Snippet #1451840

Laeral, Boulon Brother's Inn

It was late in the night as Illeyssa and her band entered the town, the Worgs moving closer as they passed the simple made streets lined with simple made houses. Few windows still had light glowing from them as most were dark while their owners slept. The Inn still seemed active, though not as much as when twilight flooded the sky with its pastel reflections. Brack halted at the door, right hand planted on it as the side of his war hammer remained in his grasp. Shoulder dead still he paused as the four Worgs formed up behind him before pushing the door open to the smells of pis poor ale and sad excuses for a warm meal. The younger brother was through the door, closely trailed by the Worgs, the few heads that rose to see the new strangers stopping in their food, drink and talk at the sight of the beasts. Then she stepped in, closely trailed by Silvya and Dormund and finally Gormun who let the door swing behind him. The entry way seemed small and crowded and everyone who looked remained silence, their eyes clearly showing their discomfort.

The first reason was such a large group of Orcs was seldom seen so far from their remaining tribes, save the sparse few who went off to work as mercenaries or guards for whatever crummy pay was offered. Three broad and strong standing males and two females, with ornately braided locks of hair signaling the right of Shawomen. The second discomfort came from the Worgs, tall beasts larger than any wolf and those dark red eyes, head swiveling side to side and watching the patrons with cold eyes. Yet the first two reasons seemed small in ways of the last one that seemed to have struck the room dumb. Standing without care or fear of her appearance, the only thing Illeyssa proudly wore was the intricate tattoos that covered and circled her body, tracing along her stomach and chest, arms and back depicting the radiance of the Angels giving their powerful gift to the Orcs.

Her three guards moved off a bit, the Worgs moving to follow their master as Illeyssa calmly approached the bartender leaning over with a casual move, eyes matching his and locking them in place so they did not tray, her look commanding his eyes to remain on hers. "I am looking for a room."

"I..." His unease budded in his throat and he cleared it a bit hastily before looking the other way. "Sorry, we have no rooms left... The Legion has them all. But if you were to stay..."

He stopped talking as she lifted a hand, "The legion is here too? Then i understand the lack of space, if it is not of too much trouble, could I stay in this room for at least a few hours to rest. The journey is long after all."

The Inn keeper shifted a bit, raising a hand to rub his neck and stopped, "Er.. I guess I could. I mean it would be of no trouble if you were to..."

It was at this point he found himself talking to open space, Illeyssa moving off without response as Silvyar drew close again and the pair moved to an open table near the back. She watched her apprentice carefully as the girl leaned close, "Shawoman I-"

"Here will be fine. Now... Listen closely Silvyar so I don't have to repeat myself again. This is what I saw..." Illeyssa bent close and whispered in her apprentice's ear.

---

Laeral, South Road

"Alright soldiers! Form up!" The words were loud and clear in the early morning. The legion forces were lined up in a somewhat orderly fashion though it didn't take a soldier to see it wasn't a well trained group. Illeyssa rested near one of the houses, arms crossed and golden eyes watching them carefully. That boy looked so much like a man she remembered back in Gia. The name eluded her though and she didn't press further into old memories for it. Silvyar shuddered beside her, body not yet used to the cold mornings and nights in her apprentice robes, the faint trails of silver marking the beginnings of her tattoos. The pair watched the forces getting ready in the calm hours, aware that, while only Brack could be seen leaning against a house off to their right, Dormund and Gormun were watching from somewhere close and unseen. Resting beside the Shawoman was the same Worg that approached her last night, and now it stood alert, eyes watching the soldiers as well as her fingers wrapped in its fur.

The night was forgotten, her foretelling told to her apprentice, and the girl left to her own mind to think of what it truly meant. A test to see how strong her gift may be. Yet even as her own head formed the answers she had gained, she grew worried at the news and sight of the Legion of Ashes being here, in this remote little town. Could her foresight come sooner than she expected once again? The thought chilled her spine more than the clinging air on her skin. The sight of her nightmare at the end of her walk worried her more than when that dream began to reoccur almost every other night. Something was changing in Norr... And the last time she couldn't read it in time it devastated her people.