(Alright. It is time to start)

She had run. And run hard. Her anger kept her going. Her bare feet made no sound on the moss. The weather had become colder, more frozen. She knew this meant Lycan Territory. She stopped as she reached a small river. It was frozen over. She sighed, then put her hand to the ice, sending her senses into it to see how deep it was. Ten inches. Hm. She sent a surge of heat through the ice, and slowly but surely, a hole was melted in the ice, in the shape of her slender hand. She pressed after twenty minutes. The ice broke and she pulled back, holding a shard of slippery ice. She sucked on it, until it was gone. Then she looked back to the River.

She was unsure of where to go. All she knew was that she wanted away. She turned her gaze back the way she had come. Then growled and shook her head. Then Briena Erani Skysong spun and bounded deeper into the Lycan Territories.

(Okay. I'll include the other characters on my Roster in later posts LETS GET CRACKIN'!)

Moonlight danced through isolated openings of the leafless, wind shaken trees of the deathly lands, the silver rays played tag with each on the uneven snow cover. They spotlighted trickles of blood, causing the bright red fluid to illuminate a subtle glow, but not before the sanctuary of the dim light was smote by the cloud cover, taking away the light-show and converting the area to near blackness once again. A blood curdling scream rang through the thick woods, only to be cut short and end with a ghastly gargling sputter, and then a thud, as the fresh cadaver slams into the ground, creating a torrent of hot blood only to be frozen by the harsh cold moments later. The man's eyes go cataract with death and he sputters his last breath. "К черту с Вами, монстром..." With the last spurt of energy in his body he spits loose blood into the beast's face. The golden eyes burn down on the human as he grows cold. Azazyl's frame was then hit by the moonlight, letting the dancing rays jab at his black and silver fur and reflected, creating a silvery glow about him. The 430 pound Lycan leans and sniffs at the corpse's mangled neck. He was (Key word 'was') very drunk. The Lycan's massive head rose from the corpse and he let loose a hot breath form his nostrils, creating a puff of mist that would soon disappear. The melted xanthous eyes looked the man over and closed as the adrenaline left his system. He looks to his arm where the man had stabbed his short sword through. With a deep grunt he yanks the tempered metal from his flesh and he snaps it. The metallic ring echos through the blackened night, only to be struck down by a hungry howl within the distance. Azazyl dropped the broken weapon by the man and turned. He spoke silently to himself and to the dead man that lay rotting behind him. "Monster you say?" The thunderous voice rumbled, the Russian accent was clear, yet subtle within his dialect. "Your kind is the only monster I know of..." He chuckled slightly then. His chest bounced slightly with his laughter. "And no, to hell with you.."

Azazyl had torn some of the man's clothing from him, which he applied to the wound, which went through his entire arm. He tightened it around the bulging muscle and flexed, to make sure it would not loosen as he traveled. He then set off, to find something to wash the stink of this alcohol drenched smell from his fur. The Lycan bounded southward, towards the closest river he knew of and didn't look back, he knew that the body he left behind would not be there within the hour, someone or something will find some use for it, more than likely a cold meal. After a minute of a quick paced lope through the mist, Azazyl finally reached his destination, oh but what luck- it was frozen. He cursed aloud, though incomprehensibly in his first language. This setback did not stop him, he walked to the icy stream, it glistened under the thick ice. Azazyl raised his good arm (left) high, fist clenched, ready to strike the ice, which he would easily do. But his eyes caught glimpse of a hand print, though this wasn't unusual, many hand prints lay in the snow from various attacks, that are only to be covered by more snow within a matter of minutes sometimes. This hand print however... was on the ice, and went all the way through. Azazyl stared for a good twenty seconds and let his curiosity get the better of him. He looked up to the opposite side of the stream and grinned as his black pupils sighted tracks, not fresh, but no more then ten minutes ago. Azazyl looked back down to the hand print and then struck, the ice splintered and shattered under the power of his strike. It collapsed and then within a moment twenty feet of the gap was actually running water again. The hand print was gone, though he did not care. He'd seen it, the shape was distinctly female, long, thin fingers. The woman was tall, no doubts, possibly Elven. He hastily drank his fill and washed the taste from his mouth and leaped the fifteen foot gap that was once ice. He landed directly on the tracks and started after whatever this creature might be, through the cold, dark, deadly forest.

He had to give her kudos, she was deep, deep in Lycan territory, how she was still alive? Was anyone's guess. She must be being watched over by the Elders themselves.

A young elf wonders through a thick set of shrubbery, eyes peering on ahead of him. His mission had been simple, to scout out the area, kill anything that might threaten those who pass through it and to report back any findings that he had uncovered. He snorted in disgust as he remembered his orders, thinking that his talents were wasted upon such an easy and somewhat pathetic mission. He dared not argue with his superiors though as it would most likely have meant death. To them he was expendable and thus why they had sent him out into these lands. Snow covered the trees and the shrubs around him, the sound of flowing water cascaded in the distance.

He readied his blade though he need not have, there seemed to be nobody within this den of bushes. However, a foul smell wafted towards his nose and was soon absorbed by his nostrils. It was the stench of blood and as he stood there, a scream emerged from somewhere in the distance. He gripped his sword and ran towards it, his emerald green eyes gazing the area before him as his armor moved silently within the night.

He smiled as he moved closer to his target, thinking that perhaps this night he might fight or perhaps at least witness one from a distance. Though he was but one man, he was rather experienced in the ways of combat and readied himself for such an affair. His blade was pointed downwards though as to avoid catching the light from the moon and not to alert the enemy. He stopped in a shrubbery at the sight of the werewolf and the man fighting.

His smile simply widened at the thought of a proper opponent for the first time in many days. As the wolf ran he trekked silently after him, watching his every move. He concealed himself within the bushes near by and when the wolf stopped, as did he. He wondered why the wolf had stopped for a moment and looked about for the cause to find a young elf standing in the path.

He frowned slightly, thinking that she was to steal his kill. He had heard of nobody else being sent out here and thus did not know what the woman was doing out here. He pondered this for a moment before grimacing. He approached, getting closer and closing the gap between the wolf until he was out in the open and lunged for the wolf, hoping to injure if not kill the beast for all those it had killed.

Briena sensed that she was being followed, and stopped to stare over her shoulder. What she saw didn't surprise her. A Lycan. She studied his huge moonlit frame, the moon touched silver and black fur, the great long black mane, his great gold eyes. She felt a strange pull toward him.

A swift movement caught her attention. "Hellfire!" An Elven man. They were already on her trail?! She started to run, then realized that the man was headed for the Lycan, a nasty glint in his eyes... He was intending to hurt the Lycan... And in a place where he had no business. This was Lycan Territory.

Well, this would not do. She spun and Shifted into a Unicorn, a guardian of all Forests, and charged with a scream of challenge to the man. Her hooves churned the snow into clouds as she came on. Her horn dropped low as she drew close, and she moved to smack the blade from the fool of an Elf's hand. "Are you mad?! Do you want to start a war between the Lycans and the Elven Kingdom?!"

Her voice rang out, furious, as she reared up, dashing the air with her sharp hooves. They were not cloven, they were whole rounds, like those of regular horses. Her ears were flush to her skull as she came down, her brilliant dark blue gaze glaring into the Emerald green eyes of the Elf. "Get from this Forest. By the Orders of the Royal Line, you are to return to the Elven Kingdom, and speak nothing of me. Do otherwise, and you will not be allowed in the Elven Kingdom, and sent to Exile, am I clear?" Her Orders were given with sharp efficiency, and there was a tone that spoke clearly that he would do well to heed and Obey.

She spun and took off, deeper into the Forest, passing the Lycan in a rush of wind and pounding hooves.
She was the only Elven Shifter in this World. Only she could take the forms of all creatures. She and her Grand Father, that was.
Briena dropped her head and galloped faster. She hoped that that Lycan was unaware of who she was, or might even believe he had seen a mirage. If not... She was going to have a very hard time staying undetected...

~~

(King Lionel And Magran's turn, but I will have to do it tomorrow.)

Azazyl pounded hard after his target, his golden eyes set on finding this creature, whoever it may be. He burst through the trees, speeding forward, kicking up snow as he propelled forward. His ear jerked back as he heard something from behind. His head jerked and he leaped, spinning backwards as the Elf attacked him. "Treachery?!" Azazyl spewed to him, slavering jowls accompanied his words. Azazyl had about leaped to smite the traitor his his insolence, though he was saved as a Unicorn screamed past. Azazyl's fur hiked on end and he crouched low, burning golden eyes filled with annoyance as he stared at the man. His fangs bared as the Unicorn spoke to him.

She was as furious as he had been as the man assaulted him. His stance lowered and he stood slightly, though still ready to strike with fatal force if necessary. Azazyl's ears flicked as she spoke of the royal line. What in Luna's name is a Royal doing out here in these deathly lands..? Azazyl contemplated as she scolded and threatened the man. Azazyl roared at the man and snorted in brief thanks to the mythical creature who had defended him. He spun and pounded off, his form was swiftly enveloped by the mist, soon his pads would be heard fading into the distance.

Regardless of his distance, he could see them from his position, having eyes acute enough from living in these hellish nightmare filled lands. He watched her finish speaking and take her own leave, he threw his head up in a blood curdling howl, soon following the huge Lycan's song three others followed in suit. Azazyl had sung the song of death for his attacker: Find this man, if he is not gone from these lands by morrow's sunset... Eat well. Azazyl had zero tolerance for such acts. He trotted away from the scene, in pursuit of the Unicorn who had saved him. He sought to give her a true thanks, and find out which of the royals she was. He didn't now know much of the royals family. He only knew of the king and his two grand daughters- Which of these two he was determined to find out.

Azazyl's trotting turned to loping as he kept his distance, then going back to his rear positioning behind her. Could this be the culprit from the ice? Only time would tell.

He cursed as he stood there, looking towards the lycan before him as this woman had allowed him to escape and spat on the floor, frowning. As he heard her last statement a small smile came to his face as he stood there, looking towards the woman. "I could get a large sum of gold for the information you have just told me, even more so if I brang back your head," he said as he stood there, looking towards the woman, not frightened in the least by her idle threats, as she ran off he shouted after her, "However, this day I shall leave you alive, but be sure that I will seek you out again and will most likely not be alone, however, the circumstances of that meeting are entirely up to you, it shall be your choices that ultimately shall decide your fate, until then, know that I shall be keeping an eye on you.. Though he was cut off as the woman began to run away.

He laughed as he stood there and watched the lycan bound away after her, he briefly considered giving chase but decided against it, the small portion he would have received would not compare to what he would gain with this information and if he murmured it to the right people then he might gain considerably. The cocky smirk remained on his face as he stood there, after all, he had been told to clear out any potential threats in this area and had they not indeed left of their own free will?

His business was done here and thus he had decided to make his way back towards his home, many miles away from here and decided that he might come back here once more should chance allow it and would probably not come alone. Now that those over him knew that she was here he would definitely sent here once more, he reasoned, and when I do return then I might repay my debt to that woman for the death she had prevented.

His pride remained unscathed as he walked away from that place, the threat of banishment was no real threat as he was a wanderer who had learned to survive in these lands years ago and was more than capable of hunting any animals that he might need to feast upon as he made his way to somewhere else that he might stay. He disappeared into the darkness, the smirk remaining upon his face as he walked back to his superiors, leaving the lycan infested lands long behind him.

Abraxas winced slightly as the spiked belt tore into his flesh while he bounded through the disperse forest. He was a masochist of sorts and truly believed he could deprive power from pain. Using the recently inflicted pain as a sort of fuel, he started running faster towards the Calraida Kingdoms.
After a while he stopped to rest, pulling a serrated blade from the pouch he was carrying with him. Clenching his teeth his put the blade to his thigh, and with both hands pressed it down hard against his flesh. He let out a relieved sigh as he slid the knife toward him, satisfied with the sight of his blood pouring out of the newly inflicted wound. Using this as a sort of motivation he began his transformation, the spiked belt digging deeper into his waist line as he grew bigger, increasing in weight and height.

He growled slightly and once again begun to run through out the forest, intent on finding his target. The little 'wolf pack' he was with before had been killed, caught in a trap placed by he humans, he luckily had escaped using the wounds they inflicted upon his as pleasure and power. He escaped that day using only his unique 'gift' so to say. Thoughts raced through his mind as he neared the border between the Territories, and the Kingdoms.

He finally had passed over nto the Kingdoms, intent on getting revenge on the humans for killing the only firends he had ever had. His eyes misting up at the thought of them, he tightened his belt another notch and continued on his way. Vengance on his mind.

Not too far away from the borders of the human kingdom, the bustling city known as Taranea was surrounded on all sides by giant stone walls, which in turn were surrounded by many MANY acres of forest, with one side clear to allow access onto the main road for horses and chariots. These walls weren't to keep people in, mind you- goodness gracious, no- they were to keep intruders out. On each wall there was a large door, two for the wall leading to the road, perpetually guarded by large, intimidating knights armed with shields and swords that were expertly made, as any craft made by humans should be. A tall turret joined a wall to another perpendicular with it, making four turrets in all. These turrets hid highly accurate archers armed with high-powered crossbows that could shoot deadly bolts at distances up to 50 yards. If that was not enough defense, the walls were wide enough to act as walkways from one turret to the next, which other archers patrolled diligently.

But in a way, these four walls and the soldiers did keep the citizens from making trouble, or speaking too loud. In fact, you might argue that the civilians were prisoners without being prisoners. If that were the case, you wouldn't exactly be fibbing. The human king, Axelander Morixar Blacksoul (with a surprisingly convenient family name), had been corrupted by demons. It wasn't common fact, but the clues, to the sharper man, pointed to no other conclusion. There wasn't any reason why there was so much security in a city whose major profit was mainly the provision and crafting of wood. In addition, the guards had this eerie aura about them as if they were only shadows of humans. Lastly, the prices for most consumables was outrageously expensive, even for the gentry that set foot in these lands.

One crimson haired peculiarity, going by the name of Rein Infinitus Akasha, contemplated this as he was eating fish at a surprisingly large food establishment. A while ago, several of the barkeeps and food servers decided to combine their businesses to make one common eating place, and for the most part it was working. There was less competition for them, but there was more pay to be split amongst the many employees. On the other hand, this new establishment, the 'Hoag and Bode' as they called it, was now a one stop shop for all sorts of delectables, so the Hoag and Bode has never had a record of being empty (although keep in mind it's still rather new). The prices were still rather high, but with all the monstrous taxes and the sheer amount of employees, one could not blame the lords of the Hoag and Bode for making such a move.

Sitting across from Rein was another man, rather short and stout, but he emitted an air of strength that was not to be taken lightly, although it could not be compared to Rein's power. "I don't understand," the man, who is named Richard, commented quietly. "How in the name of this world are you to 'purify' the human kingdom?"

Rein put down his fish and brushed his face with a textile with the intention to clean himself. He was thankful that his longtime friend had kept his volume to a minimum. One could never know where prying ears might be. "I have yet to know," was his quiet response, "but I think I may have a clue."

This statement intrigued Richard, if his raised eyebrow was of any indication. "Oh? Then, will you please enlighten me?"

Rein glanced both to his left and right, cautious of any would-be eavesdroppers. When he was confident that everyone around him was too engaged in their own discussions or food to give notice to anything he might say, he spoke. "You know of the runaway elven princess, right?" Richard nodded. "Well, I've heard that she has healing powers. If I'm to spill no blood, she's my best bet in purifying His Malevolence."

"Remember to keep it down," Richard pressed, hushed, and for good reason. Speaking of the king in such an ill manner could cost anyone their life, regardless of who they were or what connections they had. If the king lost power over you, you were to be killed. It was that simple.

"I know, I know. Anyway, I've also heard several tales of a female elf in the cities I've been in that acts as if it were hiding from something. I think if they're all the same elf, it might be her. Of course, this is just a rough guess, but I have nothing else to go on." Rein's explanation was well spoken, even if it were muffled.

Richard probably thought along the same lines, what with his current thinking face. "Well, it's better than nothing, obviously. I haven't heard any tales of any suspicious elf here. If she is making sure she doesn't visit the same area twice, she might come around here sooner or later."

Rein nodded before standing up. "Thank you, Richard. I shall be taking a walk."

"Where to?" inquired Richard.

Rein smirked. "Well, the closest city to here is Libastre." Rein need say no more. To Richard, it should be obvious what he was talking about; if the elven girl were to be going from city to city, she would most likely choose the shortest route, and Libastre was the closest city to Taranea, and the second closest city to Taranea, Miezma, was the closest city to Libastre. The pattern was there; Miezma, then Libastre, then Taranea.

"Yeah, but that's straight across the Lycan territories..." As he spoke, he suddenly realised what Rein intended. "You can't be serious. You'll be killed."

"Don't worry, I can take on a few Lycans. Besides, I don't intend to go in there directly. If she is coming here, I will intercept her and ask for her aid. Good day to you." And with that, he walked out of the establishment.

~-~

A few minutes later, Rein was walking directly towards on the open plains right next to the highway, his destination being Libastre. He knew it was the shortest distance as the guards at the door pointed it out for him. They had no reason to care for his reasons; it was across the lands of the Lycans. They believed him to be committing suicide by choosing that route. But they didn't know who he was.

Thank goodness for that.

Briena galloped along, bounding through the snow. A growl from the side was her only warning, and she slid to a stop, just as a Lycan leapt for her. She reared up and lashed out with her hooves. The Lycan, a female, backed off and decided to hunt elsewhere; she hadn't seen the horn, and all Lycans knew better than to attack a rare creature. She vanished into the snowy mist. Briena snorted, then looked up as snow began to fall again. She looked around and then Shifted into a non- prey animal. A wolf. Her fur was white, and her eyes were, of course, blue. She now skimmed across the hard crust of the snow, bounding along, and sniffing for food.

A snowshoe hare burst out of the snow in a blur of white and she was after it ion a flash. In a few minutes, she dined swiftly on her kill. It was tiny, but would suffice for now. After her meal, she set off again, heading for the Human Kingdom. She sensed that she was still being followed, so she pushed on, her paw-prints being covered almost at once by the snow. She traveled until the next morning, then stopped, and dug into the snow, making a nice makeshift den by the base of a huge old tree. There, she rested, and fell asleep.

. . . . =~+~= . . . .


King Lionel looked at Magran Silverspell. Magran's silver eyes met his King's gray gaze, and a silver white brow furrowed. "Yes, Lionel?" His soft voice was deep, less musical than that of his light skinned kin. Recently, it had been strained, as he shared Lionel's great concern for Briena's fate and safety. Lionel looked away. "I should be out there, searching." His voice was musical, but also strained by tension. He looked at Magran. "What say you, dear friend?"

Magran looked at Lionel for a long moment, then nodded. "If you must. But I must warn you that the City and castle will be less protected if we go--" Lionel cut him off, "I am willing to risk that." Magran nodded. "I will get the horses and men..." He trailed off as Lionel strode out of the Hall. After a run of twenty strides, Magran caught up with Lionel, and the two Elven men, one Dark, one Light, made their way to the Stables. The next two hours were hurried, as Goromir, the King's mount, and Moon Dance, Magran's mare were saddled, as well a a small contingent of men. Then they were off, Lionel and Magran at the lead.

... ... ... ... ... ... ... *~*+*~* ... ... ... ... ... ... ...

Grace watched her Grandfather ride out with worried green eyes. They had gone out to seek Briena. She wanted to help. Her sister was a part of her life. Briena had raised her from the age of one after their parents had been murdered. What if she lost Briena too? Her lips pursed, and she spun around and dashed across the courtyard to the Stables. Slipping past the stable boys and soldiers, she went to Whisper Wing's stall and slid inside. She needed no saddle. Her sister had taught her well. Slipping the bridle over the small mare's head, she buckled the throat latch. That done, she waited until the stable was empty save for a few boys, and they were so deep into cleaning every inch of the saddles to a high polish that they didn't notice when she led the white mare past them.

Grace swung onto Wing's back and leaned forward. "Let us hope, Wing, that we find her." She squeezed her heels to the mare's sides and Wing bounded forward. Grace hoped her Grandfather would not be mad and understand... She couldn't lose Briena too...

..::||::..

Azazyl slid through the forest trailing this woman. His golden eyes remain intent upon her form behind as she galloped through these perilous lands without care it seemed. She knew what she was doing... He could tell. Azazyl continued on behind Briena and watched as a female of his kin threw herself at Briena. She regretting the decision almost immediately. Azazyl spoke to the female mentally. ~You must be care of what you hunt.~ He passed her as she went away from Briena. ~Some things you will regret killing.~ The female went on, not speaking back to him, but acknowledging his presence. Then she vanished into the darkness on the hunt once again for her possible pups waiting at home. Azazyl speculated as the unicorn shifted from equine to canine. A lovely white wolf, she seemed to glow, even in this absorbingly black hell. He sat and waited as she hunter for her meal and as she consumed it and proceeded. Something kept him moving, if it were any other person he would have just went home after his ordeal. He sighed inwardly as she found a place to rest for the evening and he too followed in suit for a bit of rest, well out of sight range, he curled in a great tree a great handful of meters away from her own and forced himself into a fragile sleep.




Aliath and Aleyana, the Elders of the Lycans.

Aliath gnashed his claws into the ground and crawled with all of his might towards his mate, Aleyana. "Aleyana!" He yelled for her as he reached an enormous hand-paw towards her. He gritted his teeth and stretched hard towards her, his throat let loose a pleading whine as he was dragged backwards over and over into the inevitable chaotic mass that was behind him, jerking him by the tail and hocks.

Aleyana covered one side of her muzzle and let loose a husky giggle as she watched Aliath being tortmented. She grinned widely, which soon turned to a smile and then laughter which shook her entire form. "You can do it, Aliath. I've helped you out of this too many times. It's about time you've learned." She regained her compsure and dismissed a few adolescent Lycans who were conversing her. "Now, you three run along... And stir no more trouble in the market, understood?" Her voice emphasized and lashed at them without physical contact. Typical scolding from the mother figure of the Sanctuary. The three nodded and scampered out past the distressed Aliath with a few stifled laughs and chuckles.

Aliath turned to face his assailant(s) as they charged at him for another time, Aliath was clashed and smote by a wall of vicious Lycan pups, as he always was. He fell to his back, unable to keep the straight face the puppies loved so much. They yipped, barked, gnawed, chewed, teethed, pawed and playfully mauled their temporary keeper of the day. He sumbitted and let them run rampant upon his form until they grew weary of trying to shred him to puppy playthings. After nearly two hours of resltess play and fun. He stood and shooed the young ones to thier mothers and fathers for a well deserved nap and dinner. The youngest puppies latched on to their mothers and started the suckle fest feeding thier empty bellies. The others tore into small amounts of meat and fruit. They never left anything behind, so Aliath wasn't worried about cleaning up. He retreated to his mate and sat by her with a long sigh.

Aleyana smiled widely as he did so and she clung to him, and nestled into his fur deeply, taking in his scent. She broke her trance that he placed on her and cleared her throat. "Aliath?" She spoke to him sweetly, the slur of Aleyana's voice melted into Aliath's ears. As it always did when she spoke and he looked to her. Aliath smiled down to her. "Yes, my Beauty?" He rumbled to her with his great voice. She spoke back as she had done before, the same tone and manner. "Word was recieved from the Elven Kingdom, Lionel wishes for you-" Aliath placed his pads over her muzzle and nodded, then smiled. "I know, Aleyana, I know..." He sighed again, this one more breif. "I will help him, as I always have. Though this is not the same as anything else he's ever asked for... I don't know if I will be able to help as much as he'd like." The Huge Lycaness nodded and nudged her mate towards their Rune-Imprinted doorway. He gave a gruff noise and stared at her. "After what I've been through today?" His look, granted with incredulity accompanied the words. Aleyana gave a slow whine and another nudge. Aliath... As always, caved and stood. Then began padding for the doorway. Aleyana jumped up and padded after him gleefully. When he reached the door he opened it for her and she shot inside, her hand reached out and jerked him in and then their door rolled shut for the night.





All in the Lycan Kingdom was well for this night. Tomorrow? Another story.

The moon was high when arrived at the nearby city of Arrisont, stars streaked the sky along with occasional clouds that seemed to occasionally pass over the moon. Though Arrisont was hardly worth calling a city as it seemed rather small. However, it was too large by far to be a town or a village and thus it had come to be known as a city. The city walls loomed over him and there was a large amount of guards and such sitting within the cities gates he knew. This was a popular area for acts of murder and theft. However, this was also perhaps one of the best places one might get information, if one had the right amount of money or the right reputation that is.

A large 7ft tall gate stood as the only entrance and exit to this place (that was actually known to the guard) and along the sides sat a pair of towers, no doubt filled with a great many archers and all no doubt, had their bows pointed towards him. He smiled as he heard the all too familiar voice behind the gate. "What business do you have here?" the voice asked as Dryear stood outside the gates, sword resting easily by his side but hand always clenched around it, he never knew when he might encounter trouble.

"My name is Dryear Lylth, I have come seeking information and granting it to those who wish to know it," he said and stopped before remembering a final detail and adding on, "And I wish to collect a reward for a task that was set before me, any more than that is not your concern and you would be stupid to try and pry answers from me."

He looked about as he stood there, not feeling as exposed as those who would have traveled through these gates only a few times as this was generally not a place that any normal person wished to come back to. Despite that, this was one of his favorite places as cities like this often offered people large sums of money for tasks that he seemed to specialize in. This was only one of hundreds of jobs, almost all of which were successful and though this one was not, the reward he would gain for the information he had gathered would grant him more than enough to compensate.

"You may pass," the voice responded after a seemingly rather long period of time and the gates opened to let him in. He smiled and gave the man a small sack full of coins, copper, silver and gold and proceeded on his way through the city. Almost everybody here who had either been here before or had heard of this place carried a weapon of some sort and thus it was not unusual to see a man wondering around the street with his hand tightened around the hilt.

His reputation was known by all however and he occasionally heard murmurs and whispers concerning his arrival, even occasionally greeted by strange or respectful looks. He simply smiled at the fact that his reputation. Yes, places like this were where he belonged he believed. Where nobody might bother him with trivial matters. The watch either dismissed crimes as just yet another regular event or were bribed out of remembering them and that was where somebody like him came in as the watch may have forgotten but the victims of such crimes certainly didn't and they would pay quite a lot of coin to see most of them dead.

He made his way to the tavern and entered it, looking about for his last 'employer' and when he couldn't find him, he moved towards the bar counter, a ginger old man stood there, foul in mood and demeanor and his stance and face showed it clearly. When Dryear approached a smirk came onto his face as, even though the elf was often payed much for his services, he payed a large portion of that for information and drink, both of which areas where, an observant bartender could easily lend a hand. He looked at Dryear for a moment before asking, "What can I do yer for?"

"I'm looking for this man," he said, holding up a picture(I take no credit for this picture, I just thought it looked like what I was looking for and thus put it up as I can't draw) a look of recognition crossed his face as he stood there, however, he quickly returned to being as stoic as possible about the whole encounter lest he give the man information that he has yet to pay for.

"Maybe I have heard of him, maybe I haven't," he said as he stood there, playing the common game which was often done when somebody wished for information. At that moment, Dryear felt the urge to run this man through but decided that it would be easier to just sit there and play the game. After a long moment he sighed and payed the man a small bag of coins.

"Will this do?" he asked as he sat there, only just managing to keep the deep anger within him and his urges at bay. However, it showed clearly by the way he sat and by the burning flame in his eyes. The man who was to be giving him the information was about to continue on with his game, but then had the intelligence to stop himself as he realized that such an action would most likely cost him a limb or quite possibly more than that. He quickly put the coins away before responding, "He's dead, murdered this mourning by a young man."

Dryear, despite his common calm appearance began to visibly shake as he sat there, in anger and in grief. This man had been his best employer and probably the closest thing he had to a friend since the day he left his family to seek out his future as a freelance(An assassin is generally a better term but he does both so :P). He grabbed the man and lifted him off his feat, despite his small stature he was surprisingly strong. "This had better be the truth or else I will hunt you and your family down and kill them off one by one," he snarled and then, noticing that the man showed no signs of lying he put the man down, "Which way did he go?"

The man had just about to play the game once more but then Dryear cut him off and pressed his sword to the mans throat so hard that it had began to cut without even moving. From this position with only the tiniest of movements he could kill the man and the man realized that from the moment the sword came into place. "Which way," he growled, his anger almost overcoming him and his voice showed it all too clearly. The man pointed towards the door and Dryear ran out of it and onto the streets, searching for the man who had killed perhaps one of his only friends.

This was one of the reasons why he didn't allow himself the pleasures of company as ultimately he knew that it could be used against him. This one mistake could cost him much, maybe even his life ultimately but he had let the man in and thus would avenge his death.

Arriving at the Kindgoms finally, Abraxas slows down slightly. He bounds quietly and carefully through the last of the forest he was traveling to cross the border between the two. Leaving the last of the forest, he quickly changed to his human form, his belt loosening. He grabbed the belt and tightened it a notch tighter then it was when he had wore it, when he was last human. Setting down the pouch he had, he opened it and took some clothes from it. Sliding on the over sized long sleeved shirt, then his baggy pants, he wore baggy clothes to cover up all the wound he ever inflicted on his self. He was open with his ritual but he didn't want people always asking questions about his scars.

Walking towards the nearest populated city, which would be Arrisont, Abraxas began to plot out how he would get revenge on the lowly scum bags of humans that had killed his disperse pack. He was thinking about perhaps some form of torture when a name came to him randomly. Dryear Lylth. it was a name he was given to seek when he arrived at the Kingdoms. He was told that, that person who's name it belonged to, would be able to give Abraxas information.

Thinking about what he would do to his informant if he were, in fact misinformed, he looked up to see the city of Arrisont. Judging he was about a good three miles or so out, he decided to set up camp and rest to the next day before seeking out the man who's name he was given. Pulling some dehydrated food from his pouch, he sat there and ate it slowly, missing the taste of an actual meal. He then proceeded to take out his knife, and preform his nightly ritual. Fresh blood mixing in with the soft soil beneath him, Abraxas laid out a acceptable bed, and attempted to sleep, hoping his insomnia didn't get the better of him.

After many hours of walking, as the moon was at its highest point in the star-filled sky, Rein Infinitus Akasha finally arrived at the borders of the Lycan Kingdom, which lay at the bottom of the steep mountain he stood near the bottom of. Many moons ago, when his (reasonably recent) ancestors walked the land of Calraida, a wide line had been drawn to divide the kingdom of the Humans from that of the Lycans. Its origins had been lost in history, but legends say that the line was drawn by a Lycan carrying an entire tree as if a child may carry a twig. Using the light of the moon and stars, Rein read the map he pulled out of his pocket. After a brief analysis, he could not withhold a groan. The path he had chosen to tread occupied more Lycan territory than he had anticipated. If one were to walk alongside the border to Libastre, it would take an entire day, but to walk through the Lycan territory, Rein made a rough estimate that it would use up the better of two thirds of a day without rest.

At this moment, he yawned, a sign that fatigue was setting in. Rein, despite having more power and ability than the normal human's potential allows, was not immortal. He quickly scanned the mountain base and found a space where a shadow seemed to sneak into the mountain, the light running with it in parallel. It was the entrance of a cave.

"There we go," Rein said quietly while smiling, but he was careful enough to make sure no one was watching him before he walked in. He lifted the bag off of his back and laid it on the rocky ground once he walked in far enough for no one to see him by virtue of glancing in. He pulled out a rug and rolled it out to use as an improvised bed. He then proceeded to remove his beige cloak from his body to use it as a blanket before lying on his resting place, covering himself with his cloak. He had no need for a fire; his body was perpetually warm. But even so, even he couldn't escape his hunger pangs. Rein didn't worry, for he would hunt in the morning.

Briena arose around morning. One could hardly call it light, as in Lycan Territory, and as deep as she was into the lands, light just did not seem to reach into this dark and dreary land of snow and ice. She sat up and looked around, blue eyes blinking the sleep away. Then she took off at a silent pad. It had frozen overnight, and the snow had a nice thick crust to carry her weight. She was headed back the way she had come. She paused. The snow had frozen well. Her tracks from earlier still showed clear. Her paws made no new ones, but she saw other prints. Huge, and definitely Lycan. She looked around, then slipped away, following the trail, sniffing occasionally to check how fresh the trail really was. The scent told her the Lycan that had been following her was male, and the scent was a little familiar. And...In some strange way, she rather liked it. An ear flattened. She liked the male's scent? For a moment, she thought about abandoning the scent trail and veering off.

Reaching the point where the trail ended, she ranged around the base of the tree, then looked up, ears pricked. It was the male she had rescued the day before. An ear flattened, and she spun and bounded in near silence the way she had come. The strong, fresh trail would likely tell the Lycan that she knew he was following her, but she couldn't help that. Reaching her night camp, she shook herself, then set off at a meandering pace and path. This time, she wore colors to blend with the dark and muted white scape. But a part of her wanted to stay. Let the male catch up-- No... She shook herself hard and quickened her pace to a flat out run. Best not to think of such things.

Still...

She traveled for most of the day, pausing to look over her back at her trail. Every now and then, she ran a big, playful circle, leaving her scent for the Male to find, before she'd catch herself again and trot back into line, still going the same way. If he followed her scent to the tee, he'd be going in a big circle, only to end up a few feet further,and facing the same direction as before.

She padded on and on, keeping an easy, quick trot. The minimal light of day slowly began to darken back to the fathomless, abyssal black. Still, she kept going. Then the black deepened, in a circular, hole like manner. It was a cave, uninhabited. She could smell that no one had been living there for a month or two. She sniffed her way around the entrance, the peered inside. Not much to see but darkness of course. She slipped inside, sniffing curiously, then found the back of the cave. No one was there. No one but her. Good enough.

She flopped down at the back of the cave and gave a long, wide yawn. Even in the deeper dark of the cave, she was a spot of white. She lowered her head to her paws, let her eyes fall closed, then fell into sleep. The faint Lycan scent that still lingered at the edges... For some reason, it never made her uneasy. She liked it.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grace rode in silence, green eyes searching. She had reached Lycan Territory at last. Now, she halted Whisper and stared into the sudden muted colors that edged the emerald green of the Elven Lands. She had reached a point where the no man's land between the Lycan and Elven Territories was a mere foot wide. Whisper pawed the ground anxiously, not very keen on entering such a forbidding place. Grace nudged the mare's sides softly, and reluctantly Whisper started forward, crossed the foot of land that separated Borders, and entered the forest. Grace's wings fluttered with faint relief. Nothing had attacked... Yet. She reached down and rubbed Whisper's neck. The horse nickered softly, ears flicking back to listen to Grace's soft whisper. "I know she's in this Forest, Whisper. I can feel it."

Whisper tossed her head, agreeing, but anyone could see that she really did not want to be in this place. But for Grace, she would do anything. Even if-- What was that? She braced her legs and came to an abrupt halt. Something had moved not far ahead. Grace stared between Whisper's pricked ears. "Whisper... What is that?"

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Lionel reined in Goromir and looked at Magran. They were on one of the rare roads in Lycan Territory. It led to Archenraih, the Lycan City. Goromir swished his tail, eyes rolling. He and the other horses were not at all pleased to be in these lands. Magran spoke. "Push on? Or camp?" Lionel debated, thumb stroking the leather of the reins. "Push on. I must speak with Aliath. And perhaps Aleyana--" Here he shuddered... Aleyana was more than a little scary. But she could be what would bring Briena home. The Female Elder's womanly Wisdom was well known and respected. "Perhaps Aleyana can talk sense to Briena-- What are you doing here, Samias?"

The jolly young man had just ridden up on a winded gray horse. Instead of the jovial cheer his face and eyes usually held, there was panic. "It's... Grace... Your Highness..." His words came in breathless pants, and Lionel felt his stomach flip over. "Go on..." His voice held a tone that told Samias to get to the point. Samias gulped for air. "Sh-She's left! Whisper Wing is gone! I think she went out to look for Briena. I followed her tracks. You won't like this... They were in a straight line for Lycan Territory." Lionel felt his head go light. Magran's hand grasped his shoulder. "Lionel, you know the Lycans wouldn't dare attack Grace. That would start a war between the Lycan and Elven Kingdoms, and neither Kingdom wants it. They won't hurt her. I'm sure."

Lionel tried to take heart in his friend's words, but something told him that his friend may be wrong for once. "We must get to Aliath. Move out!" He slapped the reins against Goromir's neck and the great Shire stallion took off at a gallop down the road. The rest of the horses followed, not eager to be left behind in this place...

testing quickly Yeah, activity still works, despite the ban :)

((Well, posting for Ayo. I may have to make this a two to three Paragrapher, as I am not comfortable playing his characters.))

Azazyl's ears twitched faintly as he slowly became aware of sniffing. At the base of the tree. One golden eye cracked, and he peered down at the base. The sniffer was leaving. Her form was familiar. It was her. He waited until she was well ahead, then dropped to the ground, and slid along after her. Upon reaching the place where she'd slept, he took a deeper sniff, then enjoyed it for a moment, before following the fresh trail. He followed the trail easily, and when the first large circle began, he smirked, then kept on straight ahead.

After a while, he began to realize that she was headed straight for one of his old haunts. His ears pricked, and he upped his pace. A few hours later, and he finally came to the end of her trail. And his cave. Her grinned, feeling smugly pleased. Now he'd have a chance to thank her, when she awakened. He stretched, and peered into her cave. Yes, she was there, the white fur easy to make out, especially for him. He smirked, then sat down at the entrance, looking around. After a while of looking, he pulled out a small bit of wood and began whittling at it with his claws. Now and then, he glanced into the cave, waiting for her to wake up.

(Gack, Shortness)

The dank under-city of Tyrannus stank of corpses and sewage. The people never went down there though, why should they? Huge caverns sprawled deep into the ground. In the darkness though, there was life. Huge Anthropomorphic rats had come to live in the dank caverns. One such in particular, Krysa Musor, sat silently with his gaurd partner as they listened to the humans above speaking. They spoke of the king, infestations, hunting beasts, and things of that manner.

Another troop of Araurious arrived and told Krysa and the others to head back to the village. A few large black rats scampered along the slick path back down to the village. One of the rats tapped Krysa on the shoulder, "Do you think the humans will ever find us?" He asked, looking up at a lard stalactite. Krysa slid down a ramp and then turned about to face his soldier, "If they do, we will prove ourselves a force to be reckoned with, but that is only in theory." He added, turning back around. A large perilous trek down a rock face was enough, but due to the past rains the under city was wet, and smelled even worse than usual. Of in the distance Krysa saw a body being slid into the sewers by some murderers. He hated human bodies, they looked so disgusting. Upon arriving to the village they brought back the new from the human city. Not much concerning them, but a few people went missing down here. The shaman knew this though, as those poor souls had wandered into their territory not but sleep ago.

The humans didn't often come down this deep into the sewers, but when they did the Araurious dealt with them in a most severe manner. The humans above had begun to leave for their sleeping time. Occasionally the foragers would rise up out of their sewer hatches and look for food and people. They would drag the people, or take the food, down into the caves and butcher it or cook it for the Clan. They still had meat from a previous scavenge so the foragers remained in the sewers this night to hunt in the caves. Krysa returned to his tent for the night, and examined the blade he had found om his morning route. It was very well crafted, and was still covered in ornate designs. He had concluded that it was some noble's blade and that he had been robbed and the thieves had fallen into the sewers and to their deaths. He would keep it for now, but as the Shaman said, "Everything must one day return to the surface."

Rein Infinitus Akasha, envoy of the dragons, arose to the morning sun once more. The sunlight creeped into the cave and gave the warrior a clear indication of where the exit is. Smiling, he stood up and packed up his belongings and walked out of the cave, spear in hand. He looked at his map again. What was he doing again? Damn it, it felt like it had been a long time.

He suddenly remembered. He was heading to Libastre to cut off Briena Erani Skysong and ask for her assistance to heal the Human Kingdom! With conviction renewed, he progressed, making sure to keep clear of the Lycan Kingdom borders.

The harsh winds of the land rushled through Rayne's black cloak hitting her skin like whips as she shivered pulling the thin material back around her bare arms.
The little clothing she had managed to steal were mens peasentry beige tattered trousers and an poor excuse for a sleeveless top the same colour. If not for the black cloak she wore the brightness of the beige would surely standout against the darkness the overshadowing trees of the forest she trecked in provided.

Rayne couldn't compain however, compared to her attire before what she wore now was a vast improvement, though she still didn't wear shoes since she couldn't find any her size.

Her breath was raspy as the air around was gradually growing cold, Rayne didn't know the atmosphere seemed to be changing, she had no clue where she was just that one thing ran across her mind. If it killed her she would never go back to the human kingdom, she would not be sold to Axelander Morixar Blacksoul nor that wretched son of his. Hearing his cruelty to shifters like her was enough to scare her away into escaping from the conifines of her life in human slavery despite that being all she has ever known.

However, she did feel fear now, at a loss at where to turn, she knew of the three kingdoms, but not of what they were like or its people. She had no knowledge of this lands terrain or direction, only that the further she walked forward at the pace she was the further she moved away from the human kingdom. It was no doubt that humans would be chasing her, the blood from her bare feet catching the forest floor must have left a trail so she couldn't afford to rest her movement.

Upahead if she squinted hard Rayne could have sworn she saw white flakes fall from the sky, but she must be mistaken, her body was exhausted and so was her mind.

(Accidental secondary post X,x)

Briena slept well, despite the odd scraping noise that made her ears twitch now and then, incorporating themselves into her dreams. What light that could sift through the darkness when morning came didn't reach the back of the cave where she was sleeping, but her head raised, and she cracked a large yawn, and looked around with fast clearing bleary blue eyes. That Lycan scent was very strong. It was like the owner was right nearby... Her ears jumped as she caught sight of a great furry figure sitting in the mouth of the cave, and the flash of golden eyes as the figure peered in at her for a moment, then looked back to what he( for that figure was definitely male in every way.) was whittling at in his talon-tipped hybrid paw-hands.

Briena bristled in alarm and pressed herself hard against the back of the cave, eyes narrowed. She didn't keep her eyes on him though, as she glanced at what open space was left at the mouth. Maybe enough to dart around him? No. A waft of his scent blew toward her, and she found the fur on her back laying flat in spite of herself. Some of the fight went out of her eyes, and she stopped pressing herself against the cave. It was that Male. He'd followed her all the way. She stared at the black and silver male for a moment, then spoke. "Why are you following me?" Right to the heart of the matter, really.




Arghoram peered around, green eyes squinted against the harsh wind rushing through the oak forest. Pulling his thick cloak tighter around his shoulders, he moved on, eyes returning to the trail of bloody foot prints he'd run across. He'd told his band to move on back to the lair, while he followed the trail, which seemed to be heading in a wobbly line toward the Lycan Territory. He winced as his father's invisible fists struck at him from within, but kept on. He was learning to ignore the blows. His black hair whipped around him, combed into strings by the hard gush of wind. Glancing up, he saw that the clouds were getting thicker, the farther he went, and still, the trail led straight for Lycan Territory.

As he reached the beginning of the no man area, where the snow began, he groaned slightly as the bloody trail kept going. Now that the snow was there, he could make out that the owner was female, possibly human or Elven, though he couldn't imagine why an Elf would be this far from Elven Kingdom. A spy, maybe. But the bare feet made him doubt that. No smart, unhurried Elf would dare to go into the Lycan Territory with their feet unprotected. Human then. He kept on, picking up the pace. He highly doubted that the owner of the feet would be alive at the end of the trail, suspected definitely that she was a pile of bloody remains and gore in the snow, a meal for a hungry Lycan, and possibly pups.

He flipped the hood of her cloak over his head as snow began to fall. He was close; the snow wasn't clinging to the color in the tracks, instead melting. He sped up, and in a few more minutes, he caught up. The woman was a wretched sight indeed, and the good in him strengthened with the pang of sympathy he felt. She looked ready to collapse. But she seemed to be determined to push on, or kill herself trying. He took a few large strides and came abreast of her, reaching out and putting a hand on her shoulder. "Are you mad, woman? You'll catch your death out here, or Death will catch you in it's claws and belly!" He had to raise his voice to be sure that she would hear him over the roaring wind. He pulled lightly on her shoulder. She felt cold as the snow itself. "Why is a woman like you out in the dangers of Lycan Territory? Don't you know what lives in these forests?" The question was gentle, but hurried. He wanted to get out of there, and he would drag her if she refused, though she didn't feel like she was going to put up a fight.