Talon V'lyn's Story

City Lethandrill : Armen Sorien

He had his back to the chamber doors, the steward inside was holding a meeting and Armen had been ordered out. Without question as always, he'd left the room and stood guard outside the double doors of the palace. The white hall reflected the golden fire light that lit the long passageway down to the small staircase that led to the front of the palace. His shadow played against the wall behind him as he stood there, stock still. Both arms were crossed over his broad chest, the silver plate of armor that covered his upper body reflected the light as well.

One shoulder plate, and a pair of silver gauntlets finished his uniform for the personal guard of the steward. Armen had been working that detail for several months now, having risen in the ranks so quickly that even he questioned the stewards commands for a while. Rumors had spread that he'd been kissing up to the Captain and to the steward himself. Those rumors didn't last long though as the Captain shut down that spread of evil fairly quickly. Armen didn't like the treatment, though. He felt like he was something special, even when he wasn't.

Still, the pay was good, and his position wasn't bad either. Guarding a steward had it's perks at times. Armen had been able to sit in on some conferences and had learned much about the outer world. Things with the orders seemed to be going good, at least until recently when the orders began discussions about the mages law of keeping magic privatized. That was when things began to get a little sour. For the past couple of weeks Armen had been asked to leave the council room, and he often wondered why. However, as a simple guard it wasn't his place to ask questions, so he didn't.

The double doors behind him pulled open and he started from his thoughts. Almost on simple instinct, Armen stood straight, arms at his side and eyes facing forward as the council broke apart. At least, that's what he thought was going on. The man's voice startled him even more and it took him a moment to register that the elf was talking directly to him.

"Armen Sorien, step inside."

Turning, Armen eyed the taller man with a bit of curiosity before giving a slight nod of his head. He followed the man into the room, his eyes shifting from the long white cloak of the council man before him, to the others just passed his escorts shoulders. Every elven man there wore the same silky white clothing as the steward who sat at the head of the room, up on the throne that was meant for a King instead. The steward looked anything but pleased as Armen came into the room, his beady dark eyes glared at the floor before him, one hand holding up his head, the other tapping incessantly upon the arm of the throne.

"Here he is," the man who'd fetched Armen snapped with acid in his tone. The change in demeanor caused Armen's chest to clench with an unknown feeling. He wasn't entirely sure he liked how everyone was looking at him. Had it been a council meeting of usual means like he'd thought? Or had something else happened entirely that he wasn't aware of? Armen was betting on the latter of the two choices.

The steward gave a snort as he looked up at Armen angrily, "Right under my nose this entire time. How could I have been so blind."

"One would be so bold as to say that power has blinded you, Torak."

Torak turned his sneer on the man who'd spoken to him, "One would be so bold as to say that you're too old of an elf to continue holding his position as councilor," he shot back venomously and turned back to Armen, his gaze no less wicked than before, "I'll die before I have your filthy blood anywhere near this throne, elf."

Armen's eyebrow shot up, confusion wringing through him as he stood there, helpless against some accusation that he wasn't even fully aware of or understanding. He opened and closed his mouth several times, but nothing came out.

"What will you do with him?" Another council member asked.

"He's dangerous to have around, might as well dispose of him while you have the chance, Torak. Should he ever figure things out, that could spell disaster for you," another suggested with a lazy flip of his hand.

Armen felt his heart jump to his throat and his hands twitched, itching to grab his weapon to try to defend himself should anything happen. However, his muscles wouldn't move with his thoughts, his arms locked at his sides and only his fingers twitching every now and then. The air in the room had grown heavy, darkening with a threat that he could feel building. The crushing weight of what was about to happen continued to suffocate him, and all he could do was stand there. Torak stood slowly, the mans presence nearly dwarfing Armen's lithe size. Torak was no small man, even though his height was the same as Armen's. The steward was well built, speaking of years of wielding heavier weapons than his own body weight.

With Torak's motion, Armen found that his arm could move and he instantly gripped the handle of his sword and stepped back. His teeth grit together, though his eyes were wide and filled with his confusion and fear. Torak stopped for a moment, then let out a loud laugh, "Well, well. The boy has a bit of sense. Realizing just now that you're in danger? Just a tad slow there, Armen Sorien. No matter, really, you wouldn't have lasted long against me to begin with," Torak raised his arm and a flash of silver was all that caught Armen's eyes before he felt a pulse of power lift him off his feet.

Hurled backwards some distance, Armen gave a shout of surprise and a bit of pain from the power that crushed him. He crashed into a pillar on the far side of the council room, right before the wall and the large floor to ceiling window right behind the marble pillar. The elf coughed, blood flecking his lips as he tumbled down to the floor. His body thudded hard onto the ground and lay still. Torak made his way to him, his hand flexing as he walked. A dark gleam filled his eyes as he moved towards the young elf that had stirred slightly.

"You know, Torak. You could keep him alive and use him as insurance if things go sour with the other orders," one of the council men said from across the way. Torak stopped in his advance and frowned. His eyes were still locked on Armen, who was slowly pulling himself up onto his hands and knees, blood dripping from his mouth. Slowly the steward turned to face the man who'd spoken and Armen looked up from the corner of his eye to man who towered over him. His vision was blurry from the damage he'd taken, the sudden pulse of power inflicted upon his body had been something he'd never felt before.

His eyes caught the silver flash once more that was on the stewards hand. A kind of gauntlet adorned Torak's arm, long silver claws covered each finger. It was a piece of armor that Armen had never seen Torak wearing before, or perhaps he'd just missed it entirely. It wasn't like he'd been ordered to inspect every detail of the steward down to the last piece of clothing he wore. Armen felt that something was very wrong with that gauntlet, a deep and dark power resided inside the silver metal and the more he stared at it, the more it felt as if it were reaching into him.

Armen's gaze was torn away from it as he felt his body lifted up off the ground. Strong arms encircled his, pulling him up from underneath his armpits. The men who held him were part of the guard as well, strong elves whom he'd shared shifts with every so often. He looked groggily from one side to the other, eyeing the two guards who held him. A hard fist collided with his stomach, forcing him upwards slightly. His eyes widened with shock at the sudden hit, and his mouth coughed up more blood. He slumped forward in the guards grasp. Armen hadn't even realized they'd taken off his silver plated armor whilst they held him.

"Take him down into the dungeons. We'll see how long this pure blood will last," Torak spat as he crossed his arms over his chest. As Armen was dragged away he heard the last couple of words that the steward said to the council, "Insurance eh? You better hope this doesn't come back to bite us. Should the Order of Riena ever find out about this..."

He was taken down into the cold, dark caverns below the city and locked into the shackles that hung from the ceiling. If it weren't for the shackles holding him, Armen would have crumpled to the ground. Instead, he knelt down, only held up by his arms up over his head. He sighed heavily, though the movement hurt his rib cage. He winced slightly. Looking up slowly, he tightened his hands into fists. What the hell just happened?

City Skyfall : Talon V'lyn

The door to his room opened up with a loud bang as he stalked in, seething. His fingers reached up and undid the ties of his dark blue doublet. How he hated being dressed formally for such meetings. He tossed the heavy cloth off of his shoulders, revealing well toned skin and several scars crisscrossing his upper body. Walking over to the washbasin in the corner of the room that he shared with Jennifer, he reached into the cool water and cupped his hands. He threw it all over his face and hair before drinking some of it from his hands.

Putting both hands on his hips, he leaned back and sighed heavily. The water dripped down his face, passed his neck and onto his chest where it started to dry. The sunlight was fading, dropping low in the sky and sending orange flames into the bedroom. He straightened and turned his steely gaze towards the wall in front of him. Blue-grey hair fell down into his eyes, mostly covering the eye with the scar. His mind was still on the meeting as he stood there. After a moment he let out a frustrated sigh and ran his hands through his hair before turning and pacing in the room.

"Damn idiots..." he muttered to himself. How he hated some of the mages of the order of Vyldi. Most of them were too damned selfish to recognize the benefits of allowing magic into the public. With how the order was treating it these days, those without magic were growing superstitious about the origins of power and when some mages slipped in public, it caused mass terror. It was something he'd rather not deal with. The less people knew, the more fearful they were. It was how problems cropped up. The less problems he could avoid the better everyone would be.

"It's like talking to a damned brick wall with those men," Talon continued as he paced the floor, "Not to mention they've got some damned rumor going on about Lethandrill... Gods, it's like talking to a bunch of old women who now nothing but how to gossip," he growled to no one in particular. He was too lost in his own frustrations to notice anyone else in the room. He wasn't even entirely sure if Jennifer was around or not either.

"The pompous asses are even going to lengths as to order me to go to Lethandrill. Lazy bastards should do it themselves, I've got enough to deal with," he crossed his arms over his chest and stopped his pacing to glare at the floor.

Skyfall

Materializing like smoke drawn to a fire, Jennifer stood by the entrance, flashing a signature grin. A wide and taunting gesture which sat perfectly framed between her honey combed cheeks. Draped in a simple blouse and pants, the mage painted a pretty picture within the rectangular doorway. Forty years had done little to dull her sharp appearance, just as it had neglected to affect Talon. Talon looked as young as the day they’d first met, and arguably bulkier now that they weren’t flying around constantly, frantically evading bloodthirsty rebels. Jennifer had resumed her own training a few months after they’d settled down. It was all down to her ingrained past, and arduous days spent preparing to be a weapon. She just couldn’t remain stationary as simply as others. Sunset traced long shadows over the furniture of their little unit. It seeped through the opening of their west bay window and bathed the room orange, sheets, walls and floor whole. Talon stood at the centre of it, his furrowed brow and corded muscles highlighted in the same orange, much like a thinking statue. Watching him brood in silence, he looked tired and far more spent than usual.

Leering at the bristling assassin, she held her own arms across her chest, reflecting his posture in mock amusement. One of those hands held the book she’d been reading before his blatant cursing disrupted her from the other room. “Some things never change,” she chuckled, announcing her entry with a statement meant to be both figurative and literal. She had waited patiently for the bulk of his frustrations to fizzle down before speaking, as if she was afraid he'd bite. “I hope your language is more refined when addressing the order of Vyldi, wouldn’t want to lose that peace you’ve been working so hard to maintain now would we?”

She relished the snug feeling of carpet brushing against her bare feet as she stepped into the bedroom and retired her novel to a side desk. One of the things which had changed over the course of their relationship was his increased tolerance of underhanded methods, her influence. A change she welcomed wholeheartedly, but Jennifer never imagined she’d get to chastise him for it, “And don’t even think about killing them to end your dispute. In my opinion you’re at the perfect age to retire, but you’re the one who insists on leading the assassin guild. Suffering their pompousness is the least you can do for evading me.”

Making her way to where he stood, her fingers delicately trailed along his shoulders before settling down to ease his tension. “Alternatively, if those old men are still annoying you, you can think about me instead,” she whispered from behind his ear, rotating her palms and fingers with a firm rhythm. Abruptly, her cold laughter penetrated the still air as she nipped his ear lobe and then backed away playfully. If the man didn’t loosen up, he was going to die of a heart attack, dragon blood or not.

“Now, tell me about Lethandrill. I don’t recall having heard about any rumours before,” she said, wiping her hands dry against her top. Talon's skin was slightly damp, evidence he’d drenched himself upon returning home. “I don't even know how you'll find the time to travel either. You've still got new recruits to brief. There's one mute individual in particular who looks like she'll be a handful...though, i guess she does have the advantage of not having to worry about breaking noise silence...”

Talon V'lyn

“I hope your language is more refined when addressing the order of Vyldi, wouldn’t want to lose that peace you’ve been working so hard to maintain now would we?”

His attention was taken from his brooding as the mage moved gracefully into the room. She wore a simple white shirt and pants and her feet were bare, making almost no sound at all as she walked across their carpet. He watched her as she moved towards him, her familiar smile upon her lips as always. He frowned though, recovering from her sudden entrance. He was still irritated with the Vyldi council.

"They can only be so lucky," he muttered in return.

“And don’t even think about killing them to end your dispute. In my opinion you’re at the perfect age to retire, but you’re the one who insists on leading the assassin guild. Suffering their pompousness is the least you can do for evading me,” her hand went up his arm, slowly reaching up to his taunt shoulder. He could feel his muscles melting under her touch, the tension seemingly slipping away. Talon allowed himself to sigh heavily and close his eyes.

"If it were only that easy... but you're right."

“Alternatively, if those old men are still annoying you, you can think about me instead,” she whispered, a change in her tone as she reached up to his ear and bit at the lobe with her fine pearly teeth. A spark ran through him and his eyes opened up, narrowing in on her. She was still close enough to him, even as she laughed and pulled away to dry her hands from his damp skin. Talon turned full circle and followed her, her teasing getting the best of him. Reaching out, he put his arms around her waist and pulled her to him.

“Now, tell me about Lethandrill. I don’t recall having heard about any rumours before. I don't even know how you'll find the time to travel either. You've still got new recruits to brief. There's one mute individual in particular who looks like she'll be a handful...though, i guess she does have the advantage of not having to worry about breaking noise silence...”

"In a minute," he said as he dipped down and kissed her. One hand held her tightly around the waist, the other ran up her back, curving her body against his. He loved her feel, her smell, her laughter. Everything about her drove him crazy, even when she was being difficult. He deepened their kiss, pouring all of his affections into it as he caressed her tongue with his. Finally he pulled away and took a deep breath. Talon felt better now that she was there, in his arms.

"Well, as you've so kindly reminded me. We'll have to post pone any further ideas that may be running through your mind, my lovely mage," he smiled wickedly at her as he reached up and ran his thumb across her cheek gently, "I've got recruits waiting for me, and unfortunately a long ride to Lethandrill as well..." he frowned at that, but quickly shoved the annoying thoughts aside.

"Will you accompany me to the briefing room? I would like to only say this once to everyone," he said and pulled away from her slowly. Once free from her hold, he turned to the wardrobe and opened it. His leather tunic, belt and weapons hung up inside and he pulled it all out. As soon as he was dressed and ready, he turned for the door and headed for the large room that was at the bottom of the huge establishment. Talon had rebuilt his fathers house several years ago, expanding it to allow more room for training and housing the assassins.

The upper floor was home to his more experienced and older assassins, his and Jennifer's bedroom (being the largest) was at the back of the house to the west side. The other rooms for the assassins were on the first floor, spread out from the front and extending all the way down the two wings that he'd added to the house on either side. Outside, the home encircled the enormous courtyard where the assassins trained in all forms of fighting. The final part of the house connected the two large wings at the back and that was where all of the briefings were held.

Talon took the stairs down to the first floor quickly, nimbly avoiding the other assassins that were in and out of their rooms, doing odds and ends jobs that Talon kept posted up on a billboard near the front of the house. Once he hit the bottom, he turned swiftly on his heel and headed for the backdoor that led to the courtyard. Pushing the door open, the seasoned assassin was let out into his courtyard. Looking up to where his bedroom was, he could see the balcony that wrapped around the room. He smiled fondly as he recalled having spent more than a few cool evenings on that balcony with Jennifer beside him.

Entering the briefing hall, he turned left and went down to the second door. Looking over his shoulder to be sure that Jennifer was still with him, he opened it and walked into the room. All chatter ceased immediately as his presence filled the room. His gaze shot from one young man to another until it settled on the woman that Jennifer had mentioned in their room. Her silvery hair was long, covering her eyes and she was dressed in furs. Indeed, she stood out amongst the rest, but he almost got the feeling that she wasn't one to be taken lightly. If anything, her interest in becoming an assassin was probably right on target, given her aura.

Talon moved to the desk that was at the front of the room. Leaning on it, he crossed his arms over his broad chest and eyed the handful of people in front of him once more, this time with a bit more scrutiny. A few he could already tell wouldn't last a week through his training, some he figured would probably find something better suited to them in three weeks, and even less he thought could actually become hardened assassins. Taking a deep breath he began speaking.

"Riena sends her greetings," his deep voice reverberated off the walls around them, "Many of you won't receive her blessings, however. For those that will, the Order is now your home, your life. My training will break you down and build you up again. There are three trainers, they are to be respected and treated as if you're dealing with me personally. They are less forgiving than I am. You start at first light, and you will end when the trainers say you end.

"The man or woman next to you, is your sister or brother here. You will watch over each other, fight with each other, protect each other and give your life for each other. Our Order may be small in comparison to some armies from the other cities, but they lack how tightly knit we are, therefore they lack in power. Riena teaches us to use the shadows, she teaches us to kill swiftly and she teaches us to be nothing more than to be silent predators in the dark. We do not kill innocents or go on massacres. The punishment is death.

"You will be harbringers of peace, and anyone who disturbs this peace is quickly dealt with. If you're serious enough, strong enough and open minded enough, you will make it here in the Order. If not, you will break and you won't ever be able to return," he stopped and looked about the room. Already he could see some were having second thoughts about coming to Skyfall. However, there was hope yet as many had gone from uncertain to resolved through his speech. He allowed a small smirk of satisfaction before he continued.

"Upon returning from a council meeting with the Order of Vyldi, I was informed about strange events in Lethandrill. The Steward has refused to respond to any messengers sent to the forests, and just recently the last messenger has not returned at all. The Order feels that something may have happened while our attentions have been between ourselves rather than on the elves. Some fear that the Navile may have a hand in their unnatural silence towards us.

"To make matters worse, there are rumors spreading that the Steward took the throne forcefully, and that the Late Queen of the elves hadn't died of natural causes as we were so told, but that she was killed slowly with poison. The Order of Vyldi has been trying to send someone there to find out what exactly is going on, but nothing has come of it. Some elves have left the forests and that is where the information is coming from. They feel that something terrible is brewing in the Lethandrill, and so they fled in fear of their Steward. I've been.... asked.... to investigate the city.

"For a couple of you this will be your first task. Accompany Jennifer and myself to the city and meet with the Steward. The quicker we get to the bottom of this, the better. The rest of you will train here in the meantime," his lips pulled into an amused smile as he stood there, "I'll decide who comes via a sparing match. You're opponent is me. Come to the courtyard when you're ready," he said and pushed off the desk.

As he moved for the door, he felt the sharp prick of power along his arm. He ground his teeth and easily left the room without showing the pain that was slowly building from the bracer. He hadn't thought about the damn thing for so long that he'd nearly forgotten to share the power with Jennifer. It wasn't the first time he'd forgotten too either. In all the forty years he'd had to deal with the bracer, one would have thought that he would remember such a dangerous thing. Once outside and clear of any new students, he slumped against the wall, his free hand gripping his forearm just above the silver band that was eternally stuck to his arm. As soon as he got the pain under control he reached for Jennifer. She was sure to give him an ear full once he finished transferring the overflow of magic to her.

Holding her head still for a second, she gave him a startled expression as Talon assaulted her lips, demanding her. She eased into his strong hold, glad so long as she was able to relieve some of his frustrations. Since the establishment of the Order of Nine, their relationship had been brought into question on more than one occasion. It was a particularly strenuous topic thanks to her less than exemplary records. Such was the reason why she often feigned to get too involved in Talon’s official business, lest she be the cause of further issues.

"Well, as you've so kindly reminded me. We'll have to post pone any further ideas that may be running through your mind, my lovely mage," he grinned down at her mockingly, pulling back only to caress her cheek. Oh how the tables had turned. She felt slightly flustered now that she was the one being teased, but grinned back at him, happy regardless. "I've got recruits waiting for me, and unfortunately a long ride to Lethandrill as well... Will you accompany me to the briefing room? I would like to only say this once to everyone," his brows gave off a slightly gloomy appearance at the thought, but he relented to his formal duties and set off to get dressed.

“Of course,” she nodded, a hint of sarcasm creeping into her tone, “It is my duty to monitor that language of yours after all.”

She slipped into some flat heels and followed Talon as they took the closest flight of stairs to the first floor, the less scenic route which went under the courtyard beneath their balcony. Even if she had the tendency to poke fun at his occupation, Talon had done a fine job of rebuilding his father’s legacy. Over the years the order had developed into something more than she ever imagined, she could almost call it home.

Jennifer stood just out of view as they finally entered the briefing hall, her lithe figure like the shadow glimpsed from the corner of your eye. A sort off respectful silence descended over the crowd as Talon stood over the front desk, but it wasn’t so much out of respect as much as his aura simply demanded it. Talon had been the authoritative figure head of the Order of Riena for an entire generation, and had yet to show the slightest hint of ailing in his responsibilities. She listened to him deliver the usual spiel with a small smirk, enjoying the ambiguous expressions of several members in the crowd especially. The young dark woman she mentioned earlier was present also, Fukayna Muidrehd. The key observation in her file was her refusal to speak, though the reasons why remained unknown. She was also listed as having formidable combat skills but it was difficult to tell from behind Talon. Jennifer made of a point of investigating the background off every new draftee, her way of rooting out potential danger to Talon. Lacking the assassin's charisma to lead, she was much better suited to working in the background. Her main interests lay within the council meeting however, so she listened to his speech again, this time more intently.

"Upon returning from a council meeting with the Order of Vyldi, I was informed about strange events in Lethandrill. The Steward has refused to respond to any messengers sent to the forests, and just recently the last messenger has not returned at all. The Order feels that something may have happened while our attentions have been between ourselves rather than on the elves. Some fear that the Navile may have a hand in their unnatural silence towards us.” he explained the situation simply.

Jennifer felt herself frowning immediately, knowing exactly where this was leading. Another Reev damned power struggle. Sixty years of the same thing happening over and over had already jaded her. Reev knows she'd experienced a lifetimes worth of it back in Ro'ell and now again as the Order of Nine attempted to shackle mages like her. Just the thought made her eye twitch, she'd rather be damned then listen to them, but of course the situation wasn't so simple.

"For a couple of you this will be your first task. Accompany Jennifer and myself to the city and meet with the Steward. The quicker we get to the bottom of this, the better. The rest of you will train here in the meantime. I'll decide who comes via a sparring match. You're opponent is me. Come to the courtyard when you're ready," Talon announced, officially concluding the meeting. Hushed murmurs from the crowd slowly filtered back into the room, replacing the silence as inductees began discussing their prospects. Jennifer’s attention was entirely focused upon Talon though, noticing his tightened jaw and narrowed eyes. The hallmark signs his old brace was acting up.

Cursing, she crouched in front of him as the assassin went flaccid against a wall, pale from pain. “Dammit Talon! How long has it been since you last shared your power?! How can you still be so forgetful after forty years!” she hissed, but more out of anger at herself. She should’ve anticipated this and reminded him before the meeting, instead she’d just fooled around again, drunk from the joy of just seeing him. They had a routine but sometimes his schedules simply interfered more than she liked. Jennifer waited until she’d absorbed the bulk of his power before releasing a sigh. “No matter. Now get up and get ready to spar. I want to enjoy watching the juniors kick your arse,” she ordered, jerking him upright with an encouraging slap across the arm.
 

The instant he entered the briefing hall, Fukayna could feel him. The very chill of his aura swept about the room and many of the recruits shifted uncomfortably in their seats. It was the touch of a hardened warrior, a skilled fighter, a man who, for lack there of better wordage, wouldn't really take crap off of anyone. She went to draw her furs just a little closer about her body but paused in the motion. To cling to something out of comfort may be taken a sign of weakness and if she failed to at least make some sort of suitable impression here, she would be at a loss for where to go. Instead she forced herself to relax her shoulders and focused her attentions upon him as he began to speak.

"Riena sends her greetings. Many of you won't receive her blessings, however. For those that will, the Order is now your home, your life. My training will break you down and build you up again. There are three trainers, they are to be respected and treated as if you're dealing with me personally. They are less forgiving than I am. You start at first light, and you will end when the trainers say you end." Her attention turned slightly to the womanly figure positioned just a little behind him. 'Is that the mage...?' She pondered quietly to herself. The woman radiated a sense of independence, yet there was something almost... gentle about the way she regarded V'lyn. But Fukyana felt that the gentleness was not to be misinterpreted--for there was also a ruthlessness the sensual woman also seemed to possess. The way she held herself as she stood indicated that this woman was no pushover. Fukyana turned her eyes back to the speaker, perhaps, given time, her new leader.

"... Riena teaches us to use the shadows, she teaches us to kill swiftly and she teaches us to be nothing more than to be silent predators in the dark. We do not kill innocents or go on massacres. The punishment is death. You will be harbringers of peace, and anyone who disturbs this peace is quickly dealt with." She bit her lower lip, retreating a little into herself at his words. Fukayna had never killed a one before, never in all her years. Except... Her eyebrows immediately pinched together and her hand became a rather tight fist. 'No... not here, don't remember.' She shook her head, silver tresses tumbling about faintly as she did so. The gesture was not acknowledged by V'lyn (she doubted if he even saw it) as he continued speaking, his tone becoming more solemn yet... with a hint of annoyance.

"Upon returning from a council meeting with the Order of Vyldi, I was informed about strange events in Lethandrill. The Steward has refused to respond to any messengers sent to the forests, and just recently the last messenger has not returned at all. The Order feels that something may have happened while our attentions have been between ourselves rather than on the elves. Some fear that the Navile may have a hand in their unnatural silence towards us." She caught sight of one of the recruits jeering at his words but that smirk soon faded upon V'lyn's next words.

"For a couple of you this will be your first task. Accompany Jennifer and myself to the city and meet with the Steward. The quicker we get to the bottom of this, the better. The rest of you will train here in the meantime. I'll decide who comes via a sparring match. Your opponent is me. Come to the courtyard when you're ready." First task...? Wait, spar? Her breath caught in her throat and she went to raise herself, perhaps to reach out, to question. But the man did not waste any time in turning from the desk where he had stood and the woman followed suit--the two of them leaving the hall before she had had a chance to approach them. A small feeling of dread was beginning to form in her stomach, a sick feeling she knew all too well.

The hall erupted in a loud hum of conversation, several voices all calling out to one another. Some were panicked, others were more arrogant, but all held a modicum of respect for the pair that they had just witnessed. Yet Fukayna felt none of that. No, the only thing she felt was dread, but it was not at the prospect of her opponent. She turned, going to reach for her weapon and notepad that had been laying down next to her. Yet the only thing on the seat was her halberd and the piece of charcoal, the notepad missing. She frowned, bending over to see if perhaps it had toppled on the ground. A shout of laughter brought her attentions upwards to a larger boy, at least two heads taller than she. Immediately she noticed he gripped her parchment in his large hands.

"And what's this supposed to be for, note-taking?" She did not respond, merely holding out her hand for her parchment back. "Ah, what's that? I can't hear you. Maybe you should try speaking up! Though... at least she has one thing going for her--the silence!" His booming laughter grated on her ears and she ground her teeth together, not amused in the slightest. She reached out, snatching her notepad back in her thin fingers, ignoring his smirk and his demeanor. Immediately she began to write on her parchment, practice having made her speedy and proficient--almost as much as actual vocalization.

"We were just told we would be siblings from here on out. Do you have such a disdainful wish as to disobey V'lyn's words?" He rolled his eyes at her scribbling and scoffed at her.

"Only if we make it past training and the spar--which will determine who belongs here or not." An icy, cool feeling had replaced her dread and she took a deep breath. "Are you sure you even want to try? Sure you even... belong?" The last question only increased the steely feeling and she narrowed her eyes to slits beneath her bangs. Fukayna did not indulge his stupidity any longer and before the pompous idjit could get another word in, she grabbed one of the ends of her wolf fur and smacked him straight across the face. There was a looked of pained shock on his features, well, few suspected she had an assortment of throwing knives and such embedded in the fur after all.

The boy touched his face tensely, a few surprisingly deep cut marks on his cheek from where she had hit him.She straightened her back and turned from him, completely unfazed; the ends of her hair hitting his chest for a double-insult to his masculinity. Her hesitance had disappeared, replaced only by a fierce determination to prove that she truly did belong. She was not such a weak-willed little girl to be pushed around, not like she was when she was a mage. Those days were over and done with. She took her halberd in her hand, the familiar weight settling about.

The young woman walked to the door before anyone else and with a sweep of her eyes that no one else could see, she observed the other recruits one more time before opening the door and shutting it quietly behind her. Her heart pounded in her chest as she walked down the hallway. She had made her decision and exhilaration mixed with anticipation bubbled inside of her as she made her way to the courtyard. Despite how loudly her heart seemed to beat in her ears, her movements were quiet, parallel to that of a wraith. Fukayna gripped her weapon more tightly, following the curves and turns of the halls before finally approaching a pair of large, ornate, ebony doors.

Now that she had come so far, she might as well see the whole thing through to the end. She raised her hand and pushed at the doors, the slow, wooden creak that came with the motion adding to the tense feeling in the air. Still, she pursed her lips and did not pay it any heed. Her weakened demeanor that she had displayed in the hall had all but faded, leaving in it's wake a passion to be one of the select few to be chosen for the mission. With this at the forefront of her mind, Fukayna took several more steps forward, cautiously approaching the man who was to be her opponent.

Talon V'lyn

Night (approx. 11pm)

His arms were crossed over his chest as he stood out in the middle of the training courtyard. His thoughts had gone back to the tasks at hand that he had to deal with. Jennifer's earlier reprimand had him feeling a little bit guilty, but at the same time it told him that she was still in love with him. He knew that his schedule interfered a lot with their plans, and he also knew that she despised it most days. He made a mental note to make it all up to her once he was finished with the Order of Vyldi.

Talon turned at the sound of the double doors opening. The first one to leave the room was the girl that Jennifer had said was a bit mysterious. He eyed her carefully as she approached him. There was determination in her steps as she moved towards him. He lifted an eyebrow as he looked down at her, then gave a small smile as he jerked his head off to the side, directing her of where to stand while he waited for more students. It wasn't long after she came that the others followed. One in particular looked a bit worse for wear that when Talon had last set eyes on him.

Following the large boy were three others who stepped out into the courtyard. He commended them on their bravery to face him, and his smile turned from one of gentleness to one of wicked planning, something he'd picked up from Jennifer. Uncrossing his arms he watched the rest of the recruits file out into the courtyard, but none stepped forward. With a huff, he knew that those were the ones who wouldn't last long in Skyfall's assassins guild. As with the young woman he pointed to where she was standing and the three young men went over to stand next to her.

"Brave," he muttered as he stood before them. His eyes landed on the one with the new cuts to his face, "You're first. Step forward," the young man did as he was asked, though Talon could see that the boy had visibly gulped at suddenly being chosen, "Tell me, what happened to your face?"

The young man's face turned red as he stood there, no words coming to his mouth. Talon took it as a sign and without warning grabbed the young man and threw him to the ground. The boy coughed at the impact and rolled to his hands and knees. Talon moved quickly, coming back at him. The boy had quick reflexes, the assassin had to admit. His kick was blocked and he was pulled forward over the boy's body. Talon went with it, not resisting at all as he fell to the ground and rolled. Turning his body easily, he faced the boy who'd gotten up and was right behind him. Talon sent out a sharp kick the boys knee, dropping him. In the blink of an eye, Talon was right in front of the boy with his dagger drawn and held at his throat.

"You're not even close to being ready," he muttered to the boy in irritation. Leaning closer, he took a handful of the boy's shirt and held him still, "I don't care what happened in that room when I left. But whom ever you were harassing in there is your sister or brother now. You're lucky I've too much to do right now otherwise I would have you punished here and now. I think humiliation is good enough for the moment. Do it again and you'll not get off so easily," Talon growled to the boy and threw him hard into the ground.

He stood and walked away from the prone recruit, sheathing his dagger as he went. His hand flicked out and he motioned for the second boy to come at him. He sparred with the second recruit for a little while longer than the first one, but the end result was the same. Standing up from tossing the young boy aside, Talon sighed heavily and ran his hand through his hair.

"At this rate it might just be you and I, Jennifer," he called to the beautiful mage was watching the fighting from the sidelines. Turning he set his blue-grey gaze upon the girl who was the first to walk out to him. He lifted his hand and motioned to her to step forward. He was hoping that she would be a much better opponent than the others. It had been a long time since he'd had a good fight and he was eager for one.

City Lethandrill : Fay X'san

Early Morning, Next Day

The large city before her was entwined in the trees themselves. The silvery gates were opened and guards stood on either side of the dirty path that led into the city from the forest. The trees beyond were tall, thick and had been carved into to create the homes and stairwells that twisted up around the huge trees. Her heart was in her throat as she gazed upon the grand city of Lethandrill before her. Fay had traveled for many days alone to get to where she stood just then. She missed having people around her, she missed having companionship. However, her curiosity was what drove her to leave the forests of Navile.

Slowly she approached the city, making her way passed the guards and into the bustle of elven community. There was a strange feeling in the air as she passed the gates. Her thigh high boots made soft sounds against the dirt and underbrush of leaves that fell from the tall trees. Her light leather clothing clung to her form, hugging her in such a way that she knew she stood out amongst her lighter skinned brethren. She was sure that many of them knew what she was, even without asking her. Her skin was paler than theirs, but held a kind of tint that could only come from the Tow'nak. Her dark silky hair was pinned half up, strands of it falling into her face and making its way down to her shoulders. Her ears were sharper in point than the Lethandrill's, and her eyes were more oval than rounded, like almonds.

Fay made her way through the city, feeling the tension in the air around her. Something strange was going on, the people were giving off a kind of scent... a bitter scent. She felt chills run up her spine as she moved through the main street. Were they afraid of her? No, that couldn't possibly be it. Something else was making them uneasy. As she walked, she could hear the whispers of voices about the Steward, the man she was going to meet. There was something about him cutting off communications from the other Orders. Others said that the Steward was afraid of losing his seat on the throne and that he was drunk with power, a power that was slowly making him go mad.

Of course, all of this was spoken in hushed tones. So that was where all of this fear was coming from. Fay turned her gaze to the palace near the center of the city. It was the only structure that wasn't built from the trees. It's marble walls were brilliant and reflected the single ray of sunlight that shot down through the upper canopy. She picked up her pace and moved quickly through the throng of elves. If the rumors were true, she wanted her business over with as soon as possible. Fay didn't like what she was hearing, and the smoother she could make things go for herself and the clan of Navile, the better.

An expert tumble was all he needed to end it, and the second fight was decided. Talon was a phantom under the violent twilight, so swift his movements where a blur to the eye, but Jennifer knew he was capable of being faster. For most of the young whelps though, his experience alone was more than sufficient. It was too bad then her blood was still simmering from his earlier escapade, preventing her from enjoying the duels like usual. Discarding his subsequent opponent without breaking a sweat, Talon gave a despondent sigh.

"At this rate it might just be you and I, Jennifer," he boasted to her. The beautiful mage he alluded to sat by the closest stone bench on offer, observing the proceedings silently like the enigmatic woman she was. No one dared to disturb her. She’d become infamous during Talon’s reconstruction of the order. Some regarded her highly for the changes she’d instilled in their leader. Others viewed her as a poisonous witch, controlling and influencing Talon from behind the scenes, which wasn't entirely false to be fair.

Comfortably reclined into the back of her furniture, Jennifer snorted derisively, “Careful now Lord V’lyn. I'll have to teach you a lesson in humility in the event you lose now.” She gave him a suitably dire expression, her cruel smirk leaving no room for argument. If he didn’t perform as expected, she would literally torture him. It was their usual banter.

The time was almost midnight, but nonetheless a small audience had gathered to marvel at their flaunted leader, or laugh at the hopeful prospectors. The mage wasn’t surprised at either phenomenon. It was entirely within conjecture for the Order of Riena, a group of stealthy assassins, to thrive at night. Talon had already beckoned for his next opponent to approach and Jennifer’s eyes narrowed as the sleek haired Fukayna stepped forwards in response. The silver wolf pelts which coated her arms swayed gracefully as she stopped a few feet from Talon, her expression masked under tufts of white hair.

“Maybe you two should share hairdressers,” she said, breaking into a slight chuckle. Jennifer was of course referring to the trim of black hair Talon used to conceal his own scar. It's unbearable length had been the source of her irritation on more than one occasion.

For most people, it was the lingering threat of being attacked which unraveled them. Talon had long since surpassed such basic notions. Within his steely gaze Jennifer could distinguish his hunger for a decent opponent, yearning, growling like he’d been deprived of a necessity. Unable to discern his opponent's features, Jennifer frowned for Fukayna. "Try not to be too hard on him dear, he maybe a little slow at first," she said, egging the dark woman on.

She was taken in by the sights of the large courtyard, surprised truly at how open the space was. Quite the appropriate location for a spar. Fukayna's vision was brought to the center of the area, where V'lyn stood. He merely cocked an eyebrow but surprised her as he flashed her a small smile and gestured for her to wait on the sidelines. She complied, the gold ringlets in her hair giving a metallic ring as she bowed her head a bit in respect. As she turned to face the center of the courtyard again, having chosen a place to stand in, she noticed many more of the recruits filing in one by one. Not a one of them seemed to have the nerve to approach V'lyn and he shoo'd them off to the side near where she was standing.

The arrogant one was only a few paces from her but she held her chin up, refusing to have him deter her thoughts. The man walked in front of each of them, surveying them, taking them in closely. It almost felt as if he were analyzing each of them, breaking down their skills and the challenge they could possibly present him. His voice was soothing, almost, commending each of them for having enough nerve to stand up to him. But Fukayna knew that it was merely pretty talk and he confirmed her suspicions when his smile took on a playfully wicked tint. V'lyn came to stand in front of the idjit and spoke evenly.

"You're first. Step forward. Tell me, what happened to your face?" The boy who had stepped forward seemed to tremble and Fukayna raised one of her hands in front of her face to cover a small smile. Oops. Well, not really. She watched with an amount of wonder as the man seemed to flow with the movements of his opponent. The boy attempted to be fast on the uptake but he was not nearly skilled enough and it did not take long for V'lyn to have him cornered and a dagger to his throat. He leaned in, muttering something to the boy. Whatever it was made the recruit flush an even deeper red, the type that just radiated humiliation.

The other fight was over just as quickly, V'lyn quickly dispatching the opponent that came up against him. Beneath her bangs, her eyes were wide with intrigue--she had never seen anyone move so smoothly before. She doubted that she would be able to beat him but then again, the objective of this exercise didn't seem to be to win... Before she knew it, one more had fallen and that firm gaze was now turned upon her. Fukayna felt her cheeks heat up a bit now that all eyes seemed to be on her, the older man gesturing for her to come forwards. Her gaze flicked over to the woman, whose figure radiated a sense of cool control.

“Maybe you two should share hairdressers,” The words were followed by a chuckle, the small girl's lips upturning in the slightest of smiles at the joke. The expression was, at best, faintly there and Fukayna doubted anyone else could have noticed that she smiled at the joke. With her weapon clasped in her hand, she walked forwards, stopping just a few meters in front of V'lyn. She blinked at him and quickly took out her notepad. The others merely stared at her, no one else had even bothered to try to converse with V'lyn before the battle. The man waited respectfully for her to finish and she held up her piece of parchment.

"I look forward to the challenge and hope I can provide you the same." Her smile widened just a tad but was still rather small beneath her bangs; but was genuine, at the very least. She heard a faint tsk from her left and the musing voice of the mage reached her ears.

"Try not to be too hard on him dear, he maybe a little slow at first," Looking between V'lyn and the mage, she quickly scribbled on her notepad once more and held up her response quietly for the woman.

"I'll try, but no promises." She tried to feel as bold as the words that she wrote as she laid her pad gently on the ground. Fukayna now held her weapon with two hands, taking a more offensive stance. She took a deep breath and readied herself. She knew he would not take the first strike and she thrust forwards with her weapon, covering the distance between them easily. Unsurprisingly, he easily swerved to evade her attack. She had been expecting this and turned her wrist, the weapon now arcing in the direction he had dodged in.

[Q] Talon's grin returned to his face as the woman came at him. She was fast, and he liked that. The staff came at him quickly, aiming straight for his stomach. He turned sideways, dodging the attack, but apparently she'd anticipated it and the weapon followed him. The hard wood smacked hard into his ribs and he took the hit, wrapping one arm around the weapon as he stumbled backwards. Pulling on her long halberd, he brought her close to him before releasing the weapon with her still attached to it. Sidestepping her, he watched her carefully to see if she would recover from being thrown to the side. Only then did he unsheath his dagger in preparation for her next attempt. [Q]

Fukayna was surprised when her weapon actually made contact but did not have much time to revel in this fact as she felt herself being tugged closer. The force of his push sent her staggering to the ground and biting her lip a bit. It was clear he was the physical superior in this match--she'd have to be more careful if she had any hope of surviving for a time. Using the momentum from the push, she pressed the hilt of her halberd to the ground and spun around, straightening herself. She wasted no time in adjusting her grip and tried a slightly different approach, jabbing the tip of her weapon at his feet. If she were lucky, he would take the bait and jump up a bit, which would give her just the right angling to swipe at his midriff.

[Q] She righted herself fairly quickly and came at him without pause. Talon caught sight of her jab to his boots and he reacted immediately. However, he wasn't anticipating her sweeping at him as soon as he'd jumped backwards a bit to avoid the first attack. The harlberd connected with his stomach, knocking the wind from him and forcing him to double over from the blow.

Her long ranged weapon was hard to defend against, especially since it was wielding much differently than a sword. Once again, he took hold of the long staff like weapon and pulled her in close. Using her weapon against her, he pushed the staff at her exposed side hoping that his strength would overwhelm her instead. If he hit her hard enough, she'd drop the weapon. Talon would see then how good she was at close combat. [Q]

The attack connected and the girl felt almost exhilarated at this fact--the swipe knocking a bit of wind out of V'lyn. Maybe this wouldn't be as difficult as she thought! As soon as this thought crossed her mind, however, her opponent seemed to alter his approach, using his superior strength to edge through her defenses. Her weapon hit her side but unlike with V'lyn, it did not simply knock the wind out of her.

Fukayna winced visibly, her somewhat delicate frame unable to keep balanced under the pressure. Her fingers trembled and released her halberd from their grip. The weapon clattered to the ground and she withdrew her breath in hesitance. She had not expected to be disarmed quite so easily and it threw her off a bit. Attempting to regain herself, she took several steps backwards to put as much space as she could manage between her and V'lyn.

She chanced a glance downwards, a red bruise already beginning to form where she had been hit. She forced herself to ignore it and now loosened the furs that had been so tightly wound around her arms. She took some breaths, trying to evaluate his behavior before striking again.

[Q] The young woman took several steps back. Apparently distance was her strength. Had he not disarmed her, she probably could have overwhelmed him with that long (and irritating) halberd of hers. Talon's lips curved upward as he crouched slightly and lunged at her. He covered the distance quickly, drawing two throwing knives as he went. He'd seen her flipping her long furs and figured that she had something planned with them.

Throwing the weapons, he collided into her as the knives hit the furs. He didn't think they'd gone through the material, but it should have distracted her enough to keep her from using the ends of the furs as a weapon. Talon wasn't sure how she was going to use the soft material against him, but he wasn't about to underestimate her either. If she was an assassin, she'd have some hidden tricks along the way.

He straddled her as they were on the ground, his dagger pulled from the sheath and against her throat. He sat there for a moment before he slowly stood up and replaced his weapon. [Q]

Fukayna sat up gradually and hesitantly, her breath nervously hitching in her chest. She was shaking slightly, the fight had worn her out a bit but it had seemed fairly short. She chanced a glance at him as he stood, apprehensively listening as he spoke firmly.

"Go get ready," he ordered, "You'll be coming with Jennifer and me to Lethandrill. We leave in a few hours." What...? Her breath caught somewhere in her throat, her mind dizzy with what he had just said. V'lyn was already turning away as he started to make his way towards the front of the assassins guild. The girl blinked several times before a smile worked it's way onto her lips. She had passed! The ache on her side protested as she made to stand up shakily but she didn't pay it any mind. Fukayna wasn't making it any point to hide her relief as she picked up her scattered belongs, the halberd and her notepad, holding both closely to her person.

She tilted her heads towards the rejected recruits, the boy who had so outlandishly spoken to her earlier now just regarding her in shock and (what appeared to be) envy. She removed her gaze from him and looked back over towards the mage, the beautiful woman's expression a little difficult to interpret. Fukayna couldn't tell if the woman was proud or just observing the events with amusement. In either respect, the silver haired girl bowed a bit to show her respect before turning on her heel to walk towards the large doors that led out of the courtyard. She would not have much to pack, given when she had left the previous Order, she had not had much time to take much with her. Still, even those memories could not do much to dash her mood and her smile was still upon her face as she went to open the doors out to the hall.

Fay X'san

Her feet brought her up the steps to the palace quickly. Her leather wrappings creaked as she took the steps. Fay consciously knew she really stood out against the crowd of Lethandrill. Her attire was probably less than pleasing to many, especially with the amount of skin she was showing. Her entire back was nearly exposed and her lower abdomen, only straps of leather buckles crisscrossed along her body, holding tightly to her chest a light piece of leather. Strapped to her lower back was her quiver, her crossbow in a sheath underneath that, and then her short sword and long knife on either hip.

Fay got to the top step and stopped, her gaze swept the area. She turned and looked out into the city. The crushing feel of fear still followed her throughout the city. The Navile wasn't sure how to deal with what she was feeling. In any case, her eyes went from one side of Lethandrill to the other until they landed on someone who looked to be a beggar. He was dressed as one at least and was leaning up against a carved out home or shop near the palace. Fay didn't have time to give him any more attention as a voice from behind her startled her.

"State you're business."

Turning she was met with an elf who eyed her suspiciously but hadn't drawn any weapons on her. She gave him her best smile and tried to look as non-threatening as possible.

"I'm here to see the Steward. He should know I'm coming. We sent word before I left Navile."

"You're Navile?"

"Yes," she said, her smile faltering somewhat.

The guard arched an eyebrow at her, his hand reaching down for his sword. Fay swallowed hard and slowly raised her hands to him. The elf only gripped the handle of his weapon as he slowly stepped to the side, "I'll take you to him. But should something happen, I won't hesitate."

Fay only nodded slightly. She was unused to such treatment and wasn't sure on how to react to his unease with her presence. Was she really all that dangerous? Either way, she was there to convince the Steward of Lethandrill that the Navile were just as peaceful as they were.

Talon V'lyn

Morning, arrival at Lethandrill

The assassin pulled his horse to a stop as they came near the cities entrance. It had been a long ride to the city, and it was late in the afternoon. Talon was more than happy to be out of Skyfall, more so than he thought he would be. He didn't think getting away from his other duties would feel so refreshing. He looked at the gates of the city that were opened and admitting travelers. Turning to Jennifer he gave her a slight shrug and flicked the reigns of his mount. They moved into the city with the horses and the throng of elves slowly parted for them. It was quite as full as the other cities, but there were still plenty of elves in the street.

Slowly he led the way towards the palace at the back of the city, near its center. It was the only building structure in the city. Everything else was carved out of the large trees. Talon dismounted and made his way up the steps quickly. The lack of guards unnerved him slightly as he approached the entrance to the palace. He felt uneasy for some reason and his hand reached back and took hold of his dagger in reassurance.

Pushing the door open, he moved into the building. The assassin moved stealthily through the long hall and deep into the marble palace that was home to the Steward of the city. However, the closer he got to the council room at the back, the heavier the air felt. He could feel Riena's presence grow stronger the closer he got to his destination. The shadows curled around him, clutching him as if they didn't want to let him go. It was a feeling that he'd grown so accustom to that it didn't even register that the darkness was moving on its own accord to follow him.

The door to the council room was cracked open and from within he heard a loud, sharp voice yelling out. It wasn't until he'd gotten to the door and started pushing it open that Talon could discern what was being said. The Steward was in an uproar, his body pressed tightly at the back of the throne and his beady gaze glaring down at a young woman.

"Navile! You're dangerous! You don't even realize how dangerous you are, woman! That is why you and your kind are separated from the rest of us. You don't know what kind of power you hold, and if you don't know what you have, you don't know how to control it. And here you are, trying to convince us that you're harmless?! Are you a fool?"

"My Lord, please. If you would just hear me out-"

"Hear you out? The more you speak the more deluded you sound. You're trying to convince yourself that you're not a threat," the Steward growled back, leaning forward at her.

"My Lord, we are far from dangerous," the woman continued, trying to hold her ground.

"You don't think you're dangerous. Here, allow me to show you just how threatening you are to not only yourselves, but us as well," the Steward stood up and raised his hand at the young woman. A strange power pulsed from under the long sleeve of his doublet. Talon couldn't see exactly what was on the man's arm, only catching a flash of silver. The young woman gasped and took a step back as she too could feel the magic pulsing in the air.

Talon didn't think twice as he rushed into the room and pushed the woman behind him, raising his arm with the bracer to counter the attack. Brilliant silver light flooded his arm and expanded with the power of the Old God. Both men's magic collided and filled the room with a loud resounding boom as well as a shock wave of hot air. As soon as the magic faded away, Talon lowered his hand and turned his now steel colored eyes upwards towards the Steward who glared down at him. It took the man only a few moments to realize who it was that stood before him.

The assassin scoffed heavily, "Ordered to come and check up on the the Steward of Lethandrill and this is what I find. Not a great way to greet one from the Order of Riena, Torak."

"L-Lord V'lyn... I did not realize you were coming. If you'd only sent word I would have had an escort ready for you and have you welcomed into my grand city properly."

"I can find my own way," Talon snapped back, his patience wearing thin. The assassin straightened and crossed his arms, "I've been asked to speak with you on certain matters. Is there somewhere we can talk privately?"

"Y-Yes, Lord V'lyn. Follow me to my office. We can speak there," Torak said and stood slowly. The man descended from the throne and turned to the door at the back of the throne room. Talon looked towards the Steward who waited for him, giving him an icy glare before turning to Jennifer, "I'm sure you know what to do, Jennifer. Take the elf with you, it's probably not safe to leave her alone in the city. Fukayna, go with Jennifer. Search this city from top to bottom. And be careful," he said, his eyes lingering on Jennifer for a while longer before he turned and followed Torak into the private chamber.

Armen Sorien

He couldn't feel his arms, they were numb and the burning had long since passed. He'd been visited by Torak a several times since his imprisonment, and each time hadn't been pleasant. His body wore the signs of the Stewards confusing distress. Dried blood caked his tattered shirt, blood was on his face and in his hair as well. Armen was sure a few ribs were broken, or cracked. It was hard to breath and he fell in and out of consciousness often.

It was during one of his lapses that he was startled awake by a loud sound overhead. The boom resounded through the cold dungeon. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he could only hope that someone was there to assess the Steward and hopefully figure out the man's sudden change in demeanor. Armen didn't care about himself, per-say, he just wanted to make sure that no one else fell under Torak's crazed tendencies.

Armen coughed, his mind reeling as he tried to focus. How long had he been down there? Quite a while, probably three, maybe four days. He hadn't had anything to eat and he'd had very little water. Torak hadn't made any sense each time he'd come down to see Armen. He always spoke of Armen being in his way, someone of great danger to him. The elf didn't understand a word that the Steward uttered. Slowly, his head fell forward and he slipped back into unconsciousness.

Dressed in a clean uniform and a brown leather jacket, backpack swung over the sides of her mount, Jennifer rode her horse beside Talon’s. The mage took a liberal swig from her water canteen and eyeballed the spectacle, Lethandril, as the forest city rose up to meet them out of the corner of her eye. Above them, the receding daylight rolled through the jungle canopy with a wild stain of green, and with it came the mating calls of the native fauna. Over the course of their journey Jennifer had already warmed up to Fukayna. Finding the younger woman’s chosen method for communication and silent reverence utterly adorable, she’d taken every opportunity to probe the new assassin with a random set of questions.

Lethandril was an utterly monotonous sight in Jennifer’s opinion, not convincing in the slightest. She could never fathom the elves’ appeal of living inside of a tree, tree houses were for kids. They also made excellent bonfires. The noise level only became more copious as they reached the entrance to elven metropolis, so she had to train hard to focus her thoughts for the next part.

A little of her illusion magic helped the group evade the city’s security checks unnoticed. Jennifer looked towards Talon as they passed under the gaping arch of the front gate, catching the assassin’s ambiguous shrug, and sighed. Replacing her water canister back into its original position, she took the lead and trotted ahead of him. He was obviously enjoying the opportunity to stretch his legs, the assassin possessing something of an elated aura about him ever since they’d left Skyfall. Yet just yesterday he’d been complaining about having to travel. Sometimes she couldn’t understand what Talon was thinking. The initial crowd had been debilitating but once they were clear of the entrance maneuverability became less of an issue.

They only stopped to dismount upon reaching their marble objective. The steward’s palace stuck out like a sore thumb in comparison to the raw natural architecture of its surroundings, but Jennifer could see that its builders had gone to great lengths to ensure the structure blended in as much as possible. They hadn’t relegated themselves to the functional boxes of mankind. Instead they fully embraced the innate curvature of their environment and decorated its surface with an elegant attention to detail. The only problem now was where were the guards? Unless the disheveled beggar which sat by the side street is what constituted as this city’s palace guard, there was no evidence of standard accepted safety measures. Judging by the way Talon instinctively reached for his weapons, she guessed he’d noticed the oddity also.

Without stopping to inform Fukayna what was going on, she followed Talon in through the doorway, trusting the darker woman to know how to conduct herself. Jennifer kept pace with Talon surprisingly easily. Where Talon relied on the shadows to remain hidden, Jennifer relied on her magic. After all, why hide in the corner when you could hide in plain sight? The only sign of activity came from the council room, unsurprisingly. Jennifer could already hear the raised voices as they rounded a corner just beyond the emblazoned double doors. Unlike Talon, she didn’t need to look to understand that two figures where in a heated discussion behind the doorway, so she kept a watchful eye out on their surroundings. Going by sound alone, it was easy to determine the one doing the yelling was male, his bombastic voice containing noticeably more bass compared to the other, more feminine tone. It was clear this man was Torak.

"You don't think you're dangerous. Here, allow me to show you just how threatening you are to not only yourselves, but us as well."

She huffed at the man's insufferable tone, blowing her fringe away from her face to expel the immediate urge to burn Torak to cinders. Things where beginning to get dangerous alright, but just before Jennifer could act, Talon rushed out ahead of her. The sudden motion bewildered her just before the resultant magic explosion whipped her dark hair wildly around her face, leaving her in a temporary state of shock. Her heart froze as she searched for Talon in alarm, but thankfully, he was unharmed. Jennifer immediately set her scornful glare upon Torak. Her lithe form stalked through the settling dust mist as raw magic, unrefined and crackling, congregated threateningly in her palms. How dare he attack Talon.

Once again Talon was a step ahead of her, his commanding voice compelling the steward, and by extension Jennifer, to withdraw, "Ordered to come and check up on the Steward of Lethandrill and this is what I find. Not a great way to greet one from the Order of Riena, Torak."

"L-Lord V'lyn... I did not realize you were coming. If you'd only sent word I would have had an escort ready for you and have you welcomed into my grand city properly." Torak stuttered.

Jennifer readjusted her pose as her anger sizzled down into something manageable, her magic fading alongside it. Taking a moment to straighten her clothes and hair, she looked towards Fukayna to check their companion was still with them. The dark skinned woman looked fine really, and Jennifer wouldn’t have been at all surprised if she’d experienced worse. “Are you okay?” she asked the younger woman, just to be sure. Once Jennifer received a satisfactory response from Fukayna she turned her gaze to address Talon.

"I'm sure you know what to do, Jennifer. Take the elf with you, it's probably not safe to leave her alone in the city. Fukayna, go with Jennifer. Search this city from top to bottom. And be careful," Talon order.

“Do what?!” the mage’s face scrunched up in opposition to the idea. It was a fruitless protest. Watching him leave, Jennifer felt her anger flare up again, but she resisted it tenaciously. “You,” she said, finally addressing the Navile girl with cheery smile that wasn’t at all pleasant, “Come with me.”

Jennifer led the trio back into the growing darkness outside and down the front steps. The sun setting in the horizon had now begun piercing the leafy veil with its fiery hue, lighting aspects of the forest city with a fake autumn effect. “Fukayna, search the palace dungeons. If something which still exists is to be found, it’ll be there,” Jennifer said, using her illusion magic to construct a conversation only they were having, “Careful not to get caught now either. Wouldn't want you getting tortured for information would we? Although, making you talk would probably be more difficult than the average person...”

Releasing Fukayna from her magical thralls, Jennifer leered at the Navile woman then, “Your name first,” she demanded, in no mood for pleasantries. Abruptly her voice lowered, all the while retaining her wicked smile, “Then you’re going to tell me what happen before we arrived, because, let’s just say fanatical rulers are the least of your worries at the moment,” she continued, her deepening voice becoming ever so slightly sinister.

((So this will take place the day after the sample. :D ))

It had taken Astrid a good long time to get back to Skyfall. A lot of walking. The reason she was walking was that Stephano (in her own opinion) was being a whiny little bitch. So what if she had tried to get rid of him again? There might have been creatures in that dark and dank forest that would have appreciated a fire breathing dragon. Or a quick snack. She really wasn't all too picky. But Stephano had kicked up a major stink about it and was being a totally ass about it. And had point blank refused to fly her back home. Resulting in a walk. Astrid hated walking. She also hated Stephano. She couldn't help but find an uncanny link between the two. Stephano made her walk. So as revenge, she may have "accidentally" stood on the dragon's tail. And dropped things on said tail. But these were just total accidents, of course.

"Of course it was, dear. That log could have hit anyone. Stephano cut into Astrid's thoughts, his voice filled with scorn.

"Stephano, love, if you use any more sarcasm, we're going to need a mop." Astrid mused, her boots clicking against the pavement. Ah, Skyfall. Her home, the only one she had ever known. She looked around and grinned, drinking in the welcome sight.

"I knew I'd get here eventually! Even if you were being a total prick about everything." Astrid remarked, as she hurried towards her destination. She had to report back that her target would not be orchestrating anymore crimes.

"Well, you did try to kill me. I feel I am slightly justified in my ire." Her dragon added, rolling his yellow eyes. He stretched his huge wings, feeling very relaxed. Astrid had carried him to Skyfall on her back and Stephano had thoroughly enjoyed the rest. The shadows of his wings gave Astrid the impression of being an angel. The assassin laughed at this.

"Yep, that's me! The angel of death." The young woman pulled tired body into a heroic pose and laughed at the shadow on the pavement. Ha. Her an angel? There was a snowball's chance in hell. And that was being optimistic about everything.

"Are you quite done yet?" Stephano asked, uncurling himself from his position and taking flight. Astrid watched as her dragon soared into the sky, stretching his wings out. Tiredly, the young woman raised a hand and grabbed her dragon's tail. Stephano flew in an arc in panic, throwing the assassin through an open window. She landed somewhat gracefully in the middle of the floor. She looked up, eyes still closed.

"Honey! I'm hooome!" Astrid stretched out her long arms and felt the welcome presence of Stephano wrapping himself around her lithe body. She opened her eyes and found she was in a briefing room. She looked down at her sandy brown companion and found herself staring into some very unamused eyes.

"Was that really necessary?"

"I like to make an entrance." Astrid replied, brushing herself down.

"One day, these entrances will get you killed." Stephano grumbled at his partner, tail whipping around to show his distaste.

"Well, that time we fell in on those two assassins in compromising positions almost got us killed." Astrid offered with a cheeky smile, reminiscing about all the people she had disrupted and shocked by literarily falling from the sky.

"Ah yes. My poor ears have never been the same since that day. Really, I never knew that so many words could be used in such a vulgar way. And really, again, was that entrance really necessary?" Stephano asked, snorting as he himself remembered all the people they had frightened.

"Well, I didn't want to walk in! I'm too tired for that rubbish." Astrid shrugged.

"The door was only two metres away from you! The dragon looked up incredulously at his companion.

"What can I say? I really hate walking." With that, the assassin turned on her heel and both dragon and woman were surprised to find a group of recruits standing behind them.

"Umm...how long have you guys been there?" Astrid asked, scratching the back of her head. Really, they could have said something to let her know there were other people in the room. Did no one have manners nowadays? One young man stepped forward a little and cleared his thoat.

"S-since you a-arrived, Miss." The recruit stuttered, his eyes drinking in the view of the bow and the dragon wrapped around her torso.

"Oh. So, what are you guys doing here? Where's V'lyn?" Astrid asked, propping herself up on the wooden table behind her.

"He's in t-the training courtyard, sparring with s-some of the other recruits." He stuttered, blinking back his fear.

"Ooh, that sounds juicy. Why is he sparring with you guys?"

"Indeed. Why is V'lyn sparring with the recruits? Other than to demolish your dwindling self-confidence." Stephano added, his large yellow unblinking eyes focusing on the man speaking. The poor recruit's confidence had taken a massive swan dive after the dragon had started talking.

"I-It can talk?!" The man asked, eyes wide. Stephano regarded the human in front of him as one would look at something unsavory on the bottom of their shoe.

"Just ignore the dragon. He's not here. Really. Well. Actually. Do any of you want a dragon? He'd make a good guard dog. Or companion. Or meal." Astrid stated, leaning forward on the desk. She was enjoying herself, the recruits looked terrified. These wimps will never last.

"Once again, I am not a piece of meat to be served with a salad side dish. I do wish you would stop trying to encourage people to eat me. And no. None of you can keep me. I am not an object or a pet." Stephano snarled at the group, envoking a strangled cry from one of the men. Pathetic, really.

"Phew. Touchy. Anyways, so why is V'lyn sparring with the newbies?" Astrid asked, playing with her bow. Stephano dismissed the recruits in favour of snuggling into the back of his assassin's neck.

"He said s-something about a-accompanying him o-on some j-journey." The man squeaked. Astrid leapt off the tablen having heard all she needed to know and gave the group a little mock curtsey.

"Why thank you for telling me what I needed to know. I know for a fact that most of you lot will never see me again. Well, I may see you again but you will never see me." And with a feral grin and a twirl of one of her arrows, Astrid flounced out of the briefing hall, leaving a group of rather shell shocked recruits in her wake.

"Was that really necessary?" Stephano asked, rolling his eyes as Astrid almost skipped towards the training courtyard.

"Nope but it sure was fun!" The assassin replied with a giggle. She raced round the twisting turning corridors until she reached the large ebony doors.

Astrid thought about knocking but quickly dismissed the idea. You had to make an impression on these new guys or they'd never respect you. So with bow in grasp, quiver on back and dragon suitably irritated and grouchy; Astrid reared up her leg and kicked the door open with a bit more force than was needed. The door flung open and hit the wall with a loud hollow thud. A moment or two of silence was created before the young assassin entered the room, her boots clicking against the flooring. She turned to face the occupants of the room with a cheeky grin.

"Honey! I'm home! ...Again!" Astrid looked around the empty courtyard.

“OH BUGGERY HELL. Am I late? I’m usually late for stuff like this...” The assassin pondered what to do. She was bored. She had no assignments. She had nothing to do. Following the band of people on this journey was sounding more and more fun.

"Don't do it, you insufferable fool. You'll get us both in trouble. And being on the bad side of Lord V'lyn is not a nice place to be." Stephano snarled with more than a hint of pleading in his voice. The young woman brushed this worry off and looked around the courtyard for something, anything.

"Ah ha!"

"Oh Riena, what have you found now?" The dragon asked, lowering himself to the floor. He stood on his four feet, looking at whatever Astrid had spotted this time.

"Look! The Lord is on a possibly dangerous journey and he forgot...his cloak!" Astrid grabbed a forgotten garment from the corner of the courtyard. Stephano looked at her with barely constrained disbelief.

"Umm, I'm rather sure that is not his cl-"

"HE FORGOT HIS CLOAK. It is my duty as an assassin to return it! Just in case he needs it!" Astrid finished with a flourish of the material and got in stuck over her head. The young woman attempted to pull the cloak off her head and in a decidedly ungraceful movement, fell flat on her back. Stephano rolled his eyes and launched himself to sit regally on her stomach.

"Holy crap, Stephano! I've been underestimating your weight."

"Please. Carry on your senseless mocking. You'll have a good long time to ruin my self confidence as you walk to Lethandrill." The dragon smirked, his eyebrow ridges raised and blinking innocently.

"I hate you, you scaly meal on legs." Astrid grumbled, pouting at the weight on her chest.

"I know. So, are you actually serious about this?"

"Course I am! I mean, when have I ever been wrong?!" Stephano decided not to deign that with an answer and simply stretched out his wings, allowing Astrid to climb upon his back.

"I still hate you though." The young assassin told her companion as he took off out of the door, trying to get a running start.

"I got that, dear. But just remember, I'm a dragon. We don't come with seatbelts and I do enjoy a barrel roll sometimes." The dragon told his precious (not that he would ever admit it) cargo in a tone of voice that was better suited to discussing the weather.

Astrid decided not to answer and entertained herself by sticking her tongue out at the back of Stephano’s head.

”I will accidently kill you if you don’t stop that and it will be funny. To me at least. Now stop acting like a petulant child.” The dragon grumbled a smile sneaking its way onto his face as he leapt into the air and took flight. Astrid scowled and settled in for the journey. Not that she would have to settle for long. She knew that the Stephano express was one speedy little bugger and before long she would be in Lethandrill.

So what if Stephano was still being a whiny little bitch?

At least listening to him whining whilst flying beat listening to him whining, being forced to walk. Astrid smiled happily and before long, their destination was in just on the horizon.

Fukayna fumbled a little with her reigns, never exactly having ridden a horse before. She had blushed profusely in the morning upon discovering V'lyn's chosen method of travel and shyly attempted to communicate she had no idea how to ride the large beast. It had been the mage, no, Miss Jennifer as she now referred to her as, that had chuckled and helped her figure out how to ride the horse. It had not been easy and Fukayna had floundered quite a bit for the first hour or so of travel. Miss Jennifer had taken the opportunity to ride besides her, seemingly able to keep asking an endless stream of questions. The small girl tried her best to answer them, and fortunately, none were too probing. Merely curious requests as to how she felt of V'lyn, the Order, the mage herself, when she began fighting...

The early hours of the morning dwindled by in this fashion and it wasn't long before they had come to arrive in Lethandrill. Fukayna was surprised how quickly the journey had seemed to go, then again, with battling with her reigns and attempted writing on her notepad at intervals, she had been rather distracted. Miss Jennifer rode ahead of everyone, a mystical air about her. Fukayna only need watch those lips begin to form syllables before registering that the woman was casting an illusionary spell. The touch of the magic felt nostalgic and made her yearn to feel it from beneath her own fingertips but she shook that thought off quickly.

The city was grandly decorated but no building more so than the steward's palace. The group came to a halt and dismounted (embarrassingly, she required Miss Jennifer's help to get down from her saddle but was light-weight enough where she didn't it was much of a bother). However, something felt... off. There were no guards positioned outside of the palace and Fukayna was absolutely sure that with someone as important as the steward, guards should normally be abound and plentiful in number. Both V'lyn and Miss Jennifer tensely darted forwards, ill at ease and observant. The silver tressed girl's mind did not take long to process that both were using different methods to conceal themselves as they walked through the main doors and into the hallways.

Fukayna chose her preferred option, one that truly utilized her wraith like capabilities. Her movements were completely inaudible as she wrapped herself in her furs and cautiously leaned against the wall. It would be surprising to the average person just how well this hid the small girl out of sight. The group approached a large doorway, loud voices on the other side of it. One was clearly female and, by the sounds of it, pleading with the other.

"My Lord, we are far from dangerous," There was what sounded to be a shout of sarcastic laughter, the owner of this other voice sounding a bit older in years and male.

"You don't think you're dangerous. Here, allow me to show you just how threatening you are to not only yourselves, but us as well," V'lyn moved fast, so fast that he seemed to catch both Miss Jennifer and Fukayna by surprise. The doors were thrust open and a blinding flash of light occurred, a loud boom and shockwave of power extending out from inside. Fukayna's hair fluttered a bit with the force of it all and she stood there, mouth agape. Had she honestly thought she was a match for this man? Seeing him as he was now, she was beginning to realize the difference in their fighting prowess--but this fact did not make her fear him as much as it made her respect him more.

V'lyn did not look remotely pleased and his eyes narrowed as he spoke in a commanding voice. "Ordered to come and check up on the Steward of Lethandrill and this is what I find. Not a great way to greet one from the Order of Riena, Torak." The man called Torak seemed to tremble at these words as he stammered out his reply.

"L-Lord V'lyn... I did not realize you were coming. If you'd only sent word I would have had an escort ready for you and have you welcomed into my grand city properly." Fukayna sniffed her nose in a bit of distaste for him. Something felt... off, as it had when they had approached the palace. Her attention was turned to Miss Jennifer as the woman turned, one of her brows lower than the other. So she was put off by the atmosphere too. But the mage was still more gentle-toned as she spoke to Fukayna.

“Are you okay?” The mute girl nodded a bit but this time around, she did not jot anything down on her parchment. She was too focused on what was happening between Torak and V'lyn. And on the dark-haired girl, she added as an after-thought. Miss Jennifer seemed satisfied with her response and turned back to V'lyn. The man's voice was still commanding as he regarded them.

"I'm sure you know what to do, Jennifer. Take the elf with you, it's probably not safe to leave her alone in the city. Fukayna, go with Jennifer. Search this city from top to bottom. And be careful," The older woman narrowed her eyes, huffing a bit.

“Do what?!” The protest was futile, V'lyn already not paying attention. Miss Jennifer's lips contorted into a smile that was none too pleasant and directed it at the other woman. Fukayna was personally glad she was not the recipient of such a look and shivered. Even merely seeing it was disturbing. “You, come with me.”

The dark haired woman hurried to comply, somewhat fearfully looking from her savior the the mage that was now directing her about. The way the oldest of them looked at the dark-haired woman, one would think there was something malicious in the mage's mind. It was as they reached a large room, colored with the fickle hues of the sunset against the stained glass window, that Fukayna once again felt the familiar touch of magic upon her. Judging by the lack of response from their new companion, she had to guess she was the only one hearing these words.

“Fukayna, search the palace dungeons. If something which still exists is to be found, it’ll be there. Careful not to get caught now either. Wouldn't want you getting tortured for information would we? Although, making you talk would probably be more difficult than the average person...” The faint smile that upturned her lips was large enough to be seen by her superior as she nodded and gave a quick and graceful bow before detaching herself from the others.

Fukayna had not been alone in awhile, not since the night before last. Already she had grown fond of the company of other people but her personal feelings were not about to get in the way of what they had come to accomplish. The only question was, how was she to find the dungeons? She moved quiet as snow, her furs once again wrapped around her delicate frame as she carefully analyzed each area she walked into. Just as before, there were no guards, no signs that anyone had passed through recently. A frown touched upon her face, cheeks puffing out just a small portion.

'Where is everyone...?' She thought to herself. When she had been in the Order, there had been guards posted everywhere and it was the same when she approached the assassins. A chill coursed through her body and she instinctively held her furs a bit closer to her to fend it off. Her eyes darted around beneath her bangs, yet she found nothing suspicious, up until she entered a room to the far end of the corridor. Immediately, her gaze was drawn to the door that was almost slightly ajar, as if someone had rushed from the vicinity to go attend to other matters. As before, there was no one about--this was getting to be very troubling indeed.

She hesitantly placed a few petite fingers on the door frame, but none came rushing to see what the disturbance was and there was not a hint of a footstep to impede her. Warily, she opened it a creak and, after poking her head through the gap and evaluating there was no sign of danger, edged her way into the passageway, shutting the door precisely the way she had seen it. She progressed down the steps, the air becoming cooler the lower she went. At last, she arrived on dungeon level and she released her breath, not having realized she had been holding it the way down.

Fukayna scrutinized the walls of the dungeons as well as each of the cells but could see nothing. It was rather dark and she did not dare light a torch for fear that it may alert someone to her presence should they see the light from the flame. Her eyes took several minutes to adjust to the dark but she could at least make out the things she was gazing at. After searching around with no success, she shrugged to herself--not seeing anything of worth. She was about to turn to leave when she heard it, a very frail, faint sounding cough. She tensed, so there was someone down here after all--Miss Jennifer had been correct. She heard a thudding noise and, shrinking against the walls, she slinked over in the direction she had heard it from.

As she drew nearer to a cell, she made out a darker shape and squinted her eyes, edging just a bit closer to the bars to see inside. She released a gasp as she registered the shape of a boy, unconscious and slumped over. Even in the dim lighting, she could tell he was malnourished and the faint coating of sweat on his brow indicated that this was taking a decent toll on his body. She bit her lip, hesitant over what to do next. Miss Jennifer hadn't given her directions in the event she actually found someone, but then again, it wasn't the mage's job to tell her everything as one would a child.

Choosing to take the initiative, Fukayna timidly reached one of her hands through the bars, her slim arm easily fitting between them. Her fingers came to rest atop his hair, though soft to the touch, it was mussy and illkempt. She shifted her fingers lower to his forehead, a degree of heat radiating off of it. Whatever he had done, she cared naught--the man was suffering and appeared to be falling ill due to whatever treatment he was suffering down here. She retracted her hand from the cell and stood up, eyeing the lock on his cell. That wouldn't be... too hard to pick...

She fished in her furs for a small throwing knife and put the very tip of it into the slot of the lock. She worked hurriedly--she had no way of knowing if patrol would be returning soon and given the situation, she was not working with much time as it was. It took her a few frustrating minutes but finally, the lock gave a satisfying snap and she caught it in her hands before it fell to the ground. She carefully placed it at the foot of the door before giving the door a push, not opening it more than she had to in order to slide inside.

She knelt over the boy, her hair pooling around the side of his body as she delicately placed her hands on his side. Adjusting his weight as carefully as she could, she turned his body slightly and pulled him up a bit so his head rested in her lap. Using her free hand, she fished around in her furs until she produced a water canteen and took the cap off, pouring a bit over his face in an attempt to wake him up. She lowered her lashes a bit as she gazed at him--he looked so battered and worn down. She sprinkled a few more drops on his face, unable to do much else to wake him up. All she could do was hope he would regain consciousness soon--she would have to report this finding to Miss Jennifer and V'lyn, after all.

Armen Sorien

"We might as well collect ourselves before progressing any farther to find the others. It wouldn't do to tax your body any more than it has been. Though we shouldn't linger here long--I don't know how safe this area is. By the way.... I didn't ask for your name? Mine is Fukayna. Fukayna Muidrehd."

He'd allowed her to help him from the cell and also to give him her water from her canteen. At first he'd found it strange the way she communicated with him, but it hadn't bothered him in the least. In a way... it seemed fitting for her. In no time he was used to the sounds of her charcoal scratching across her pad of paper and then reading her thoughts right after. She was mysterious and alluring in that sense. Armen didn't have much time to think about that, though as his body was not cooperating very well with him.

Soon enough his breathing was labored and he found it difficult to stay conscious. He stumbled up the last bit of stairs and allowed her to help him to sit against the wall. It took him quite some time to gather his strength, but his breathing was still short. His gaze flicked across her pad and read her note. He nodded in agreement. It would do them no good at all to be caught sneaking from the dungeons. Armen leaned his head against the wall, trying to keep his own weight upright. Even though she'd sat next to him, he didn't wish to give her more discomfort with his leaning against her.

"Thank you," he rasped, "I apologize... for being such... a burden," he heaved, "I'm Armen... Armen Sorien. I used... to be a guard," he managed a small smile. He hadn't enough energy to summon up any power of his own, besides, even if he could it wouldn't do him any good. Armen hadn't quite grasped his kin's natural affinity to magic. He could feel it inside him, but he hadn't the slightest clue on how to use it. Reaching up, his hand rested against his chest and slowly closed in a fist of frustration. If only he could heal himself, things would go much easier. Grinding his teeth somewhat, he finally opened his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Alright, I can go again," he told her and pushed against the wall to get himself up. He waited for her to stand and they started off again. He tried to move a little bit quicker this time. It was easier seeing as there weren't anymore stairs to climb, but the increased speed did nothing for his strength. Still, Armen was determined to reach her companions and warn them about Torak. The man was dangerous on a level that Armen hadn't even known about until it was too late. His eyebrows furrowed with his frustration. How he hadn't seen it was beyond him, but it was no use dwelling on past things.

He moved quickly with Fukayna right behind him. A couple of turns down the hall and he found his way out into the courtyard where two women were standing. He wasn't sure if they were Fukayna's companions, but judging by the way the one woman looked as they appeared, he figured they were. He gently pulled himself away from Fukayna and moved quickly towards the dark haired woman. One arm was wrapped up under his chest, supporting his broken structure.

"Did you come here with Fukayna? Torak is dangerous. You should leave as soon as you can," he started. He was pretty sure he sounded hysterical, but he couldn't help it. Torak had lost his mind and he feared what he would do to others.

Fay X'san

“Well at the very least you’re not related to our issue. Unfortunately for you, I’m not leaving here until either of my partners return. So, if you don’t want to risk being attacked again, you’re just going to have to wait with me also.”

Fay nodded her head quickly in agreement. She didn't like the thought of being left alone in the city with guards who were probably under the crazed control of the Steward. She didn't like the feeling she was getting, though. Something strange was building in the air and she didn't care for it one bit. Being a bit sensitive to magic, her senses were being pricked. Fay turned her gaze back to the double doors of the palace. Nothing moved or stirred, but that didn't mean anything. She looked back to the beautiful woman once more and then her gaze turned to see the silver haired girl that had left earlier.

With her was a young elf and he looked as if he'd seen better days. Battered from head to toe, he was bloodied, bruised and doubled over with his arm curled across his chest as if it were the only thing holding him together. His words struck harder than his looks though, and Fay felt a growing sense of unease and dread in the center of her chest. Once more she turned to the double doors with wide eyes.

"We have to get your friend," Fay said, turning to the woman. No sooner had she spoken and the double doors blasted open. One actually came off its hinges and flew straight at Fay. Her heart shot to her throat and she ducked knowing she wasn't going to be saved either way. However, her strange powers kicked in and surrounded her in a glimmering bubble of golden light. The door bounced off of her shield without harm and flipped out into the street of the elven city. Fay straightened and looked into the palace to see where there explosion had come from.

Another round of magic came hurting through the air and jumped aside, barely missing the launch of swirling purple mist. Silver light illuminated the growing darkness within and at it's center was the young man that had saved her minutes ago. His lithe body was outlined by his power and in his other hand was his sword. Magic collided against each other and the Lord V'lyn was pushed back inch by inch. Finally he was tossed off his feet and he flipped backwards into the open. He only stopped at the bottom of the stairs.

Fay drew her crossbow and knocked an arrow. She lifted the weapon and pointed it right at the Steward that followed Lord V'lyn's fall. She slowly backed away, keeping just out of his sight and waited for Torak to come into sight before firing. She pulled the trigger and the weapon launched forward right at the man. The arrow shattered upon impact, hitting a protective shield of power. The Steward never looked her way though.

"Insolent assassin! You dare threaten me and my Kingdom?!"

"This isn't you're kingdom, Steward!" Lord V'lyn shot back as he got back up on his feet. His hand outstretched and in his hand a ball of glowing silver light collected. The Steward sneered at him from above.

"There is no heir to this throne, V'lyn! This belongs to me as it always has."

"Like the gauntlet you wield? Relinquish it at once, Steward, or you'll give me no choice."

The Steward at this time had noticed the other elf that had quickly back-peddled and was trying to keep the silver haired girl behind him. This seemed to infuriate him even further and Fay couldn't understand where his rage was coming from. Slowly she edged herself down to the bottom of the stairs with the two who were from the Order of Riena. Her crossbow was still raised and another arrow knocked in its place.

"And now you're trying to release criminals right under my nose! You're filthy, V'lyn! How dare you come in here, pretending to check up on me! You're true intentions were to free this man weren't they? And now you'll try to usurp my power using him! I won't allow it. You won't succeed and you won't leave this city alive either! Any of you!"

"Jennifer!" Lord V'lyn shouted, though Fay was uncertain as to why he yelled at the woman. Maybe he was telling her something that the Navile didn't quite get. Either way it seemed the woman understood. The assassin raised his hand that was filled with the silver light and let it explode from his palm. It raced up the steps and collided with Torak. The light blinded Fay and she couldn't see anything for several minutes.

Fay fell into silence as she nodded her head smartly. Good, thought Jennifer. At least the Navile shouldn’t cause any further issues. The front doors burst open then, a dull clap of wood against marble. She reeled at the sound but was disappointed to discover that not Talon, but some half deranged elf had staggered from the entrance. The young elf’s appearance was horribly marred and caked in a blanket of grimy sweat. Even from this distance, she could tell his breathing was irregular, likely taxed from a physical abuse.

Whatever the elf’s circumstances, his sunken eyes seemed to recognise them immediately upon exiting. He carried himself rigidly towards her and took a moment to gather his strength before speaking. Jennifer’s dark eyes assessed him impassively at first, uncertain of what to make of the elf. If not for the presence of Fukayna, she might've dismissed him entirely, but Jennifer guessed he must’ve been isolated in the dungeons for his unwashed stench was wrinkling her nose.

"Did you come here with Fukayna? Torak is dangerous. You should leave as soon as you can," he blurted out, desperate to deliver his message.

Jennifer grinned as she raised a thin eyebrow at the young man. “Dangerous?” the mage scoffed, her chest hiking incredulously beneath her crossed arms, “You’ve got the situation around the wrong way kid. Sure, Torak can use a bit of magic, but Lord V’lyn is more than capable of handling someone like him.” Talon had the power of the old god after all, assuming his already formidable combat skills weren’t enough.

Fay’s reaction was quite the opposite however. The Navile edged towards Jennifer to have a word with the mage, concern audibly creeping into her tone as her eyes warily darted about their surrounds as though they were being watched, "We have to get your friend."

Jennifer opened her mouth to reply but the doors blew open again, disrupting her speech before it had even began. This time, one of the panels flew clean off its joints, ripped apart by whatever energy lay behind it. The door transformed into a deadly projectile as it flew into Fay, only to be deflected by a hastily erected shield. Basking in the yellow luminescence of Fay’s bubble, the mage frowned at the sudden turn of chaos, acting like this was an average day in the Order of Riena. “And that’s probably Talon using the good old scare static,” she smirked. The smirk only lasted the whole portion of another second before an overwhelming force threw Talon out of the doorway. A mist gathered in thickness as the unsettling scenario engulfed the party.

"Insolent assassin! You dare threaten me and my Kingdom?!" Torak vocalised his anger from the top of the staircase. A silver glint caught her attention and Jennifer’s eyes locked onto the gauntlet encasing his wrist. The artefact angrily discharged magical power as the Steward marched closer, his expression glowing red with fury. Jennifer took an inadvertent step back, startled by the madness she saw reflected in the Steward’s beady irises.

"This isn't you're kingdom, Steward!" Talon retorted, but Torak was having none of it.

The Steward glowered at them from the top of the stairs, possessed by an uncontrollable power, "There is no heir to this throne, V'lyn! This belongs to me as it always has." Torak was mad, truly mad. There was no reasoning with him, but now they could verify that some of the rumors they'd been sent to investigate were true. Jennifer released her breath and prepared herself, sensing the situation was approaching the imperceptible line of no return. She just prayed that Torak wouldn’t notice the elf prisoner Fukayna had released.

"Like the gauntlet you wield? Relinquish it at once, Steward, or you'll give me no choice."

Torak had suddenly noticed the young elf and Jennifer swore she could see the veins popping over his forehead, "And now you're trying to release criminals right under my nose! You're filthy, V'lyn! How dare you come in here, pretending to check up on me! You're true intentions were to free this man weren't they? And now you'll try to usurp my power using him! I won't allow it. You won't succeed and you won't leave this city alive either! Any of you!"

"Jennifer!" Talon yelled. A small frown of disapproval grew on her lips as she complied with his orders.

“I never liked negotiating anyway.” She mulled and ignited the illusionary magic she’d been leaking into the courtyard. “World Fracture!”

Tinted goggles materialised over eyes of Talon, Fukayna and Jennifer, protecting the trio from the concussive effects of the assassin’s impromptu flash bang. It was all she could do on short notice. Jennifer redirected the rest of her energy to Torak's senses, plying her fingers like she was playing harp, and masked the party's presence from him. "Whatever you want to do Talon, do it now."

Fukayna allowed the boy to edge away from her, his hand clutching at his chest as if desperately trying to support his weight on his own. Her eyes lay briefly on the black-haired woman, in the better lighting, she could make out the other was an Elf of some sort. Her gaze turned back to Armen, who was speaking in a hushed, rapid tone to Miss Jennifer. The mage looked at her around the boy, a raised eyebrow questioning his very presence in front of her. The way she was wrinkling her nose, Fukayna guessed the mature woman had already picked up on the scent the boy carried from being in the dungeons for a long time. She wrote something on a piece of paper, holding it up somewhat apologetically for only Miss Jennifer to see.

"Sorry--I dumped some water on his face but it didn't seem to help the smell much." Jennifer grinned, slyly using it as a segway into her comment to Armen's words.

“Dangerous? You’ve got the situation around the wrong way kid. Sure, Torak can use a bit of magic, but Lord V’lyn is more than capable of handling someone like him.” Miss Jennifer gave a scoff, she didn't seem to be taking the warning overly seriously. However, the dark-haired Elf was more cautious as she spoke up in a small, but firm voice.

"We have to get your friend." Before any of them could respond to the suggestion, the doors flew open and one of them went spiraling through the air. Fortunately, Fukayna wasn't in it's projectile range but the dark-haired Elf wasn't quite so lucky. But she needn't have worried--whether because of fear or desperation, the woman erected a barrier that the door was deflected off of. Though the silver-tressed girl was shocked, Miss Jennifer seemed to act as if this activity was just the norm, brushing it off with a light-hearted comment.

“And that’s probably Talon using the good old scare static,” She said with a wave of her hand. Her casualness was cut short as V'lyn was thrown out the doorway. Fukayna gasped and went to run a little closer to see if he was alright but a stern look from the mage was enough to keep her in place. The older steward took heavy steps after V'lyn, his breathing ragged, eyes wide and expression maniac. She shivered, the man looked utterly mad and inwardly, she was so very relieved that the Elven boy was here with them.

"Insolent assassin! You dare threaten me and my Kingdom?!" The man looked like he was about to break out in peals of laughter at any given moment--the odd sort of in-between expression when anger could be confused with hysterics. V'lyn shot a glare right back at him, speaking out defiantly.

"This isn't you're kingdom, Steward!" The man's eyes grew wider as an insane light radiated from them.

"There is no heir to this throne, V'lyn! This belongs to me as it always has." Somehow, things were spiraling out of control much faster than Fukayna could've processed and she slid her gaze quickly to Miss Jennifer. The mages eyes were narrowed, her look calculating. Clearly they were in a bit more danger than had been previously assessed upon arriving, but it was a bit too late to be lamenting on that fact now. V'lyn's voice was louder as he spoke clearly, though oddly, the edge of calm had not left his tone despite how he glared at the steward.

"Like the gauntlet you wield? Relinquish it at once, Steward, or you'll give me no choice." Torak looked around V'lyn at last to the four that were a distance away from him. The instant he did so, Armen moved a bit in front of her, almost protectively. Fukayna furrowed her eyebrows, it was not as if she was defenseless. She should be the one protecting him, given his injuries, with her... her... A sinking feeling settled in her stomach as it dawned on her very slowly. She had left her halberd with the horses. It was not as if it would be taken from her, she was certain it was still outside, but there would not be enough time to run and retrieve it. For the moment, all she had were her furs--it would have to suffice.

The old man's face contorted in pure rage as he stared at the elf in front of her before shouting back at V'lyn. "And now you're trying to release criminals right under my nose! You're filthy, V'lyn! How dare you come in here, pretending to check up on me! You're true intentions were to free this man weren't they? And now you'll try to usurp my power using him! I won't allow it. You won't succeed and you won't leave this city alive either! Any of you!" The finality of his words were said with force, his voice shaking with the severity of what he was implying.

V'lyn rapidly turned around to Miss Jennifer, calling out her name. It seemed to be some undertone of an order, for the woman nodded in understanding. “I never liked negotiating anyway. World Fracture!” The words resounded with the feel of magic and goggles appeared over her bangs. It was a welcome relief from the flashes that had been occurring earlier and the spots that had been dancing around in front of her eyes were finally beginning to fade. Her eyebrows knitted a bit. There didn't seem to be any goggles for the other two, leading the small girl to wonder just how far Miss Jennifer's dislike actually seemed to carry.

Without much of a care for her own vision, she took her goggles off and tugged them over Armen's head somewhat clumsily, since she was reaching around from the behind. Her bangs would negate some of the effects and she had a feeling they would not be lingering around for long anyway. Whatever magic the other girl had, she could only hope that the Elf would be able to use it to protect her vision. The whisper of magic extended outwards past the group, touching upon Torak. As far as Fukayna could tell, it was playing with his senses, for the man began to make swipes as if confused. He no longer seemed to note their presence as he fumbled a few steps forward, but his clenched fists indicated his determination.

He obviously knew they were still there, for he kept on releasing bursts of magic--but they were more erratic and way off target now that he could not see them. Miss Jennifer spoke in a more hushed voice to V'lyn. "Whatever you want to do Talon, do it now." Fukayna bit her lip. She did not doubt her safety was a factor in the mage's mind. But the safety of the other two Elves was questionable. Perhaps somewhat rashly and knowing she may get a tongue lashing for it later, she grabbed both arms of the two and tugged them a bit closer to her person. Whatever the story behind the steward's madness was, perhaps these two would at least be able to give them hints.

The action did not go unnoticed by the older woman but Fukayna firmly maintained her position. They were all going to leave, not just the group that had come. There was no way they could leave the Elves behind in the hands of this madman. She scribbled on her pad quickly, unsure how long the illusionary spell was going to last.

"I'll take these two outside and prepare the horses--at least so that we can make a somewhat speedier exit." With the best bow she could manage, given the circumstances, she hastily wrote two more messages, ripping the parchment off the pad and thrusting it in both the faces of Armen and the black-haired girl. "Come with me. I'll get us outside safely. She adjusted herself with Armen to at least help support his weight and gestured towards the hallway that they had come from. The other two seemed to comply with her movements and although she felt a bit strained at trying to move so fast, it seemed smarter to move the others away from the situation. She was more than confident the Lord and Lady could handle themselves.

Xandur

If one had the ability to turn fully invisible, they would not be half as efficient in spying then if they were a beggar. It's not that people are not aware of a beggars presence, far from it. The presence of someone in dire need for help is like a wraith in the mind of the modern man. Knowing that they could help this poor man, but not willing to relinquish any of their own hard earned money, they do their best to ignore that person. People are so wracked by guilt at the sight of a beggar,or even filled with disgust, that they do all in their power to convince themselves that the man in the tattered clothes and desperate look in is eyes isn't really there. This is why Xandur chose the life of the Vagrant as his cover. So he collect as much information with as little attention or as little consequences as possible. After all, no one cares if they share their secrets within ear shot of a beggar.

And Xandur had overheard quite a lot.

When he had first started Listening, he had simply heard the fading squalor of the city. Xandur found this very odd, seeing as the city should have been growing louder as the day came to it's peak, but their seemed to be a near lack of life near the direct vicinity of the marble building. Xandur had assumed that, being made of precious stone and not of the forest, that this building must have had some import to the people in this city, along with whoever resided within.

Before long, a young.........elf of some kind had begun to approach the marble building. She seemed to notice something and her expression betrayed how concerned and nervous she was about something. She was stopped by a guard before she made it to the building. She was here to see the Steward, a place holder, of the city. She was also apparently a Navile.......whatever that was. If he hadn't had to live each day with the collective knowledge of a child, then he might have been upset at this fact. Judging from the guards reaction to this, Xandur assumed that a Navile was something be on your guard around.

The guard took the Navile women into the marble building. If that was where the Steward resided, that would mean that would be the Palace. It made sense, the place certainly was regal enough and definitely stood out against the more floral aesthetics of Lethandrill. He had decided that perhaps her conversation with the Steward might be an interesting opportunity to learn more about these Navile. He closed his eye and could feel his Hearing begin to bend, twist and extend. The sounds of the streets and city faded from his ears. Xandur was now Listening to a conversation about........the scullery maids ass? Right, wrong conversation.......he hoped.

The amount of time it took him to find the correct conversation could have been minutes or hours, he wasn't sure. When he finally did find the correct conversation, it seemed the Steward was very very angry.

"Navile! You're dangerous! You don't even realize how dangerous you are, woman! That is why you and your kind are separated from the rest of us. You don't know what kind of power you hold, and if you don't know what you have, you don't know how to control it. And here you are, trying to convince us that you're harmless?! Are you a fool?"

So, the Navile were separated from the other elves for they had some kind of power of them......intriguing. Though, form the sound of the situation, the Navile was not in a very favorable position. Though, he swore he could hear something in the back, something muffled. He continued to Listen.

"My Lord, please. If you would just hear me out-"

"Hear you out? The more you speak the more deluded you sound. You're trying to convince yourself that you're not a threat,"

"My Lord, we are far from dangerous," the Navile woman continued, trying to hold her ground.

Xandur could hear truth, along with other things, ring out from her voice as she spoke. Perhaps this was one of the controversial issues of the land. Were the Navile a threat or not? Time would tell, at least for him, he supposed.

"You don't think you're dangerous. Here, allow me to show you just how threatening you are to not only yourselves, but us as well,"]/b]

That did not sound good.

Suddenly, there was a very odd sound that was loud enough to hurt Xandur's ears, followed by a sound somewhat similar to the first. Then following that was a resounding boom that caused Xandur to wince form the pain. What in the name of no one had just happened? Then, another voice sounded, one he had not heard before. Definitely male, and it commanded a certain power with it.

[b]"Ordered to come and check up on the the Steward of Lethandrill and this is what I find. Not a great way to greet one from the Order of Riena, Torak." The man scoffed.

The Order of Riena, now them Xandur had heard of. An order of religious assassins who's fame had grown across the land. Talks of their leader, one Lord V'lyn, having defeated a mighty threat to the world and had saved the land from destruction. Or something or other like that, the tale changed rather drastically as it was told from tavern to another. It happened some forty years ago from the way Xandur heard it. This city was becoming more interesting by the minute.

The Steward, who's name was apparently Torak, begun to speak again, with a goo amount less fervor then before. "L-Lord V'lyn... I did not realize you were coming. If you'd only sent word I would have had an escort ready for you and have you welcomed into my grand city properly."

Lord V'lyn, well what do you know. The Legend himself was there in the room. Though, Xandur wondered how he had gotten in there. It seemed Xandur was so focused on Listening, that he hadn't even noticed. Huh.

It seemed now that the V'lyn now demanded Torak to speak with him about "certain matters", whatever that meant. The Steward seemed to comply. Xandur hadn't realized it, but other people had entered the room. Their names were Jennifer and Fukayna. They must have been under V'lyn's command as he gave each of them a task to do. The woman whom he guessed to be Jennifer seemed none to please about her assignment to escort the Navile girl. The other companion remained silent, very silent.

The strain was starting to get to Xandur and he decided he would have to leave off Listening for now. He heard the sounds of the palace fade and the sound of the street returned. Xandur blinked his eye open, the light hurting it at first. He looked about and realized no one was about. He sighed heavily and enjoyed the the silence for a time.

That is until the front doors to the palace opened he once again heard the cold and irritated voice of Jennifer. Xandur carefully looked over to the source of the voice from under his hood. From what he could tell at this distance, she was rather beautiful. Not in that overly gaudy, won beauty. It was a natural beauty that she seemed to wear with an air of acknowledgment but not much more. Though, her tone of voice certainly helped to dull down her looks.

She was standing with the Navile woman he had seen before, and a young girl wearing wolf pelts and whose hair was covering her face. That must have been Fukayna. Jennifer seemed to be speaking to her, but for some reason, Xandur could not make out what she was saying at all. Xandur stuck out his tongue. Yep, magic. This woman, this Jennifer must have been a mage of some kind.

Fukayna departed, and Jennifer turned to the Navile woman. Xandur could suddenly hear her. "Your name first, then you’re going to tell me what happened before we arrived, because, let’s just say fanatical rulers are the least of your worries at the moment," her tone was something sinister. Not overtly, but it was there.

"Fay X'san of the Navile. I came here because our clan is trying to receive pardon to leave our forest and interact with the world outside. We are part of this Order and so we knew we had to come here first before going anywhere else. When I first came here there was a kind of fear in the air. It still lingers and I heard whispers about the Steward being mad. Still, I went to go see him."

Intriguing. So Fay X'san was her name. Despite the fear he had heard in her voice, he could tell that this woman was some kind of brave. He wished to learn more of the Navile as soon as possible. though, this little turn of events seemed to entertain him plenty.

She then spoke of the events that Xandur had Overheard in the Palace.

Jennifer seemed to have deemed Fay's words true and had determined she was not involved in some sort of debacle that was the cause of the Order of Riena's presence. She had decided they would wait there for her fellows. As Xandur would as well, it seemed.

After some time had passed, it seemed the silent Fukayna had returned......with a young elf that looked like he had been tortured for a week straight. Well, Xandur was not expecting that. Upon seeing Jennifer and Fay, the young man pulled himself away from Fukayna and approached the two. He began to tell them of how mad Torak was and they should leave. Fay seemed to concur with him and stated they should retrieve V'lyn and retreat. Jennifer seemed incredibly confident that they had nothing to worry about. True, that Lord V'lyn was a man of legend, but, it was never wise to underestimate anything or anyone. That's how you ended up naked, lying face down in a ditch.

As if Fate itself was trying to teach Jennifer a lesson, the doors to the palace exploded outward. The doors became projectiles that were headed right for the group. At the last moment, a barrier was erected from Fay and deflected the deadly door. Moments later, from Jennifer's reaction, a man who must be Lord V'lyn was sent flying out of the smoked door frame. He looked......very good for a man who saved the world forty years ago.

Steward Torak seemed to be the attacker. He wielded a gauntlet that irradiated power. Lord V'lyn seemed to have a bracer of a similar nature, though he doubted the two were connected in any way.......he hoped.

But, when the power of the two men clashed, he felt his gauntlet.......shiver? He could feel it humming in his robe. His eyebrows raised high. It had never done that before. "GACK!" Xandur suddenly cried out in pain. The source of his torment came from his left arm. The gauntlet had attached itself to him without his consent. That was also a first. Xandur was afraid the gauntlet would attacking him next. Though, he found he had control over the gauntlets functions.

A blinding silver light caught his attention. Xandur was glad he wasn't paying attention when that light went off, because it seemed to have blinded half of the people up there.

He could feel his gauntlets humming grow louder. It seemed now was the time to choose. To act or to leave............yeah, act.

Xamdur pushed himself up with the help of his staff, his leg still feeling tender. As he turned to where the battle was taking place, He saw Fukayna helping the injured elf and Fay X'san to get away from the conflict. They seemed to be heading for the gate. Now there was a clever girl, in more ways than one.

Xandur looked up the stairs to see the three having a stand off. He thought about the best way to approach the situation. Seeing as the steward was mad and had a large amount of unchecked power, Xandur believed it would be best to act as quickly and directly as possible.

So, he began to hobble up the stairs with the help of his staff.

He moved up the stairs in a steady fashion, favoring his left leg all the way. He still wore his beggars robe as he ascended. He eventually passed Jennifer, not stopping to gauge her reaction. He then hobbled up until he was parallel with V'lyn's right. He was was still several feet away. He raised his staff slightly, then slammed it back down onto the ground with a loud boom! The dirt and twigs shot off of his staff, revealing the stark white and teal that was the true form of his staff. Then, with his other hand, he threw off the robe into the sky, revealing his white and brown outfit he had come to favor in his travels. His large stoned gauntlet fully revealed, it glowing a slight purple hue. His necklace was also revealed, dangling around his neck, the stones reflecting the light from his gauntlet.

He said nothing, he simply stared the Steward down, waiting for one side to make the first move.

Talon V'lyn

A slight grin took over his features as he felt Jennifer's magic activate. Oh how he loved that woman. She was practical at all times, something he lacked most of the time. His magic shook the area and the flash was enough to blind and subdue the Steward for some time. Through the haze of magic, he could see the man stumbling around and trying to regain his surroundings. Off to the side, Fukayna scribbled something on her note pad as she retrieved both elves. She was going to take them to the gates with the horses and prepare for a hasty escape. A wise decision as Talon was sure things weren't going to be so easy.

"Whatever you want to do Talon, do it now." His beautiful mage called out to him. His grin widened and his hand replaced his sword and drew out three throwing knives while his other hand drew his dagger. He started up the steps, but as he went and man in what seemed to be beggars robes approached them and positioned himself nearly at the center of everything.

His walking stick slammed into the marble landing and revealed itself to be a staff. His cloak was thrown away and there stood a young man clad in white and brown from head to foot. Clearly this man was no beggar and he had some semblance of power as well. Talon was intrigued by the bracer that glowed and the staff that hummed with power as well. The Steward was brought back to his senses before Talon could reach the top of the steps. However, the assassin didn't stop and continued on his headlong rush towards the crazed elf.

With a hard flick of his hand, the knives flew passed the new comer and straight to the Steward. Talon figured the man would block that attack, but he was prepared for it as he dashed in quickly and leapt up at the man in an attempt to take him to the ground. His dagger was pulled back and his free hand stretched forth ready to grasp the Steward. The knives, as predicted, bounced off the man's shield that he created with the gauntlet. Talon came down on him right after and brought the man to the ground. From behind it might have looked as if Lord V'lyn had managed to get the finishing blow, however up close the dagger was inches away from Torak's neck. Ripples were forming in the air from the magic that shielded the Steward.

Talon gave a grown of frustration and pulled at the power in his gauntlet once more. He was probably pushing it too much, but the quicker he dealt with this problem, the better. He wasn't about to allow it to grow into something more dangerous. The magic twisted from his wrist to the dagger in his other hand and began pushing the weapon downwards through the Stewards barrier. The man underneath Talon gave a growl of rage and his eyes narrowed. In turn to Talon's power, Torak began siphoning more of his own.

Torak's lips turned into a smile as he gazed up at Talon, a sudden shift in his demeanor slightly throwing off the assassin, "How long can you keep up your magic? One who is human isn't compatible with power such as what we are wielding."

Talon ignored him, grinding his teeth and he pushed forward with all the strength he could muster. However, as he struggled with the man his bracer showed him something quite disturbing. Behind Torak's form a darker being twisted across the marble floor, only visible to Talon's eyes. The shadowy figure's red eyes glared up at him and from the human like form it'd taken, wings sprouted out from it's back and opened to their full length. Beneath him, Torak's laughter began to fill the air and his gauntlet seemed to gain more power. How that was possible, Talon didn't know, but what he did know was that his bracer was at it's limits and his energy was beginning to falter considerably.

He was startled at what happened next. A sharp pain filled his side and he glanced down immediately. A crystal like spear had been thrust into his side, and it was growing larger by the second. Wincing, Talon relinquished his hold on his dagger and directed his power to the crystal that was slowly impaling him. The silver band gave one last spurt of power and shattered the weapon that Torak had summoned. Only a small portion of it stuck out of him as Talon quickly got back to his feet and backed away from Torak. The Steward also stood and his attitude had changed completely. Though there was still that mad glimmer, he seemed to be more calculating than before and it made Talon wonder just how long Torak had had that gauntlet.

With one hand around the wound in his side he turned to Jennifer and the new comer that stood behind him, "Go," he ordered, slowly backing away from Torak.

"What's this? Running away, Lord V'lyn? Didn't you want something from me? Weren't you going to take it by force? What's the matter!?" Torak cried insanely. His power built and rushed outwards.

"Oh, don't worry, I'll be back for it," Talon growled in return, his arm raised up over his face to protect against the heated rush of pure energy that was magic.

"You'll be too late by then V'lyn!"

Talon could feel the energy building and he realized that if they didn't leave, Torak was going to tear down Lethandrill in one fell sweep. They'd be no surviving that kind of explosion of power and he was spent, having nothing left to protect them with. He wasn't about to have Jennifer wear herself out as well in an attempt to save them. Besides, he knew the woman to well, she would only shield him and herself. Everyone else would have to fend for themselves, unless she liked them well enough.

"We're leaving! Quickly," Talon called to her. He would only hope that the man with the staff would come with them as well. It seemed that old enemies were still lingering around. The assassin ground his teeth in frustration and anger. His duties as the leader of an Order were going to have to be put aside for a while. Whenever there was magic involved it seemed that Ro'ell was the place to go. First, getting out of Lethandrill alive was a priority.

Turning on his heel he rushed to Jennifer and pushed her ahead of him. If he wasn't right behind her, she wasn't budging. With a quick side look to the stranger he motioned for him to follow. Only then did he start down the steps with Torak slowly following right behind, his magic flickering and expelling pent up blasts here and there. However the main spell was yet to be ready and he could feel it's pressure slowly building. Even the cities inhabitants were panicking and many were making their way to the gates. It was going to be hell getting out of the city.

Jennifer watched the dark woman making a beeline for the two foreigners and widened her eyes in protest. What was she thinking?

Fukayna frantically scratched at her notepad and held up the message written upon it, "I'll take these two outside and prepare the horses--at least so that we can make a somewhat speedier exit."

Without waiting for further consent, Fukayna dragged the bewildered forms of Fay and the young elf with her, heading in the direction of the city’s gates. Perhaps it was the smarter choice on her part seeing as Jennifer was inches away from losing her self-restraint.

Like a caged animal, the mage released a frustrated sigh before returning her attention to Torak and Talon. Upon doing so however, she noticed a third party had disrupted the duel, the beggar much to her astonishment. Appearing like a ghost, the man waltzed through the aftermath of the flash bang, seemingly unaffected by its concussive affects. Jennifer hissed a cursed and raised her arm up at him threateningly. Whatever his purpose, she wasn’t going to wait to find out.

“Is he brain-dead?! There’s no money here,” she snarled, “You with the staff! Halt!”

She didn’t have time for further contemplation for Talon’s lithe form darted ahead. The battle which followed was swift and brutal. Torak’s gauntlet wove dark patterns in the air but Talon ignored it in his headlong assault up the stairwell, opening up with his signature throwing knives. Jennifer felt like she was forgetting something important. Just an inkling which had gradually crept up into her mind over the course of the action, but she knew the notion was impossible. It must’ve been a coincidence.

“World Fracture!” Jennifer growled as she unleashed another round of reality bending magic. The mage didn’t even hesitate to attack the drifter who’d unveiled his cloak, appearing to be a young man wielding a staff and stone gauntlet. She wouldn’t risk letting anything interfere at this stage. Landing deftly before the intruder, she stood between the young man and Talon. “Too bad for you, at this stage I don’t care about your intentions,” she gave a deliciously innocent smile and proceeded to launch a boulder the size of a carriage at him.

Whilst holding back the trespasser, Jennifer kept a tentative eye on the duel between Talon and Torak behind her. Both were desperately grappling for dominance as Talon attempted to drive the pointed edge of his dagger into the Steward’s throat. Abruptly, Torak laughed and broke free of the assassin's hold. “Talon!” the mage cried, her heart leaping into her throat as she was unprepared by what she saw next. Jennifer felt an impassioned ember of bitter distress as Torak’s crystal spear impaled her cherished assassin. Where was Torak getting this power? As Talon stumbled back a few paces, winded by the impact, Jennifer rushed forwards to heal him, temporarily ignoring the beggar.

"Go," Talon commanded, retreating warily from Torak. His blue-gray eyes had lost their earlier confidence, as if stricken by something they all couldn’t see.

Jennifer was seething though, her dark gaze already affixed to the Steward as the red mist consumed her mind. Her muscles tensed like a coil as she mentally fought between her desire to heal Talon or tear the Steward limb from limb. “You always sucked at magic, let me handle this,” she said.

"We're leaving! Quickly," Talon said once more, this time with urgency. His tone brought her attention to the faint humming which now vibrated the air and one glance at Torak was enough to convince her that he was right. “Fine,” she said. Grasping his hand as they fled, she poured the rest of her attention into his wound, “I never liked this place anyway.”

Fukayna led the two Elves through the hallways, still feeling the tremors the releases of magical energy from over her shoulders. She shivered a bit--it was frightening in an exhilarating type of way the power that both V'lyn and Miss Jennifer wielded. But all of those displays only worked to increase her silent reverence of the duo. She struggled with the weight of Armen, whose breathing was coming out rather raggedly and quickly. The movements were taxing on his body--she felt concern for his state but the urgency of the situation did not allow her to stop and check to see if he was keeping up okay.

The dark-haired Elf was nervously keeping pace with her, holding on lightly to Fukayna's fur to keep pace with the smallest of the trio. Admittedly, she was a bit nervous, for in the spur of the moment, she had spoken so outlandishly against Miss Jennifer. She didn't want to sully her reputation already but the decision seemed like a smart one. Neither of these two were fit for combat. As they rounded the corner, the floors vibrated beneath her feet. The force of it caused her to become slightly off-balanced and she nearly lost her grip on Armen. The boy stumbled with her but gripped his chest and forced himself to straighten.

She managed a small smile at him as they reached the entrance. Looking up, she noticed that cracks had begun to appear in the firm marble of the archway. Her eyebrows furrowed a bit beneath her bangs--just what power was the steward working with? She was sure the other two could feel the tremors, just as she could, even from outside. Screams brought her attentions down to the gates, a bit farther off. Already, people had begun to panic and were fleeing about in the streets. It was hard to believe that it had only taken a few hours for the entirety of the place to begin falling into pandemonium.

She paused, squinting her eyes and catching sight of the horses they had left tethered near the entrance when they had arrived. She gestured to the dark-haired girl and then pointed to the animals. The girl took the hint and edged down the stairs, perhaps a bit faster due to the tense air about the atmosphere. Fukayna turned a bit, using both her arms to support Armen's weight as they made their way down the last set of stairs. The girl brought the horses over to them and Fukayna released her grip on the boy, causing him to lean against the horse for support. She reached into her fur and pulled back out her notepad and wrote on it, once more tearing two sheets of paper for each of them to read.

"We'll need to get to the exit of the city before it over-crowds. I'll take one of the horses, Armen, you can ride with the other girl. Armen made to protest but whatever he was about to say was cut off as she pushed him to the other beast. More than likely, it was in reference to the third horse but she didn't have time to explain her plan to him. Her push wasn't with a whole lot of force, mind, she was conscious of his injuries. But it would be better for him to ride with someone who looked like they had more experience riding horses. The girl nodded and helped the boy up on to the saddle--fortunately while they were distracted, they did not see Fukayna's struggle to get on her own.

Adjusting herself with significant effort, she motioned for the other two to follow her. Getting through the streets was, to say the least, extremely difficult. Weaving through the active groups of people who were running about, all frantically trying to get to the exit, proved to be a strenuous task. They also couldn't move fast, for the movements might've jostled Armen a bit too much and worsened his injuries. Staying together was her top priority--they were in her care, even if it was only for the time being. She had taken this task upon herself and she was going to see it through to the very end.

After battling their way through the throng of the crowd, they at last managed to reach the gates of the city. Strangely, as before, there were no guards to direct the people, so their movements were in utter chaos and confusion. Biting her lip and taking out her parchment, she wrote one more message hesitantly before holding it close enough for the two of them to see.

"Go on ahead. I have to return for V'lyn and Miss Jennifer." Both of the elves motioned to say something but she gave them no time at all, loosening her furs just enough to hit the side of the horse. It whinnied in surprise and galloped forwards through the gaps in the crowd. Both of them looked back at her and she watched them go only as far as the gate before turning her horse around and riding back towards the palace. She had meant it. They were all going to leave. She was counting on the Lord and Lady to already be outside by the time she returned for she wasn't sure how much longer the city was going to hold. She urged her horse a bit faster, hoping to the gods that she got there in time.

Talon V'lyn

“I never liked this place anyway,” Jennifer hissed as she grasped his hand and rushed for the courtyard where they'd left their horses. The massive energy was growing heavier with each moment and Talon had a terrible flash back of the old city Kingsburrow. The city had once stood proudly in Lastra, but when the attack of the 'True Dragons' (a rebel group at the time) came, their leader brought devastation to the city. The Old God Domieen had been leading that group of rag tag rebels then and Talon had engaged in a fight with him. At the time they had just realized that Domieen was a Dragon God. Domieen had almost killed Talon, and with the assassin the city crumbled in on itself. Had Jennifer not been there, bracer or no bracer, Talon would have died in that dark pit.

His hand tightened around hers in a silent motion of urgency. The assassin was sure that she didn't need any urging though. If anything she would have been the one to be pushing him if he were to so much as fall a few steps to far behind her. Torak's power was so immense that it was sure to be felt miles away from the city. Taking one look behind his shoulder, he witnessed the Steward starting to unleash the power. His eyes widened and he feared for the inhabitants of the city. Most had gotten out the front gates and had started fleeing into the outlying forests, but many were still in the city scrambling to get away. Amongst them himself and Jennifer.

Turning, he spotted where they'd left the horses. One was missing and from the throng of people, Fukayna was rushing back towards them. Talon gave a sharp hiss of irritation. That girl should have left on her own accord, no need for them all to perish in one area. Of course, Talon had no intentions of dying but still. Though, he had to hand it to her, she was quite brave and honorable to come back for them. The marble steps beneath their feet began cracking as they rushed down to the courtyard. Once they were to the horse, which had surprisingly hadn't startled from fear yet, Talon all but tossed Jennifer up onto the saddle before clambering up behind her. It wasn't the large comfort of a dragon's neck, but he would make due. Also, it wasn't the first time that Talon had wished to have Vy with him again either. There were plenty of times that the assassin dearly missed his dragon companion. There was an emptiness in his soul that even Jennifer couldn't fill. It was the emptiness of losing a powerful creature, a linked companion who had been with him for many years. To suddenly have him gone was very painful.

Taking the reigns of the horse in hand he directed the beast towards the throng of elves that darted here and there. He caught sight of Fukayna and motioned to her giving a sharp whistle as he went. A flick of his wrist and a kick of his boots got the stead into a gallop. He rushed towards the other assassin and jerked his head towards the gates.

"You shouldn't have come back!" He yelled at Fukayna, but it was the only thing he said to her about her decision. Talon maneuvered the beast through the elven citizens on foot carefully. If he could help them all escape, he would have. However, there was no possible way to do so and he had two women of importance to take care of first. Talon had long since lost sight of the beggar who had jumped into the fight, though he hoped that the man had sense enough to leave the area. When the magic quieted down, Talon was going to come back and investigate. That was, if there was anything left to see in the first place.

A deep rumbled filled the air, sounding much like an earthquake as it shuddered the area. Another quick glance behind him and Talon witnessed the magic of the gauntlet being unleashed right behind them. The rush of blinding white light was picking up speed as it moved through the city. In reaction to it, Talon didn't think twice as he called upon the power of his bracer to protect all three of them. Fukayna was a stretch, but he managed. Silver light embraced them all as they rode towards the gates of the city. Screams issued in the air as the people of the city were struck by their Stewards power. The sounds of the large trees being bent groaned through the air and Talon feared that even the majestic trees would be toppled over. Closing his eyes against the blinding light that flooded around them, he could only hope that the horse would be able to make it's way out of the gates without incident.

His magic trembled as it struggled to hold against the destructive power. As soon as it came, though, it was gone and faded off far into the forest ahead. Talon cracked open an eye and took a quick look behind him. The elves that had once been in the city were gone, the trees still stood but they'd lost their grandeur and looked utterly destroyed. Nothing remained of Lethandrill except for the trees. His heart sank and his grip around the reigns tightened. Grinding his teeth he tore his gaze away and pushed his forehead into Jennifer's warm back. His rage at losing so many people and losing the gauntlet to a mad man was mounting. However, the was nothing he could do about it then. So, his frustrations tore at him, gnawed him to the bone as he rode deeper into the forest.

He pulled the horse to a stop as they rounded a corner in the trail of the forest and came upon a group of people idling around. Had they not felt the power that just destroyed the city? Surely they would have had the frame of mind to leave the area. His eyes settled on the third horse that had belonged to him upon first leaving Skyfall. Seated on it was the Navile woman and the young elf that Talon had hardly had a chance to see during his... discussion with Torak. The elven male looked utterly spent and beaten beyond life. Somehow he still clung to the living plane, breathing shallowly and leaning heavily against the woman in front of him. The Navile woman looked relieved to see them appear, and offered a smile.

"What are you doing still lingering here?" Talon asked, trying to sound more intimidating than he felt at that moment. The woman's smile faltered slightly, but then she looked back at the young man behind her and answered the assassin straight.

"He won't make it very far. I couldn't keep riding at the pace I was. I ran into these guys soon after," she said and nodded her head to the assortment of people before them, "Besides," she continued, "I wasn't about to go very far without you anyway. I owe you my life after all."

"You owe us nothing," Talon replied quietly, but his tone had softened considerably. His gaze turned to take in the group before them. Two men whom he'd never seen before were there, a young woman clad in... scales? That was an interesting notion, but further intriguing (and perhaps a bit unsettling) was her demeanor. She seemed highly enraged about something and her gaze was settled on a woman with red hair and a dragon curled around her body.

"Astrid!" Talon yelled, his former tone returning as he set his gaze upon the girl standing there bickering with her dragon as always. He made to further ask her as to why she was there and not carrying out her duties, but he felt a kind of sharp movement in his side. It didn't hurt, but it was the lack of pain that alarmed him. Talon was afraid to see what had happened to his side and even more afraid of Jennifer's reaction. Glancing down he groaned softly and only then did he feel his head getting light from the lack of energy. He'd used too much of the bracers power and it was catching up to him finally. To add to it, the crystal spike that had started out small after his breaking it from Torak's spell, had suddenly began to encase his side in crystal.

"Damnit... of all times," he managed to mutter before falling off the horse from Jennifer's back. All strength left him and he hit the ground unconscious from lack of energy.