Maree Lumariale's Story

"Will not!" bellows Nachytsm, parrying her challenging words with his iron wit. He had never been a left-handed swordsman, so adapting to it was proving more difficult than he had intended. This was his first true battle without his right arm, and he kept finding himself trying to swing with the phantom.

At least he had the help of Al'Kaera, for the moment. But he did not want it particularly. Battle was his life. With his first strikes being parried, the hulking man steps away to unleash a wide swing upon her, with the intent to rend her in two across the waist. Following this, he would bring a vertical strike down on her before again re-assessing the situation.

He expected to be blocked; after all, she was fast, armed with a light sword. He could not use all of his old strength, lacking an arm as he was. He would have to be either very careful, or brutally offensive. The latter was his likely choice, but for that he needed her to open herself up.

Seeing that Maree had freed herself, and was once again charging forward, Al'Kaera took pause for a moment. Ensuring that his strike would fly true, he takes a moment to aim at the winged woman before he fires his second arrow. Then, he charges after Maree and Ana, trying to position himself closer to Morana. If she was to switch targets, he would hopefully be able to intercept her.

Shifting his gaze forward, he cries out to Maree as well. "Maree! Wait! You are putting yourself in danger!"

He could tell, even with everything else going on, that Nachytsm was having trouble. He may have to find a smaller blade in order to fight effectively in the future, Al'Kaera realized. That would be a thought for later. For now, his priority was protecting Maree.

And Ana, he realizes.

The arrow sank deep into Morana's thigh but it did not deter her. In fact the woman seemed to not even have noticed that an arrow was lodged into her leg. There was no blood. Morana jumped back and side-stepped his attacks. He was powerful and fast. The Xhes never did a formal combat with him before. She had underestimated his prowess in battle but Morana would not make that mistake again.

She needed to get closer to him but avoiding his blade while doing so was going to be a challenge. Out of the corner of her eye, Morana spotted Maree and the feather. This caused a momentary opening as she was attempted to dodge and parry Nachytsm's attacks. She was like a dancer compared to his brutality, but an opening was an opening.

Maree dropped down onto her hands and knees. Her fingers were fervently attempting to find the feather that was nearby. While she could sense a general location of the feather, she could not pinpoint it exactly.

Anaree was torn. She saw Aderas making for Maree and made her choice. She ran at her full speed toward Morana, who had her back vulnerable to Anaree. She had Maree's blade in her hand; a small decorative dagger. It had fallen from her mother's possession when the two were struggling against each other.

Morana cried out as a blade sank between her shoulder blades. The Xhes turned, ripping the dagger from Anaree's grip. Anaree's eyes went wide with fear. She wasn't a fighter. She had been trained but this was the first time she had ever been in serious danger before.

Anaree felt a bite in her shoulder. She staggered back and blinked. Morana had stabbed her in the shoulder joint.

The woman had given him an opening, and he fully intended to utilize it. That is, until he saw Anaree charging her from behind. It caused him to hesitate; the attack he had in mind would, if it succeeded, hurt her as well.

In that moment, he realized with a horrified expression that he was allowing someone- that wasn't Al'Kaera- to affect his combat.

That moment was all it took to give Anaree time to jab the dagger into his foe's back. Screaming in pain, the woman turns around, returning the dagger to Anaree via the shoulder.

And now he was enraged. The battle had gone beyond simple warfare, and had become a matter of inflicting as much pain on this enemy as possible. Roaring with his fury, Nachytsm thrusts forward with his blade; aiming down, he was willing to exchange a killing blow for the safety of Anaree. If he struck, he would likely remove one of Morana's legs, or pin her horribly to the ground.

But he didn't want his sword anymore. That was a tool, a means of ending a life quickly. He only needed one hand to crush something.

And so, releasing the blade he grabs for Morana's neck. If he caught her, she would be in for a hellish experience.

Al'Kaera could not pay attention to the battle. He heard their foe scream in pain, after Ana had run towards her, but his focus was entirely on Maree, who was now alone.

Rushing forth to her, he could see that which she sought so desperately. "Maree," he shouts, before dropping to his knees next to her. He takes her hand with his own and places it over the feather. He wanted to admonish her, but he could not bring himself to do so. He could sense her desperation, her fear.

With his hand over hers, he casts a quick glance towards the battle. Anaree was staggering away, and Nachytsm was screaming in a familiar rage. He would need to enter the battle soon.

Morana screamed as Nachytsm's sword sliced right through the back of her knee and into the ground. She was effectively pinned like a dead butterfly set up for display. She glared at Anaree who staggered backward a few steps. A confused look shown clearly on the girl's face as if she didn't understand what had just happened.

Morana's scream was cut off as Nachytsm's hand clamped down around her throat. Despite her knee being pinned, she struggled as much a she could to get the man off.

"Nachytsm?" Anaree said in a quiet voice. Her eyes then rolled in the back of her head and Anaree collapsed onto the ground. The shock was too much to bear but Anaree would definitely survive her wound.

Morana still had the blade in her hand and was valiantly attempting to saw at Nachytsm's remaining wrist.


Maree heaved a heavy sigh of relief as soon as her hand found the feather. Though with the conflicting forces inside her body, Maree was unsure if she had found it for Dhaelhel or for Naar. Either way, a feather had been claimed and Maree would die protecting it, or defending it.

She didn't seem well aware that Aderas was even touching her. The woman's thoughts were obsessed with the feather.

He had her in his grasp, and he would end her. Nachytsm was not a man of mercy. He begins lifting her higher, probably causing severe damage to her pinned leg, before Anaree's soft voice brings his humanity back. The red light behind his eyes dims slightly, as he watches the young woman collapse.

Then a pain in his wrist brings him back to reality. Unable to crush the offending arm- he was after all only possessed of one himself- He slams Morana's body sideways into the barn, on the side that her sword arm was. If that did not loose her grasp on the weapon, he would do it again, and again, until either she dropped it, died, or his hand came off.

Not to mention the possibility of asphyxiating her, or ripping her leg off.

Maree was safe, Al'Kaera determined, for the moment. A scream of pain drew his attention back to the battle raging; and then his eyes fell on Ana, laying on the ground. Nachytsm was going berserk. He didn't even use his sword anymore, which was a clear sign that he was on the edge of sanity.

Al'Kaera would need to intervene. But he could not leave Maree.

"Maree," he says, in a strong tone. "Come, we need to stop this battle. Ana is injured," he adds, hoping that might help bring her back to him. "As is Nachytsm." He did not forget the first heavy blow the large man had taken.

Helping Maree to her feet, whether she assisted herself or not, he tries to bring her towards the combatants. "Nachytsm! Karneel!"

A harrowing scream rolls across the fields of Valhaven as Morana's knee pops and her leg severs from the rest of her body. It did not completely sever. A few tendons and muscles still attempted to cling to the rest of Morana. And yet, still there was not a drop of blood to be spilled.

The last of Morana's air had been expelled from her body. She was not suffocating. It was harder to kill the woman than it seemed. Her body thumped and thumped against the wood of the old barn. The rotted structure began to moan and groan with the impacts. It was threatening to collapse.

Morana lost the dagger but that did not stop her from attempting to get loose from the man's hold. Her fingernails were just as good as any dagger. She dug into his skin and tried to pry away tendon, sinew, and if she could, bone.


Maree stood only because Al'Kaera had hefted the woman to her feet. Otherwise Maree would have stayed on the ground protecting the feather from everyone.

"Stop!" Maree shouted. Her feet planted into the ground. It was difficult to tell if it was meant for Al'Kaera, Nachytsm, or the enemy. Maree could sense the presence of an undead. It was an old corpse, one that had been risen against its will. It was an angry spirit out for a false revenge.

"Undead. Corpse. Not alive," Maree said to Al'Kaera. "Put her to rest. Put her to rest, please." Just as she had been sensitive to animals when a younger woman, Maree was highly sensitive to the unholy now. Tears filled her eyes at the pain and sorrow wafting off the creature.

Nachytsm wouldn't have responded to much at that point. He was almost too far gone. An order laced with power, however, brought him back. He became acutely aware of the ripped armor and torn flesh that had replaced his wrist. Looking towards Al'Kaera and Maree, he forces the Undead woman to the ground.

He was still enraged, but he could suppress it. He would not let loose the beast, especially not on a target that was already as good as dead. His eyes, having nothing better to do as he kept the thing pinned for Al'Kaera to 'put it to rest,' wander to Anaree.

She was unconscious. At least, he found himself hoping that was the case. He had a very distinct knowledge of death, and felt sure that she wasn't. She would need help. He had to help her, maybe. He didn't know. He was just worried in general, all of a sudden, a feeling of general dismay.


Nel had landed, finally. She disdained being thrown as such, but her dignity was probably less important than her life. She starts making her way to the others, with an eye for Anaree.

Al'Kaera did not need to be told more than once. Maree's tone was more than enough incentive to put the poor thing down. With Nachytsm cooperating, for the moment, he could line up a shot.

Raising his bow, he selects an arrow and fits it into place. Leveling it at the woman, he aims for her head. Muttering a brief phrase, he charges the arrow with some of his power- he had lost much, but he had enough for that.

Then, he fires. The arrow did nothing special, visibly, but provided it hit its target it would dissolve- and perhaps take the body with it, freeing the soul.

Then, he stood by Maree for a moment as he surveys the battlefield. Nachytsm was clearly wounded, though most of it was superficial. Ana was his primary concern, aside from Maree's mental health.

The arrow flew true and struck Morana in the temple. It lodged into her skull and passed straight into the wood of the barn. Morana's body turned to dust with a sigh.

Maree sighed too and sunk down to her knees. The feather was clutched in her hands protectively still, against her breast. They had captured a feather. It was safe.

"Safe, safe, safe," Maree said under her breath in a unending chant.

Anaree was still unconscious. Blood flowed from the wound. It needed to be staunched. She was losing color but her pallor was more from the shock than blood loss.

Once the body had turned to dust, Nachytsm stands up and stares down at the remains as they wander away in the wind.

When he brought his eyes back to the situation at hand, a dull expression of worry was on his face.

Al'Kaera was trying to get Maree to get back to her senses. With them distracted, only he could help Ana. Nel was already there, but she couldn't really do anything about the blood.

Nachytsm, however, could. His saliva could be used to close his own wounds, and he had no reason to believe it wouldn't work for Ana. That thought in mind, however, he wasn't sure he wanted to. No, he did want to, he realized. He didn't know if he should.

He had to do something, though. She was so pale.

Swallowing his fears, the large man stomps over to her and straddles her body. Closing his eyes, he clumsily rips open her shirt before shoving his face down, clamping his mouth over the wound.

Staring at Maree for a moment, Al'Kaera simply holds her in his arms and coos softly in her ear. "Maree, come back. We have need of your skills," he says. She was almost out of her mind, it seemed, and he had to try and bring her back to him, if not for the sake of Ana, then for herself.

His attention is brought to Nachytsm as he lumbers over to the wounded girl. Taking it upon himself to try and provide first aid- in a manner of speaking- he began performing... something.

Al'Kaera had taught him some non-magical healing techniques, and it looked to him like he was trying to suck poison from her wound. Aware as he was to the large man's somewhat regenerative saliva, it still struck him as somewhat odd. Almost amusing, if they had been in better circumstances.

"Come, Maree," he says, trying to bring her over to Ana, and back to reality.

"No," Maree said. "No. No more healing. I am tired, A'Kaera. I am so tired." And it was true. Maree had not slept that previous night due to the horrifying nightmares sent to her by Naar. Anaree had fed her at the conference but Maree had gotten sick soon before they had all set off to leave.

Maree had run for the feather but that effort had taken the last bit of strength from her. Naar could be cruel to his avatars or he could bolster them. Maree was still fighting against his control and thus the Old God of Death was punishing the elven woman. He was robbing her of her strength, will, and health.

"He wants it. He wants the feather. He knows, Al'Kaera, he knows," Maree said to her husband. Tears filled her eyes and she hide her face into his shirt. Maree clutched the fabric with one hand weakly while the other still held the white feather to her breast.


Anaree began to move beneath Nachytsm and groaned. There was fire in her shoulder and something dripping down her arm. Anaree gasped as she remembered that she had been stabbed. The girl's eye flew open and she tried to sit up but there was a heavy weight on top of her.

It was Nachytsm. Anaree's heart raced in her small chest. She looked at what he was doing and felt ... she felt ... she didn't know what she felt. He was straddling her and his mouth was on her and her shirt was...

Anaree took a few moments to breathe. This probably was not what it looked like, she thought to herself. Please don't be what it looks like, she thought after that.

The girl cried out from a lance of pain that ran up and down her arm, down her side, and up her neck. The whole right side of Anaree's body was on fire.

"Nachytsm!" Anaree gasped. "Stop!"

Nachytsm's eyes snap open in shock. Pulling his mouth away from her, bits of spittle and blood dripping from his lip, he stares at her for a moment before his eyes flutter slightly. Blood was a rare thing for him to consume, aside from that of animals. It was almost an intoxicant to him, and Ana's was remarkably... something.

But he couldn't quite understand what. Part of his removing himself from her wound had been due to the order- which bore more power than it really ought to have- but it was also another influence inside him that seemed to be retching at the action.

It made him feel both elated and ill, and he wasn't sure how to take it.

Then, he actually realizes his positioning. Getting off Ana and kneeling next to her, he stares pointedly at her face. He did not have Al'Kaera's gift of ignoring feminine aspects. Despite everything, he was still a man.

He simply sits, worriedly hoping to be useful again.

Al'Kaera winces as Maree tells him she cannot heal. She sounded so broken, so weary. He nods to her, still holding her close, muttering small, sweet words to her. "Forgive me," he then says. "I ask too much of you. Rest," he says, helping her to the ground.

He was a man that seldom allowed tears to form in his eyes, but he could not do more than keep them bottled away, seeing Maree like this. He would free her soon. "He will not take it. I will guard it and you with my life." He stoops to kiss her forehead, despite his mask, but is interrupted by Ana's shriek.

Snapping his eyes over to the pair, Nachytsm was hastily extricating himself from the young woman. It wasn't a shout of indignation, but of sheer pain. "I will attempt to heal her," he tells Maree, making sure she was steady in her position. "I will be near, always."

He then walks over to Anaree and kneeling on her opposite side to Nachytsm, he looks down at her intensely. "Please, tell me how I can help. Where is your pain?" He could see the wound, clearly, but given her writhing, it was worse than just that. "Where is the weapon that did this?"

Maree stayed where she was left. Her fingers ran along the soft feather. A deep look of concentration was on her face while her blue eyes stared out to nothingness. The woman's head tilted as she listened to the others.

Anaree had covered herself with her good arm. It made her feel far too vulnerable to be left bare in front of Nachytsm even though...

The girl moaned in pain and sat up. Her forehead rested against Nachytsm's shoulder and she fought to control her breathing. Anaree stared down at the dagger. She had never planned to get stabbed by it. That construct was her mother's staff; a sentient thing that had a mind of its own and strange qualities. It was an heirloom, passed unwillingly from mother to daughter.

"I am fine. I can heal on my own," Anaree told Al'Kaera. Sweat beaded on her brow. "It's just my shoulder. It's nothing too bad. I'm a big girl, I can handle myself!" Anaree didn't yell but her tone was assertive. She felt guilty for speaking to her father that way but then again, he was clueless about her.

"That dagger just has a nasty bite is all," Anaree said.

"It is the phyre," Maree said. She had walked to them. The elven woman wasn't facing any of them directly but she had a good estimation of where they all were. Maree said a few words in her elvish tongue. The dagger shimmered, faded, and then disappeared. In Maree's hand was a long crystalline staff that curled at the top into the shape of a dragon's head.

"Tell it to stop, please," Anaree said to Maree as cringed against the pain. Maree nodded and spoke to the staff once more. Anaree slagged against Nachytsm and she quietly thanked Maree.

Nachytsm was only half there. He was still a bit confused about everything that had just happened, but his being confused wasn't a rare thing. He allows the others to talk, while he remains a stoic pillar of... well, simple brutality. He hadn't been thanked, and he didn't expect to be, since he had not in actuality done anything to help. She could heal herself, she had said. All he had done was embarrass her it seemed.

He felt worse than he felt like he should. And yet, a weight on his side brought his attention to Anaree leaning on him.

Maybe she was thanking him, in her own way. He just grumbles and keeps his hand to himself. It was easy enough to do, with his conflicting views.

Al'Kaera nods down to Anaree, his brows raising at the thus far uncharacteristic anger. She was in pain, though, so it made sense. "My apologies," he says to her. "I simply sought to provide aid."

When she and Maree had their brief back and forth, and the pain finally drained from her, Al'Kaera fixes a look on Nachytsm briefly. The man seemed to be going through a lot, and Al'Kaera could imagine what some of it pertained to. Standing to leave the two alone, he removes his cloak and drapes it over Ana. Nachytsm likely wouldn't think to do so, and his cloak was practically tatters anyway.

Walking back to Maree, he takes stock of his surroundings for the first time. The place, Valhaven as Ana had called it, bore an air of lost nobility. It felt as if the land called out to him. These thoughts flow in his mind as he settles himself on a knee next to Maree, placing a hand on her shoulder.