Snippet #2400508

"A most wondrous set of titles you have there," Lady Samsara said. She was amused by the tiny creature. "I don't suppose that whoever is in charge here is allowing more to accompany him or her? It seems you are all gathering for a hunt. I do love a good hunt," Lady Samsara said to Glixenheimer with an adventerous smile on her face.

"Tugark and I have to travel in order to find an item that he has misplaced," Lady Samsara explained to the gnome. "One of your number seems to know the exact location but she refuses to inform us." The woman cast a glance over to Curtana. Her blue eyes gave the elf-girl an accusing look. The half elf returned the look with a glare of her own, but bit her tongue. Jarlas was still being an awesome bodyguard, not doing much else but guarding Curtana's body. The Lady turned back to look down at Glixenheimer.

"So it would be a pleasure of ours if we were allowed to accompany you all," the woman in the red hat proprosed. Her keen eyes scanned to where Dejah had been standing but found the woman gone.

Glixenheimer wore a pleased grin on his face at the compliment, bowing in a courteous fashion. "Thank you most kindliriously. While I do not speak for the Warparty, I dare say our need would quite accomidatiate you!" He beams up at the two of them, looking back and forth.

"You are most welcome," Lady Samsara said with a generous smile as she leaned down and patted Glixenheimer on the head. He actually frowns slightly at this, as that was something most tall folk had a tendency to do to him.

Selwen was experiencing the brunt of the pain, but also something more; something from her body's natural reaction to blocking out some of it, keeping it from spreading through her entire body. Normally, she would remain silent, grit her teeth against the pain, but this was something new, unexpected. The Light itself bore a pain. She screams weakly, almost a wail of dismay, before she manages to cut herself short. She had unconciously begun to struggle against Dhaelhel's hold, pushing to escape.

Dejah had pushed through the crowd around Selwen. She was the one that had found the wounded knight after all. Dejah felt responsible for her health. A pain expression came over her face as she looked down at Selwen. Gently Selwen's hair was pushed back from her face as Dejah said a few foreign words to her in a soft voice. She looked across at the blind woman who had healed Selwen. Molko seemed a bit surprised that she was speaking a non-common dialect, more-so that it was one he actually understood. He was wary, because though she did not look like nor act like an enemy, she used the tongue of the Drow. Former enemy, he had to remind himself. He sets aside his reservations to continue awareness for Selwen's well being.

Maree was breathing hard and her hands shook. Healing was a powerful magic but it drained the wielder significantly. The elven woman attempted to stand but collapsed back down onto her knees. Her head swam and exhaustion overcame Maree. Beads of sweat ran down her temples as her hand sought out Al'Kaera's aid. He was there in an instant, supporting her as soon as she seemed that she needed aid, and it would not disrupt her healing. He holds her closely, looking upon Selwen with the studied eye of a healer; for, while Al'Kaera did not posess anything near Maree's skill, especially not anymore, he had once commanded the power to mend wounds and heal ailments as well.

The wounded Knight opens her eyes, looking at those gathered; she did not see malice, only worry and care, and... Care. She closes her eyes, allowing a sole tear, as she engages in a brief conversation deep within her mind. Dejah took out a white cloth from inside her sleeve and wiped away the tear that fell from her eye. It broke Maree's healing circuit, but it was not unfortunate timing. Selwen had been healed though Maree did not have the strength to urge her body to create more blood. The knight was still going to be weakened by her loss of fluids despite all her injuries having been mended. Selwen's eyes snap open when Dejah gently stroked the tear off of her face, and train on the woman. She was still too far gone to say anything, but she was aware of who the true feelings of care were coming from, at least.

Anaree watched out of the corner of her eye. Her heart sank again into the pit of her belly. The girl's hand dropped from Nel and she stood with the chicken in her arms. She handed the bird off gently to Nachytsm, still unwilling to meet his eyes.
For his part, the man blinks in relative confusion; after the battle he had to fight to get Nel back last time, he had expected much the same. Even stranger, Nel seemed keen on getting back to Anaree. It was all very suspicious.

"How long has she been like this," Anaree asked Nacytsm. She looked over to the group hovering over Selwen. Nachytsm, too, looks over. With a mild grunt, he shrugs. "Dunno," he replies honestly. He hadn't been paying her much attention. "Not long," he adds as speculation.

Anaree sighed. It seemed that Nachytsm was the same as he was in her time period. It didn't help her situation at all. Gathering all her bravery, Anaree looked up at Nachytsm and made eye contact with him. For just a split second it almost seemed that the girl's eyes turned a shade darker, but perhaps it was just a trick of the light. It was always difficult to restrain herself around Nachytsm, even when her father had been so adamant about controlling her shifting eyes.

"You have a feather," Anaree said before she lifted a hand and plucked the loose feather from his armor. Just the bare tip of her finger touched Nachytsm's marred flesh. A tingle ran down her arm and goosebumps rose up on her skin. Anaree's back went ramrod straight and she quickly adverted her eyes. She stared at the ground and then closed her eyes. There was no way she could hide the fact that her irises had changed into a midnight blue. The feeling had been too strong. Nachytsm blinks down at her in confusion. She was acting strange.

"I should go hunt, or be helpful in some way," Anaree mumbled before she walked away. However, she forgot to open her eyes and walked straight into Nachytsm. Anaree squealed in the back of her throat with her mouth closed. She pushed at his chest and fell back onto her rump. The girl still refused to open her eyes since her heart was pounding away a million beats per minute inside her chest. Using a familiar tactic of Jarlas's, she just remained there on the ground with her fists clenched at her sides.

Nachytsm stares down at her for a few moments before he furrows his brow. Strange, indeed. Stooping down, he drops Nel to the ground and lifts Anaree up, cradling her slightly, if it was possible to cradle a stiff wooden board. "No," he replies with a deep rumble. "Stay in camp. May leave soon." He then sets her back on the ground, stooping to look at her face. Anaree slowly opened one eye and then the other. The coloration of them were normal. It took a great effort of her will power to keep them their normal bright blue.
"Stop staring at me," Anaree said before she scooped up Nel. She headed towards the remains of everyone's meals. It seemed that breakfast was finished. Someone had to help Molko, and Anaree didn't mind volunteering herself one bit especially with Nel to keep her company. Nachytsm squints at her as she walks away, though says nothing more as he stands and picks at the area in his armor where Nel and her feather were missing.

Tugark sighed a low grumbling sigh. "M'lady, I am wasting time here.. I need my things back before the final battle with the darkness, and the darkness is gathering faster than one might imagine.." He whined in his booming voice. Curtana bit the inside of her lip. "If you two only knew the legend that followed him.." She muttered under her breath. His blue eyes shifted over to Nachytsm and slowly he wandered over to the strange man. Of course, he would just leave Lady Samsara where she wished to be for the time, but he had to at least get familiar with others. He would merely stand there, muttering and whining in his ancient tongue. Eventually noticing the creature, Nachytsm turns around and stares at him, his dark eyes dull with a distinct lack of familiarity. He simply stares back, having no idea what the beast was saying, and so tries to communicate with a similar series of grunts and growls.

Tugark tilted his fluffy head to the side and stared at Nachytsm. Oh how he wished he could speak normally. Well, normal to the people of this current age. He could understand the language, thanks to Lady Samsara, but speaking it was always a challenge for the beast. Clearing his throat, which sounded very much like a cat trying to cough up a hairball only in deeper tones, he would attempt to communicate in their fashion. "Ayerm..narrmed..Tugarrrrk.." He spoke slowly, trying his best to pronounce the words the best he could, but with his limited tongue, the words sounded much like growls and grunts. To most, this would be a pitiful attempt at speech. To Nachytsm, however, in some strange, feral way, it was practically like speaking to a native. "Nachytsm," he replies gruffly. He'd gathered, somehow, that the beast was named Tugarrk. Tugark gave a wide grin, which for most would be quite eerie with the teeth he showed. He did not speak again, however, finding the speech too cumbersome to try to continue without Lady Samsara to translate.

Dhaelhel had taken Selwen into his arms again to carry her off for rest. Dejah was standing right beside him and taking care to dodge his massive feathery wings. A worried look was plastered onto Dejah's face. She monitered every movement Dhaelhel made and every change in Selwen's face.

"She'll be fine. Lumariale is good at what she does," the winged-man said down to Dejah. She frowned up at him. The woman didn't understand a word he had said. Seeing her look of uncertainty, Molko helpfully translates, probably much to her surprise; "She'll be fine," he says. The fluid language was much easier for the Dwarf to pronounce, but there was still the obvious inflection. Dejah's eyes widened in surprise when Molko spoke in her language. She had not expected him to know it. Most, after all, did not.

The Ranger looked between Molko and Selwen, nervously. "She will be fine?" she asked in a very quiet voice. "I wish to stay with her," Dejah stated, though the manner is which she spoke it was as if she was asking for permission. The ranger waited for Molko's answer. "That's fine, I am sure," Molko replies with a slight nod. He gave her a quizical look all the same. Dhaelhel looked at both Molko and Dejah, perplexed. He was a god but he did not understand a single word they were saying to each other. Selwen, too, was gazing back and forth between the two. She did not understand them, so instead she looks towards Maree, Al'Kaera, and Dhaelhel, with her focus on the Elvish man. "Thank you, M'lord," she says, her voice soft and silky, despite the pain. "Thy assistance is assuredly appreciated.."

"Where can I take her to rest," Dhaelhel interrupted. He cast a glance at Curtana and sighed. Lady Samsara had caught the glance and arched her brow high as was her habit. Al'Kaera interjects, gesturing to his lodgings. "Take her in there, you'll find ample room."

"That devilishly good looking man with the wings is staring at you, young lady," the woman said. Lady Samsara fanned herself with her hand. Curtana scowled at the woman. What did she know? It was awkward enough to wake up with that 'devilishly good looking man' on top of you, but it was even more so to know that the 'man' had been 'woman' yesterday. She rounded on Lady Samsara.

"Yes yes, I know!" She said more harshly than she intended, making Lady Samsara's eyebrows raise a level higher. "He keeps giving me this puppy dog look, and well..! That's what he gets for tricking someone like that." She pouted, folding her arms over her chest with a 'harumph'. Truly, Curtana was not that angry, but she was getting annoyed with everyone seeming to point signs that Dhaelhel had a crush on her. It did not help that she blushed every time his name was mentioned.

Finally, between irritation and her need to change the subject, she would try to 'bop' Jarlas on the back of the head. Of course, it was all likely that the man would not feel it, but she still thought he was mocking her. "Oi!" She cried. "Stop that!" Jarlas blinks, turning his head slightly to look at her. "Stop what," he asks, smiling in a sweet fashion. That only annoyed her more so, and with a growl, she stormed away from the group altogether. She wouldn't leave completely, just needed to air her head out. The man lets his disposition flatten somewhat as he watches her go, feeling compelled to follow. So compelled, he actually does so, trotting slightly to keep up with her. "'Ey," he says, mildly. Curtana did not even turn around. "Just leave me alone." She muttered sharply. "A'right, A'right," he replies, holding his hands up defensively even as he continues to follow her. "Just... y'know, I uh... Sorry," he mutters, before turning away. Not having blood sucked.

That took the wind out of her sails, even if it only fueled her irritation. It seemed that even if there was no reason to be angry, it only made her mad just the same. Curtana turned slightly, only to glance at Jarlas for a second. "I'm sorry too.. I just gotta clear my head.. One day I'm all alone in the world, the next I have a camp the size of a small hunting party sleeping in my home.." She muttered. "Just don't know what to think about that yet.." And with that, she continued to walk just outside of camp, finding a stump to sit on alone to clear her head.

After having watched Curtana walk away with Jarlas in stow, Dhaelhel nodded to Al'Kaera. He took the woman in his arms inside the building with Dejah following his every step.