of her lower back. She would have died had her father not done a protection reversal spell that healed her and made her "undetectable" to those that would have killed her. The spell cost him his own life and it is that fact that drives Flauvelle on to find her peoples sword and avenge their deaths!

*Personality: Flauvelle is shy but ruthless. She is tender to those in need but uncaring to this who are greedy and selfish. Flauvelle likes to be alone with her thoughts basking nude in the moonlight and may not seem to be paying anything any mind, but, don't be fooled she listens to everything and even when she seems far away know that she's as close to the situation as you are. Flauvelle loves her people and honors her Blood as a Royal Night Elf, she will complete her mission and avenge her people and her kin.


*Weapons/Gear: Her skin clothes are made of Panther or Wolf. She uses a bow and arrows made of ver hard wood with stone tips. She also uses hand to hand combat skills that help her when things get dicey.


*Character History: Flauvelle is one of the few remaining night elves that haven't been killed by the evil that's spreading across the land. Her people fought against the evil army as best they could with their bows, arrows and superior archery skills but they were out numbered and soon over powered. Flauvelle's father the King of the Moonshymer tribe in a last ditch effort to protect his daughter sacrificed his life to place a spell over her that would keep her from being found by her enemies until she came of an age to defend herself. The spell has protected her using the strength of her fathers love to shield her from harm while she grew up in the secret forests that were home to light elves. In time though it started to fade and she came to realize her place wasn't with the elegant light elves with their delicately made clothes of leaves and giant flower pedals but it was in the wild mountains and plains the free open beaches and in forests with rivers deep and dark. So she thanked the elves who shielded her all the years they had then she set out on her own traveling onward to someplace unknown. Something her father once told her an ancient story of a sword carved from the tear of the moon, a sword that belonged to the Night Elves but was stolen by some magic wielders ions ago to try to protect themselves in a city someplace. Around her neck a white stone swayed the weight heavier than one would think a small stone should weigh. Her father told her that when the stone glows it means its near its sword and with that sword she could avenge her people. Only the heir could wield the sword and the only heir left was her. And in her heart she knew it would be her Princess Flauvelle of Moonshymer that would avenge her kin, and her race.