Xamos

"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?"

Talael smiled to the guard as she climbed up onto the saddle behind him, quite aware of his discomfort but choosing to ignore it. She was quite glad for the human propensity to follow the orders of their elders, despite their own foolish misgivings.

She relaxed into the saddle as the ride progressed, glancing around her surroundings somewhere between contentment and boredom, when she perked up as soon as she heard Geoffrey's exclamation.

Following Geoffrey's gaze, Talael saw the bandits, but made no move from the saddle. There was a plenty of well armed guards to deal with petty thieves, and she had no intention of revealing her magical abilities on a trivial matter that they could easily dealt with.

Of course, even that was not necessary. Talael sensed the hint of magic a half second before the ground swallowed up the bandits. She tensed, wary at the impressive display of power. She peered at the figure, watching from the saddle as the guard directing the horse stayed with Geoffrey.

It was an elf, she realized and she promptly pulled up her hood, tugging it as far as it would conceal her face and more importantly her dark skin. Talael shifted a bit in the saddle, letting the guard and his bulky armor hide her from view. She had little interest in bantering with a Fheyga over outdated petty conflicts and animosities, and was content to let Geoffrey deal with him.

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The black blade blossomed from the back of a bandit, but Aransandorian did not linger long enough for the fool highwayman to collapse upon him and weigh him down, tearing the shortsword from the man’s rent flesh and pivoting neatly one foot, bringing it up to parry the next downward strike from a bastardsword, ducking under the simultaneous hammer-strike with uncommon fleetness. Lighting a palm-sized flame in one hand with a thought, the elf shot this over the bar of his sword-arm, unceasing in motion and not bothering to watch as it smote a third man, dropping him to the earth below.

Snaking upwards from his crouch, the lithe man twisted, contorting in such a fashion as to come up under the guard of the swordsman he’d parried, swiveling his dagger so that he had a backhanded grip upon it and thrusting it into the side of the bandit’s abdomen, in between the gaps in his leather armor. Rotating his own torso, he brought the fellow in front of the next hammer blow, which crushed his skull like an overripe fruit. A swift clenching motion of the fist as he again withdrew the darkened blade from the body of a dead man, and a small buckle appeared in the ground, tripping the hammer-wielder and sending him backwards into another throng of his comrades.

Aransandorian straightened, using this brief moment of respite to take stock of his situation. The entirety of events had taken no more than a minute—combat was quick like that. As he did, though, he felt the passing of many footsteps through the earth, and his mismatched eyes flickered in the direction of their arrival, to see a number of guards approaching, apparently intent on helping him with his little problem.

Well, if they wished to throw themselves into the fray, he was not going to stop them. It didn’t take much longer to make short work of what bandits remained, and a few with more intelligence than their comrades fled into the distance beyond. None of his business, as long as they did not think to enter his forest. Surely even they would not be so stupid as to disturb the sacred places of the elves.

On the heels of the guards came others—more dressed like them, two women, one with a hood over her face, and the other quite small, and a man wearing some armor and clothing with insignias of what Aransandorian could only presume to be rank. He was probably in charge, then, and thus responsible for ordering the other humans to aid him. To his surprise, the man spoke to him in elvish, albeit the tongue of the fringe-dwellers rather than the deep ones. It was still more than he’d expected.

“Alaquenta, istyar,” he replied in his own dialect, “for one who speaks the tongue of the thin-bloods.” The words themselves did not seem particularly kind, but he infused them with no malice, and indeed the language itself (high elven, a nearly dead version of the tongue) was of such a nature as to be almost musical in its cadence, and difficult to speak inelegantly, though he had no doubt a human could butcher it if given half the chance. “I am unhurt, though the same may not be said for all of those who sought to try me.” He glanced askance at the dead bandits. “Thine assistance was unneeded against simple rogues, but it does not go disregarded. I am called Aransandorian Dwin’shadr, by those who have cause to use a name of that kind.”

He assumed there would be more questions yet forthcoming, but he would not answer them until they were asked.

"The big one's mine..." Feral stated as the group came across the herd that they'd been searching for. He watched her as she took off after the larger beast. The rest of the animals startled as they caught wind of the Vyldkin's scent. Ahn let Feral get a head start before he ran after her, dropping to all fours to gain speed. Gnash and Bane had joined her, pinpointing the one that she was chasing.

The huge beast was almost three times their size, with long horns protruding from it's head, a long nose and a very large body that some would have mistaken for fat. No, this beast was all muscle and meat. It was striped dark grey and light blue and as the beast ran, the ground shook under it's feet. Ahn picked up speed as he chased after Feral and their prey. The terrified beast called out in animistic tones, half mewling and roaring as it tried it's best to run away from the four swift Vyldkin.

Ahn, once he'd gotten close enough, got up from all fours and drew his heavy broadsword. Rushing forward he slashed at the back of the beasts legs, trying to cut through to the tendons to bring it down. His first cut didn't go very deep as he'd slowed down from his earlier approach. Lunging forward he slashed again. The blade cut deeper, but it still wasn't enough to reach the tendons. The beasts' skin was very thick, it was the one thing it had going for itself when attacked by anything.

On the other side of the beast were Gnash and Bane. The creature screamed out as both Vyldkin attacked it as well. It was going to take all four of them to take it down. However, whomever got the last hit that killed the beast would be considered the one who took it down. Ahn was determined to get in the last killing blow, so his sword swings were aimed to bring it down as quickly as possible and then he would rush forward to kill it, hopefully beating Feral as he did so.

"Might want to keep an eye out, Feral," Ahn called to her, grinning as he slashed again, "Wouldn't want you to miss the killing blow that I deliver."

Jura was sat behind a lump of muscle on a poor horse that was trying to transport them both. The young woman would gladly walk if the ambassador wasn't so focused on get to this "Bloodrazor" place super quick. So walking was out of the question. She settled for petting the poor animal as it trotted along. She was amusing herself by following the pattern on her belt when a sudden stop caught her attention. Well, jeez. What was that for?!

At the cry of "Bandits!", Dodger's hand flew to her sword and she held the blade firmly in her hand. Fighting always was a strong point for the young woman. The hulk of muscle leapt off the horse and Jura was able to see properly. A group of people surrounded another man and they were getting their asses handed to them. Jura let out a whistle as the guy offed one of his attackers. The group of guards took off to help him out and Jura let out a huff, sheathing her blade. Didn't look as if she was needed here at the moment. Her green eyes moved quickly to see that Talael and Geoffrey were still on the horses. She watched as Geoffrey moved forward to do his whole negotiator thing. Jura herself vaulted off her horse elegantly, landing on the ground with a soft thump. She slowly made her way over to the newcomer, her eyes wide. New people were always so freaking awesome, especially ones that could kick ass. Dodger slowly hopped over to the ambassador, a soft grin upon her face. She felt she should make a good impression. But this was Dodger and good impressions weren't something she excelled in. She listened into the conversation quietly, sitting crossed legged upon the ground. Sitting was always her favourite position, no matter where she was. Didn't want to get tired legs or anything! She dipped her head as the man spoke, his voice sounding pretty to her ears. He even used funny words like "thine". That was adorable. She giggled and leant forward. She liked this guy so far.

However the name...the name would be a problem.

"Aransandori-what?!" She blurted out loudly, scratching her head. She then realised she had spoken out loud and blushed. "Not that there's anything wrong with being named Aransaiandorian...um...yeah. It's just where I'm from we have names like "James" and "Hannah"..." The young woman once again, realised she was rambling. "I'll be quiet now." She almost whispered, directing her words more at Geoffrey. She didn't mean to intrude but this guy was interesting. That and it really felt good to sit on something that wasn't constantly moving. Horses were fine and all but the ground was a lot more comfortable. Jura raised her eyes and sighed.

"I suppose I best introduce myself then so I'm not just "the girl who interrupts and rambles." Jura Darling, at your service. But call me Dodger. That goes for everyone, by the way." She turned to gesture at the guards. "Even you, Mister Ambassador, dear. No more of this "Lady Jura" stuff. I am as much as lady as my horse is." With a quick grin, she turned to the new guy.

"By the way, you kicked ass back there. It was pretty awesome." She flashed another wide grin before looking back at Geoffrey. She wasn't quite sure what this guy felt about her and wasn't too sure if he was going to shout at her or just plain ignore her.

Well, Jura was never one for simply wondering and this was as good a situation as anyone to find out.

She just hoped that if Geoffrey was going to leave her in the middle of nowhere, a guard would draw her a map of some sort.

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"Alaquenta, istyar, for one who speaks the tongue of the thin-bloods," was the reply that the ambassador received from the elf. Strange that it was in a dialect that he had never heard before--possibly something archaic, considering none of the elves he had ever spoken with had used language that sounded like this before. “I am unhurt, though the same may not be said for all of those who sought to try me. Thine assistance was unneeded against simple rogues, but it does not go disregarded. I am called Aransandorian Dwin’shadr, by those who have cause to use a name of that kind.”

The diplomat bowed his head in respect. "The honor is mine, fheyga'hahren. I am called Geoffrey Ivorygate, Ambassador of the Ivory Hold. Do you dwell in this forest? If so--"

"Aransandori-what?!" A shrill voice interrupted the conversation as Jura attempted to wrap her head around the elf's name. "Not that there's anything wrong with being named Aransaiandorian...um...yeah. It's just where I'm from, we have names like 'James' and 'Hannah'..." The ambassador shot the girl a stone cold glare, unamused by the interruption.

"...I'll be quiet now..." she whispered sheepishly to Geoffrey, her face turning a bright crimson in the process.

The ambassador merely brought a hand to his face and rubbed his temple, shaking his head slowly. "Abelas... The young one cannot control her... impulses..." Another look toward the girl before he cleared his throat, addressing the elf. "As I had asked before, do you dwell in this forest and protect it?"

The elf had been about to respond to the diplomat, inclining his head in a return of the respectful gesture, when he was interrupted by a disproportionately-loud feminine voice. At first, he did his best to assume that the interruption was a misplaced but well-intended one, and was intending to supply the proper last syllable to his name. It seemed, however, that his input was not at all required, as she continued to speak, cutting both himself and the human called Ivorygate off from the possibility of further communication.

Well.

If she was going to be uncouth enough to do that, he was going to ignore her, as was the expected response when one was irrelevantly interrupted. On no interpretation of her words could he assign them much consideration or courtesy, though he did note the name, as it was polite to do so. As soon as he was certain she was done, he turned back to the diplomat, who apparently felt the need to make her excuses. To this, Aransandorian merely elevated a single eyebrow, choosing to put it from his mind altogether and answer the meaningful question addressed to him.

"I do, though the center of mine realm is quite a fair distance from this place. I approach the edge that I might depart my ancestors' home for the first time in a century. I would inquire of you, and your purpose here." He was not going to assume that they were here to interfere, and they were close enough to the fringes that he would allow them to travel without confrontation, but that did not diminish his natural protectiveness of this place. He was not its guardian for nothing.

"You are fair to ask," the ambassador replied, bowing slightly once again. "My guardmen and I are currently seeking an audience with a nearby vyldkin tribe, and we must first pass through this forest in order to arrive in the quickest manner possible... Of course, this has been after a few detours..." he looked toward the girl sitting on the ground once again. "As you may have no doubt heard, the relations between humans and vyldkin are... rather uncomfortable at this time..."

Ah. This was logical. "I see." He took a moment to cast his eyes once again over the members of the group."This is a most interesting piece of wyrd, then, for I seek something of a similar kind. I am sure you understand that, given its location, my forest is bound to become the site of much bloodletting and outside interference if such a conflict were ever to rear its despicable head. I seek to avert this course, whatever the cost." There was a pause, and he allowed a moment for his implications to make themselves obvious.

"If you seek the most efficient way through my home, I will guide thee. Take nothing from it, and it will take nothing from you." He left out the part where he was the instrument of such retribution-- the point spoke clearly enough for itself.

A slight smile came over the ambassador's face at the good fortune. "Ma serannas," he nodded once more before turning toward the rest of the group. "Men, you heard the elf--do not disturb the forest as he guides us through toward the vyldkin clan. We do not need people doing things they should not be..." he more or less directed this statement at Jura, who sat off to the side of the group. "Now then, Aransandorian, do we continue on foot or on horseback?"

The elf considered this for a moment. "It would benefit you to keep seat upon thine mounts," he decided at last. They were not, after all, aiming for silence. "Though I do not advise straying far from the path I shall take, lest they turn their feet." Bringing his middle finger and thumb to his mouth, Aran whistled, the sharp sound infused with an almost-mirthful trill.

From the trees emerged a creature slightly larger in stature than the average horse, though it appeared to be some species of ibex or elk. Its fur was a tawny color, dappled in white, such that the outline of it seemed to blur against the trees. He'd sent her away when he felt the humans approaching, but there seemed little need to hide her now, and he swung astride her bare back with the ease of familiarity.

"It is best to continue now," he advised, "the journey will consume the better part of the day, even mounted, and it is ill-advised for the unfamiliar to linger in the forest at night."

Ivorygate nodded as he turned toward the others, noting that the drow had taken the time to cover her features as to avoid an unnecessary stigma between the two elves. "Back on the mounts, men--we follow Aransandorian'hahren and he will lead us to the tribe we seek." The ambassador mounted his steed, making sure to stay near the elven guide. "You say you are about to leave this place for the first time in a century. Perhaps you might share your wisdom of your sanctuary with one that seeks to better understand the ways of your people."

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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.