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The Gift

Civil Encampment, Justice

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a part of The Gift, by Ghaarme.

The Civil base camp.

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Setting

A fairly large army base, with several stone spires and roughly one hundred tents for soldiers. The two largest tents are reserved for generals, while the greatest is the recreation tent.
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Civil Encampment, Justice

The Civil base camp.

Minimap

Civil Encampment, Justice is a part of The Gift.

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Illessya Andracor [0] An orc Shawoman gifted with "Fractured" Predictions and the blessing of Angelic magic. Once partnered with the War Cheif, at his mysterious death it left her in charge of the forces.

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#, as written by Ghaarme
Night had come in earnest, on the grassy plains, and the Civil encampment was nearly dead with silence. After such a crushing defeat it was more than understandable that nobody would want anything more than to sleep it off. Even the recreation tents had been closed, by order of not only general Ebon but also captain Derenthi. Midnight brought no stars or moon, for on this section of the land, a heavily overcast clouds hung on the sky. Nhil sat within Miralight's tent, which was filled from top to bottom with an assortment of...junk, in his opinion. Some of that 'junk' even moved around and stared at him...Still, through the uncomfortably small surrounding, the captain waited. He had been in charge of the little woman before and knew what to expect. In the back of his mind, he remembered that general Liu-Wen was supposed to be arriving in a couple of hours. He wouldn't be happy to find a captain missing without cause.


A sense of vertigo and enough dizziness to make you want to sit down for a while all in the span of a heartbeat, a sensation that was hard to get used to. Shokunen wondered idly how mages could seem so calm and composed after teleporting into the middle of a battle. Shaking his head, the lamia peered into the night from his darkened corner. The camp was all but silent, the moon obscured by a thick blanket of clouds. Rain... he thought with a smile. His hunch was confirmed a moment later as the first fat drops of water began to patter onto the grassy plain. Teleporting into the enemy camp was never something that truely bothered Shokunen, but the thought that the sounds provided by the rain would help to mask his prescence made the warrior prince feel a little more at ease.

Now, he pondered, his eyes scanning the tents arrayed across the field, where are you... With preternatural speed and grace the snake-man slithered low to the ground across the grass. Within a few moments he found the location of his desire, marked quite obviously by the fact that it was easily the largest tent in the camp. Noiselessly, Shokunen lifted up a small portion of the rain-resistant tarp and glided inside. It was pitch black, but the eyes of the lamia were made for such conditions. In the darkness he made out several desks, a dresser and a particularly lavish round-bed...with a dark elf undressing in front of it.

He smiled, and coiled like a viper about to strike. Even with such size and strength, the leap made next to no noise, and the rain served to nullify the miniscule tap of the tip of his tail leaving the ground. In another moment he crashed into his prey in a wicked embrace. The lamia had coiled his thick tail around the dark elf's lower half, his arms pinning her own to the headboard of the bed. A low hiss escaped his throat and Shokunen lowered his head as if to sink his fangs into her neck...but drew a line of light kisses down it instead.

"Good evening, Diloxi..." he whispered in a breathy voice against her midnight skin.

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#, as written by Neava13
She had been half asleep not really expecting company any time soon, then she felt the air shift only moments before his warm body crashed into hers pressing her against the bed. Her eyes were wide for a moment then she grinned devilishly up at him and shivered at the kisses. Her blue hair fanned out behind her as she looked up at him with her glowing blue eyes. Her dark skin was all the darker against his; and the smile at her lips showed just how much she acted before the rest of the world, the devilish smile was who she really was.. the calm bitch was only a facade to please those above her.. and those below. ”Good evening lover.. mmmmm.. I didn’t expect you tonight.. though I guess I do get a treat for letting you win hmm?” Her voice groaned past her full lips. In her mind it was like a game of chess, each piece played in her favour, each betrayal brought her closer to her goal, and one of her best endeavours was through the prince that now coiled his body lustfully around hers.

Such unions were met with hostility by most, but she never did understand the distain for such things. Why not enjoy what the gods created? Besides she had no revulsion for the Lamia form like so many of her kin did. Civilized or not they were powerful beautiful creatures that deserved a place in her world.. she would have to kill them all first to get the power, but bringing them back was on the top of her list once she had gained the power of the Gift. The embrace slid into passion something that her own race could never achieve the same way as her Lamian Prince. Such passionate encounters happened more often than not.. and they were always brutal and always pleasurable beyond description; a secret her and her lover kept from all. They even went as far as to try to kill each other during battles taking the thrill of each other’s survival as another enjoyable embrace and an even more powerful thrill to see if they could actually kill each other eventually.

The deal had been to ensure each other’s races survival.. the Lamia and the Dark Elves would survive letting the rest fall to extinction.. from there she had her own plans, she was sure he had his as well. At the end of their lives she was sure it would be his blades or her magic that would end the twisted alliance.. though so far things continued according to plan, Diloxi’s forces had lost a large number of humans and elves, and Sho’s forces had lost a vast number of orcs and Minotaurs.. the plan had come to a perfect ending.. even so much as their coiled bodies.. It had been a very good day.. blood.. slaughter.. and lust.

The rain beating on the outside of the tent hid their passion filled voices and the vicious snarls that passed their lips. The secret would continue for another battle, their union was hidden as it had been for a long time now.. battle only brought them more joy, and the wrongness of their alliance drove the passion to greater heights.

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#, as written by Zareth
Zareth's eyes shot open. He was lying in a small cot in the healers tent, his feet easily dangling over the edge of the cot, almost touching the ground. His mask had been removed, but was nowhere to be found. His weapons lay on a small table next to him. A breeze blew through the tent, and he shuddered at the surprising coldness of it. He struggled to sit upright, and the cot groaned in protest to the unusually large weight it now held. Luckily, it didn't collapse, and he was thankful for that. Struggling against the fog that clouded his mind, Zareth attempted to put the pieces back together.

Collapsing on the circle.....two men lifting him to the healer's tent.....Healers inspecting his body.... The rest was blackness.

As his mind caught up to speed, he snarled and rose. The mask... Tugging on his boots and reaffixing his weapons on his person, he headed out of the tent. He had to bend over almost double to get out. A female healer attempted to stop him, but soon found herself sprawled on top of a cot. Straightening in the night breeze, Zareth looked around for where his mask might be, ears listening acutely for any commotion. Sounds of boisterous laughter and rather loud talking. The men sounded drunk. Grumbling to himself, he strode off in the direction of the sound.

Reaching a small campfire set away from the rest of the camp, Zareth came upon 4 soldiers and some officer, a lieutenant perhaps. The lieutenant was passed out in the dust, snoring rather loudly. The other 4 soldiers were dancing around the campfire, one wearing his mask and trying to chase the other soldiers down. He strode towards them, shadows playing about his features, highlighting the rather large scar that ran over his right eye. The soldiers stopped their game and looked towards the newcomer. The one wearing his mask walked, or rather stumbled, over, and spoke.

"What do you want, eh? If you're here for nothing, you better get away, unless you want a beating."

Zareth snorted. "Really? A beating you say? I should be threatening YOU with a beating, since you are the men who just so happened to take my mask. Besides, I don't think you could even hurt me."

The soldier let out a guffaw. "This mask is yours you say? Well, I say it isn't and that we found it. Call it a souvenir of battle. And if you'll look around, it is 4 on 1. I don't care how big you are, you're not scaring me. Now go away, or we'll make you leave."

"I don't think I'll be leaving until I have my mask back.", replied Zareth, his hands lying relaxed at his sides.

"Too bad. The healers will have a hard time fixing you up!", said the soldier as he threw a punch at Zareth's chest.

Zareth sighed. He'd rather it not come to this. As the punch came towards him, one of his massive hands grabbed the soldier's fist and clenched around it. Zareth began to squeeze the soldiers fist. The cracking of bone was audible as the soldier's bones began to snap in his hand. The soldier began so convulse with pain, and blood was seeping between Zareth's fingers. A bloodcurdling scream escaped from the soldier's mouth, and his compatriots turned and ran. Eventually, the man went white beneath the mask, so Zareth released his grip on the hand. The soldier collapsed on the ground, and cradled his crushed hand. Stooping, Zareth wiped his bloody hand on the soldier's pants and removed the mask. Affixing it to his own face, Zareth looked down at the wimpering soldier.

"A pity. You should have just given it back, and walked away with both of your hands intact. I beat the healers will have quite a fun time fixing up that hand.", he mocked.

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#, as written by Ikiriz
Tarel had been travelling for days now and longed for a good bed and some properly cooked food, but she had known for a while that it would have to wait. The silence that surrounded the lands told no tales of victory. It was actually good news for her since it meant there would most likely be a job to collect, but chances are they couln’t pay her very much. She pulled of her hood, hoping her elven heritage in this situation would make sure that the guards didn’t mistake her for an enemy in the dark. As she walked into the camp she got a few uneasy glares from the guards but to her relief nobody seemed to be interesting in calling her out. She could smell the stench of blood in the air and the lack of light and sound only added to the eerie aura this camp seemed to emnit. As she moved through the dark camp with a few glittering lights here and there it painted a picture in her mind of what the underworld must look like. Only with more fog, and dead people. She shook her head with an amused smile My thoughts seem to be amusingly dramatic tonight. Perhaps the war is starting to get the better of me. I really ought to find something more interesting to do then look at dead people. How long has it been since you have given yourself time to study?

Her stream of thoughts where interrupted by a loud cracking sound followed by a group of soldiers fleeing past her. She looked at the disappearing men and wondered shortly if the camp was being attacked but she doubted it. Surely they would raise alarm instead of this cowardly behaviour. She turned around to look at the direction they came from, apparently a fireplace nearby, judging from the flickering of light. There where several of them around the camp,but she had yet to see someone who looked like they where more then mere footmen. She considered it briefly before moving past a few tents, rounding the last corner to the fireplace.

The sight of the enormous man with the bloodied hands towering over a whimpering, bloody little man surprised her and she raised an eyebrow. It didn’t help the fact that the man seemed to have no vision at all, his eyes covered by a metal helmet. She almost laughed at the obscure sight but managed to hold down a chuckle. Well perhaps this mess will attract someone of higher rank I can talk to. Or perhaps he is and that’s why he’s getting away with it? No.. Perhaps the soldier had committed a crime and was punished for it? But surely the others wouldn’t run if it was a punishment. Lost in thoughts and uncertain what to do next, she stared at the scene in front of her, waiting to see what he was planning on doing next had something to do with more fighting. She did not want to piss off the man double her size.

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#, as written by Ghaarme
Barely an hour passed before the delightful little encounter was forced to end, with the lamia sensing a presence just outside of the tent. Still weary from the 'fun', Shokunen sluggishly drew himself off of the bed. He leaned over the edge of the bed and placed a light kiss upon Diloxi's forehead and winked. "Thanks for the fun luv...but it looks like i'll be taking my leave." he spoke in a low whisper and glanced towards the entrance of the tent. "It appears you have an eavesdropper...well, good evening, Diloxi." he was about to take his leave when something clicked in his mind, as if he had forgotten something important. "Oh! And I have a present for you...I caught one of your messengers and told him that there was an...unsavory, Savage sympathizer within your ranks. I said general Liu-Wen would be most appropriate to deal with it. He should be arriving shortly with your gift. I hope it's to your liking." with a smile and a deft hand movement the lamia was whisked away by whatever magic had brought him here.


It was disgusting, and treasonous to the extreme. An elven general of the noble Civil, having relations with a filthy lamia savage? It wasn't unthinkable, but it would by no means be tolerated. Nhil stared through the slit of general Ebon's tent entrance clenching his fists in silent fury, the rain soaking into his clothing not registering in his mind at all. He had exited Miralight's tent roughly a half hour ago, thinking to hunt down the little trouble-maker on his own. Of course, after being berrated with the blame of the horrific battle earlier, he couldn't afford to be reckless. So, he decided to ask Diloxi for permission beforehand.

Only to find this. A lewd, revolting act right in the middle of a bastion filled with those loyal to the Civil cause. After witnessing Shokunen's departure, he quietly stepped into Diloxi's tent. Nhil did nothing but stare, his face a mask of cold consternation. With little more than an act of will several wraiths coalesced just outside of the tent within the rainy night air. They would go unnoticed, incorporeal and invisible until their summoner chose to reveal them. Already, his dark magic reached out to the catacombs beneath the encampment to call the long dead warriors of ages past. They would arrive in a bit, tunneling through several tons of dirt with a single minded determination. Nhil stood glaring at his general, with one thought fresh in his mind.

Traitor.

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#, as written by Zareth
It was then that he noticed the rain. The refreshing chill on his skin, washing away the blood off of his hands, and any other spatter that had crossed his chest. As the blood fell, he has a sudden compulsion to lick the remaining blood off of his hands. A desire from someplace, unknown to him, called to him to consume the blood of the living. He shuddered, and flicked the rest of the blood off of his hand. The gravity of the situation finally struck him, and he stared down at the unconscious man underneath him. He ran away, as fast as he could, away from the soldier.

The rain helped to mask his footsteps, and he suddenly found himself before a tent that was fit for no ordinary soldier. Must be an officer of some sort. After a cursory glance, he noticed a pale man, no, a deep human standing before the tent.

"Evening. What seems to be the matter....uhh....."

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Dukald thrashed Grimhide's reins, and jarred his heels into her sides, urging her to move faster. The heavy animal's footsteps thudded through the grassy land like a war drum. Again, the orange haired dwarf lashed the reigns. "Go! Git yer lazy hide goin'! Ain't no time ta waste, girl!" He shouted. The bear responded with a low, groaning roar. The bear's mass slightly jiggled as it thundered towards the Civil Encampment: Justice. He would arrive in only a few minutes at this rate.

His objective came into view; the arrangement of tents that bore a Civil banner in front. His bear's monsterous paws slammed against the ground as they began to slow, almost digging holes as sudden as the decrease in speed was. He looked amongst the tents, his green eyes anaylizing each one. To his military experience, usually the "In Commands" had larger tents then the rabble. Dukald rode past the other infantry, looking at their surprised and shocked faces. He listened to their whispers of "Is he riding a bear?!", "That thing is a monster!", and other like sayings. It inflated the dwarf's head just a tad. The other races wouldn't even dream of trying to ride a bear, except perhaps the elves...and he didn't believe they could do it as masterfully as the dwarven race, whom had made riding these brutal creatures a fearsome art.

Grimhide plodded through the camp, allowing her dwarven rider to check all of the tents. He returned salutes that were tossed his way, and a few even followed him, seeing what he was doing. Rain pelted him and his steed, but they paid it no mind. In the mines, he was used to water dripping down from the tops of the caverns. Finally, he reached his destination; a rather large looking tent which seemed to be one of the higher-ups for the Civil. He jerked the reins of his mount, and threw his leg over, landing on the ground with a small jingle, his dwarven quailty mithril mail generating the sound. He walked inside the tent's flaps, and looked around. He saw both Diloxi, and Nhil inside. Peering to each one, he spoke up, his dwarven accent heavy on their ears. " 'Scuse me, would either o' ya happen ta be tha general?" The red-bearded dwarf asked with an eyebrow perched high.

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#, as written by Neava13
Diloxi frowned at the gentle kiss to her forehead as he stood, she hated to be kissed so gently when he could have done so much better. When he commented about the spy and her eyes narrowed she listened to him speak casting the Lamian Prince periodic glances to show him she was still listening. She slid from the bed sliding a sash about her hips as she flicked her fingers across the room lighting several incense to mask the smell of their encounter. She picked up a silver plated mirror and looked at her reflection as she used magic to clean her form then finishing it up with some rose water that her attendant had brought in earlier in the night. When Sho mentioned the gift she paused looking at him wide eyed and curious. A bright smile slid across her lips and she nodded, ”Goodbye.. thank you for your company.” she grinned playfully her youthful form shivering as his body slid across the expanse of the tent then disappeared in a bur of vision and thought.

Her breasts were concealed by the mirror she still held hugged against her chest her eyes lingering on the spot where Sho had disappeared from. A content smile slid over her lips as she shivered thinking of their encounter and then her eyes slid to the front of her tent. The near corpse like Captain stood glaring at her as she continued to hug the mirror to her, her hips covered only by a nearly see through red sash that was tied about her waist and slid against the floor concealing all but the outlines of her legs and feet. He looked like he was going to kill her, rage beyond measure slid against his features. Her long blue hair slid against her graceful ebony curves as her blue eyes locked on his nearly black orbs. He reeked of the death he clung to, and much like his expression coldness permeated the air around him.

He was going to kill her.. or at least try, she wanted to gather her own power, but then what? What would she tell the troops when she killed their Captain? What story could she weave that would be convincing. A strong male voice sounded outside the tent not far from Nhil. Diloxi’s form was hidden from the humans’ view by cloth and tapestries. Diloxi quickly retreated farther into her tent and slid a sash about her breasts and set the mirror down on the dresser as she pulled her hair up in a bun using an ornate golden needle. Another voice sounded from outside the gruff gravely voice of a dwarf and she winced. Her eyes looked at Nhil apprehensively for a moment, it was probably the first sign of fear he had ever seen the woman give. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath feeling his power coil about her. He could summon an army here if he wanted.. an army of undead powerful enough to strip the flesh of every living creature here.. she could counter such magic.. but yet again.. what would it give her? Even if she somehow managed to survive.. what would she say?

”Captain.. why don’t you come inside and give me your report.” She slid to the front of her tent and pulled back the cloth looking at the dwarf and the huge bear they road.. then her eyes slid to the human with the mask over his face and she arched a brow. ”If you both are reporting in, the medical tent it to the right.. I can provide you both with escorts if you need anything specific? Its rather late.. maybe you both should get some rest.. the Soldier’s quarters are the second largest tent in the encampment, the Sergeant there will give you both a hot meal, is there something else other then that I can help you both with at this late hour?” She hoped they would leave.. right now the last thing she needed was an audience. She was interested in the dwarven bear rider, and the masked human, but interest was overshadowed by her need for survival. Her eyes slid back to Nhil his same stony glare told her she was probably about to be killed for her transgressions though she hoped she had a bit more time.

She slid back and pulled the flap of the tent back as she slid her other hand out gesturing Nhil to enter, She frowned looking at the circlet across the room on her dresser, the circlet helped to deflect attacks.. yet it had to be on for her to have any aid from it. She could claim she loved Sho.. but did she? She could claim it was all a ploy to trap the enemy.. but that would never work.. her mind slid through all the things she could say.. but nothing seemed to work in her mind.. He had seen Sho leave.. she knew he had seen him.. and if so.. there was no denying she could ever do to diminish that. So she waited.. she paused hoping the other two would leave before Nhil slid enough out of his rage to speak. Then she decided to speak as if she had no clue what he wanted or what he had seen, ”Why such the aggressive expression Captain? Are you still upset with me for striking you?”

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#, as written by Ghaarme
A voice called out from somewhere close behind, only serving to anger the necromancer further. As if to compound his rage, yet another fool chimed in. Who were these idiots that just barged in unannounced into a general's presence? Nhil shook his head in dismissal. Pleasantries didn't really apply at the moment, considering the situation. Any doubt he could've had about the nature of the dark elf's meeting was dashed away when the slightest hints of fear tugged at Diloxi's features.

”Captain.. why don’t you come inside and give me your report.” Diloxi said, in a poor attempt to seem nonchalant. Nhil gave her a thin, tight-lipped smile and walked further into the room until barely a meter seperated the two. Her speaking to the two new arrivals barely registered in his mind, as Nhil focused on gathering more magical energy. He thought he saw Diloxi glance at the dresser, but thought little of it. She was practically naked, and any equipment she could gather from there...well, she'd be dead before she could slip on a ring. Her dulcid voice snapped the necromancer out of his thoughts and drew his immediate attention. ”Why such the aggressive expression Captain? Are you still upset with me for striking you?”

All pretenses of difference or politeness were thrown out of the window at that moment. Does she really think I didn't see? Nhil made a show of looking around the room, as if realizing this was his first time here. Finally, his steely gaze rested on Diloxi. "Hm...aggression...no, no. I realize you did what you thought was right in...striking me. No. I'm more interested in the fact that you consort with..." his mouth spread in a malicious grin. "Snakes?" Reaching down, he wrapped a gloved hand around around bundle of leathers. Without showing himself to be in any rush, the deep human slowly unwrapped the package to reveal a perfectly preserved obsidian skull, presumeably blackened by fires. As soon as his hand touched the article of bone, a palpable force of wrongness hung heavy in the air. Whispers of some unseen bieng hissed within the ears of those nearby...the gibbering dead. "I don't suppose you've met my brother..." he said, raising the skull to eye level. "This is Gillian." the empty eyesockets instantly beamed to life with an unearthly green glow. "And he says you're a naughty little elf. So if you would..."

Thirteen remnants, each a half-rotted zombie erupted from the earth below Diloxi's tent, tearing down the structure in brief moments and loping towards the dark elf. It was at that exact moment that the seven wraiths waiting outside shifted to the corporeal plane and howled in agony, hissing through the air to rend the very lifeforce from Diloxi's mortal shell. Nhil himself raised a single finger of his free hand, and spoke a single word of power. A line of pure black energy streaked from the oustretched digit towards Diloxi's chest. The finger of death was a spell that would literally, forcibly remove the woman's soul. Nhil smiled and hopped back a few steps, drawing one of his blades Nithe and fell into a ready crouch. He knew that Diloxi was a sorcerer of no small skill, and maybe she'd be able to counter-spell his finger of death, or de-animate a couple of his undead...but not both. She would not be leaving alive.

"You die this night, traitorous bitch!"

All around, soldiers began to stirr, roused from their sleep by the commotion.

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The man in the tent with him took no particular interest in the dwarf being here. He threw his head in dismissal. Perhaps he was the Commander, and not she. But he nodded. "A'right...I await a moment ta speak with ya!" The scarlet haired dwarf said, turning and walking out of the tent. His head turned, to watch them as he left....

Suddenly, the man in the tent let his anger explode, as he pulled out a black skull, and conjured a mass of undead, zombies, and even more fearsome, the wraiths. The dwarven man pulled his axe and shield from his back looking around, unsure of what to think of this! The man proclaimed the woman a traitor.... Was this true?! This officer was apperently a traitor?! This put a dampen on things for him conciderably!

"Tha' hell is goin' on 'ere?!" Th dwarf yelled, backing away from the tent, his arms ready for battle with the undead. Their smell was putrid, and their wounds only added to their gruesome looks. But Dukald's stubborn courage held him here. He looked from side to side. The undead didn't seem on attack him, thankfully, the dumb undead shambling in the woman's direction.... But he was more worried about the Wraiths! They were of no physical manifestation, and their ectoplasm bodies and weapons could phase right though other objects, while still giving fell slashes of their own....

Grimhide and the other soldiers outside looked on in awe as the event took place.... They were unsure what to do!

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#, as written by Neava13
She started to snarl in defence about his comment aimed against what he had seen her do. Yet his countenance gave her pause.. two had heard why he was angry.. only two.. if she killed them and Nhil no one would know. All she had to do was live long enough to kill all three. Magic coiled about her form as it readied, she kept her hands at her sides as she felt his magic do the same. Her eyes dodging to the object he held before him, he was so close, just the slightest of power could kill him, yet she knew it wouldn’t be that easy.. it was never that easy.

"This is Gillian...........................And he says you're a naughty little elf. So if you would..."

Her eyes widened at the sight of the black skull with glowing green eyes; she had felt the things presence before she knew the power behind it. Then she saw his magic coil about his free hand and she readied her body against it. Raw magic coiled about her form like tendrils of darkness, the arua was familiar, it was normal though she never did more than stop objects or light things on fire in the immediate are with it. In truth in all his time Nhil had never seen her cast even one spell, she always directed, she always told others to do things, she didn’t even teleport herself asking her attendant to provide it. The lack of magic made her look inept in the eyes of those that she directed in battle, Nhil had more weight in her army then she did, though that was only with those not of the Dark Elf race. Rumours slid about the army about Diloxi burning away most of an army of orcs that led an attack on her home, rumours of dark magic surrounded the woman, yet none had really seen it.


"You die this night, traitorous bitch!"

The zombies leapt at her the same time that the black spell slammed for her chest. Her hands coiled before her as her lips turned to a snarl. Her teeth looked almost sharp from the shadows cast by the dark energy. Her body tightened and then black energy of her own slammed into his, a powerful wave of energy sliced through the air causing the edges of the falling tent to flair and float upwards for a bit longer, the main centre mast of the structure holding; though bending to the side as the undead lunged and the wraiths floated towards her. With a grunt as her fingers paled around the magic she pushed energy in the opposite force of his utterly nullifying both spells and staged backwards from the force and the loud popping sound the magic made when it met.

Cold rotten hands grasped her frail form as teeth bit into her shoulders, her arms were grabbed and tugged as the cold forms pushed her to the floor clawing at her and cutting into her. Blood spurted through the air as she screamed out, in a high pitched agony filled cry that would put the entire camp on alarm. ”TRATOR!” she screamed as a wraith’s hand slid through her body pulling energy from her and making her skin pale from their mist like touch. One of the zombies grabbed her hair and titled her head back as she kneeled on the ground being eaten alive as the mass of rotten corpses bit and tore at her skin....

Then something happened.. just as it looked like the fight was over before it truly began the world seemed to go utterly silent for a moment; a thick pulse echoed through the entire camp. Then her form exploded with fire, 10 feet around and 30 feet up a spire of black flames snarled into existence melting the ground at her feet and utterly burning the tent and the zombies that coiled about her in a single plume of magic. The wraith’s forms started to burn as the black flames seemed to devour their energy and all the light around it twisting ever higher into the heavens. The flames extinguished just as fast as they had come though in the darkness now stood Diloxi her body rippling with the black flames. Her body was soaked with her own blood as it flowed from several bites and claws freely. Her blue hair coiled about her form making her appear almost ghostly, then she extended her right hand sharply and a gnarled staff that had been leaned against her desk across the room rattled then flew through the air landing in her outstretched hand. She had one finger completely missing on that limb as well as one of her other fingers half way hanging by a bit of sinew as blood rolled from the wound.

The twisted black wooden staff seemed to come alive as the three branches at the top rolled, the entire length of the staff twisted and coiled up along her arm and down part of her chest as the branches turned to the three heads of a huge serpent. The entire beastly demonic staff latched itself to the ebony skinned woman as the heads of the snakes snapped and bit towards Nhil their single thick body seeming to almost dig into Diloxi’s bleeding form. ”You will die like the traitorous vermin you are Nhil!” at that blackened energy from herself extended into the staff her skin paling as bright glowing blue energy coiled between the three heads and the long necks of the black serpents. The snaked heads turned so their stomachs held the power into a tight orb it would only be a second before the magic let loose. Then with an arc of horrible blue energy the staff seemed to fire a bold powerful enough to resemble a bolt of lightning as it arced for Nhil himself as well as the human and the dwarf not far away, though the human and dwarf seemed to be more of an accidental side effect of the power rather than the true intent of the attack.

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#, as written by Ghaarme
It was a gruesome sight that one could never truely get used to, unless they lacked a soul. The dark play of the flesh eating undead savagely tearing apart their prey was something that made Nhil's stomach turn, though he had witnessed quite a few times. He wasn't an evil man...just one who would use any means to achieve peace. For some reason though, the young deep human was filled with a twisted sense of satisfaction as Diloxi cried out in anguish. Even through the heavy night's rain, it pierced the air with pain. He raised the black skull in the woman's direction again, gathering mana for his next spell and chanting the words for preparation. He glanced back at the dwarf and snarled a warning.

"If you want to live, I suggest you get back. Now." another scream from his target drew his attention though, as this was no mere cry of agony. She called him, a traitor. "You bitch! Your lies will be tolerated no more!" at that moment, she went quiet. And a jet black pillar of flame shot up into the air. Nhil raised his left hand with the blade, absorbing the heat and keeping himself cool as he observed the spectacle. The dark fires burned away the magical essence that composed the wraiths and reduced each remnant was charred to naught but blackened bones. The pillar of supernatural heat finally died down, with the traitor general looking quite battle-ready despite her grievous wounds. His eyes flicked towards the bones of his remnants scattered around the sorceress and a scowl ghosted across his features for a moment. "You look like shit, general."

Diloxi summoned her darkwood staff to hand and animated the serpentine weapon, prompting the necromancer to finish his chant. A deep blue aura permeated the air about him with energy, clashing with the dark elf's own dark force. Five pinpoints of black magic formed around the outstretched skull in Nhil's hand, channeling necrotic energy. The ebon skull of his brother would enhance the power and quality of each necrotic spell he used from this point on. At the moment Diloxi unleashed her hell lightning Nhil also sent his quintet of death finger spells at varying points for the dark elf. Nhil quickly raised his shortsword, Nithe and clashed blade to magic head on in a shower of sparks and force. The enchanted sword served to absorb a majority of the heat from her spell, and his veridian scarf Hazernon reduced the hellish energy to the point where Nhil was still standing, albeit with quite a few cuts from errant strands of power around his sword arm. Why waste a counterspell when resistance and tenacity are aplenty? he thought. "Rot in Avernus, you wretched harpy. You're the traitor! I should've seen it from day one...winning a battle, losing one, no matter what though, you survived. I suppose you lost this one on purpose, to please your little garden snake?"

Without warning Gillian's empty eyes flew alit with a deep violet flame, and the bones around Diloxi instantly arose with a sheen that made them appear to be made of polished obsidian. Dark skulls, more powerful undead granted by the enchanted bone's powers. Each charred skeleton was as durable as steel, and nearly immune to both shadow and heat spells alike. With mental nudge the necromancer sent all thirteen dark skull remnants to devour Diloxi's flesh once more. With that distraction, Nhil released his uilt up energy and chanted in a sinister language not meant for the ears of mortals. The earth shook and spat gouts of dirt and refuse. Most didn't know, or didn't care...but Justice had been a Savage war camp in ealier generations. As such, it was built upon the blood and bones of it's conquered...including, the warbeasts. With a blood-curdling roar the undead monstrousity exploded from the ground barely fifteen feet behind Diloxi. It immediately calmed, and lowered it's massive head to glare in her direction...then charged, intending to take much more than a bite out of the warlock.
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#, as written by Neava13
The five blasts of death touch sliced for her form right after the bolt of lightning rocked the area. The smell of burnt flesh and blood coated the area, but above that was the stench of rot and decay. She slid back her palm extended forward towards the five bolts of necrotic energy, the snake heads caught three of them devouring the energy and coiling it in between their heads in a black miasma. She took one of the blasts and the last blurred past her as she stepped towards the side at the last minute. Her body grew weaker, just as the bones reanimated into blackened skeletons lunging at her again. She snarled and then raised the staff to the sky lightening snarled through the now open air as the tent lay around them in ruins. Another bolt struck the staff and arched around her form as her eyes glowed brilliantly blue she slammed her free hand out as energy arched through all the undead that lunged at her two of them turned to nothing but ash as she dispelled the magic that held them. Two of the others lost half of their forms and the last dodged it completely hitting her squarely in the chest and knocking her back.

"Rot in Avernus, you wretched harpy. You're the traitor! I should've seen it from day one...winning a battle, losing one, no matter what though, you survived. I suppose you lost this one on purpose, to please your little garden snake?"

She extended her hand to the creatures neck and pushed back as she screamed. His words echoed in her mind as she snarled the snakes in her other hand bit and coiled their necks about the things head in an attempt to rend it from its body. The other two partially destroyed figures bit into her right leg as she hissed and tilted her head back in agony kicking at them with her other leg. ”LISTEN!.. HE HAS GONE MAD! INSANE! He came to my tent ranting about some snake! Saying I WAS A TRAITOR! HELP! He has GONE MAD! EHHH!” she screamed out as the snakes disentangled the things head from its body the skeleton digging its claws into her rib cage as her voice grew horse from the agony and screams.

All of their forces had gathered about the battle their eyes shocked and dismayed torn between their commanders not sure who’s side to join as they both made accusations and tried to kill each other.. though Diloxi seemed to be loosing... and as the huge beast pulled itself from the ground her end seemed to be all the more near. Some of the mages faithful to her even began to prepare magic as panic filled their expressions. Energy arched through the staff again and coiled about her bloody and broken body. It sliced through the creatures chewing on her and their forms evaporated into ash and embers the magic that summoned them dissolving and dispelling. She gasped and whimpered as she pushed herself to her feet her blue hair suck to her blood soaked form her eyes hard and angry as she looked from Nhil to the beast... then back to Nhil.

”You have not won.. you’re treacherous ways have cost us all the battles we should have won! I bet you are the saboteur that felled the gates today!!.. You! You’re the reason we lost! Everyone of those battles! YOU! AND YOUR GAMES!” she hissed then gasped in agony nearly toppling over. The staff coiled tighter about her body its tail digging into her flesh leaching away her life force in order to feed its power. The huge war beast lunged as she raised the staff towards the creature. ”DON’T LET HIM EXCAPE!! DON’T LET HIM TAKE CONTROL! HE IS THE TRAITOR!” she screamed out with the last bit of strength... her words twisting his in the minds of those around her.. though even still.. even with the power she summoned and even if the entire army attacked the war beast.. it would be too late.. even she knew this.. as the creatures huge mouth opened as it lunged closer to her. She snarled and violet energy exploded from the staff straight down the beasts throat.. the force of the beasts body hitting her even if it died would kill her.. Diloxi was doomed... though it seemed that way from the start of the battle.

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#, as written by Ghaarme
This was it. Victory was within reach, so close he could taste it. Nhil's face was set in a mask of cold determination, nothing would stand in his way. He watched with held breath as the dark elf struggled to ward off the empowered remnants and smirked. How the mighty have fallen...he thought with a sigh. It was something to behold, the normally collected general flailing about and flinging spells with wild abandon with only survival in mind. Nhil quirked an eyebrow, thinking that the general might actually be making some headway against the dark skulls, but it was a futile gesture. One evaded her onslaught and struck the dark elf in the chest. His undead warbeast was gaining on his prey now, it's massive jaws closing around her form. It's over! The traitor is dead! I won-hm?

A sharp pain flowered in Nhil's neck. The next thing he saw was a fine spray of liquid crimson, and the ground rushing up to meet him. With his loss of focus both the remaining remnant and the massive warbeast burst into a cloud of gravedust, coating Diloxi. The rain turned the remains of the undead into a foul smelling mud against her skin. Nhil lay face down in the ruins of her tent, wondering what just happened. His neck streamed hot, steaming blood onto the ground and his vision blurred. A shudder rippled throughout his body, and then Nhil was still. In the rain, captain Nhil Derenthi drew his last breath. It was over, and the necromancer had lost. A single figure stood above Nhil within the rain, shaking the blood off of his wickedly curved blades. A messenger came running out of the gathered crowd calling for a the people to make way.

"M-Mistress Ebon! I'm sorry, I couldn't stop him once he saw the crowd...G-General Liu-Wen has arrived...oh my..." the young elf took in the scene, and immediately called for a healer. Shokunen's present for his little dark elf had been delivered.

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#, as written by Arke
The spy's blood ran thick and hot, running down his blades as he let the body drop. Kneeling down, the figure checked the body and ensured it was a kill. Without standing, a gust of cold, sharp wind blew through the room, wiping his blades clean of the blood that dared contaminate his swords. Withdrawing the blades, the man stood up, and stomped on the back of Nhil with enough force to life the dirt off his clothes. Blood gushed out, the dirt greedily absorbing it into the ground as the life blood drained from the body of the former necromancer. The blood flow then slowed, and stopped. It didn't stop the body from leaving a thick pool of blood flowing toward General Ebon.

With one hand, General Fong, Liu-Wen lifted the man off the ground, and hoisted it over his back. His empty, cold black eyes bored into the frightened General. "You will explain yourself when I get back." He said, the words cutting deep and seemingly freezing the air around it as onlookers shivered. He exited the tent, his traditional chang-shan flowing silently behind him.

The mass of eyes staring at the body of Lieutenant Nhil as he passed seemed to gain a light of it's own. The general of the human armies paid no mind to them, as they were simply soldiers that were completely ignorant and incompetent to what was going on. Luckily, the camp was situated by the river, so he could dispose of this filth of a Lieutenant as quickly as possible. He walked slowly, showing what happened to traitors to the cause. He had received word of an enemy spy lurking among the ranks, aiming to take the head of the Dark Elf. He had arrived just in time, the utter idiots that were under Ebon's command failing to act. He would have them all flogged later.

Reaching the river, the corpse of Nhil was unceremoniously dropped onto the banks. The quiet general looked at the body, the lifeless eyes of Nhil staring into the sky, taking all his secrets with him. A shame. It would have paid to interrogate him. He kicked the body once, and it rolled into the river where it was washed away to be forgotten forever. Turning, he noticed that many of the soldiers had come to watch him.

"You pieces of trash should have something better to do than watch me complete official business." He said tonelessly, his eyes radiating nothing but contempt. "If you all do not scatter in five seconds, I will personally have you all flogged until the whites of your spine show on your bodies." He raised a finger. One. They were all already gone.

Now, to deal with the failures of General Ebon. He moved back toward the tent, or what remained of it, noticing the crowd was still intact and rushing about. "I do believe that there is nothing to see here." Said Fong, his voice cutting through even the loudest of conversations. "Get out of here. You're all lucky I do not have time to punish each and every one of you." The crowd scattered quickly, leaving Fong and Diloxi alone. He said nothing to her, but his frozen, dark eyes gave all the words he could have possibly needed.

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#, as written by Neava13
"I see i've piqued your interest, little one. But my love bites aren't really your buiness."

His face close to hers didn’t seem to make her nervous her weary eyes taking in his bone structure his scars and his odd reptilian eyes. The eyes fetched a wonderful price in civilized cities as a needed component in many potions to alter physical abilities. It was yet another reason that the Lamia hated the civilized countries. He seemed to be searching for something in her face and it caused her to look at him with a bright curiosity, then he whispered and her features grew grey.


"Nhil is about to die."

Her eyes went wide as fear slid through her expression before he could even turn her body disappeared in a flash of light she found herself dropped in the centre of her tent one of the chairs in the corner of the chaotic space had been pulled out farther then she remembered leaving it. Nhil had to be close, he had to still be alive right? She could warn him and protect him from whatever the Lamia had sent against him. She ran out into the rain swept camp people began to disperse in a hurried fashion as she looked around frantically. She pulled her book out of her robes and dodged under the edge of a tent her eyes scanning through the pages for the spell she needed. She cursed and then took a deep breath as the pen slid from her pocket and began writing. Her eyes scanned over the words as it was written.

“Reaching the river, the corpse of Nhil was unceremoniously dropped onto the banks. The quiet general looked at the body, the lifeless eyes of Nhil staring into the sky, taking all his secrets with him. A shame. It would have paid to interrogate him. He kicked the body once, and it rolled into the river where it was washed away to be forg..”

”NOOO! NHIL! NO!” she screamed out in the darkness and hugged the book to her the pen slid back in her pocket she dashed under the legs of fleeing soldiers as she made her way to the river, her form drenched with mud and water. She looked over the black waters seeing nothing in the darkness as tears streamed down her face. ”NHIL!!” she bellowed as she looked down the flow, she could see a form bobbing in the dark waters and she dropped the book in her robes and ran down the bank sliding along the mud before she slid into the icey waters and yelped in surprise. Her small form was easily carried down the stream and she swam forward towards the form. It wasn’t long before she came up beside Nhil’s lifeless corps as the waters threatened to swallow him and her both, after a lot of fighting and swallowing water she pushed herself to shore and pulled him so he wouldn’t float away. The rain had stopped and she gasped curling up next to him on the banks and pulling his hair from his face and smiling.

”I forgot to tell you.. I forgot to tell you about the new spell I learned.. and.. about the spells.. why didn’t I keep Bob with you.. he would have kept you safe.. I made him for you.. but.. I’m sorry I took him with me.. I knew I was fine.. now he is scrap.. just like you.. spare parts.” She leaned her face against his cheek and smiled brightly tears rolling from her face as she snuggled close and wrapped her arms around his dead form. ”I didn’t tell you how beautiful your eyes are.. or how powerful a necromancer you are.. there is no equal.. none.. you are one of a kind.. I love you Nhil.. I’m sorry.. I forgot to tell you.. I always was distracted.. but.. now you know.. I’m sorry it took me so long.. and I love you Nhil.. do you hear me? Hmm? I hope so.. it’s ok.. I’ll burn you.. like you wanted.. I’ll make sure that you can’t come back.. you’ll be able to rest.. its ok.. I’ll miss you.” she gently grabbed his face with her small hands as she pressed her lips to his cold dead lips.. she then broke down into sobs that were hidden by the sound of the brook that had become a full river from the strong rain. She buried her face against his chest her hands knotting against his flesh as she cried in agony and regret.. for the first time in her life Miralight cried.

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Dukald was still lost...severely. First those two were fighting, which ended up in him getting a tad charred, saved by his flameproof battlecoat, and then shocked! He had droped to the ground, convulsing lightly after the shock, before he leaned forward again. His hair and beard were poofed out and at ends, and his green eyes were wide as saucers. "By a goblin's greed, whot in the HELL is goin' on!?" First dead, then death, then...catastrophy! It was all chaos broken loose.... and then some!

Apperently, after the drawn out battle, the man had been killed another man. But Dukald was completely confused and lost. They both screamed traitor at each other, before he was killed...and honestly, he kinda believed that guy more...because the woman was...freaky. But he couldn't argue with the results.... And by everything that had been happening around him, he was still shocked.

But the new man came on the scene, apperently on cleanup.After he killed the man, he took the corpse away, and left the dwarven man with this witch...whom he could safely say he had a fear of. But the damned stuborn courage.... He awaited for the man to return, and dismissed them. "N-now wait jus' a damned minute! I'm still needin' to report to a General 'ere! I have message from Commander Grashstone o' the Iron Mountains o' the North!" He would state. Not that it would make any difference. This high and mighty General controlled everything. He could do anything he wanted. He knew he was probably going to shout some sort of threat to him, but it didn't matter. Orders were orders.

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#, as written by Neava13
As the creature fell to ash before her she collapsed to her knees the snake slithering from the skin at her back and falling from her arm as it once again returned to a long wood staff. Her hands sunk into the turned earth as she took a deep breath blood dripping from her body in so many places she looked like she should be dead. Her eyes slid to the side as she saw Nhil’s body face down in the ground that she now rested on as well. She had taken too much risk not calling the rest of her power.. it had almost killed her.. but it had worked.. she was free of the man she hated, and vindicated in the eyes of those in the army. She could lead them to victory now.. she could decimate every army with them confidently marching behind her.

Her secrets were safe. General Fong told her he would return and she nodded, ”Yes Sir I will be right here.” she gasped her voice barely a whisper as several people came from the crowd helping her to a cot that was brought out several others pulled a spare tent and erected it over the place the last stood to shield her from the rain that continued to drench the area. Darkness threatened to overtake her vision as she curled up on the cot letting them bandage and stitch her wounds as the tent was finished and a fire within it lit. Her personal servants went about cleaning the blood and burnt wreckage from the room as the medics cleaned her wounds and gave her herbs as well as spells for the pain, most of the wounds were able to be closed by spell, though only one of the medical mages stayed when the General walked into her tent. She was covered in a blanket with a mage at her side whispering incantations as she closed a rather nasty looking bite over Diloxi's shoulder.

She heard the General’s voice and she sat up blinking a couple times to let her vision clear as he made his way inside causing the servants to scatter in every which way. Diloxi watched him with her pale blue eyes for a long minute as blood still caked her hair to her small frame at various places. ”He came to my tent raving about some snake.. that I was having a relation with a.. a Lamia… maybe? I don’t know.. I wish you hadn’t of killed him Fong.. truly!.. His behavior makes me wonder if he was under some spell or something.. I don’t know.. maybe Miralight will be able to tell us more about his behavior lately.” Her tone sounded confused and her eyes slid to the ground as she thought through what she was saying seeming surprised. ”I should have fought him harder.. I was just so surprised.. we never had a good relationship.. but he never outright attacked me.. never!.. I wasn’t sure what to do really.. There was.. .actually.” her eyes slid to the dwarf that seemed so utterly insistent not far away she had not paid his words any attention because she was to report to the General not to him.

”That Dwarf was here and saw the whole thing.. he acted like he was on something.. or delusional.. I don’t know.. it really confused me horribly.” she curled a bit tighter at the side of the cot and groaned uncomfortably as she paled slightly. The mage at her side frowned and looked at the General,

“Sir.. her body has been through a great deal.. we should let her rest.. you can question her on the marrow.” The mage slid her hand over Diloxi’s side and helped her to lay down again as her magic coiled back at the various wounds focusing more on the parts where her flesh actually hung off of her body in chunks. It was a wonder the woman was awake at all, it spoke volumes of her physical endurance and strength. Her pale eyes looked troubled as she looked at the general her emotions would appear genuine enough then as she spoke once again, she looked upset and even more disturbed.

”I won’t let someone catch me by surprise again… the loss in the battle today.. and this tonight.. I claim responsibility for it.. totally.. please do not take it out on my men.” She grunted as she paled and the mage frowned looking up at General Fong reproachfully as if wanting him to leave so he wouldn’t stress her patient.

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#, as written by Zareth
Zareth lay on his back, spread eagle. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming or awake, but he was completely sure that he was alive. He attempted to piece the current events back together. The deep human goes into the tent, and then, before either I or that dwarf know anything, a magical battle ensues. The Necromancer, seemed on the verge of victory, but some other man came and finished him off. Shit. Nobody knows who's their own allies then...Great...

Zareth attempted to sit up, but could not. Straining, he tried to rise again, but could not. He suddenly felt as if he was sinking, and he saw himself dissolving into the shadows below him. Behind the mask, his eyes grew wide with astonishment and fear. The shadows beneath him seemed to be swirling, like a whirlpool, slowly sucking him into the ground. He attempted to cry for help, but a thick, heavy band of shadow crossed his mouth, and all that escaped was a muffled yelp. As his head was about to go underground, he saw an eye, staring at him from the shadows. One singular, blood-red eye. And as his head finally sank into the shadows, he heard a voice calling to him.

"You.....are........MINE........."

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#, as written by Ikiriz
She watched him rush away from the scene and tensed a bit. Her footsteps were light and barely made a hole in the wet mud as she moved next to the man. She watched the footsteps of the giant being filled with water and blood and again a morbid picture of what the underworld must look like came to mind. Her eyes wandered to the body of the bleeding man and she bent down to examine him. She had no idea how to mend a wound, let alone a broken hand, but at least he seemed to be alive She doubted he would have any luck using the hand again however. She frowned as water blurred her vision and silently cursed the weather that made it so damn uncomfortable to travel. Sure it made for a good cover to hide from the enemy,but that was hardly needed now. She got on her feet again and walked in between the tents to see if she could find someone able to do more then her. That wasn’t too difficult, since the camp was full of people tending to other wounded people, checking up on them. She send one of them to the place the man with the crushed hand had been and continued on to find someone who could assist her.

After a while she found a rather large tent with a smell of food coming out of it. Her stomach growled at her and she was dripping wet. She let out a deep sigh and her muscles suddenly seemed more sore then they were just minutes ago. It was like her body reacted to the thought of food and sleep. She squeezed the water out of her cape and hair and went inside the tent. She touched the shoulder of a soldier inside the tent to get his attention “Excuse me, I am looking to be hired, who do I need to talk to and where can I find him?” The man looked at her and shrugged “I don’t know where they are right now, we’ve just gotten out of a big battle, I am pretty sure they are busy right now. Perhaps you can see them in the morning.” His eyes went from her face to the puddle of water at her feet. “You look like a drowned rat, why don’t you sit down and I’ll get you something to eat.” She smiled “Thank you, that would be most appreciated.” She placed her backpack and staff beside a cushion and sat down with crossed legs. When the bowl of soup came she accepted with gratitude and began eating, thankful that it was hot and able to give her a feeling of being alive again, not caring if water dripping from her hair was thinning it.

She was almost done and feeling quite comfortable, when she heard commotion in the camp. Something had stirred people up, but not enough to get people to arms apparently. She looked at the people inside the tent and raised an eyebrow, waiting to see how they reacted to this. They seemed a bit curious themselves but only a few went outside to see what it was about. She moved to the entrance of the tent and stared out, not wanting to go outside in the rain again when she was just beginning to get dry.

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#, as written by Arke
The impassive General listened without interruption to the Dark Elf's rambling. His eyes remained as cold and dull as when he had first saw her, no hint of sympathy as he observed her grievous wounds. Slowly, Nhil's blood was siphoned off the ground by one of the mages so he could step forward without dirtying himself in the filth of the traitor's blood. And to listen closely. The first words were the most important, even if they were scrambled and incoherent. Suddenly, the dwarven bear rider interrupted rudely, causing Fong to raise a hand to silence Ebon for the moment, before turning to him.

"N-now wait jus' a damned minute! I'm still needin' to report to a General 'ere! I have message from Commander Grashstone o' the Iron Mountains o' the North!" He had said. Fong looked back at him with eyes that seemed to radiate hostile disdain.

"I see, dwarf. However, if you wanted to report to the General here, why were you sitting around and gawking while she was getting killed? If your message is so important, your worthless hide would have interrupted the battle to stop the man from killing her, traitor or no traitor. Your report can wait a little while longer, mongrel, because apparently you can sit there and watch an assassination attempt on the person you were supposed to report to but you can't wait until she's finished relaying some very important information to me! Wait a dear moment, trash, you will report what you have to say to me when I am finished!" He said sharply, his eyes kindling a low ember that seemed to make him all the more threatening. Without waiting for a response, he turned back and let Ebon continue speaking.

Once again, however, her report was interrupted again by the healer. General Fong stopped her again, turning his ice-cold wrath on the mage now.

“Sir.. her body has been through a great deal.. we should let her rest.. you can question her on the morrow.” She said, her heart in the right place, but saying it to the wrong person at the wrong time.

"I will not, healer. In all respect, I suggest you keep your mouth shut. You do not know as much about interrogation as I, and these moments are the most important, as you failed to see. You shall shut up, and do your job before I give you fifty lashes for insubordination!" He snarled.

Finally, he listened to the last words of Ebon's excuse. ”I won’t let someone catch me by surprise again… the loss in the battle today.. and this tonight.. I claim responsibility for it.. totally.. please do not take it out on my men.”

The healer then frowned at Fong, something Fong completely ignored. He nodded once, and replied calmly to Diloxi.

"Very well, General. If you claim full responsibility for your actions, you know the consequences. Because of your earlier failures, and your incompetent security that nearly had you killed, tommorow in the afternoon you will be flogged in front of your entire army as stated by seventeenth decree of warfare. I expect to see you there, or you will receive a formal discharge from this army."

Without waiting for a response, General Fong, Liu-Wen turned and left the premises, not before looking at the dwarf coldly. "You will report to my tent and make your report there. Or, you will wait until General Ebon is finished with her flogging and has completely recuperated. It is your choice, seeing how you lack the knowledge about the definition of 'urgent'." He said.

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#, as written by Neava13
"Very well, General. If you claim full responsibility for your actions, you know the consequences. Because of your earlier failures, and your incompetent security that nearly had you killed, tomorrow in the afternoon you will be flogged in front of your entire army as stated by seventeenth decree of warfare. I expect to see you there, or you will receive a formal discharge from this army."

She felt better at this.. she expected something worse, though General Fong was not one to flog anyone lightly.. she was sure she would be broken and bloodied by the time he was finished.. though she was not sure if he would be the one delivering the sentence or if it would be one of her own soldiers... she almost hoped for one of her own. Most of them thought her frail and she doubted they would treat her too harshly especially after they witnessed her being eaten alive. That was pain.... the thought of it made her insides turn and fear beyond measure touch her mind. It was the most horrible death she could ever imagine.

”Yes, Sir.. I will be there.” Her eyes slid from him and closed as the warm itching feeling of the healers magic slid over her form. She would be there and she would take the beating with strength.. after all.. it couldn’t be worse then being eaten alive.. could it? The image of the blackened skull biting at her face as two others tore at her legs haunted her mind as she drifted off to sleep. Darkness clouded her mind.. then images of things moving in the darkness.. twisted rotten things coiling about her holding her close and then feasting on her flesh the pain was there but it was different.. it was brutal and horrible.. but it was numbed.. numbed enough she could watch as they ripped out her intestines and devoured it. All the while Nhil watched from the darkness his pale skin glowing in the sea of black writhing flesh. A smug smile on his lips.. the same smile he always wore when she was failing at something.. like he knew something she didn't.. he always was an ignorant fool she normaly wanted to laugh back in his face.. but this time.. he knew.. he knew more then her as she begged for him to call them off.

Fear was not something that came easy, but this dream.. this nightmare made her entire body tremble. She understood Sho’s hatred of the undead, his fear of them.. she understood his distain.. in truth.. she was terrified of them now as well. Her attendant slid her hands about Diloxi’s shoulders gently.

“Mistress.. Mistress it is time to wake.”

Diloxi sat up in her cot and screamed in terror.. her form drenched in sweat as she pulled the blankets to her breasts gasping. Her eyes darted around as Mia, her attendant, slid a hand against her back. Diloxi snarled and pushed her hand away, ”Don’t touch me!” she hissed the woman stepped back a bit startled then looked at General Ebon with wide red eyes.

“Mistress.. you are safe.. it was only a dream.”
She was right.. it was only a dream.. just a dream.. and it would never happen again.. Diloxi would never again risk dying that way.. she would kill herself long before she was eaten again.

”Yes.. your right sorry Mia.. give me a moment.” she gasped her eyes turning up to her servant and forcing a smile. The attendant bowed and walked out of her now smaller tent as gentle rays of sun filtered through the bottom edges of her colourful pavilion.

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#, as written by Arke
The General's tent was of a modest size, a dull and pale color like most others. The only difference that marked it as unique was the large flag that signified that it was the General's tent. The Flag was adorned a simple silver with large black strokes that came together to form a single word in the arcane language: "Wind". As his famous status as the Icy Gust of the Human Army, General Fong Liu-Wen made no attempt to further his fame, but rather found it annoying and hindering to his work. With his iron fist, he commanded the Human race's armies, leading them to do feats not even the elves could perform due to the adaptability of the humans. Known only by his peers as "General Fong," little was known about the cruel leader and his odd tastes.

On one side of the tent lay an array of exotic weaponry, ranging from curved Chakrams to elegant Rapiers. A whetstone sat beside the small armory, worn with use. Beside it, a wooden training post, deep indents where the General had been training with it for the past few years. On the opposite side of the wall was a stark contrast to the weaponry, a more scholarly approach was taken. The entire opposite wall was lined with scrolls, parchments, and books. A large bookcase was arranged with various texts of wind magic and martial arts booklets, a fairly valuable set of books obtained and read through by the General. The man himself stood by the bookcase, reading a small slip of parchment stating that his right-hand men were off attending to discipline the troops after the event with Nhil.

He tossed the paper away, and within seconds, pressurized slashes of wind destroyed the paper. He picked out a small novel from the bookcase, a personal, prized possession of Fong's called "Mists of Illera". As he looked at it, he heard the Dwarf make an announcement and arrive. The General shoved the book into his clothing, into a pocket under his robes. Regarding the dwarf with a neutral expression, his dull eyes nodded as he made his way over to the desk. The papers that lined his wooden table were piling up, full of reports and up-to-date notes on what was going on in the camp. He neatly pushed them aside, picking up one of the papers.

"I apologize for my tone of voice earlier, Dwarf." He said, realizing he had not heard the dwarf's name before. "I was... angry at my ally's failure, and I'm afraid I might have let it get the better of me." His voice did not sound sorry at all, but then again it was rare to find the General expressing some form of emotion other than neutrality, contempt, and cold anger. He finished scanning the report, destroying the evidence by letting the paper fall and be cut up by the air. He pulled a fresh piece of parchment from his desk, as well as a bottle of ink and a pen. Sitting down, he began writing something hastily.

"Name and rank, sir?" He asked shortly, his eyes looking up to give the Dukald as his pen flew across the parchment, quickly dipping it in the ink once the pen had run dry to continue.

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"Dukald Garfathen, Sergeant, Sir." The dwarven man dropped his salute, but kept his attention. Well...okay, maybe he's not all bad. He sure don't seem sorry, bu' tha's just like the dwarves.Gotta maintain tha' threat'nin attitude, or we get walked on. "I come bearin' tha news of reinforcements coming to aid you, as well as sorts o' supplies. Commander Grashstone appologizes fer his lack of "grand aid" o' late. He sends my unit, tha First ta aid you, as well as a few other ranks of phalanx and crossbowmen. We are tha First Bear Calvalry Division, Sir. Half a battalion strong. We'll make 'em regret even thinkin' about their shield wall formations an' we'll make a mockery of even tha best Spider and Worg Riders! He said, grinning. He was probably getting out of hand, but he was proud to announce his force. "The dwarves also wish ta contribute seige weapons; we send few catapaults, battlewagons, an' battering rams, though they were not sent with thus reinforcement, they shall be 'ere within a few days at most, but I shall let Grashstone talk ta ya himself when he arrives personally here, as he requested. He rode with our unit. I volunteered to ride ahead o' them to relay to you, so you know tha' we're friendly. After all, i's not every day ya see five hundred bears marchin' towards yer camp now, do'ya?" He said with another grin.

"Also Sir. My appologies. I should've acted faster in response to the situation. But in my defense, Sir, I was told to report to "A General". I was unfamiliar with whom the General was. However, that is my fault as well, and is no excuse. As...for what I saw, I cannot say what exactly happened, but I walked in to find the man and the General socializing, I suppose. They began fighting as soon as the man said something along the lines of wanting to speak with her alone. I respect a fella's wants, so I start to leave, as befer I'm even out o' the tent, he starts summonin' these things ta attack 'er!" He stopped after that, figuring that was all he needed to tell. He kept his attention, and waited to see how the man would respond.

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#, as written by Ghaarme
The night dragged on for a small eternity, an eerie unrest spreading throughout the camp of not only general Fong's arrival but captain Nhil's death. most found it hard to believe the level-headed loyalist necromancer to be a traitor to the cause, but then again, most people never expect things from certain indivuiduals...and that's what makes it so easy. Eventually the pockets of sporadic gossiping soldiers dispersed to return to their tents for sleep. Soon enough, the first golden rays of sunlight peeked over the horizon to bathe the camp in the calm radiance of morning. A pair of dark elves strolled through the center of the Civil encampent arguing over their next course of action.

"Melianth..." the shorter of the two said, an edge apparent in his tone.

"Belsius..." the taller said, smiling and adding a musical ring to his brother's name.

Belsius, the smaller and elder of the Avaran brothers scowled up at Melianth and shook his head for the hundreth time that morning. They had been going at it for quite some time on whether to inform general Fong of their presence immediately or go to general Ebon to request reassignment. Melianth, being the younger and more foolhardy of the two, voted that they should head directly to Diloxi Ebon. Not because he wanted to be reassigned, but simply because he had been informed that the queen of dark elves had quite the figure. Belsius, on the other hand, tugged a strand of his brother's long hair in disapproval. He demanded that they inform general Fong of their arrival at once, so their assignments and posts could be assigned and resumed.

"Melianth, don't be foolish. Fong had you whipped the last time your disobeyed a direct order for some...what is it you're always saying to refer to the farer sex?" Bel asked quizzicaly.

"Ass." the younger replied with a grin.

"Ah. How eloquent. Well, I take it you recall the twenty-five lashings you got for seducing that dwarvish lass into your bedroll instead of performing the nightwatch, correct?"

The taller of the brothers grew silent, though his grin widened. Belsius sighed and shook his head. The younger Avaran was most likely recalling each and every lewd detail before his punishment, disregarding the pain totally. After a few more minutes of talking, the pair agreed that Belsius would meet with the general about assignment and Melianth would...do whatever he wanted. The elder Avaran merely wanted him out of his hair for a while. While the cleric continued on to general Fong's tent, Melianth roamed the camp. His crimson orbs scanned the tents to find several soldiers stirring, as well as a multitude of nightwatch troops returning to bed. The large river just past the camp caught his eye though, and a small makeshift pire just on the bank immediately pormpted the inquisitive dark elf to jog up to the rushing water. A single diminutive figure drew his attention, standing over the pile of wood. Looking closely, he could see a falsh of bone white skin just beneath the kindling. The halfling was rather sullen looking, and Melianth approached her slowly.

"Greetings, fare maiden! Um...why do you look like someone speared your horse?"

On the other side of camp, Belsius came to a halt at the entrance of general Fong's tent. Clearing his throat, the elder dark elf captain announced himself in a cordial manner. "Captain Belsius Avaran reporting, sir! I also come to report captain Melianth Avaran's arrival as well! We have successfully taken command over the western plains, and are reporting as ordered. May I come in sir?"