Havinthir Leitni's Story

Each crushing blow brought the sound of steel vibrating into the air. Dirt kicked up around their feet as the two Vyldkin fought with each other. It was a daily ritual for Ahn, training in the early morning and then once again in the afternoon when he was done with his work. With him was his close companion, a battle-brother, whom he'd fought along side for many years. The Vyldkin before him was a bit shorter than himself, but no less stockier in build than Ahn. Their blades glittered in the noon day light as they swung at each other once again. The feel of his heavy broadsword was perfect as it pulled him along, the weight acting as his movement.

Ahn maneuvered with his blade, knocking his battle-brothers to the side and then completed the attack with a sideswipe that was meant to catch the other Vyldkin across his bare chest. However, the shorter man dropped, allowing the heavy broadsword to glide right over his head. Ahn let the blade take him to the other side, twisting him around in a half circle to catch the oncoming attack meant for his back. The broadsword came over his shoulder, the flat of the blade against his arm and side, to effectively stop the others weapon.

His battle-brother pulled back and slammed his sword into the ground, leaning against it heavily. The two had been at it for several hours. Ahn grinned at his companion, "Done already, Rothgar?"

"I'm not as young as you," the other replied back with a short laugh. Rothgar was older than Ahn by almost fifteen years, but they had been close friends ever since Ahn could wield a blade properly. Ahn sheathed his weapon against his side, the large blade just barely held off the ground and that was only because of his height. A cool breeze swept through their village and he could feel the sweat that had beaded against his skin underneath his silver fur.

"I suppose we could stop here for the day," Ahn mused softly, reaching up to brush the hair against his jawline. His silver eyes watched his friend who had straightened and sheathed his own sword.

"You'll have to, I can't keep up with you like I used to."

Ahn smirked at this and strode over to the shorter Vyldkin. With a heavy pat on his shoulder the two left the training area that was simply an open field near the village. There were things still left to be done around where they'd set up for their village. They wouldn't be in that spot for very much longer as they moved often, following herds in order to feed their small community. Ahn, in fact, was going out on a final hunting mission before the tribe picked up their things and left the area to stop somewhere else and continue hunting. The last of the deer-like herds were starting to wander further east. So, that was where they were going.

"Do me a favor, Ahn."

"Hm?"

"Bring back something good to feast upon tonight!" Rothgar said and thumped him on his broad back, the older warrior sent Ahn stumbling forward from the hit.

"We will feast tonight," Ahn promised and left Rothgar so that Ahn could tend to his weaponry and join those that were going to hunt.

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The lithe elf was wandering the badlands for several days having left a clan of Vyldkin. Havinthir wasn't the kind of man to sit around in one spot for very long. Eventually he would get bored and needed something new. Not that the Vyldkin were boring, or stayed in one spot, but he needed a new set of faces to see. Havinthir enjoyed living with the Vyldkin much more than living with his own kind. They were interesting and wonderful to learn from, beautiful as well. At least, that's what Havinthir thought, but not many people shared his view points on that, except for the Vyldkin of course.

The elf stretched out his leather clad fingers and let the tall grass slip by. The sun was starting to come down from it's Zenith, marking the afternoon of the day. Though it's heat was intense, the warmth felt wonderful to the leather clad elf that wandered the tall grasses. He'd learned long ago how to live off the badlands from the Vyldkin. Havinthir knew everything there was to know about the forests of Xamos and how to survive there, but when he left those lush green trees, it was a new world to him entirely. Joining the tribes that traveled across the expanse of badlands was his best bet.

Havinthir enjoyed the things that he learned from them and implemented them all whenever he had a chance to. The only downside was the growing turmoil between the Vyldkin and the race of men. Tensions were boiling, threatening to break over the edge and bring chaos to the world. The elf hardly wished for that and wanted to what he could to stem the irritation between both races. Destruction of Xamos was the last thing Havinthir ever wanted to see. The lithe elf took a deep breath as his thoughts had turned to darker things and he cleared his mind.

He was out there to look for another tribe to join with, or whatever would happen upon him; Havinthir wasn't picky about these kinds of things. As long as it was entertaining, he would be just fine. Closing his hand he withdrew it from dragging along the grass next to him and set his gaze to the west. Human cities lay in that direction, but he was still far out from them. If he continued in his course, he should eventually hit another clan of Vyldkin. If he didn't, well he supposed he could go peruse around the human cities to see if anything new happened as of late.

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The air here in the Badlands was much drier than anything she was used to. Though she’d been told much of this place, she had never been before, and the words, however true, had not done the barrenness proper justice. ”Journey to the very center of the Badlands, where nothing grows save resentment and heartfire,” he’d told her once, ”and you will find my home.” He’d sounded… sorrowful when he’d said it, though why exactly that was, she’d been too young and insensitive to place at the time.

Now she was a little older and considerably wiser, and she had a feeling that maybe part of his meaning was clear to her. Everything Rikash had ever told her had layers upon layers of meaning, and she’d loved that, the challenge of setting her mind to peeling away at them without destroying them, like coaxing open a tightly-shut blossom. Words were beautiful things, capable of moving hearts and stirring souls, and he’d had a particular kind of way with them that she tried to emulate, though her voice, soprano and lilting as it was, would never carry the solemn, gravelly weight that his had.

She’d heard about the initial event, the spark that had ignited this conflict, what might soon become a war, and the term, heartfire had immediately leapt from memory into the forefront of her mind. It was important; she wondered if he’d known it would be. This was not something she would put past him—his wisdom had seemed to her at times almost infinite, and rarely had she found him stretched beyond the limits of his understanding. When they’d met, she had been in the very earliest bloom of youth, nothing more than a child, and he perhaps come to middle-age. Time had changed her little and he much, and she’d watched with deep disquiet as he grew old and died. It had taught her at the very least that age and wisdom were not one and the same, and she hoped that perhaps something of what he taught her could now be conveyed back to his people… if they would be willing to hear it.

She suspected the Shatterhearts would at least lend her an ear. Rikash had formally adopted her; she bore the mark of the warrior’s blood-bond, and any vyldkin would know what the scar signified: she was daughter to one of theirs, whatever skin she wore. How much weight they would give it would be the sticking point. His clan was small, but well-respected. The environment in which they lived was the most marginal, unyielding part of the Badlands, and it had toughened their small numbers to something of an elite force; he had told her that there was not one among his own clan who was not a fierce hunter. But they were also wise and discerning, as they needed to be to survive. The other clans… he had told her that if ever she met them, she must not count them too quickly among her friends. Berry had frowned at that notion—slow to decide in many matters, she was quite the opposite when it came to finding friends. It would be a difficult thing to remember.

Sighing, she paused at the crest of a small rise and peered out over the landscape. Nothing yet; she had not run into any wandering clan, and the Badlands were vast to the reckoning of one with short legs and no horse, but she was hardy, and she’d endure as long as she had to. Picking up a moderate lope (something else he’d taught her), she ate the ground at a decent pace, following a road mapped only by instinct and vague notions of cardinality.

It wasn’t long before she did spot someone, but she couldn’t help but think that, even from this distance, there was something wrong about the shape. Certainly, whomever it was could be considered tall (though to her, everyone was tall), but… they didn’t look broad enough. Either that was the skinniest vyldkin there ever was, or else no vyldkin at all. Pressing her lips together, Berry picked up her pace, kicking up little dust clouds with her passage. The grass was nearly as tall as she was, and she could only barely see over the top of it to gauge her position relative to this other person. Of course, she would have been able to follow the slightly-parted grass, but tracking by eye was much easier.

After about ten minutes of this, she at last drew up alongside the person, surprised to note the pointed ears and fine-boned facial structure of an elf. What was an elf doing all the way out here? Then again, it was probably no more curious than her own presence.

“’Ello, stranger,” she greeted amicably. “I’ve got t’ say, I wasn’ quite expecting t’ run int’ anyone what wasn’ vyldkin, out ‘ere.” The statement carried the implications of a vague question, but it was no accusation by any measure.

He'd noted her watching as he and Rothgar had been sparring, it wasn't uncommon for many of the other Vyldkin to watch a fight. It was how they all learned, how they grew together and became stronger. So when she fell in beside him during the ritual to begin the last hunt, he was hardly surprised.

"Brothers and sisters! The time has come once again for the final hunt before our exodus! Those that wish to prove themselves worthy in the eyes of the Bloodrazors, step forward and hunt for your people!"

Ahn growled in appreciation for the words and witnessed several of the people around him step forward, this included the smaller Vyldkin next to him, Feral Bloodrazor. Once she stated her name she shifted and looked back at him, her eyes wild with anticipation and fire that told him of her blood pumping and the adrenaline that was sure to be rushing through her.

"Are you coming, blade-brother, or am I going to have to drag you along by your mane?" She waved her hand at the group that had stepped forward. Ahn grinned at her and lowered his posture so that he was closer to her.

"Only you would wish to grab hold of my mane, dear battle-sister," he commented slyly then straightened as he stood up next to her. His size was quite formidable, but nothing too surprising for a Vyldkin, "I, Ahn Surestrike, accept this trial."

Glancing over to her, he grinned again at her, "Perhaps we'll see who can bring down the largest of the herd?" He chuckled softly to himself as he watched her interested to see her response but knowing full well she wouldn't let the challenge go unanswered either. He had yet to spar with the fiery Vyldkin next to him, though he'd seen her in combat a few times before. She was just as good as any of them there and sometimes better depending on the situation. Ahn was eager to get the hunt underway, more eager to take the challenge against his battle-sister.



“’Ello, stranger. I’ve got t’ say, I wasn’ quite expecting t’ run int’ anyone what wasn’ vyldkin, out ‘ere.”

Havinthir was slightly startled by the noise that came from his waist. Looking downwards he witnessed a little girl suddenly walking beside him. He hadn't heard her coming and it was either a testament to her abilities or that he was daydreaming all too much. The elf shook his head slightly, then smiled at her. Seeing as she'd not drawn weapons against him, she was obviously friendly. He continued walking while she fell into step next to him. As he continued to observe her while talking, he realized that this wasn't a girl, but rather a dwarf.

"Pleasure, my dear. I'm Havinthir, but you may call me Havi for short if you wish," he offered to her. As he walked, he wondered why she was out there, but then her speech to him was pretty much the same question she was thinking for as to why the elf was wandering the badlands as well.

"To answer your question," Havinthir started, giving her a knowing smile, "I'm looking for another Vyldkin tribe to settle with for a short while. I just left one recently and have been wandering these lands for a few days in search of another. I find them fascinating to learn from and live with," the elf reached up and adjusted the strap along his chest that held his staff like weapon. A blade was on each end of the long green staff, the silver catching the sunlight every now and then as he walked.

"What about you, dwarf? Why are you wandering the expanse of the badlands? Seeking the Vyldkin as well?" He asked her, lifting an eyebrow as he looked down at her again.

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That he’d so readily picked up on her implications (and answered them) made Berry smile herself, tipping her head so as to properly meet his eyes for just a moment. She was maybe just a bit taller than his elbow, though, so naturally that made things a bit difficult. Then again, she’d travelled with Rikash for years, and he’d been such a giant that she’d just barely reached his waist. If there was one thing she was accustomed to by now, it was holding conversation with people taller than her.

Fair was fair, and as she strode along beside the elf, taking about two strides for every one of his, she considered the answer for a moment. Not because she was planning on saying anything untrue, but because it was a bit difficult to explain her presence here, even to herself. She was intrigued to learn that he had already lived with some of the vyldkin; it bore well on her own chances of success. She had to admit, she was quite curious about that, but it was only polite to answer his own question first.

Frowning slightly at the use of ‘dwarf’ as an address, she supposed she should supply him with something to use instead. “Beryl,” she corrected kindly, “Or Berry; I do like tha’ a bi’ better. I’m ‘ere because… well, I’m looking for t’ Shatterheart clan. A friend o’ mine was of them, and I owe ‘im a lot, so since I can’ repay ‘im, I thought I might see ‘f there was anything I could do for t’em.” She shrugged diffidently, though in truth she was much more serious about this than flippant, and that wasn’t exactly normal for her.

Of course, the part of her that was still a dwarf immediately noticed the unusual weapon at his back, and she could not resist another query. “’S well-made, that. N’er seen any with two blades like that. Issit vyldkin?” It wasn’t dwarvish, that was for sure. Still, she wondered what its material composition was, or more specifically, whether or not she could improve it. Her magic wasn’t much to look at—there were no glorious flashbangs or fancy mind-tricks, but she was good at improving things already present, and at healing wounds, when the occasion called for it, and both of those things were useful in their own fashions.

This grass was proving to be a difficulty, as most of it landed just below her nose, which was proving a most irritating fact about it. Trying unsuccessfully to push the majority of it out of the way, Berry sneezed abruptly, thrice in quick succession, sniffling and exhaling in a huff. It figured she’d be allergic to this stuff. She was seriously contemplating just hewing it down with her blade, but that would be disrespectful to the nature here and she didn’t want to do that. So instead, the dwarf tugged her scarf, a light blue piece of fabric, up and over her nose and mouth, so that she’d at least be breathing through an additional layer of something, which would hopefully help.

“So which clan were y’ staying with?” She knew of a few names, and the general descriptions associated with them, but in the end, she’d only ever actually met one vyldkin.

"With that blade weighing you down? I'll be dragging the carcass back to the camp before you can even raise your weapon above your head. Bet I can even do it without my axe, too..."

Ahn glanced down to her and grinned. Of course she would challenge him to a hand to hand competition. She was always like this, filled with so much energy and boasting her own skills. He didn't blame her though, not in the least. In a clan where the men were the warriors and the toughest out of them all, she needed something to prove her worth and her words were always backed up by her actions. Feral was strong, just as strong as their seasoned warriors, probably more so. He would responded to her, but their elder spoke up, cutting through the light rabble.

"Warriors of the Bloodrazor Clan, we bless you in the name of the gods so that your senses grow sharp and your aim strikes true," the elder spoke as he dipped his clawed hands into a bowl of blood. The crimson liquid soaked deep into his fur and he walked forward to the others, "With the blood of our ancestors, we bless you with vigor, strength, and speed," the elder ran his fingers along the side of Feral's face, staining her striped fur with the blood. He repeated the move with Ahn, Gnash and then Bane. Each member of the hunting party now marked with their ancestors blood to help them hunt. There was a bit of a rush as he was marked with the blood, a sense of being blessed.

As their elder continued the ritual, he threw dust into the fire and the flames burst forth in the color of green. Ahn's eyes widened slightly and he felt unsettled for a moment. Next to him, Feral was watching with the same amount of anxiety as he had. He doubled over slightly, his ears perked forward and his heart in his throat. He couldn't believe what he was seeing.

"Settle down!" the elder roared with a newfound ferocity. Immediately, the voices softened to dull whispers as the elder walked around the green fire burning in the pit. "This is a sign indeed... A great change is upon us all, brothers and sisters; do not fear it, but rather embrace it and let us seize the opportunity to determine where our new destiny shall lead us!"

Upon hearing the elders words, Ahn straightened and let his voice join those of the other male warriors around them. His roar was deep and vibrated his chest, no doubt reaching out to each Vyldkin that stood close to him. His elongated teeth were shown entirely then as he opened his mouth wide to roar his approval.

"Do not fear the omen, hunters--our ancestors still grant you a portion of their strength. You will be successful. Now go--prowl as one, strike as one, hunt as one."

Ahn followed after Bane and Gnash as they lead the way out of their camp. They were going deep into the badlands to hunt the herds around there before following them further east. Next to him, Feral had kept pace and then fallen forward to walk on all fours. He grinned at her as she caught herself and moved swiftly across the earth. He would follow her but his sword was far to long for him to carry on all fours. Besides, he could keep up well enough on his two feet.

"So... the portent...What do you make of it...?"

Ahn turned his silver gaze back down to Feral and sighed. Reaching up he rubbed the fur along his jawline as he thought, "I'm not sure, Feral. It could mean many things for us. Perhaps our hunt will not be of the herd we've been tracking? Or maybe we will hunt very well today," he kept his fears to himself. Ahn didn't wish to give her cause to worry or be rash. She did that well enough on her own, "Perhaps it means that I will win my challenge given to you," he grinned at her and watched her for her reaction.



“Beryl, or Berry; I do like tha’ a bi’ better. I’m ‘ere because… well, I’m looking for t’ Shatterheart clan. A friend o’ mine was of them, and I owe ‘im a lot, so since I can’ repay ‘im, I thought I might see ‘f there was anything I could do for t’em.”

"Ah, I see. That is very honorable of you, Berry," Havinthir replied to her, smiling warmly as they walked along the grass.

“’S well-made, that. N’er seen any with two blades like that. Issit vyldkin?”

"You have keen eyes, my dear. This weapon has been modified by Vyldkin weaponry yes. The staff was originally my own design from the forest I hail from. However, it did me no good if it could not protect me properly. Thus the clan I first visited modified it for me and this is what it became," he answered her, looking over his shoulder for a second to eye the silver of the curved blade that was attached to one end of the staff.

Next to him the dwarf suddenly began to sneeze, gaining his attention. Havinthir looked down at her and watched with a slightly amused and worried look on his face. It seemed she did not wish to cut through the grass before her, so she instead pulled a scarf up around her nose and mouth. Berry looked up at him then and he grinned at her in return.

"Leitvendi," he said to her in elvish. In the common tongue it would mean 'may you be blessed', but he was using it to excuse her for sneezing. Though he'd not been with humans for very long, he'd picked up on a couple things that they did, and blessing someone after they sneezed was one of them. A strange thing, but Havinthir had come to use it often.

“So which clan were y’ staying with?”

Havinthir sighed, "I wish I could say the Shatterhearts as to make your quest easier, but alas I was not with them. I just recently left the Dragonhide clan a few days ago. Now I am here looking for another clan to join and learn from. I've not been with a clan named the 'Shatterhearts' yet, but I'm intrigued to know of them now. Tell me, Berry, would you be interested in coming with me? Perhaps we could find the Shatterhearts together?"

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“Thanks,” she said, relatively certain that the word he’d used was supposed to be something polite said to excuse a sneeze. If it wasn’t, well, more the fool her, and she was willing to be a little foolish to think the best of people. She sniffled slightly, but fortunately for her it seemed that the scarf was doing its job, and she felt no need to expel further irritants from her lungs.

What he said then made her smile, and though the gesture itself was invisible beneath the shroud over her lower face, it was certainly beatific enough to crinkle her eyes at the corners. She had missed travelling with company, something she’d become fairly used to in Rikash’s tutelage. “Sounds like ‘n excellen’ idea, ‘avi. I’d be ‘appy t'.” She’d met but few elves thus far in her journeys, as Rikash had always seemed to be primarily interested in learning what he could of the humans, but she had ventured into the edges of their great forest-land, and though it was not her natural habitat, there was much to be said for it, indeed. The trees had swept overhead, their canopies a more vaulted ceiling than in any human cathedral or palace she’d ever seen. The people that grew up in such natural splendor had always struck her as a little splendid themselves, so naturally inclined to arts of grace and subterfuge and subtlety as her own were not. Even the way they spoke was more elegant, which was obvious when one compared her inflection to Havinthir’s.

Berry was clever, perhaps even wise, but she was not elegant.

"I'm glad. It's been a while since I've conversed with a dwarf. The last time I saw your kind was..." Havinthir tapped his lips gently as he thought back, "My... several years ago. Your people have such a way with creating things, enchanting and the like. I find it very intriguing to learn about," He stretched his hand out again and let it run along the tall grass. He was a bit lost in thought, memories of the past when he'd first ventured from his forest and encountered the other races.

"Not much've a smith, m'self," Berry admitted. "That w's m'father's trade. I do 'ave a fair hand with enchantmen', though." She supposed such things had become mundane to her through exposure; the talent for working metal had never seemed all that interesting or important when she was learning it. It was perhaps, like many things, a matter of perspective.

Shifting her eyes overhead for a moment, she was about to drop them again when she noticed something vaguely unsettling. There, on the horizon, was a thickening cloud of grey-black. It was small from this distance, but growing more visible as it plumed ever upwards. The dwarf's eyebrows drew together, and she tapped her companion's elbow, seeking to draw him from his musings. Pointing, she spoke. "'M I th' only one wha' sees tha'?"

The soft touch on his elbow drew his attention and he looked down at Berry with a soft smile. However, that smile didn't last as she pointed out into the distance to gain his attention on something that she'd seen. His sharp gaze caught the smoke that billowed on the horizon, gray plumes that rose up into the air one after another. Havinthir's breath caught as he narrowed his eyes, lips parting into a look of astonishment and a bit of fear.

"What happened?" Havi muttered. Glancing down to Berry, he changed direction slightly to go towards the smoke, figuring that she would wish to go there as well, "We should go quickly."

"Righ'," Berry agreed, easing her pace into a loping jog. She wasn't too concerned with leaving the grass undisturbed at this point, as it seemed that whatever that smoke signified, it was probably urgent. As they both triangulated themselves to head towards the smoke, it seemed to grow only heavier and more ominous, blotting out the sun above them.

Upon approach, it became clear that this was no simple brush fire. A thick, cloying smell hung in the air, and she recognized it as burnt flesh and something else... fur, maybe? It was a sickening thought, to say the least. Biting her tongue, the dwarf forged ahead, breaking from the confines of the grasses and into a wide clearing that had once encircled a vyldkin settlement.

What was left could hardly be called charred ruins. It seemed that everything flammable had burned, wood and hides and foods alike, and amidst the carnage lay the occasional body, unmoving and dead or else in the last throes of panicked life. Just from looking, she could tell that there was nothing her moderate talent for magic could do to help those that yet breathed-- some of them missing limbs or eyes or entire swaths of fur. Aside from the ragged breathing of these tortured survivors and the crackling of what flames remained to feed on the dregs of the encampment, there was no sound, and the stillness itself was eerie.

Berry hurried forth, unthinking except for the desire to aid those whom she saw. Rationally, she knew there was little to be done, but that could not quell the instinct to go to them, to kneel beside them, and to the first she saw she ran, the pearlescent shimmer of her magic licking at her fingertips, a spell for nothing more than to numb pain, to make death less of an agony.

"Wha' happen'd 'ere?" she asked aloud, though it was not clear if she expected the vyldkin she now knelt beside to answer.

"Dashindalli," Havi whispered to himself as he entered the ruined settlement. His heart was tight as he looked around the destruction. The vyldkin were either dead or dying and there was nothing he could do about it. His hands shook as he walked into the village. Berry had gone to one of the vyldkin on the ground, asking a question about what had happened. Havinthir wasn't sure if the vyldkin answered her or not.

Moving to another vyldkin, the elf knelt down next to her and pulled her head up onto his lap. She was just barely alive, her breath shallow and very slow. He didn't know how much longer she had. There was nothing he could do in the way of healing, and he didn't have time to prepare any sort of potions either. Nor would he be able to treat all of them. His jaw tightened as he looked down at the poor woman.

Resting his hand over her eyes, he muttered to himself in elvish, a simple prayer for her passing from this world to the next. He held her until she drew her final breath and stood up afterwards, angered that such a thing had happened. Havi went to Berry and the vyldkin she'd been next to.

"Did he say anything?"

The vyldkin coughed up blood, soaking into the fur on his chest. "...came from the shadows... fleshbags..." With that, the final breath escaped from his lips and his head fell back down upon the dwarf's lap, eyes staring off toward the infinite.

Berry eased him gently to the ground, closing his eyes, and stood morosely, wrapping her arms around her torso and hugging herself, as though that was the only thing keeping her insides in place. It was a rather sympathetic reaction, considering how many of these poor people could not say that their entrails were all where they properly belonged.

At Havinthir's question, she bit her lip. "'E said... tha' they came out o' th' shadows. 'E used th' term 'fleshbags,' which coul' mean anythin' non-vyldkin, so I 'ave no idea 'f this was somethin' the 'umans did or no'." She couldn't imagine why anyone would spring out of nowhere and attack a settlement like this, no matter who lived in it, but then perhaps that was a fault in her reasoning. If so, she hoped she never corrected the flaw.

"Fleshbags... It could mean anyone. This is terrible, Berry..." Havi looked to her and noted that she had wrapped her hands around herself. Stretching a hand out, he touched her shoulder, unsure if she wanted any other kind of comfort or not. He looked around them once more, the burning and the smell permeated the air. The elf was having a hard time standing it as he sat there. It was a sickening feeling that settled at the bottom of his stomach.

"Berry, we should do something with their bodies, we cannot leave them out here like this," Slowly he stood up and glanced around. There was enough fire to do the trick without having to make any, "We'll build pyres for them. I want to find who did this... I want to know why," Havi said in anger.

Berry glanced up at her fellow traveler and nodded firmly. "Righ'. 'S th' only thing we can do for 'em, now." Glancing about, she tried to locate the best place to construct such a pyre. A neaby building, having been made of wood and once-stretched leather, was still burning quite vigorously; it seemed like that would be the best place for it.

"'F we can move 'em o'er there, we can give 'em a proper sendin'-off, a' leas'." She pointed out the place she had in mind, but there was no way she'd be able to move all these people herself. Sturdy and strong she may be, but vyldkin were massive as a rule.

Havinthir looked over to where Berry pointed. The building was already burning and it would serve to be a pyre. Havinthir wasn't very strong, but he could at least drag some of the smaller vyldkin over to the area. The others that were much larger he would have to use his magic for. However, the elf would have to be careful not to use too much magic. It would be bad if his levitation came back on him.

"I can drag a few of them, if you could help me," he said and began dragging a few of them that he could over to the burning building. Once he'd gotten all that he could near the building, Havi stood over them and took a deep breath. Lifting his hands up he pulled the power into existace, calling his magic to wrap around the bodies before him. Carefully he lifted them, one by one and put them into the building as far as he could without putting too much strain on his own body.

Thankfully there weren't many to lift, but even so at the end of it, Havi was breathing heavily, his body feelng heavier than usual. As he let go of the last one, he dropped onto his hands and knees, heaves of air being brought into his lungs that felt as if he'd had a very large animal sitting on top of him.

After helping the elf drag the first few, she watched with some apprehensiveness as he levitated the rest, pursing her lips when he'd finished doubled over with the exertion. Though she had some talent for alteration, it was more in the realms of organic and inorganic material, not something as esoteric as manipulating gravity.

Still, there was something she could do. Picking her way over to him, the dwarf splayed a hand over his upper back, reaching for her own magic and applying a burst of healing energy to him. "I know 's not really me you're doin' this all for, bu' thank you 'nyhow," she said simply, withdrawing her hand and turning towards the pyre.

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Some time later, the pyre had burned low and the bodies were all ash in the wind, as the vyldkin preferred to be after death. "Seems like we should be tellin' someone abou' all this..." she mused thoughtfully. "Bu' I dunno who, 'xactly."
Havi nodded. He was standing now beside the shorter woman, his eyes lingering on the ashes of the village. They should report this to someone, but who exactly? Who was going to listen to a story that involved the death of an entire vyldkin village? There were not many who cared about the race. With a sigh he turned to Berry.

"Looks like we need to go find who will listen and do something to help us. This definitely takes precedence over finding another village to travel with," Havinthir turned away from the ashes. He knew that the human settlements were not far from where they'd deviated from. Perhaps a day or so walk.

"Let's see who we can find, maybe we'll get lucky," Havi said and started to head south.

"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.

---

---

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.

---

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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.

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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...