Snippet #958975

Meditation and preparation was complete. As the moon rose high on the plains a few steady fires still burned as the camp slept, preparing for the great attack on the Akaldai Pass in the morning. Sitting on a clearing of matted grass and earth sat a lone figure, body a dark outline to the fire as face was turned up towards the sky. A shooting star streaked high above and vanished from sight once more as hands clapped softly together and were brought up to a face, parting so fingers danced over skin before moving back to clap once more. A pure magic filtered into the body, a soft touch of what could only be described as angelic magic, washing through veins and over skin with clarity and warmth. The spell being cast was the purest form of this magic and, even as it was invoked, the fires seemed to flicker brighter for a moment before it passed. Though the one who invoked it now entered a trance-like state.

The world spun and was dark, blanketing the visible plain as far as the caster could see. Walking in this blackness was strange, yet so familiar from all the other times. This wasn't simply scrying, or viewing into the present. This was foretelling... a fractured prediction of what was to come and what might be. In the blackness sparked a gray that swallowed everything, ferrying the caster far away and into the distant future as its being now floated in the sky. Gender, gravity and all other rules meant nothing here, and from the pedestal it hung from it gazed down on the pass as dark storm clouds hovered in the sky as the pass was showered with a rain of ash. Moonlight bears witness... to the darkest day of our lands... nothing seems possible to change the destiny of war... The voice thundered above all and the caster shuddered as a dark force tore it away from the fractured prediction.

Night was around her as eyes opened once more, body shivering. Never. Never in all her years of prediction did voice come with location, only with faces... identities... Something was not right, dark, darker than the sky. The sky that rained ash... What could it possibly mean? Illessya shivered and looked at the sky before turning to glance at the Pass for tomorrow's attack. Whatever it was, her Orcs wouldn't be there to meet it. She didn't know what the prediction meant but she knew one thing, that Pass was barren, with no life and only ash... She wasn't going to lead her Orcs to be slaughtered.


Fingers moving carefully her left hand clenched to a fist as her right raised high into the air, palm open, as a golden light lifted and burst, its golden rays illuminating everything around the camp as the sentries began to rouse the Horde. "Do you need something Mistress?" One of her guards moved into the fires light, his armor shimmering as he head bowed to her presence.

Illessya rose up, her naked form soft, yet strong, in the moonlight. " I have had a premonition of the battle tomorrow.... We will be moving somewhere else until it is over..."

The Orc bowed lower and stood up, "I will assemble the troops and we will move as you say." He left as she waved him off before looking back into the fire. Her eyes watched the fires leap as the wood beneath slowly turned to ash. Fuel for the fires, but her Orcs would not be fuel...

---

In one of the far areas of Gia was a section that had a dense population of Orcs. There were other races mixed in with them, but whole communities were set up for the orcs of that sector. They lived across the city and participated with others, though one force, or figure drew them to reside in this area. In one sector where buildings had been scorched to blackened earth sat a tent that had been drawn together of bare and simple fabrics and simple wooden posts. Within this tent sat a shawoman, one who was responsible for saving a great number of her people and others after the Day of Ashes. Illessya's premonition saved a great many from ruin and after the fated day, sent search parties out to retrieve survivors, always on the move to avoid being caught in the fires of the Dragons, as they were told by those they saved.

Now she resided in the city of her kind with a mixture of both races, using her premonitions to watch and warn of anything in the danger, yet not all foretellings are so clear. Not just the Orcs were drawn to her abilities, as it is known that the Orcs hold angelic magic, rather than the arcane or other mixes. Many came to her just to understand her abilities, or came cause they heard of her strange customs, though she welcomes all as if they were apart of her tribe. Indeed it was Illessya who urged her own Orcs to mix in with those of Gia to help the community grow as she sat in her tent to greet and aid those that asked it of her.

On this particular morning she sat in a wash of spices and essence as she waited calmly for her scouts to return. And in time the steady wing beats filled the air as fire shadows spread across the ground, Orcs, Humans and Halflings parting away as the five great Harpies flew down gently and landed in front of the tent, each one watching carefully as they trusted few save the Shawoman. Their leader stood tall, at his full height, wings flapping gently as he hopped into the tent hand reaching out until it came to rest on a stool-like perch that was placed there for him, his body leaning on it heavily so he could stop beating his wings.

She regarded the male thoughtfully as he only watched ahead, that lone indigo eye gazing out to the back of the tent. "Tel me owl... How fares the lands around Gia?" He looked to her then, but only because she spoke to him as an equal and not a lesser, even when she saved the life of he and his companions.

"The land is still quaking from the strike of the Dragons, though there is little to be seen around Gia... almost too quiet if you ask me. Almost like a storm is coming." His eye shifted restlessly then, and she had little to blame him for... When they found the Harpy, his body was scoured with burns and almost all of his feathers were gone from his body. There is nothing more desperate or despair stricken then a Harpy with clipped wings. For the first few months they had to be under constant watch so they wouldn't take their own lives. And in the end they thanked and helped her for letting them live. She moved a hand to the side of her head so she could rest on it, eyes watching him casually as she smirked.

"Nothing changes with the lands... Though my worry is always there, and I have you to thank for keeping watch... Tell me owl," She looked at him seriously for a moment as she sat up, "Will you ever tell me what your real name is... or how you got such wounds on your body.... I would be greatly fascinated with that story..."

Owl regarded her before shifting up onto his single leg and bowed, wings flapping slowly to keep his balance, "Another time perhaps Illessya, this old Fowl has much he must still do, before his tale can be told..."

She smiled and shrugged, "When you are ready, I am always here... Now I think the wind is calling you again, may your skies stay clear."

"And may your visions stay open."

With that the Harpy lifted himself up and left her tent. She watched him through the open flap as he and his band were brought their quivers and bows and took flight once more. Scouting in the morning, and hunting in the afternoon. Life sure was busy here... She smiled and looked at one of the few burning candles she had before looking at the gathering crowd outside. It would be time for her premonition wouldn't it? She smiled and stood up a bit, hands brushing her soft skin as she looked at herself before walking outside, her casting armor inside still as she went out as she was to greet those who came to see her.

---

"...and I'm saying we should attack now! They are in disarray and the Dragons have emerged!"

The icy whisper echoed cleanly in the dark corridor of stone where they were gathered, where darkness claimed them in a passage believed to be a death trap. It was... when they were in it. The forms were all gathered around a mystical purple flame that burned with little light though just enough to identify the lone passage into the cave. Each form was of great or little height as they stood discussing events. Their voices in cold whispers that gave away neither race nor gender but all of them had a good idea of the other, save their leader.

"You forget your place Gole! It is not up to you but our leader to determine when we shall move..."
"Our leader? Our fool of a leader who spends more time on the surface cutting both ranks of those fools rather than planning like us? What leader goes off on his own to do such foolish things?"
"Watch your tongue! Remember who it was that claimed the head and not you... remember what happened to the last one to question him..."
"Hard to forget that, but we should ignore him and attack now!"

"Ignore who?" The cave fell silent as a pair of red eyes drifted in from the entrance, the fire seeming to illuminated the crimson armor the figure wore as red eyes burned into those gathered. "Attack when they are still banded and strong? Rather than bide our time for when we can cause the most harm. Attack now and be crushed and identified and hunted, than strike in the shadows and crush them all into despair? You do forget yourself Gole... remember I spared you're life cause you were little more than a lieutenant to an old fool."

The one called Gole shifted, "I spoke out of place my Lord. We are at your command and follow you blindly."

"Well maybe not you... but everyone can relearn their place... in time.... Sythris, how fares our operations?"

"It was fairing slow until the Day of Ashes, my Lord, and now with many of the mines and forges abandoned, our claim on Mithril is greater than before... We have finished the first set, not but a few nights before... Of course the first one is for you..." The shadow shifted and lifted up a package close by, the shimmer of mithril seen by the fire as he approached the newcomer. "Like you asked, we rounded up many slaves and drained their blood, using it to cool the fired and molded armor so it resembles your old..."

The one with crimson eyes advanced and took the armor, "As expected from our master smith... I have one complaint however..."

"My lord?"

The one with crimson eyes reached into the helmet gently and slowly pulled out a subterra scorpion by its tail and dangled it between his claws, "It seems Gole isn't the only one who forgets himself..."

"But my Lord, I..." The other couldn't say any more as the other flicked out his hand throwing the tail of the tiny scorpion through the eye hole in the helm as the one called Sythris shrieked as metal gauntlets banged against his helm, trying to rid his face of the pest before his motions became sluggish and fell to the earth, no longer moving.

"Gole."

"Yes my Lord?"

"Strip the traitor of his armor and throw the body into subterra, use the armor on one of our most capable adepts of the forge, and promote him to master... Make sure he doesn't fail me..."

"I will do as you ask, My Lord.... my Lord?"

"Yes Gole, I return to the surface with my new present... I will inform you all of when it is time..."

The one called Gole bowed in the shadows as all the others moved as one to do the same. In one silent breath they all whispered, "All hail Dracon..."