Geoffrey Ivorygate's Story

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"The ways of the forest cannot be taught, only learned." Aransandorian replied. "And Firyar seldom have the time to listen well enough to Her voice to learn at all." He abandoned the well-worn trail at that point, veering off somewhat to the left. Though Fúmella did little to disturb the ground around her, the same could not be said for the horses, and he reminded himself that he was taking them out of the forest as fast as they were able to go. It kept him from flinching at the inelegant destruction that the beasts wrought on the place. It was not their fault that they were made to be creatures of the plains.

Nor was it this human's fault that he was not of the forest. This was simply the way of things. Aransandorian did not enjoy or particularly well-understand human cities, either.

Even so, he sensed that the question was asked not from a desire to learn of the forest to exploit it, but in genuine respect. That said, this man was one of rank, and there was no telling what his superiors were like, nor what they would demand of him. Parting with too much information would be not only unwise, but a betrayal of his oath most sacred. There were things that were not secrets, however, that any elf-child might know, and if nothing else, the telling of them would allow him to forget that it would take this underbrush months to grow back unless he took care of it personally.

"I may, however, impart a... story, if you desire it. A legend, I believe your tongue would call it, though our word for it does not carry any suggestions regarding the truth or falsity of the tale."

"We also call them 'fables' or 'tales'--they all mean the same in our tongue," the ambassador replied, trying to remain as amicable as possible given the thoughts that weighed on his mind. "If you do not mind me prying, your grasp of the common tongue is much more refined than many of your brethren. From whom have you learned to speak with such eloquence?"

"In the early years of mine youth, I was educated at the forest's edge, and my travels brought me into contact with humans as well. If my language carries a different lexicon, it is simply due to the fact that I have not needed it in perhaps a century and a half. I suspect that it has changed somewhat in the intervening decades, as the artifacts of humanity are wont to do." Already, he was picking up on differences in the diction and word choice between himself and the others, though there seemed to be a range, perhaps from himself to the girl calling herself 'Dodger,' with the rest somewhere in between.

"Humans are strange creatures indeed--even I marvel at the subtle differences in our dialects, ethnicities, customs, et cetera," Ivorygate used his wrist to draw a small circle with his hand. "I assume that there are indeed subtleties and eccentricities among your brethren and kinsmen that you would be more apt to note than one of my race, yes?" The ambassador was genuinely curious--the more he learned about the fheyga, the more he could relate and negotiate with the race in the future. It never hurt to be prepared with background knowledge, especially if it meant coming across as more respectful of a completely different culture than his own.

"Naturally," Aransandorian replied neutrally. "You have doubtless already run into one of these-- the dialect spoken by those who most often enter into congress with humans is the one you have learned." He paused, giving his next words some consideration. "There are two others. One for the middle-people, and another for those who dwell in the deeps. The last is the oldest form of the tongue, and has remained almost unchanged for milennia, since the time when the elves had kings. It is what I was raised to speak."

There was several moments' silence, during which he made a minute adjustment to their course but otherwise appeared to be lost in thought. "A question then, for you: how do you suppose you will convince the vyldkin to hear you? My people are reticent, secretive, but even they are not as stubborn as the tribesmen of the Dead Earth have the tendency to be."

Ivorygate inhaled deeply through his nose and tightened his lips into a slight frown. "Believe it or not, there are those among the vyldkin that do wish for peace," he explained. "I have met with this particular clan in the past and have met with the elder of this tribe. He believes that we should not plunge headfirst into war, but there are those among his tribesmen that would rather be slaughtered than allow these... transgressions to go unanswered." He cleared his throat as he looked back toward the others following him. "Truth be told, I have no idea what this meeting will mean for our future--of humankind, of vyldkin, and of your sanctuary."

Aransandorian appeared vaguely displeased with this answer, though perhaps only because he remained silent. His face didn't change much. Regardless, he nodded, though he did not again break his lapse into silence. He was not accustomed to long conversations, anymore, and had decided that he was done talking for the moment, at least unless asked something directly.

For once, Talael was glad for Jura and her brilliantly obvious presence, as it at least kept everyone's attention on the young girl. She carefully looked over the elf as she listened him and the ambassador, still letting the bulk of the guardsman she sat behind hide her. While she could not fault Geoffrey for his diplomacy, Talael was not particularly enthused about traveling through the elf's woods, despite the rarity of such an opportunity. His veiled threats had most certainly not been lost on her.

However, she made sure her discomfort was not evident on her face. It was not her place to argue with the ambassador, so Talael remained silent. Shifting restlessly in the saddle as the group prepared to move on, she alternated between warily eyeing the elf and glancing around for any further surprises. Such as the elf's mount that suddenly appeared. Talael smiled faintly as she admired the creature's natural beauty. This certainly was an interesting adventure she'd gotten herself into, Talael mused to herself. She could only hold a faint hope that it would not end in pointless bloodshed sooner rather then later. For now she simply continued to listen in on the ambassador and the elf.

Jura was perched upon the back of her guard's horse, her hand covering her mouth. Well, it was obvious that Geoffrey and Arando...rianso...Aran (She wasn't even going to try to pronounce that name ever again. She had difficulty saying "catastrophe" on a good day) wanted her to stop talking all the time. So she sat, clinging onto the guard in front of her desperately, covering her mouth. The large horse beneath them made its way through the grassy forest floor, the horses' hooves thumping softly as they created imprints on the forest floor. Dodger winced as she spotted the sprawling weeds and greenery covering the forest floor. If a horse tripped...the young woman winced and closed her eyes tightly. It didn't do well to dwell upon such dark subjects. Death was not a good place for her to stay especially as she was unaware of her family's situation. Jura quickly moved her hands to cover her ears and screwed her eyes shut tightly.

"Nope. Nope. We are not thinking about that right now, Darling, stop it." She hissed, uncaring of who could hear. Well, if they thought it was weird, they could keep to themselves. Nobody asked them to listen in. The young woman opened her green eyes to distract herself with the surrounding greenery. A few streams of light glinted off the leaves, gleaming emerald in the sunlight. Jura was sure all this would look very pretty if it wasn't for the over arching fact that she was bored. The young woman let out a muffled sigh behind her hand. As pretty as the forest was, she'd be a lot happier when the convoy were out in the open again. And besides, they might meat some vyldkin soon! The others seemed to be wary of the idea but Dodger just thought it seemed pretty cool. She'd already met a few new species today, why not go for the full house?! She grinned softly as she petted the horse beneath her. Yep, the sooner she got out of here, the better.

"You mean like that killing blow?" Feral called out to him. Ahn laughed lightly at her as he continued to work his sword into the thick hide of the creature. He'd made his way close to the stomach of the beast, intent of shoving his blade upwards and forcing the beast to the ground.

"No, this killing blow," the voice belonged to Gnash who leapt up and delivered the killing blow to the creature. The beast shuddered once and then crumpled to the earth causing the ground to shudder by its massive weight. The beast slid across the ground before coming to a halt some ways off. Ahn flipped his blade around in his hand, the blood on it sliding around. Leaning over, he wiped it off on the tall grass before sheathing the massive weapon at his side. His grin never left his face as he figured that either Bane or Gnash would get the kill whilst he and Feral had been messing around.

"Why did you do that!? I told you that I would be the one to land the killing blow..."

"Well, dear battle-sister, if you were less focused on the theatrics and showing up your blade-brother and more focused on working with the group to bring down the prey... You may have been the one to land the killing blow."

"There will always be another hunt, blade-sister," Ahn said, patting her shoulder with his hand. Leaning over he grinned at her, "Of course our next hunt, I'll be the winner. You should train hard, Feral if you want to take the next kill," he laughed and quickly stepped away from her so that he could start helping to skin the creature and take back the meat to the village.



The badlands were slowly turning into thick trees and the further they went, the more it seemed that people were around. There were quite a few trails that the pair passed, and then finally they'd come upon a main road. Havinthir turned right and left as he glanced down each way of the main road which was empty at that moment. He wasn't sure which direction they should head in as it had been some time since last he'd visited the humans realm. Of course, being out in the wilds with the Vyldkin had made him used to following the open air as a direction.

With a slight hum, the elf turned and glanced down at Berry and gave her a small smile, "Well, any direction is good. If we follow it, we'll be lead to the human's developments no matter what. Their main roads always connect their cities," with that, Havinthir chose to go left down the path. He followed it for some time, leading the way before he came upon a group of people up on horses. Havinthir didn't recognize any of the people there, however his eyes did spot someone he'd only heard in legend and stories.

The elf's eyes widened and his heart skipped a beat. It was a Fheyga, but not just any Fheyga, this was the Lord of the Forest. One who earned respect from all of the elves, at least, that was what Havi had been taught. He never thought in all his years that he would meet the famed Lord of the Forest. He was frozen in place as his eyes laid upon the beautiful being before him. At first he wasn't sure what to do, but then his conscious kicked in and he realized he was staring at the Lord, a most disrespectful thing. Havinthir tapped Berry's head gently to gain her attention before he spoke to the elf.

"That is the Lord of the Forest, Berry," he told her softly and then turned his attention back to the man because he was going to address the Lord first before he addressed anyone else. He bowed low to the Fheyga before him and spoke in his own tongue, knowing full well that the Lord of the Forest would know what he was saying.

"Ver kesh derianshiy illiandiale," Havinthir greeted the Lord, his words smooth as they rolled off his tongue. He hoped that the greeting would be worthy enough to the Fheyga standing before him. Havi would wait until he was granted the permission to speak via the Lord before he spoke any further on the issue of why he and Berry were there.

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After about an hour from his awkward silence with the elf, the diplomat noticed through the underbrush that they were no longer alone. From a clearing just ahead of them, two more figures emerged--one an elf like Aransandorian, the other humanesque but rather stout. Either this woman was very short for human standards or she was a dwarf... although why a dwarf was so far away from her mountain home was anyone's guess. Either way, Ivorygate was rather intrigued by the newcomers, especially when one of them seemed so out of place here in the forest.

The newcomer elf began to address Aransandorian in elvish, although this was a dialect that the ambassador had little experience with. That, coupled with the fact that the two were speaking rather quickly with one another in two completely different tones and inflections, made it all the more difficult to attempt to comprehend what they were saying to one another. The dwarf, however, was rather quiet and merely watched as the conversation unfolded, much like the other non-fheyga in the clearing. Perhaps the dwehga could make out bits and pieces, but then again, the ambassador had no way of knowing otherwise--how long had she even been on the surface? What of these newcomers? Apparently, they seemed to be fine, as Aransandorian was not attempting to murder them as he had the bandits from earlier. However, he did seem somewhat distant... maybe that ennui was just a part of who he was as a deep forest dweller...

"...what do you two speak of?" The ambassador looked toward their guide with curiosity and genuine interest. "What are they doing out here..." He realized that it was probably not a very good idea to let his curiosity get the better of him, so he held his tongue and allowed the elves to converse with one another until Aransandorian was ready to explain the current situation to them.

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They must have been right on the edges of the Badlands, for with enough travel, they were treading into a thicket of trees. She followed Havi’s lead here—in the past, she had only ever skirted the edges of the elves’ forest, and visited one of their outlying settlements. Rikash had had a great respect for the forest-dwellers, enough to leave their lands alone unless he had a definite reason to be there. She had followed the same model since leaving him, so her familiarity with the area was very limited indeed. She tried not to break too much undergrowth as she passed, but she was no leggy elf, and a bit of damage was unavoidable for someone of her construction.

It took a while, but eventually they came upon a band of travellers, and she was about to hail them when she was tapped on the head, Havi indicating with something approaching reverence that the mounted elf was someone of importance. She chose to keep her peace during the exchange, though, and watched with undeniable curiosity as her friend bowed low and spoke in one of the elvish dialects. Her eyes flicked over the rest of the travellers for a few seconds, then back to the man Havi was addressing.

Aransandorian tilted his head faintly to one side at the address, nodding slightly upon the other elf’s greetings. A child of the middle lands, from his language and inflection. Aran answered in the same. “Adrast ist valla, fheyga’dahl.” Rise, and be at peace. The next few minutes, he spent inquiring after the nature of the newcomer’s business here, specifically why he was accompanied by one of the durgen’len, the stone people. The answers he received were a bit surprising, but nevertheless, he turned to Ivorygate upon the human’s question, and answered in the common tongue.

“They seek the same as you, it seems: a way to meet with the vyldkin. It appears another settlement has fallen.” His words were pronounced with the same neutrality as most of the things he uttered, and Berry nodded solemnly.

“We saw smoke on th’ ‘orizon, ‘n’ followed ‘t. Everythin’ was burned ‘fore we got there, ‘n’ th’ people dyin’…” her own voice was heavy with sorrow, and she addressed herself equally to all those present, though that was somewhat difficult, given that all of them were mounted and she was under five feet tall. “If’n yer goin’ t’ see th’ vyldkin, then we’re headin’ th’ same way.”

A man, an elf, and a dwarf walk into a bar...

Talael was sure the humans had a joke for these sorts of situations, but she couldn't quite recall it. More to the point of her concern was the further addition of strangers stumbling across Ivorygate's little group, and another elf at that in addition to a dwarf of all people. She tilted her head, trying to listen in as the two elves spoke, but her understanding of their tongue was limited and her own language was varied enough that she could only understanding a smattering. Her eyes narrowed at what she did comprehend, that the elf immediately knew Aransandorian and gave him his due respect. Most curious indeed.

She continued to listen as the dwarf spoke now. Another vyldkin attack, another burned village. Talael cleared her throat, looking to Ivorygate as she spoke. "If I may inquire, ambassador, how we are to approach the vyldkin? Talael grimaced at the thought of walking into a vyldkin camp with only the pretense of diplomacy as protection. It was a pretense she did not expect the vyldkin to understand. "Given that they have made their aggressive intentions rather clear, they may react with hostility even if we approach with peaceful intentions." Talael paused, glancing at the ambassador's guard. "The knights are not quite peaceful looking either." She said dryly.

“Adrast ist valla, fheyga’dahl.” The Lord said and Havi stood up straight, though he did not directly meet the elf Lord's gaze. So strictly set in the ways of respect towards their Forest Lord, he did not wish to seem arrogant in front of the beautiful man, nor to upset him in anyway. What transpired next was a set of questions asked in the elven tongue to which Havinthir answered easily enough. His head was bent forwards slightly as he answered the Lord's questions.

“They seek the same as you, it seems: a way to meet with the vyldkin. It appears another settlement has fallen.”

Havinthir flicked his gaze over the group that had been with the Lord. He noted that most all of them were human and the guards looked rather... intimidating. They meant to go meet the Vyldkin like this? An eyebrow rose as he took in the escort and the man who seemed to be the leader of the entire group. What did they intend to do so heavily armed and looking ready for a fight?

“We saw smoke on th’ ‘orizon, ‘n’ followed ‘t. Everythin’ was burned ‘fore we got there, ‘n’ th’ people dyin’… If’n yer goin’ t’ see th’ vyldkin, then we’re headin’ th’ same way.” Berry said, speaking up so that the attention was on her.

Havi reached out and gripped her shoulder for comfort. His eyes dropped to her, feeling her own sorrow as well. Both of them had been hurt by the events they'd encountered.

"Illiandiale," Havinthir started, addressing the Lord of the Forest by his title in elvish, "Con vash Beryl-" he introduced Berry to the Lord and was about to continue with his own name when he was interrupted. A woman's voice issued from behind someone up on the horses and Havi strained to see who it was. After a moment he finally caught a glimpse of the feminine voice. It belonged to a dark elf and her lips were twisted into a frown as she spoke. Havinthir was more than curious about her reasoning for being with the guards right then.

"If I may inquire, ambassador, how we are to approach the vyldkin? Given that they have made their aggressive intentions rather clear, they may react with hostility even if we approach with peaceful intentions. The knights are not quite peaceful looking either."

Havi looked between each of the guards and then back to the woman whom he'd spotted as she'd peeked out to speak to the man in charge directly. Figuring it was better to speak the common tongue rather than elvish, he cleared his throat to get the attention of the people around him.

"I've acted as a medium between the two peoples before," he offered, "I've spent many years among the Vyldkin. I can assist in the negotiations, depending on what they may be. I do hope that you intend to help the Vyldkin..." Havinthir added slowly, pausing to measure the reaction to his words, "Though I must agree with the Dwegha, your men are a bit... imposing."

Jura tried to keep her mouth shut. She really did. But it was rather difficult. She was used to blurting things out and that obviously wasn't going to fly in this situation. Especially not with mister super uptight ambassador and the lord of the forest. And the hulk of a guy she was sharing her horse with. In fact, as the two newcomers began to speak, she had slid off the horse and tried to see what was in front of her for once. The young woman still had her hands over her mouth in a vain attempt to keep herself from talking since none of the group seemed to like that. And she need a ride. So Dodger stood by the horse, her mouth covered and trying to stay silent. But being quiet wasn't really her forte.

"Though I must agree with the Dwegha, your men are a bit... imposing." At that, Jura couldn't help but open her mouth.

"I know right? First time I saw them, I would have been a little bit put off if I wasn't...you know hopelessly los-oh come on!" Jura exclaimed as she realised what she was doing. She slapped her hands back onto her mouth and started cursing herself, muffled by her hands. She made a face before looking up at Geoffrey.

"Come on! I was trying really freaking hard that time! No fair." She pouted, crossing her arms and making a face. She didn't care how silly she looked, she had tried to be quiet really hard and boy, was it difficult. And then Dodger ruined it by talking, of all things, about guards?! Well that was just not on. Those guards were going to pay. Later. Now she had to get back into Geoffrey's good graces. Into everyone's good graces. Jura let out a tired sigh and mused that life was a while lot simpler before the vyldkin decided to wreck the joint.

"I'm sorry, ok? I really did try that time..." Dodger spoke quietly, her eyes down cast. The young woman cringed under what she imagined would be a harsh glare. She scratched her head gently before sighing heavily. "I'll get back on the horse now."

"I know right? First time I saw them, I would have been a little bit put off if I wasn't...you know hopelessly los-oh come on!"

Havinthir was slightly taken aback at the sudden noise that came from his left side and just slightly behind the Lord of the forest. He turned his body just enough to get a glimpse of the youthful girl that had spoken up so loudly and so energetically. The look on her face, however, was cause to Havi's smile as he watched her pout and cross her arms over her chest. She was obviously upset about something, though the elf wasn't quite sure what it was though.

In any case, she announced that she would get back up on the horse after apologizing about whatever wrong she'd done and he lost sight of her as she remounted upon the creatures that kicked at the ground impatiently. His gaze shifted back to their leader and bowed his head slightly before taking a breath to continue what he had in mind. He hoped that they would be allowed to join them in finding the group of Vyldkin's as he highly doubted that an armed guard walking into one of their camps was going to garner a good response.

"What I mean to say is that we would like to join you," Havinthir said, restating his earlier sentiment but in a more clear sense, "Beryl and I would gladly help you in finding a Vyldkin settlement. We, ourselves, are also looking for one. I do, however, ask that you should perhaps allow me to do the talking, or..." he stuttered part way as his eyes shifted ever so slightly to the Lord, "Illiandiale to speak if he so wishes. I fear that your armed men would do nothing to stem the growing tensions."



Ahn shook his head as he watched Feral tear into the meat with ferocity. Though he cared for her deeply, her tendency to rage through things, to tear things apart, and most especially her blood lust, got in the way. He didn't care for that part of her and wished that she could see herself through his eyes whenever it cropped up. He wished that she could understand what others were telling her and to reflect on the way that she was acting.

Bane tried to talk to her, but it seemed nothing to would get through to her and only angered her more. She continued her hacking and argued that she didn't want to hunt to eat, but to go into battle and fight and prove herself. Ahn understood her feelings for such things, but agreed with Bane entirely on his perspective. She was far too impulsive, far too angered about everything to be considered a warrior. With a shake of his head he looked away to concentrate on his own work as she left them to butcher the kill.

"What do we do with her?" Ahn sighed softly as he concentrated on cutting into the thick meat and pulling it away from the bones.

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“They seek the same as you, it seems: a way to meet with the vyldkin. It appears another settlement has fallen.” The elven newcomer had spoken with a strange sort of aloofness the ambassador had seen with their kind, but the news was indeed grim. If another vyldkin settlement had been attacked, this would only increase the chances that they would react rather violently to a human presence. The dwarf that accompanied the elf in his travels mentioned seeing the smoke on the horizon and the scene that they had come across in their travels across the badlands--it made Ivorygate sick to hear about the atrocities that the unknown attackers had gone through to ensure their destruction.

"If I may inquire, ambassador, how we are to approach the vyldkin? Given that they have made their aggressive intentions rather clear, they may react with hostility even if we approach with peaceful intentions... The knights are not quite peaceful looking either." Talael had interjected her own thoughts on the matter. While Geoffrey had no intention of running into the middle of a vyldkin camp with all of his guards (he had insisted that he be only accompanied by his captain, but the king forced upon him a small contingent of troops), his men surely gave the impression that they were going to force themselves to fight against at least one hundred combat-ready vyldkin to the death. It was, in fact, most definitely the wrong impression that he wanted to give, to be sure.

"I've acted as a medium between the two peoples before," the elf offered, this time in the common tongue. "I've spent many years among the Vyldkin. I can assist in the negotiations, depending on what they may be. I do hope that you intend to help the Vyldkin... though I must agree with the Dwegha, your men are a bit... imposing."

The ambassador was about to open his mouth to respond to the elf when Jura interrupted his thoughts yet again. She seemed to have a knack for doing that, which was somewhat endearing in a way but completely unnecessary in all others. At the very least, the young girl had apologized and climbed back up on her horse in an attempt to make sure that her unnecessary comments would try to be curbed better... although Ivorygate highly doubted it.

"What I mean to say is that we would like to join you," the wandering elf repeated, turning his attention back toward the ambassador. "Beryl and I would gladly help you in finding a Vyldkin settlement. We, ourselves, are also looking for one. I do, however, ask that you should perhaps allow me to do the talking, or..." he stuttered part way as his eyes shifted ever so slightly to the other elf that had been leading the way through these woods. "Illiandiale to speak if he so wishes. I fear that your armed men would do nothing to stem the growing tensions."

The ambassador frowned slightly at the mention of his men. "I very much appreciate the concern, fheyga'mal," he bowed slightly, trying to show as much respect as he possibly could to the newcomer. "Our intent on visiting the Bloodrazor tribe is purely for diplomatic reasons--with news of this new village being razed to the ground, they would not take a small contingent of elite guards as lightly as humans would. My intent was never to bring them into the camp at all, if that puts you all at ease. They are only escorting me there in case of..." here, he turned his head slightly toward Aransandorian and smirked. "...bandit attacks." He hoped that he was not being too forward, especially with this other elf seemingly terrified to even look at another of his own kind.

"When it comes time for negotiations and attempts to keep the peace, only my captain will accompany me--I must admit, I'm not quite the best when it comes to swordplay..." He looked over to the man atop the horse that Jura was attempting to climb onto. "I need some protection, after all. The rest of them will sit outside of the camp making sure that anyone that feels uncomfortable with going into the vyldkin settlement is protected. From what I understand, though, it seems as if almost all of us have something to say in the matter... whether through personal experience or through the eyes of their race." The diplomat coughed and cleared his throat, looking back toward the elf and dwarf--Beryl, he believed the newcomer had called her.

Ivorygate took a few steps forward, extending a hand toward them and offering a stoic smile. "I apologize, I should introduce myself--Geoffrey Ivorygate, Ambassador of the Hold. If you can offer assistance in any way, it would be greatly appreciated. Our guide is hoping that we will make it to the Bloodrazor settlement before nightfall, so please--find a horse that will accommodate one more rider and make yourselves comfortable." With that, the diplomat nodded to the both of them and then quickly looked back to the guards atop their mounts. "Feel free to introduce yourselves to the others as well--I apologize once more for the informality of the situation at hand, but time is indeed of the essence, and we must continue forward if we are to arrive at our destination." Geoffrey turned and walked back to his mount, taking a minute to make sure he was seated comfortably in the saddle.

"Are we ready to continue, Illiandiale?" Ivorygate turned his attention toward Aransandorian, testing out the title that the new elf had used--perhaps in the near future, he could talk with the both of them about their formalities, but there were much bigger things than this looming over them now.

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At Ivorygate’s comment about bandits, Aransandorian quirked the eyebrow over his blue eye, curling one side of his mouth into the faintest of smiles. Well—from the looks of things, they were adding yet more people to their growing repertoire. It was hardly what he’d expected when they came upon him, and in all honesty, the diversity in representation here seemed to him likely to muddle the effort: however good or compelling they were as individuals, they were unlikely to be brining the same message, and the important parts might well get lost in the minutiae. Then again, he was no diplomat, merely the guide, and a man who wanted other peoples’ battles out of his forest.

The human gave his name, and the dwarf responded in kind. “Beryl Shatterheart—Berry, ‘f ‘s’all th’ same t’ ya.” Interesting; he did not believe that ‘Shatterheart’ was a dwarven surname. Linguistically, it bore more similarities to the sort of thing vyldkin would name themselves. Bloodrazor, Ebonclaw, Shatterheart… the names almost always alluded to violence or predation. Such things were, after all, the central features of the culture.

But it was time to be moving again, and from his mount, Aransandorian nodded. “Of course,” he replied simply. He had never not been ready to proceed. The sooner they got moving again, the sooner this whole matter was resolved and everyone here was no longer stomping through his forest. Fúmella shifted slightly beneath him, the large creature herself clearly inclined to be moving, though she was patient.

“All righ’, then…” the dwarf said, glancing at the horses a little nervously, then back to the Lord and his… was that a deer? It looked kind of like a deer, only much larger. It was a bit bigger than the horses, actually, but it still managed to look… nicer. Dwarves and riding weren’t really the easiest of concepts to dovetail together, and honestly, she was a bit leery of the proposition. So, socially-oblivious being that she was, she glanced back at the mounted elf. “Beggin’ yer pard’n an’ all, uh, m’lord, but… d’ya mind ‘f I ride with ya? ‘Orses an’ me, well…” she trailed off awkwardly.

Aransandorian was a little surprised. He was far from sociable, and this dwarf’s elven counterpart was practically falling over himself with the conventional courtesy (a rather common occurrence when he met other people). More than that, though, he believed himself to be rather successfully projecting a standoffish demeanor, which she seemed entirely willing to ignore. Either that, or she simply didn’t notice. Whatever the case, he blinked slowly, once, then lowered his arm, which caught hold of. Between her jump and his tug, she was situated behind him in one try, shifting about uneasily. “Just hold on to me,” he said with a measure of irritation. She complied, and stopped fidgeting. Deciding that expediency demanded it of him, he turned his eyes on the other elf, arching a brow. “And you? Fúmella can take three.” If the three were all of moderate weight, anyway, and the dwarf seemed rather reedy for one of her people, though still stouter than an elven or human child of comparable height.

Whatever Havinthir decided, they were on their way again shortly after, weaving through the forests. The trees were beginning to thin out, a sure sign that they drew nearer to the plains. After a while, they broke the line of vegetation entirely, the arbored path spitting them out into a grassy field. With time, the grass grew drier, and one began to understand why the lands the vyldkin occupied were called “the Dead Earth” by the elves. Not much, if anything, willingly grew in such a place.

“We approach Bloodrazor territory,” Aransandorian warned. “Fain exercise caution, if keeping your life please you.” That was not to say he expected to be attacked, but keeping one’s steel loose in one’s scabbard was never a bad idea in such places.

He was carrying a large sack of meat from the beast that they had downed. Ahn hadn't seen Feral on their way back to camp and he sighed heavily. The large Vyldkin walked into camp and offered the fruits of their labor to the elder. He hardly payed attention to the greeting, or what was said afterwards. Instead he left the sack with one of the cooks, and went to look for Feral. She was obviously in a very bad mood, but he didn't care about that. Someone needed to talk to her, and she really needed to start realizing certain things.

Ahn sighed again, not that she would do so anytime soon he was sure. As he was moving through the camp he caught a familiar smell. Stopping in mid stride, he turned towards their northern eastern entrance and looked out into the fields. Someone was approaching them and they weren't Vyldkin. With a heavy sigh, he knew that if he smelt the elf-kin, Feral did too. Perhaps if he got there first things wouldn't turn to bloodshed right away.

Ahn abandoned his search for the woman and started towards the entrance to their village. He would go out and meet them. A quick glance around told him that others of the tribe had caught wind of the scents as well. The elf-kin was the strongest, but with it was human and something else. A child? No, that wasn't it. What an interesting smell... Ahn shook his head slightly and continued forward.

"Going out to see who comes our way?" Rothgar's voice echoed next to him, and Ahn turned slightly to see the elder Vyldkin fall into step next to him.

"Hopefully before Feral gets there," Ahn commented with a slight shake of his head.



Havi's face had taken on a slightly pinkish tint as the Lord of the Forest offered to take him as well. He took the offer and hoisted himself up upon the steed easily enough. He leaned backwards, his light weight evenly balanced on the creatures back. He put on hand on Berry's shoulder, not to steady himself but to help steady her. Havinthir was sure that she wasn't used to being on horseback by the way she'd tried to get adjusted earlier. Her asking to ride though had bitten at Havi and he had almost intervened, but the Lord had agreed and so Havi didn't say anything.

“We approach Bloodrazor territory. Fain exercise caution, if keeping your life please you.”

Havi, who had been watching the terrain before them from over Illiandiaile's shoulder caught sight of something coming their way. His breath sucked in and he quickly dismounted. Landing on his feet, he kept pace with the horse easily enough before moving ahead of the procession. They met the small group of Vyldkin, a very tall and imposing looking one with silver hair eyed them all. His hand held his very large broad sword that looked as if it could cleave Havinthir in two with one swipe.

Havi quickly bowed to the Vyldkin and then smiled up at him, "We're here on peaceful terms. We would like to talk."

The one on the silver Vyldkin's right huffed in response, crossing his arms over his bare chest, "Peaceful, hu? Do you not have eyes, then elf?"

"Rothgar," the silver one cut in, his deep voice rumbling from his chest. The older looking Vyldkin shrugged and silenced himself.

"What is it you want, little Fheyga?"

"I personally come bearing sad news of one of the tribes. I am a traveler who lives amongst your people. I came across my dwarven friend," he motioned to Berry sitting behind the Lord, "and we stumbled upon the atrocity. The men I am with are also looking for a tribe to speak to. Though I've no knowledge on the subject, but I'm willing to bet it is on the same subject."

The silver Vyldkin looked between them all then nodded his head, "You and those that are your leaders may enter the village. The rest stay here. I do not trust you all that much to allow all of your armed men into my home. I'm sure my elder would agree. Follow me," the Vyldkin said, and turned on his heel and started back towards the village. Havi let out a sigh of relief. That had gone better than he'd expected. Hopefully things would stay that way.

---

---

After the others readjusted themselves atop their respective mounts, Ivorygate nodded and directed his horse after Aransandorian's stag. He made sure to keep his horse close behind the leader--as much as he wished to take command of the situation, he realized that these individuals may have as much of a reason to attempt to stop any further destruction from the vyldkin as the humans and have just as much of a right to help the cause as he did to lead them. Besides, he had no idea how to manuever through these woods, and Aransandorian was more than capable of leading the group through.

The others were rather quiet, which was interesting for a change. They all knew of the severity of the situation, and of course they knew that another destroyed settlement would only rile them further. Silently, the ambassador hoped that it would not come down to an entire settlement raining claws and steel down upon their ragtag group for even looking at someone in an awkward manner. If there was one thing that they all knew, it was that the vyldkin were not to be trifled with.

After a quick warning by their elven guide, the Bloodrazor settlement came into view, a small band of vyldkin standing by the outskirts of some of their large tents. They appeared to be packing and relocating to another part of the badlands--an ill-timed attempt for negotiation on the king's part, but they had managed to find the settlement before too much had been packed away. There was indeed that small fortune that graced the ambassador's current predicament, and he welcomed any extra luck that might help their cause.

The newcomer elf dismounted and walked toward the observing vyldkin, motioning back toward the group after a brief moment. Their members appeared displeased to see the approaching diplomat, especially one that stood next to a silver-furred vyldkin that wielded a greatsword nearly as large as the diplomat himself. He held his breath until the very moment that the group turned back toward their settlement, leaving the elf alone.

Taking the suggestions of the others into account with regards to his guards, Ivorygate dismounted and stood next to his steed. "Captain, you and your men will stay behind with the girl, make sure she does not come to harm while we discuss a potential peace deal."

"Sir, I will not allow myself to stay outside while you are putting yourself in peril," the captain protested, dismounting as well. "I insist on coming inside the settlement with you."

"Captain, I order you and your men to protect the girl. Take yourself a ways away and guard her with your lives. They already feel ill at-ease that we are even here, and allowing armed men into their complex will only serve to fan the flames. Besides, what difference will one armed guard make against dozens of vyldkin armed to the teeth with weapons and claws and physical superiority. As your quarry, I command that you stand down and allow the vyldkin their comfort and your absence." Ivorygate was not very pleased with the idea of an armed guard entering with them and being perceived as a threat to the very thin patience that the vyldkin had for their entire situation.

He turned to the others aside from Jura, grim-faced and stern. "Anyone that doubts their words and desire for peace stays out with the guards. They will protect you outside of the walls better than you would be able to help the cause." With that, Ivorygate turned back toward the elf and the retreating vyldkin, intent on continuing forward with diplomatic action, something that he was keen to begin. He had a feeling that the elves, the dwarf, and the dwehga would be interested in assisting him, but in what way? He supposed that they would undoubtedly have their reasons for making sure that war did not break out between the humans and the vyldkin, but would the elders of the Bloodrazor clan feel as if they were conspiring against their race in doing so?

The vyldkin of the camp shot the ambassador and the others dirty looks, wondering whether or not they would follow them to the large tent in the center of the camp. Ivorygate sighed and pushed ahead, leaving his guardsmen and Jura behind to wait for their return.

---

---

She realized what she had done. Fleeing from a hunt was hardly the most honorable thing one could do for the tribe, especially the final hunt before an Exodus, but she had done what she felt was necessary to keep herself from lashing out at her tribesmen. They technically had done nothing wrong, but her pride dictated that she was to have been the one to have landed the killing blow--none but the greatest of hunters were able to slaughter those massive beasts, even with help; but did that mean Gnash was a better hunter than she? Impossible! There was no conceivable way that Gnash was any better of a hunter than she! He was never as adept at combat and stealth as she!

The vyldkin continued to run across the badlands, not knowing whether the others cared enough to follow her--she highly doubted it--but still running with her axe at her side nonetheless. She needed to get away from the others for a bit, let herself cool off, perhaps kill a few smaller creatures on her own before returning back to the camp. They would not just up and leave without her, after all. Even if they had, she knew where they would be heading next.

Up ahead, though, she saw a few slight puffs of black smoke on the horizon. Her eyes grew wide as she sprinted ahead to see what exactly was causing this disturbance. She figured that it would be some sort of fire, but what was burning out in the middle of nowhere? Perhaps a settlement was out this far into the wilderness, but she never remembered the smoke being so black--

The stench overwhelmed her nostrils as she ventured closer. Burning bodies. Shredded tents. Charred fur. Funeral pyres. The entire clan had been killed. By whom, she did not know, nor did she care. In her anger, she unlatched her blood-stained axe and stood up on two legs before hurling it down into the ground and roaring in anguish. The cry echoed off on the winds, carrying as far as the vyldkin could see before disappearing across the horizon.

A rare sight indeed for a vyldkin to be brought to her knees, but sure enough, the sight of her blade-brothers smoldering before her very eyes was a powerful one. She knew this clan--the Whisperblades. They were a clan that managed to produce fine razor-sharp weapons; even she used a Whisperblade-crafted axe despite her clan's insistence that Bloodrazor steel was stronger. She had even received a blessing for this particular blade, but now... with their crafters slaughtered and their legacy only perpetuated by tales and legends...

The vyldkin felt a feral growl building in her chest as she released it toward the pyre ahead of her. She picked up her axe and reattached it to her belt--someone was going to answer for these crimes, and she herself would be judge, jury, and executioner. Turning to the south, the vyldkin bent back down on all fours before running away from the gristly site. Her clan had to know that the time for action was now before they were all slaughtered like the Whisperblades...