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Techno-Engineer Glixenheimer Jibbnoticous

The three foot five, fifty three pound, white haired little man that is Techno-Engineering Assassin Glixenheimer Bolargian Jibbnoticous. Seems a bit eccentric, and usually has a number of devices on his person.

0 · 438 views · located in Mountain Path

a character in “The Multiverse”, as played by Nachytsm

Description

He's short, light, has white hair that sticks out like wings from the side of his otherwise bald head, a slight beard and a long mustache, and that's all there it to his average appearance; but he is quite above average, in appearance if nothing else. Goggles almost always adorn his face with an oil-soaked headband, a pair of wrenches resting on his hips. The rest of his outfit is largely comprised of leather, with modifications made here or there.

Personality

Quite simply, Eccentric!

So begins...

Techno-Engineer Glixenheimer Jibbnoticous's Story

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Curtana Lierre Character Portrait: Dhaelhel Character Portrait: Jarlas Fraiture Character Portrait: Al'Kaera Character Portrait: Nachytsm Character Portrait: Maree Lumaria
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#, as written by Jarlas
Jarlas was nearly floored by the man suddenly charging him and getting all up in his business, declaring him an undead fiend and other such horrible names. Fiend he was, but undead, that was just cruel. "Now hold on..." He pauses, completely blown off. He turns to watch him walk off, all sorts of bothered about it, but then he sees Al'Kaera.

"Aderas! You son of a horrible thing, you! I was-" he pauses when Dhaelhel is revealed. He... pauses, again. Jarlas wasn't sure what to think of that, though Curtana's crestfallen surprise spurs him into action. Flitting back to her with all the grace his dead rogue's body could muster, he kneels next to her and places a hand comfortingly nearby. Unlike a certain fallen God/ess, Jarlas had his priorities straight.

"There there," he says in a comforting tone, "You got me," he adds, then flicks his hand. "When I'm alive, anyways. And speaking of..." He looks back towards Al'Kaera, his eyes gleaming when he spots the man's bow.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Curtana Lierre Character Portrait: Dhaelhel Character Portrait: Jarlas Fraiture Character Portrait: Al'Kaera Character Portrait: Nachytsm Character Portrait: Maree Lumaria
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Molko simply nods to Al'Kaera's statements as to their coming march. He had already made preparations; a Quartermaster he was not, but Molko knew his way around a war camp. Even if this wasn't so much one of those, he could pretend.

Turning away from the proceedings of which he knew nothing- namely, all this strange talk between the Elf woman and the... winged Man, he turns his attention on Jarlas. Marching forward, he shouts. "Ach, yeh bloo'y Bastard! Yeh know be'er than teh use 'is name durin' a time o' War! 'Is enemies coul' be anywhere, an' if 'e dies it'll be on yer 'ead!"

Seeing that Jarlas was sufficiently reprimanded, he then turns to Curtana, bowing extravagantly in Dwarven fashion. "Molko Firestorm, lass, at yeh're service. M'pologies fer tha tone t'wards this fellow 'ere," he says, jerking a thumb towards Jarlas. "E's a bit daft a' times."

----

Nachytsm was silent now that Al'Kaera had expressed no need for assistance. He simply watches, waits. Molko was off reprimanding Jarlas and introducing himself, and-

Introductions! That's what he'd forgotten.

"Nachytsm," he says, walking next to Aderas and staring directly at Dhaelhel.

The man was speaking to his master's wife (he assumed), and thus, speaking to his Master. While he would normally wait for introductions to be made for him, he felt it necessary to make it known ahead of time.


----

Glixenheimer was adding the finishing touches on the meal by this point, and had bustled back into his building to gather a few plates. By the time he had come back, it was finished.

"Breakingofthefast, Ladilikes and Gentleishfolk!" He announces, looking around to see if anyone was paying attention in the slightest.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Curtana Lierre Character Portrait: Dhaelhel Character Portrait: Jarlas Fraiture Character Portrait: Al'Kaera Character Portrait: Nachytsm Character Portrait: Maree Lumaria
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#, as written by Aderas
It was a lot to take in, all the goings on in the camp. Al'Kaera was used to the constant bustle of a war camp, of course, but it had been what felt a lifetime since they last rode out.

The most immediate concern was Maree and Dhaelhel's conversation, however. He was surprised to see the woman changed into a man, though it was not the strangest thing. Stranger than that was his and Jarlas' seeming competition over Curtana. He would need to put a stop to that, more than likely. And then this talk of children...

"Nachytsm," comes the gruff, deep voice of his Bodyguard. Turning slightly, he manages a smile. "Maree," he says softly, "This is my most loyal bodyguard, Nachytsm Encaitar." He smiles up at the larger man, then down to Maree. "He will guard your life as surely as he has mine. But," he says, the curious words of Dhaelhel coming back to him. "Dhaelhel seems to have some interesting notions as to our relationship," he says with some mild amusement.

It wasn't that he did not find her attractive, of course; simply that there seemed more important things at hand than procreation.

"I'll introduce you to the rest of the war party later. For now, we have to prepare for what is ahead, and make plans. Where would you like me to bring you? I have a tent ready if you would like to sit."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Curtana Lierre Character Portrait: Dhaelhel Character Portrait: Jarlas Fraiture Character Portrait: Al'Kaera Character Portrait: Nachytsm Character Portrait: Maree Lumaria
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#, as written by Maree
Dhaelhel as a female was strong. Dhaelhel as a male, with his rippling pectorals and huge biceps, was extremely strong. He instantly made way to Jarlas who was standing far too close to Curtana. Dhaelhel picked him up by the scruff of his neck with one hand and deposited the strange elf several feet away from Curtana. The look he gave to Jarlas was deadly.

"Nachytsm Encaitar, I would introduce myself properly to you but I am indisposed," Maree said. "I am Maree Erd Lumariale, your Al'Kaera's wife. And I would like to stand. I am strong enough to stand. It is my eyes that do not work, Aderas."

"As for Dhaelhel, he is a god. Not only a god but a goddess too. Two entities in one body. There are complications with Dhaelhel's personality that we must endure. We may be immortal but we are no part of a pantheon. We cannot begin to grasp the natures of gods and goddesses," spoke Maree.

Dhaelhel was busying attempting to ask Curtana is she was hungry. Seeing Al'Kaera holding Maree gave the fallen god a bad idea. He scooped up the girl in his arms and started carrying her around without even asking her permission. Gods were never creatures to need permission from anything or anyone. They always merely indulged themselves in whatever their desires.

"Curtana," Dhaelhel said. "We must get Al'Kaera and Maree to make a child. This is very important. We must be ever vigilant and force them if we must to create a child. Also, we should make one for you in case. Nothing is ever certain and you need all the protection a child can offer from Naar."

"Dhaelhel. Put her down," Maree called to the fallen god. Her ears were as keen as ever, if not more. Dhaelhel put down the elf girl and grumbled, crossing his arms across his expansive chest. He was like a child throwing a tantrum.

"Aderas, shall we all eat and regain our strength? We must all gather in order for Dhaelhel and I to explain what it is that is happening here on Terra," Maree said to him, fumbling to find his cheek so that she may rest it in her hand.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Curtana Lierre Character Portrait: Dhaelhel Character Portrait: Jarlas Fraiture Character Portrait: Al'Kaera Character Portrait: Nachytsm Character Portrait: Maree Lumaria
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#, as written by Knosis
Curtana blinked, her face going fully red, but now it was obviously in anger instead. She wanted to grab something and beat Dhaelhel over the head with it over and over. How dare she-- he, whatever IT was-- wake Curtana up in such a manner only to shatter her heart! And to top it off, the former god/goddess seemed to be jealous of Jarlas.

So Curtana got up and trotted over to Jarlas, wrapping her arms around his one and cuddled after Dhaelhel put her down. "It's not my business if Lady Maree or Lord Al'Kaera decide to have a child. It I don't want a child! I'm still young enough to be considered a child in most elven societies!" She grumbled at Dhaelhel. "I wanna have my own life before I even consider getting hitched and settling down. You know how hard it is to travel with a child? Well, he wasn't a child, but he had the mind set of one and let me tell you, he was not very easy to travel with."

Ruffled as the woman was, it would take some time for the half elf to blow off steam. So instead, she would cuddle up to Jarlas and snuggle just to ruffle Dhaelhel's feathers right back.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Curtana Lierre Character Portrait: Dhaelhel Character Portrait: Jarlas Fraiture Character Portrait: Al'Kaera Character Portrait: Nachytsm Character Portrait: Maree Lumaria
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#, as written by Jarlas
Jarlas hadn't really given much thought to using Aderas' Warname. The war was over, so far as he was concerned, them all being here and whatnot. "I'll call 'im what I want, hairy monster," he cries out to Molko. He didn't care much about the call to breakfast, given he only ever craved brains as sustainance, but he'd gotten around that.

No, his immediate concerns were brought up by the joint efforts of He-Man and Curtana.

Namely, Dhaelhel had physically removed him from a ten foot square radius of Curtana, and gave him a look of death. After being placed down, gentle as you please, Jarlas returns the glare. "What's the big idea..." but, too late. Already he was trotting about like he owned Curtana, talking about impregnating people.

Fortunately for him, that's not what women like to hear! Unfortunately for him, Curtana- in a show of her utter and undeniable attraction to him- had come and wrapped herself around his arm, pressing close.

Jarlas lets out the slightest sigh of disappointment. He was still dead, after all, and so he wouldn't be able to feel the warmth of her arms wrapped around him. It was odd how much he missed the less interesting aspects of being alive, sometimes.

He focuses his attention on Dhaelhel, giving him a mixed look of mock-helplessness and 'bring-it-on-you-silly-winged-bastard'. Then, he smiles warmly (as much as he could, dead as he was) down at Curtana, then speaks in a cool, silky sweet tone. "Why don't you get some breakfast. Shorty over there's a great cook." He was so in when he had blood again.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Curtana Lierre Character Portrait: Dhaelhel Character Portrait: Jarlas Fraiture Character Portrait: Al'Kaera Character Portrait: Nachytsm Character Portrait: Maree Lumaria
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Molko huffs at being more or less blown off by the shameful excuse of a Dwarf. "If yeh 'ad a lick o' decency in yeh, yeh'd..." he pauses, seeing Dhaelhel extricate Jarlas from the premises. He would have made introductions, but given there seemed to be some severe animosity between Jarlas and one of their new companions, he felt it would soon be his duty to act as peacekeeper.

For now, however, breakfast beckoned.

Marching over to the campfire, Molko pulls up a stool that seemed to be there specifically crafted for him- a small stone-and-wood throne, having appeared within the night like the buildings. There were several custom-made chairs there, in fact; a little bench that Glixenheimer stat on, a comfortable, almost luxurious looking throne of wood with leafy cushioning, and a simple slab of rock next to that.

He knew from long experience that waiting for their Lord would be prudent, so instead he starts dishing out even portions- with a slightly larger amount for Al'Kaera, Maree and Curtana- and placing them around the fire to keep them warm. "Ai, Glixen'eimer, conjure up a couple more chairs, eh?"

-----

After successfully introducing himself- he had decided it wouldn't be a good idea to add a handshake to it- Nachytsm goes back to silence. He had caught, and even slightly understood Maree's words regarding Dhaelhel. He would have to be careful of that one. Killing a God seemed like it might have some repercussions for his Lord, so he would need to try and avoid that. He stays by Al'Kaera's side, ready and alert as always.

-----

Glixenheimer was fixing his own plate when Molko had come over. Peering around, he frowns slightly behind the massive goggles he was wearing. "No-one else is interested in masticating?" Shaking his head, he looks back toward Molko. "Oh, indubitoublicitous!" Taking a metal rod from his belt- not unlike the one Jarlas had left and was now in Molko's possession- Glixenheimer takes a quick look at the three occupants who had no chairs, and then prods a couple unseen buttons on the thing.

"Chair five, Chair seven, Chair two-two," he says, pointing to three locations around the fire. On one, next to Al'Kaera, a chair had suddenly erupted much like Al'Kaera's own. Apparently, this was to be Maree's seat.

Next to the stone slab, something like a lump of some gelatinous material had appeared. Frowning at his device, he shrugs; it was still comfortable, even if it wasn't likely preferred by Elves.

The last 'seat' was a nest of hay and twigs. Perhaps the well-meaning Gnome had misinterpreted what Dhaelhel actually was, but he seemed to think that would suffice as a seating arrangement for the man.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Curtana Lierre Character Portrait: Dhaelhel Character Portrait: Jarlas Fraiture Character Portrait: Al'Kaera Character Portrait: Nachytsm Character Portrait: Maree Lumaria
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#, as written by Aderas
Al'Kaera helps Maree find his cheek, before quickly setting her down, gently placing a hand on her lower back to ease her descent to her feet. He stays close to her, holding a hand softly in his own to act as a guide. He could forget about the goings-on around the camp for now. Nodding in acquiescence to her request, he brings them towards the fire, Nachytsm likely right at his heels.

Once there, he helps her into the chair his men had dutifully set up for her, before seating himself. Looking around the camp, he clears his throat, the speaks in a firm, authoritative tone; "Legionnaires! We convene, now, for War Conference." He seldom made proper demands of his men, but he needed to gain the attentions of Jarlas, if nothing else. Dhaelhel and Curtana would need to be herded over as well, if they didn't follow now.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Curtana Lierre Character Portrait: Dhaelhel Character Portrait: Jarlas Fraiture Character Portrait: Al'Kaera Character Portrait: Nachytsm Character Portrait: Maree Lumaria
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#, as written by Maree
Dhaelhel looked broken at Curtana's reaction. He did not mean to upset her and it was all good intention to keep her safe that Dhaelhel had even mentioned making a child. The fallen god's wings drooped as did his shoulders as he walked away to return to Maree.

Instead of sitting in the seat provided by Glixenheimer, Dhaelhel stood by Maree's side. He folded his wings neatly at his back and his arms across his chest. The fallen god refused to look at either Curtana or Jarlas. He placed a hand on Maree's shoulder to let her know that he was standing nearby.

Maree shakily stood from her seat in order to address all those that were gathered. She miscaculated her footing and lost a step but did not fall; Al'Kaera was quick to provide support for her which Maree accepted gratefully and gracefully. The two of them stood but it was Maree that addressed the group first. It had been her that was the catalyst for their gathering and she took full responsibility for it.

"There is a shadow falling over Terra, an unnatural shadow that does not originate from this world but from another," Maree spoke. "It is called Arcanum where this threat to Terra was born. He is known as the Old God of Death. His true name is unknown but those from Arcanum call him Naar."

"Lumariale knows this information because she and I have spoken at great lengths," Dhaelhel said. "I sought out any that would listen to my pleas about the destruction that my brother can cause. Lumariale answered and brought me here. I, too, am an Old God from Arcanum, ruling over the Sky. I have come in order to banish my brother back to where he has come from in order to leave your world without his taint."

"The summoning in bringing Dhaelhel here did not go as smoothly as first thought. The ritual was imperfected and stripped Dhaelhel of his powers. A..." Maree paused before continuing," A miscalculation caused me to lose my sight as well, dampening out potential force against Naar."

"In order for me to regain my full powers I need to find my feathers that were lost when I was summoned here," Dhaelhel said. He spread his wings outward, expanding the feathers to their full capacity. There were seven inperfections in the wings; seven missing feathers.

Al'Kaera sighs and looks among him few people assembled; Molko had begun paying his full attention, while Glixenheimer tried to pass dishes of food around to those sitting. Molko was stuffing his face, his eyes trained on the two Elves and former-God. Jarlas, having walked with Curtana to sit himself down, was grinning triumphantly.
Curtana on the other hand, seemed disheartened by the way Dhaelhel reacted.

She had not meant to hurt the former god,only make him angry. Scowling, she turned to Jarlas. "Nah.." She said. "I'm suddenly not all that hungry.." She murmured, making the decision to pull Dhaelhel to the side later and apologize. Looking at her briefly, Jarlas weans his grin off, having thought she might be pleased as he was. Oh, well. Curtana listened to the speech that the former god and Lady Maree went into about Naar.

They had been through a lot, and, though he had yet to show it properly, he was surprised to see Jarlas there at all; he hadn't been among those that had arrived with him. They would have a good talk, soon. For now, however, he too stood, trying to surreptitiously provide some stability for his Wife. "Few of my people are left," he says, specifically to Dhaelhel, "But we will do what we can to provide assistance. If we need to find these feathers, then I suggest we split into search parties."

Molko, sensing himself useful, stands and places a stone slab over the fire pit in the middle of the assembly; then, over that, he throws blank notes of paper and what few maps they had of the area. "If ah' may," he says, looking at Al'Kaera, Maree, and Dhaelhel. Al'Kaera nods, allowing him to speak. While he was a fine leader, Molko was more the tactician. Seeing that he would be allowed to speak, Molko continues.

"With our curren' troops disposition, we'd be best splittin' inta seperate search groups," he begins, his thick accent layering each word. "Righ' now we 'ave..." he looks around, making a head count. "Eight folks. Lord Al'Kaera 'as a few more folks out 'eaded this way, so we can 'ope for two folk' for each feather, a' best."

Dhaelhel passed a brief glance in the direction of Curtana but looked away just as quickly. He did not like the idea of being separated from the elf-girl but there were other things far more important at hand. He needed to gain back his feathers and have his powers returned to him. If he did not, Naar would have too great a foot hold on Terra. The fallen god hoped that it was not already too late and that Naar had not gained a large gathering of followers.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Curtana Lierre Character Portrait: Dhaelhel Character Portrait: Jarlas Fraiture Character Portrait: Al'Kaera Character Portrait: The Guardian Character Portrait: Nachytsm
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#, as written by Knosis
Lady Samsara introduced herself and told the beast all about her adventures. She explained the feather and how it had simply fallen into her hand. Her feet had taken her to a destination and that was how she had found Tugark in the temple. Tugark told his story as best as he could remember, only leaving out the secret bits. He was the Guardian of these mountain ranges at one point, until he was forced to help fight the darkness. There had come a time where he knew he would be needed again, and so in his final battle, he trapped himself and the part of the darkness he was responsible to fight within the temple and sleep until the time came where he would be needed again.

Unfortunately this meant the shadow would return as well.

"Easy there, friend," Lady Samsara said to Tugark. "Grab too hard at my ribs and they'll bruise. We can't have that now can we?" Her feet dangled in the air for a few short seconds before the Lady's feet finally touched level ground. "Sorry.." The beast said, tugging his snout in apology. They had reached the bottom of the difficult incline and were now on the mountain path.

"Do you hear that, Tugark?" Lady Samsara asked as she brought her rifle back into her hands. There were voices echoing off the cliffs of the mountains. Tugark's ears perked to the sounds. "Yes, yes I think I do. They will not be able to understand me, I think. If we come up to them, can you explain to them I mean no harm..?" The beast shifted his wings uneasily.

Dhaelhel sat down in his nest and continued to mope. It was not fair that he was no longer able to touch or speak to Curtana without angering her. He planted his elbow down on his knee and rested his chin in his hand, listening to what the others were saying.

"A very smart beginning to our plans," Maree said, agreeing with what he presented thus far. "Al'Kaera and I will have to remain a team due to my recent conditions. You may volunteer yourselves into teams."

Al'Kaera nods in agreement with his wife, looking towards Molko. "Aye, that is sound, provided more of our people arrive. To that end, we may wish to wait a short while longer. Time, I'm sure, if of the essence."

Molko beams, glad for the praise from his Lord and Lady. With a flustered expression on his face, he removes his helmet and stands, bowing courteously. "I'm sorry, M'lady! I 'aven' even introduced m'self! Molko Firestorm, Nalinathrian Legionnaire, at yeh're service."

A smile spread across Maree's face and she bowed her head in respect toward the dwarf. "You are most welcome, Molko Firestorm. I am honored to have you here with us in these dark times." Molko blushes furiously as he replaces his helmet, bowing once again.

Dhaelhel shot up from his nest-chair as if he were going to volunteer himself and Curtana. If he didn't sense one of the feathers nearby, he very well might have done so. Instead, it was Jarlas who stood abruptly and volunteered himself. "I'll go with Curtana," he exclaims, completely ignoring Dhaelhel's wandering out of the camp.

"There are people approaching," the fallen god stated as he broke out of the circle of chairs and began walking cautiously toward the arriving figures. Nachytsm, too, had broken from Al'Kaera's side, and was charging towards the two in a much-less-attractive fashion than Dhaelhel. Dhaelhel seemed to be engaging the woman, so Nachytsm considered the beast a worthy adversary, shouting a challenge as he charges. Clearly, the one armed man didn't want to wait for questions.Curtana remained where she was, talking to the spirits, who seemed to be trembling for some reason, her eyes following Dhaelhel and the others to where the newest arrivals would show.

Lady Samsara and Tugark broke out from a line of trees, now visible to those that were gathered. The Lady made a surprised expression with her eyebrows impossibly high on her forehead. She quickly put down her rifle and slung it over her back, showing that she meant no harm. And yet as small as the Lady was, she stood in front of Tugark as if she was protecting the much larger creature.

"Apologies ladies and gents," Lady Samsara said as Dhaelhel approached her along with Nachytsm.

She was dressed in brown leather pants that conformed to her skin, and a violet shirt that didn't quite reach the top of her pants leaving midriff bare. And last but not least, Lady Samsara was wearing a brillant red hat on her head with a lovely white feather sticking out from the band.

Seeing that these two apparently meant no harm as yet, Al'Kaera shouts towards the charging Nachytsm commandingly; "Nachytsm, Baeli!" The large man grinds to a halt, settling on a menacing growl as he looks at the two. He didn't trust them; he hadn't learned to trust the Entellens either, not until he'd found them a rather bit relatable. Frowning slightly, Al'Kaera looks to Maree and speaks softly. "Strangers," he says, stating the obvious. "Perhaps they have been drawn by the same purpose."

Maree nodded, hearing Al'Kaera's words easily in her ear. She leans toward him, or toward the sound of his voice. "It is very possible. When the need is great enough, fate will gather many together in order to balance the powers, whether good or not."

"We didn't mean to interrupt you in your little hamlet here," Lady Samsara said, attempting to ignore the stare of the one-armed creature. "We will just be on our way-Oh!" Lady Samsara said as the bulk of Dhaelhel stopped right in front of her. He was very intimidating with his six foot six height and his expansive wings. If she didn't tilt her head upward all Lady could see was his very muscular and attractive pectorals. Lady Samsara blushed and placed a hand on her chest.

"Well, h-hello there," she stuttered before she cleared her throat. "Oh my..."

"This belongs to me," Dhaelhel said as he plucked the feather from her hat.

"W-Wait now! I found that feather fair and square!" Lady Samsara said as she attempted to reach for it. The winged-man held it high above his head and extended one of his wings.

"Thank you for finding it," Dhaelhel said before he inserted it into a gap in his feathers. It molded easily into the spot and melded with the other feathers. The fallen god felt a rush of power returning to him as if a flood gate had been partially opened. A piece of him had been returned.

Dhaelhel turned to tell everyone what had been returned to him but just as he did so a rift in reality split the atmosphere. It was directly above Jarlas's head and for a small second Dhaelhel wished that whatever was coming through it was a very large rock.

But it was not a rock. It was a young elven girl with sun blond hair, pale skin, and vibrant blue eyes. She fell through the rift, falling straight for Jarlas, and the rift closed directly behind her. Jarlas was a happy man, for a moment. He couldn't feel the dull impact, and even as a dead guy, it was always nice having a woman just sort of come into your life like that. He was tempted to say something along the lines of 'Come to papa' but that felt horribly wrong, for a reason he couldn't place. Instead, he just opens his arms to accept the woman and provide a safe (relatively speaking) landing zone. Everything else going on was just gravy now.

The girl's eyes went as round as the plates Molko had distributed earlier after she landed in Jarlas's arms. She recognized him and was about to shout out his name. The girl remembered what she had been told by Jarlas; a different Jarlas but one and the same. Instead of telling Ja-Ja to unhand her that very instant, she frowned and slapped him right across the face. The unknown arrival pushed against his chest and flopped out of his arms unto the ground with an 'oof!'.

"Ow," Jarlas replies sultrily, before letting her push away from her. "And after all the good times we've had." He was only referring to him falling on her, but again, for some reason that phrase had felt particularly inappropriate somehow. Maybe he'd actually fallen for Curtana somehow. He looks over at her, briefly.

"You don't know the half of it," the girl muttered beneath her breath before she followed Jarlas's gaze with her own.

Curtana's eyes never left the beast, despite the other girl who seemed to appear out of thin air. Suddenly, she jumped to her booted feet, her eyes wide and feathered ears errected. Her hair even bristled. "YOU!" She shouted at Tugark. "You are suppose to be asleep! The legends say so!!" She cried, fearfully.

Lady Samsara was torn. She could either stand between Nachytsm, Dhaelhel, and Tugark or between this little elf girl and Tugark. It was difficult to say which he needed more protection from at that very moment. The woman shifted her feet and came to stand between the beast and the small girl.Tugark pulled on his snout shyly. The ancient beast spoke in a tongue long forgotten, but maybe the elves could understand. Lady Samsara definately did.

"I was being called.." "Hey says he was being called," Lady Samsara interpreted. The 8 foot beast muttered under his clawed hand. He shook his wolf-like head and stamped his feet nerviously. "This is so confusing.." He eyed Dhaelhel with a measure of respect, although it was mixed with a bit of unknowing fear. Tugark seemed to understand an entity when he saw one, but this one was unfamiliar to him.

"The shadow is awakening. I was woken to fight the shadow again.." His voice boomed in his ancient tongue. "He has awakened to fight a shadow but it too has woken," Lady Samsara interpreted once more. "Thank you, m'lady." He said to Lady Samsara alone. "Thank you m'lady-oh!" Lady Samsara said. "He was thanking me." Tugark gave a wolfish grin and chuckled slightly. It was uneasy to speak their tongue and he relied heavily on Lady Samsara's service.

Curtana fell back down on her behind in shock. So the legend was true. And it was happening now. This was why the spirits were trembling. "The legend says you nearly destroyed the world last time, 'Guardian'.." She muttered mostly to herself. "What damage are you going to do this time.." She hid her head in the backs of her knees with a sigh. How did she get mixed into these things?

"I smell an adventure," Lady Samsara stated with a grin on her face as she turned in order to pat Tugark affectionately.

Through all of this, Al'Kaera had remained largely silent, simply standing with his wife as the various goings-on occur. The only thing that he had any particular interest with- aside from making introductions as soon as possible- was the arrival of yet another person, this one from a rift in the sky. Jarlas 'deftly' catches her, which he felt glad about for a reason he couldn't place.

Glixenheimer sits, relatively forgotten amidst all the business of the larger folk. With the war planning on hold, and Molko paying close attention to the current proceedings, Glixenheimer simply starts to eat.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Curtana Lierre Character Portrait: Dhaelhel Character Portrait: Jarlas Fraiture Character Portrait: Al'Kaera Character Portrait: The Guardian Character Portrait: Nachytsm
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#, as written by Aderas
Some of them might sense the approach of another figure; she was wounded, trying to silently approach the camp. She had half wanted to stay away, flee, and never come back. But she was not allowed. The woman was Selwen, one of the few Twilight Guard paladins that had survived the Rending. However, her wounds were not related to that event.

Selwyn was having an internal struggle with another entity. Riding, as she was, with the person who had found her, she didn't dare speak openly. She had no choice but to enter the camp. Her armor, steel and silver, had been ripped apart in several places. She bled openly, whatever attacked her having done severe damage. She bore no weapon, anymore, but such was not her power to begin with.

"Xun naut el," Dejah said as she urged Abbil, her horse, to walk more quickly. The woman riding between the pommel and Dejah was wounded in a grave manner. It made the nomadic woman anxious to find help. She did not know how to heal such extensive injuries. Her medicine skill was with herbs, poultices, and herbal remedies on a very small scale. The only offer of help Dejah was able to give to Selwyn was a ride to help. Abbil was growing tired from the load on his back and the horse blew furiously from his nose.

"Ulnin, ulnin," Dejah said in the drow language. For a purebred human woman it was a curious thing for her to have the drow langauge as her first language. She did not even know if Selwyn knew what she was saying to her, but the tone of the woman's voice was gentle and kind. Selwen was making small gestures of direction now and again; she knew where camp lay, called by Al'Kaera as she was. She would not have this woman wander on her account.

Meanwhile back in camp, Anaree had made herself completely at home. She grabbed up a plate of food and started eating it. Though, inhaling her food would have been a better description. It didn't even seem like the blond girl chewed her food. In the manner she was eating and how quickly it all disappeared, along with the quantity, it probably made a few wonder where she put it. Anaree couldn't have weighed more than a hundred and ten pounds with her tiny stature. She shoveled more food onto her plate and plopped herself down right in Nachytsm's seat.

Jarlas watches this with an acute interest before he places himself on the rock next to her, respectively so- he wasn't alive yet, after all. "Y'know, it's good t' meet you an' all, but... I don' think we've made introductions, have we?"

"Ana," she simply stated with a mouthful of food.

Molko was stunned at first, though seemed to respect the woman's hearty appetite. "Aye, lass, much as we've food t'spare, yeh kinnae jus' wander in an' start eatin' it," he scolds her.

"But your cooking is so good," Anaree protested to Molko. She always loved his food. The girl pouted.

Glixenheimer seemed to be beside himself for a moment before he raises a finger in triumph. "She must be a soldier from the Army! Someone we didn't know, perhaps? I wonder why D- My transportoragitationator would have sent her here, though," he wonders.

"Your transportoragitantionator didn't send me here," Anaree said. She began to shovel down her food again to keep herself from explaining. Anaree glanced a few times at Maree and Al'Kaera. She knew exactly who the two were but she was bound to not say a word. Anaree had been sent to witness and not to interfere. If she interfered it could create a paradox and change the course of history altogether. She wanted to avoid that at all costs. But she had to know the truth, despite Molko's advice. Maree would be easy to handle, but Al'Kaera was another matter. He was not blind and her father was not a foolish man. Anaree had to keep a low profile. How possible that idea was there was no telling yet.

In response, Jarlas simply replies, "Huh. Well, I'm Jarlas," he decides in a more friendly manner, putting on the undead rogue charms. "S'a pleasure t'meet ya, Ana."

Molko was somewhat more reserved, but he bows his head in proper Dwarven fashion all the same. "Molko Firestorm," he adds.

"And I am Techno-Engineering Assassin Glixenheimer Bolargian Gibnoticous, Former Grand-Master of the Thiertieth-by-Fifteenth Largest Under-precinct pertaining to Gnomish and other Underdwelling Folk, in the Second Quarter of the Grand City in which we used to reside," said the Gnome all in one breath. He used to have more titles but with their home being destroyed he felt it prudent to drop a few.

"There are more arriving, my beloved?" Maree asked her husband, Al'Kaera. There were new voices, and none of them she was familar with at all. "How many are there?" Al'Kaera nods, briefly. "Two at the edge of Camp, one... in the middle of camp. I also hear... distantly, one voice, coming closer." He tilts his head, listening; his had been a Ranger for many long years, and had learned to single out specific noises and their directions. "Mounted. I do not think it is one of my people, as we had no horses with us."

Dhaelhel looked curiously at Lady Samsara and then at Tugark. It was a curious pairing but what was more curious was how Curtana seemed to know the creature. He glanced at the girl and then stalked away from all of them. He wanted nothing to do with any of them at the moment. Each person seemed to be dealing with their own business instead of dealing with the world threatening ordeal at hand. For once, the fallen god was taking the situation seriously instead of acting like a child. He did not wish for this world to suffer at the hand of Naar as did Arcanum.

Curtana had not noticed that the man had turned his attention to her, albeit briefly. In fact, she hadn't even noticed the others had began to eat. Instead, she sat alone, her arms wrapped about her legs and trembling. Unshed tears met her eyes, threatening to fall to expose more or her unsettled state. It was so out of character for the woman, and all because of Tugark. She would not come from her dark place for a while, unless someone broke her out of the progression of the dark thought.

Tugark shifted slightly again. The spirits were trembling as well. Jarlas kept his attention on Anaree for a few minutes before he noticed that Curtana seemed to be having some sort of meltdown. Frowning lightly, he wanders over to her and sits down, nudging her with his shoulder. "Hey," he says, before nudging her again. "Hey," he adds warmly. "Don' worry! I've still got eyes for ya."

Dhaelhel eventually came to stand at Maree's side and he spoke to her. "I can now step into the ethereal realm. A piece of me has been returned by a woman, one that has just joined our gathering. I can sense that she belongs with us in this journey as does her companion," Dhaelhel said and Maree acknowledged him by nodding.

"Now there are only six more to find," he said. The fallen god then noticed, over Maree's shoulder and past Al'Kaera, that a blond elf girl was staring at him with food dribbling out of her mouth. He frowned, folded his arms across his chest, and then stared at the others, waiting for them to convene back to the circle. Molko seemed to have heard this bit about the numbers, and grins, making some quick modifications to his charts. "Then... by my coun'... we 'ave "Eleven 'eads." He seemed to have included Anaree into this count easily enough. If we've six t'find, per'aps we'd be best in three groups o' three, plus one fer two of 'em."

"Come now Tugark, let us see what this adventure shall be about," Lady Samsara suggested. She took the beast's hand and lead him toward the circle but stopped at the sound of approaching hooves. "But m'lady.. I am useless without my weapon at least.." He spoke in his ancient tongue, his blue hues shifting from the woman to Dhaelhel, although his ears turned to the direction of the approaching hooves. "Do you know where my sword is, Master...?" He did not recall if the entity had been introduced to the new comers or not. Curtana blinked and looked up at Tugark, sighing with relief. It would seem she understood some of the ancient tongue. Tugark would wait for an answer then look towards the sound of hooves, curious as to who else he would meet for this journey.

"Well," Lady Samsara said to Tugark. "You seem to know that young lady over there and her, you. Why don't we go have a little chat with the girl and see if we can't gather up a clue or two as to where your weapons are," the woman suggested as she tugged Tugark over to Curtana. Tugark was about to protest, but the huge beast was pulled along by the much smaller woman like a pet unsure what to do.

"Hello, Lady Samsara at your service, girl," the woman in the red hat introduced herself. "And it seems you know exactly who this creature is, don't you, dear?" Lady Samsara placed a hand on her hip then arched her brow impossibly and impeccably high. Curtana's green hues shifted up to Lady Samsara for the first time since she had entered the camp. Most of her attention had been to her huge companion, she'd not noticed that he had a partner truly. Slowly her mind began to unwind and work the words back to her tongue. "I know what he is." She spoke slowly. "I am Curtana, pleasure to meet you Lady Samsara." She bowed her head slightly in greeting before shifting her attention back to Tugark. Carefully, she began to speak in his ancient tongue although she fumbled over a few things. "He was the one the Legends spoke of. I know who he is." Tugark's ears perked up towards Curtana, his blue hues gleaming dangerously.

A horse and its two riders broke through the line of trees and came into the camp. Dejah pulled back the reins and dismounted from her fleabitten colored mount in one lithe movement. The woman with dark hair and mysterious eyes led the mount deeper into the camp. Dejah and the wounded woman were now surrounded by the curious gathering. The wounded woman's head was bowed, and she seemed ashamed, as if she couldn't bear to look at anyone.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Curtana Lierre Character Portrait: Dhaelhel Character Portrait: Jarlas Fraiture Character Portrait: Al'Kaera Character Portrait: The Guardian Character Portrait: Nachytsm
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#, as written by Maree
Jarlas was still standing by Curtana, sort of awkwardly, as it were. She clearly was out of sorts, and he felt that he had some sort of weird obligation to make her feel better. So to that end, he was just standing there, pretending to be important and like a bodyguard of sorts. Hell, half the rest of the people there had a guard, why shouldn't Curtana get one?

Anaree counted the people gathered and gave Molko an approving, beautiful and charming, smile. The elf-girl practically beamed with sunlight when she smiled. The first step of her mission was complete and that was to be accepted into those that were embarking on the journey to banishing Naar. Her smile remained as she continued to eat the last few crumbs from her plate. Molko, who had been looking around for acknowledgement- of which there was little- had to look away from the bright smile Anaree blessed him with, turning his beard-covered cheeks somewhat red. Flustered, he too rushes towards Selwen, to provide assistance.

The blue eyes of Anaree lifted from the plate and landed square on Nachytsm. Her heart pounded and fluttered. Her cheeks rosey and Anaree's gaze promptly dropped from the scarred man. Her blond brows knit together tight and she concentrated as hard as she could on her plate.

For his part, Nachytsm was mostly clueless. He was still staring at Tugark for a little while, until it seemed established that he was friend. When he had finally understood Al'Kaera's words of another person in the camp- not counting the wounded Selwen and rider- he turns to glare at Anaree.

"I can smell blood," Anaree heard Maree say. She looked up at her mother and her heart wrenched. It was difficult to bear witness to her mother's period of blindness. She looked so lost and helpless.

Stomping over, Nachytsm had a look of consternation fixed on his face. Nobody else seemed to be questioning her arrival- and, for Nachytsm to be the only one thinking about it, meant that it was something too simple for them to have noticed. It was up to him. "Where'd you come from," he half grunts, half mumbles at her. Oddly, Nel awakens at that point and jumps over to Anaree, clucking excitedly.

Anaree gave a start in her seat. She looked up but not far enough that their eyes locked. Her gaze stopped at his chin. "I can't... I can't tell you," Anaree said sheepishly. She cringed knowing that Nachytsm wasn't going to be pleased with that answer. But it was the truth. She couldn't tell anywhere where she was from or when she was from either.

"N-Nice chicken you have here," Anaree said, picking the exicted critter up. The young elf giggled and gently rubbed her finger beneath the chicken's beak. It was a good distraction from the hulking man standing over her. It took everything Anaree had to not bolt from Nachytsm. Why did he have to be the one to come speak to her? She'd rather be explaining herself to her father for the sole fact she was used to that at least!

Anaree sighed. The large man squints his eyes down at her, then at Nel, who was quite enjoying herself. It was almost as if Nel knew this woman. "Not soldier," he rumbles, knowing the look of one from long experience. He pauses for a moment, trying to remember what it was Al'Kaera did when he was being deductive. He then rubs his mauled chin idly. "Nel likes you," he continues. Anaree said nothing. She just blushed a vicious shade of pink.

"Has someone taken injury, my beloved," Maree asked Al'Kaera. She attempted to move toward the strong smell. Her hands were beautiful tools of healing magic. If anyone could aid the poor soul it was Maree. The time spent as a cleric was far behind her, but Maree would not oppose to calling on the powerful art when the need arose. Al'Kaera was shocked to see Selwen in such a poor state. "Selwen," he cries out, his eyes shifting to a dim gray.

"Lead me to them please," Maree asked her husband. He complies, taking her by the hand and wrapping an arm about her shoulders, to lead her towards the rider and his wounded soldier, joined by Molko.

Dhaelhel had rushed straight over to the wounded arrival. Dejah made room for the man and his expanse of wings. She did not even look at him twice as most women would have done. The ranger watched as Dhaelhel took the woman from Abbil's saddle into his strong arms. He carried her toward Maree whether the injured woman protested or not. Dhaelhel had strength enough to hold her and carry her over to where aid would be given. For her part, she did not protest, much. She struggled, weakly, not wishing to be carried; she was a Paladin of noble upbringing, and such coddling did not take well with her. She also feared the pain of the healing to come, but she would grit her teeth against it.

Dejah just stood where she was in the sea of strange faces. Her hands clenched around Abbil's reins and she studied the various people. The most curious she found was a lady in a red hat and her beast. A story came to Dejah. It was one from her childhood where a beautiful woman had tamed a vicious beast.

"Glad to know you two are friends," Lady Samsara said to both Curtana and Tugark. "'Friend' is a strong word when it comes to him and my kind.." Curtana muttered, although the only person who could probably hear her was Jarlas. And hear he did, because he's an awesome Bodyguard.

"It is good to know that I am not the only one that speaks his strange language, too. Quite a fine skill you have there, girl." The Lady leaned forward and patted Curtana on the head as if she had done a good deed. Curtana scowled and backed away from the woman slightly. She was being treated like a child!

"Well it's something we were kind of brainwashed into learning from our teachers.. Though I'm really rusty at speaking his language," Curtana said in common. "Said it might be important one day to remember our past. Didn't think it would be for this though."

"Now he needs to find a particular weapon. Have you any idea where this particular weapon may be, little lady?" Lady Samsara asked Curtana. Her brow was still curiously arched high upon her forehead as she waited for the answer.

"Weapon?" She turned to Tugark. "You don't remember? If you don't, I'm surely going to be the -last- person to tell you." Tugark rubbed his snout sheepishly.

"But I need it.. The darkness is shadowing this land and I need it to fight the darkness.." Tugark almost sounded like a giant child, begging and pleading for a treat. Curtana smirked but did not respond. Jarlas smirks too, crossing his arms, and still being an awesome bodyguard. Curtana let a brow raise at Jarlas, feeling he was mocking her. Lady Samsara looked away from Curtana was to watch what was happening with the newest arrivals.

Dhaelhel held onto Selwen as Maree, Al'Kaera, and Molko arrived. Maree's outstretched hand met armor and she shook her head. The elven woman spoke softly and told Al'Kaera that her armor had to be removed.

"Once the armor is removed, put her down onto the ground and do not touch her or me," Maree instructed to those around her. Molko gives her a quick salute, before walking over towards Dhaelhel. "Bring 'er down t'my level, lad," he requests. "I kin get tha' armor off 'er in less'n a minute!" Jarlas, having Elvish ears, snickers upon hearing this. "This is no time for jests," Maree chastised Jarlas.

Selwen did not struggle or try to disrupt their removal of the armor; it did, however, reveal her wounds to be much more grave, when it began to come off. What seemed a minor cut with her armor on was revealed to be a massive gouge in her gut, but the bleeding of which had been reduced extensively. Maree's fingers probed around Selwen's body until she found the wound. The elven woman's face paled and her mouth grew stern.

"This will hurt," she warned Selwen before Maree plunged her hand down into the gouge. It looked barbaric, Maree's methods. No surgeon would ever stick their bare hand into other person's body as she had done. None of them had the magical skill and prowess that Maree held, either. Blood pooled in the wound as Maree's hand worked inside of Selwen's body. The muscles in Maree's cheek tightened as she focused on visioning the human body. The organs, muscles, and arteries were mending. As she continued to work the elf's hand began to surface from the pool of blood inside Selwen's body.

Finally after several long minutes Maree took her hand from the gouge. She spread her fingers and palm over the wound. A chant was said beneath her breath and the rest of Selwen's muscles along with her skin began to knit itself back together right in front of their eyes. When Maree was finished there was not even a scar left behind on Selwen's skin. Maree sighed and continued to heal the other, smaller, wounds, which were far less painful to heal.

Having finished his food, and seeing that others were attending to the wounded, Glixenheimer had approached Lady Samsara and her large, beastly friend, a look of curiosity brightly lighting his face. "Hello," he says loudly up at them. The large beast bent slightly to peer at Glix, his large head tilting to the side. He flicked his large wings in order to rebalance himself when he bent down.

"Hello." Tugark said in his ancient tongue. His tufted ears twitched slightly. "No need to shout, I can hear you just fine. I am Tugark." He introduced himself, although Glixenheimer would probably need Lady Samsara to translate for him. Tugark scratched at a horn on his head curiously. "I did not know that the humans and elves got so.. Small." Tugark commented snidely.

"Tugark would like you to know that you don't have to shout in order for us to hear you. We're perfectly capable as we are. He also says that he was not familiar with humanoids being so tiny as you are. You are a gnome, are you not?" Lady Samsara asked and she knelt down in order to hold out her hand for proper introductions.

"I am Lady Samsara. Hunter Extraordinaire," she said to Glixenheimer. Abbil blew air through his nose and Dejah patted him to comfort the horse. He nudged her belly before wandering toward a tuft of grass. Dejah let him go, unafraid that the horse would run.

Beaming up at her, and the large creature, Glixenheimer bows his head courteously. "A most splendiferous meeting," he says in a more mild tone, before raising to look back up at them. "I am a Gnome! And quite pleased to hear they are known in these parts! Allow me to introduce myself; I am Techno-Engineering Assassin Glixenheimer Bolargian Gibnoticous, Former Grand-Master of the Thiertieth-by-Fifteenth Largest Under-precinct pertaining to Gnomish and other Underdwelling Folk, in the Second Quarter of the Grand City in which we used to reside!" He was quite excitable by the time he had finished his title, taking a large breath. Twice in one day was a pittance to how things used to be, but being able to make introductions was one of the best parts of a Gnome's day.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Curtana Lierre Character Portrait: Dhaelhel Character Portrait: Jarlas Fraiture Character Portrait: Al'Kaera Character Portrait: The Guardian Character Portrait: Nachytsm
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#, as written by Aderas
"A most wondrous set of titles you have there," Lady Samsara said. She was amused by the tiny creature. "I don't suppose that whoever is in charge here is allowing more to accompany him or her? It seems you are all gathering for a hunt. I do love a good hunt," Lady Samsara said to Glixenheimer with an adventerous smile on her face.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Curtana Lierre Character Portrait: Dhaelhel Character Portrait: Jarlas Fraiture Character Portrait: Al'Kaera Character Portrait: The Guardian Character Portrait: Nachytsm
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The group had waited for the rest of the day at Curtana's camp. Jarlas had used his rod to summon a couple more structures for the new arrivals- a fascinating proceedure that involved aiming the rod, stating which building he wanted, and then allowing a small sphere to simply shoot out, land on the ground, and sprout into a moderately sized structure, all of them complete with furnishings and some personal belongings. Selwen had her own, which she was moved to after a while- Dejah was allowed to accompany her, with Molko joining for translation purposes, since the women seemed to have an interest in speaking to one another.

There was also a structure for Lady Samsara, a fanciful stone lodging with rather comfortable ammenities inside. The previous owner had been a man, a Paladin apparently, judging by the books and icons laying about here and there. His fate was unknown to her.

Tugark, too, was granted a building not unlike Molko's, though it was built more like a barracks or armory than a proper resting place.

Jarlas had offered Curtana a place in his personal tent- but, her face as red as her hair, she somehow found it in herself to kindly refuse the offer. She found her own spot, away from the others for the night, knowing it might possibly be the last night she'd be in her little homestead for a while. Not that Jarlas had any untoward intentions or anything! He didn't even sleep in his tent, what with being dead and all. He was on watch all night too.

Dhaelhel had been invited to Al'Kaera's building with him and Maree. But Dhaelhel did not stay throughout the night. He had retreated to perching in a tree as would a bird. The Old God of the Sky was not pleased with his relationship with Curtana. He planned to mend it. And so, in the midst of sleep, Dhaelhel treaded into Curtana's dreams. Inside the dream the god attempted to garner forgiveness from the girl. Before she could protest Dhaelhel swooped her up into his arms and kissed her. And from there, with Curtana helpless against defending herself from her own dreams, Dhaelhel made sure the girl would wake up deliriously and curiously satisfied.

Anaree was given a rather simple building, compared to the rest, which she would be completely unfamiliar with it. It was made of wood and stone. The dwelling was also relatively unfurnished, but had a basement with a modest laboratory in it.

Nachytsm, naturally, stayed watch outside through the new night. The moon was bright, with a cool breeze coming down from higher in the mountains.

Nothing had happened during the night, save the encroaching of a few random beasts. No others had come.

When morning had come, Molko was one of the first to be awake. Eager to be ready, he had begun preparations of a massive breakfast, assisted by Glixenheimer. There were a number of new chairs scattered around the fire pit, most of them rather basic stools or luxurious, cushioned things.

Molko was waiting for everyone to assemble around the fire they had built. He was ready; maps, charts, lists, needs, travel gear, various supplies and amenities in backpacks. While he had been translating for Dejah and Selwen, he had been preparing a large amount of gear for the march. Lady Samsara was already awake and sat at the table. She had dressed herself in the same clothes as she had worn the day previous, much to her distaste. Her hair was done up in a tight and immaculate bun with just a few decorative fly aways to frame her heart-shaped face. Her boots were propped up on another chair and Lady Samsara was sharpening a knife against a whet stone. She began to sing a lovely tune of adventure and fame. Both Molko and Glixenheimer, surprisingly, had begun to hum along with her after a while. Like many Legionnaires, they had grown fond of Elvish music, which was common to hear during peace or war, and harmonizing had come naturally to them. Molko's humming was deep and powerful, while Glixenheimer's had a more whimsical note to it.

Tugark was not long after the first wave of people waking. The beast had slept soundly through the night, and woke with the dawn that morning. His blue eyes were bright and sharp, looking for Lady Samsara. Once she found her, he grinned a rather silly grin, bowing slightly in greeting which she returned without breaking the tune. Tugark bobbed his head with the rhythm of the song she sang, listening to her in silence. He could only hope that their days would last, but first he must find his sword and shield. On that thought, his eyes wondered over to Curtana, who was huddled down by a tree, hugging her knees to her chest. It was curious that her face was beet red.


Oh yes, Curtana was awake too. Her face was crimson and her eyes were ringed with dark puffy rings from lack of appropriate sleep. She had dreamed of Dhaelhel that night. She had heard it was normal to dream of people who actually had a crush on, and she was first to admit the male version of Dhaelhel was amazing. It was the fact that Dhaelhel could choose to be female in a blink of an eye that concerned her. Dhaelhel had appologized in her dream, as she expected her self conciousness expected him to do. She had not realized that Dhaelhel was actually in her dreams. The next part, although it pleased her after she gave in to his advances in her dreams, haunted her awake. Had she really wanted him to do that to her? That's the only reason you could dream of such things, is if you subconciously wanted it.. Right? She shivered at the thought and hugged herself, huddling against a tree for support.

Jarlas had noticed Curtana's poor disposition that morning, and, while he was tempted to go tell her she should have slept in his tent, he was still worried about the potentiality that he'd been taking her too seriously. After all, it wasn't often he felt weird about hitting on any women, and the fact that it had happened (which hadn't happened since his second wife) meant he was terribly confused. So instead he just chills out on the other side of Camp pretending to be on watch.

Dhaelhel unraveled himself from his wings. As the god stretched out, he looked down and was curious to find Curtana huddling against his tree stump. He jumped down and crouched so that he was on the same level as her.

"Curtana, are you alright," Dhaelhel asked, politely. He reached out and gently touched her shoulder. Curtana herself nearly jumped two feet at the touch. Looking up to Dhaelhel, she physically flinched before giving him an uneasy smile. "Y-yeah, I'm alright.. Just tired, didn't sleep well last night is all.." She murmured. Hearing that she hadn't slept well made Dhaelhel frown. That was not the reaction he had expected. The fallen god sighs and notes the dark circles around her eyes.

"Are you hungry? Molko is making food again. Do you want me to bring a plate to you, Curtana?" Dhaelhel asked. Shaking her head vigorously, she looked worrisome for some reason. "No, it's alright.. I'm not hungry." Even though she had not eaten since the rest of them had found each other. "I'll be fine, thanks."

"No, you won't," Dhaelhel said. A look of determination came into his eyes as he stared down at Curtana. "Please", he said, "Come eat." Curtana turned her gaze away from his own, cowaring under the look of determination. Had that been the look he gave her in her dream? It was.

"Dhaelhel, I don't need to eat as often as others.. I'll be fine, promise."

"I will make you a plate then," Dhaelhel replied, not taking no for an answer. He turned away and went to fetch her a plate. When he finally got around to the fire pit, he found that Molko was particularly against his taking food before meal-time. Dhaelhel set down the empty plate and crossed his arms over his bulging pectorals. He would wait and Curtana was going to be the first served that morning. Dhaelhel was going to make sure of that.

While Dhaelhel was preoccupied with making her a plate of food, Curtana thought it best to try to hang around Al'Kaera and Maree, if she could find them that is. Dhaelhel seemed more reluctant to hang around her if those two were watching..


Dejah Thoris was over by Abbil, giving him an apple which was given to her by Molko. The horse was very appreciative of the treat. It made Dejah smile and she turned that smile onto Selwen. She did not speak the woman's language but Dejah was fond of her. There was a good soul to her and Selwen was not like the other females that she had known before. It was not just because of the color of Selwen's skin either, but something far deeper. The Knight radiated a light in Dejah's eyes and after spending so much time in the dark, she was drawn to it like moth to a flame.

Selwen had come out of her building a fair bit later than Dejah. She had been resting most of the night, meaning Molko's services as a translator went more or less unused. She had yet to properly thank Dejah for bringing her to the camp, even if it was not what she expressedly wished. Regardless, she sought to give her the proper thanks when she had a moment with Molko, that he might translate for her.

For the moment, she simply looked towards her, a smile crossing her face for a moment, the only way of thanks she could at the moment offer. She had healed completely during the night, and indeed, seemed to have grown more attractive in some capacity, somehow. An implacable change in her armor, the torn and battered suit being exchanged for a new one, or perhaps it was the brand new longsword she had at her side. Or perhaps it was her eyes, glowing now as they were with the faintest of holy Lights.

She likes you, Selwen hears, looking away from Dejah and walking towards the fire. I can tell, comes the musical tone.

Dejah's smile disappeared as soon as Selwen looked away from her. Her brows knit together as she pet the long neck of her mount. Abbil blew air through his nose and put it against the grass. Dejah said a few conversational words to Abbil before she gave the horse a parting pat. The woman then came to Glixenheimer's side and without asking, began to help him with the morning meal. She was well suited to the task.

Glixenheimer was focusing on the meal, mostly, ensuring that the spices and the portions were even enough to be spread amongst everyone. Meanwhile, Nachytsm was standing at the ready outside Al'Kaera's structure.

It had been difficult for Anaree to sleep. She kept tossing and turning throughout the night. As soon as she gave up on the hope of sleep, Anaree had gone wandering through the woods nearby camp. Nachytsm had seen her leave, but did not try to follow or bother her. He was on watch, and couldn't be distracted from it. Now that it was morning, the young elf returned. A brace of dead rabbits dangled from her hand. They had given their lives for Anaree as a gift and she was going to honor their sacrifice by giving them to someone who would appreciate them.

Nachytsm wasn't standing too far from Anaree. She walked toward him, making sure that she was heard. Anaree had learned a long time ago that it was never a good idea to sneak up on him when it was possible. He tracks her as she approaches him. Nel was sleeping in the crook of his armor, making soft cooing sounds. Nachytsm didn't really know what to think of Anaree yet, and was about to be further confused.

"You've been here all night," Anaree said to Nachytsm. He grunts an affirmative. "I brought you something to eat. It's not cooked." The elven girl came to his side and held out the brace of rabbits for him to take.

The large man blinks, looking first at her and then at the rabbits. He could smell the fresh meat, but hadn't really put a mind to it. She had hunted all night for these beasts, and now she was offering them to him? He fixes his gaze back on her, his black eyes barely showing his confusion. "Thanks," he mutters as he reaches out to pluck one of the rabbits from her hand. Anaree stopped him by pulling the rabbits away from his reach. The girl then sat down next to him and pulled out a small hunting knife. After inspecting the rabbits, Anaree started to clean them for Nachytsm. He very well couldn't have done it himself without some difficultly or without destroying the delicate meat. So she was doing it for him. The large man still had his hand outstretched as he stares down at Anaree. People didn't usually do things for him. Bringing him food was one thing. Preparing it was another. Preparing it while enduring his presence... that was downright absurd. Lowering his arm, he looks ahead and grumbles idly.

"Waitin' for Al'Kaera," he says then before Anaree asks, "Where's Maree?" He gestures at the building he was guarding. Anaree nodded in affirmation as she slipped the fur from the first rabbit. The girl took off the feet and gutted the creature before she offered it again to Nachytsm. Without saying another word, Anaree began to dress the second rabbit.

Nachytsm grumbles again, accepting the rabbit without looking down at Anaree. Kindness was something he didn't fathom well. He could have stuffed the whole thing in his mouth, crunching messily and probably spurting blood about, but he remembered Al'Kaera told him it was a kind thing to eat slowly when in the company of others. Like chocolate, he wasn't supposed to just eat it all at once. Or something to that effect.

Thus, Nachytsm simply shoves the rabbit's head into his mouth, ripping that off and chewing with some manner of satisfaction. The dull crunches of bone could be heard quite easily.

Anaree simply laughed.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Curtana Lierre Character Portrait: Dhaelhel Character Portrait: Jarlas Fraiture Character Portrait: Al'Kaera Character Portrait: The Guardian Character Portrait: Nachytsm
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After quite some time had passed, Al'Kaera and Maree finally exit the command structure together. Al'Kaera was leading his wife gently by the hand, staying close in case she happened to fall. He nods to Nachytsm as he walks through the door, though he was surprised to see Anaree sitting there as well, and feeding Nachytsm raw meat. Not many knew, after all, that it was how he preferred his food.

"Good morning," he says to them both in passing. "We are going to begin talking strategy," he says more directly to Anaree. "If you would like to take your meal to the fire pit."

"Good morning," Anaree mumbled. She nodded to Al'Kaera; her father. The girl kept her eyes lowered and focused on the other naked hare in her hands. Nachytsm had decided he would be best suited to maintain his 'proper' etiquitte as he falls in at Al'Kaera's side naturally. He had started munching on the rabbit's spine by that point, keeping his focus away from anything that wasn't his meal or his charge. Anaree stood up quickly and pressed the rabbit into Nachytsm's hand before he walked off without it. She then turned on her heel and headed toward the fire by herself. Now with two rabbits in his hand, Nachytsm stuffs the fresh one in his armor next to Nel, who was finally waking up.

Molko had turned to give Al'Kaera a formal salute practically the moment he exited the dwelling, Glixenheimer was less formal, settling for a jaunty wave. He had taken over guarding the food from Dhaelhel, keeping an eye on him and occasionally waving the massive stirring spoon at him admonishingly. Selwen, too, had paused in her wandering to salute Al'Kaera, even though she was only under his command as a technicality.

"Everyone," Al'Kaera says in a voice loud enough to be heard throughout the camp. "Let us assemble and make our final plans." He continues to lead Maree back to where they had sat the previous day. He ensured she was seated comfortably before seating himself. Then he waves to Molko and Selwen, allowing them to be at ease.

Quick as a bolt, the moment Molko had been allowed at ease, he prepared two plates for Al'Kaera and Maree. Loyal to his Lord (and Lady as it were), he presents the two of them with the meal before returning to set up a dish for each of the others. Al'Kaera accepts the two dishes graciously, placing one on a steady flat stone next to Maree and adjusting the silverware so that she could easily place her hands on it; which he helps her find regardless.

Maree sank into her seat and sat slightly forward with her head hanging. The night had been difficult for her. The elven woman was far more pale than she should have been. Dark circles, much like Curtana's, ringed her eyes which were left bare this morning. Blind eyes looked down at the ground; all Maree could see was black. It left her to remember what Naar had shown her in the night. Only at Al'Kaera's touch did Maree show a sign of life; a small upward curl of the edge of her mouth.

By Al'Kaera's order, Selwen makes her way to the fire, choosing a seat and standing next to it for a moment. She felt compelled to seek out Dejah again, and gesture for her to sit next to her. "Lord Molko," she says softly to the busy Dwarf. "Would you mind sitting with the Ranger and I?" Peering up from the plates of food he and Glixenheimer were setting up, Molko nods and smiles. "Aye, lass, I kin do tha'." He then sets two plates aside, one for Dejah and one for Selwen.

Dejah picked up one of the plates and offered it out to Selwen. She did not say a single word but she gestured for Selwen to take it. She smiles and graciously accepts the plate with a bow of her head. She then stoops slightly to pick up the other plate, offering it to Dejah with a light titter of amusement. Dejah's eyes widen in surprise. It was perhaps not the reaction that Selwen would have expected. Instead of returning the amusement, it seemed as if Selwen had just offered Dejah a precious gift. Never before had the ranger been offered food willingly.

There was no word for 'thank you' in her language. Dejah took the plate into her hands as gently as a mother would have taken her newborn into her hands. The woman then bowed her head down low to Selwen. It was all she could do to show her appreciation due to their rift in communcation.Molko couldn't help but chuckle at the exchange; despite Selwen's request, it seemed they were communcating fine without him.

Selwen, though slightly confused, bows her head in response to Dejah's deep respectful bow. Then she settles into the chair she had chosen, setting her plate aside until the meeting convened in earnest. She looks up at Dejah expectantly until she too sits. Dejah sat down on the ground at Selwen's feet and seemed quite content at her position. This time it was Selwen's turn to widen her eyes. She opens her mouth to protest briefly, before she remembers that she would not be understood. "Ah.. Molko," she requests gently.

Turning to look back at them again, Molko was just barely taller than Dejah as she was sitting. He looks at the vacant seat next to Selwen, and then back to the Ranger. "My lady," he says courteously in the Drow tongue. "You need not sit on the ground, there is ample seating."

At first Dejah did not know that Molko was speaking to her but then she realized he was speaking in Drow. He had called her 'my lady' which left the woman baffled. "I prefer the ground," Dejah said to the dwarf. "I have not earned the right to a chair." He would have fought that train of thought, but the Dwarf understood honor, and she may have felt unworthy of the new group. "As you wish," he says amiably. "But you may sit where you like. You are among friends." He then looks at Selwen. "She'd pr'fer t'sit on tha groun'," he tells her.

Seeing as Molko was distracted, Dhaelhel took the opportunity to make a hasty plate of food. If Glixenheimer attempted to stop him, Dhaelhel was just going to step right over him. Glixenheimer didn't try to stop him; after all, he was busy making plates for the others, as well. Peering up at Dhaelhel, he inquires in a voice loud enough to be heard over the din of clattering dishes and whatever conversation was going around. "Is that for you, or someone else? I don't want any excess plates!" He seemed quite serious about that.

"It is for Curtana," Dhaelhel said. He left Glixenheimer with that single answer as he hurried over to Curtana with her haphazard plate of food in his hands. Nodding to Dhaelhel as he leaves, Glixenheimer ensures that the next plate made was for him.

Seeing Dhaelhel looking for her, she attempt to hide. Attempted, as well as she could from a god/goddess. She started over towards Maree and Al'Kaera, hoping to sit as close to them as possible. By the way the seating was arranged, she would have to sit next to either Jarlas or Nachytsm, who was standing next to Maree protectively. Anaree walked up to Nachytsm. Her hands were clean of blood. Since he was standing, the girl sat herself down into his "chair", which was basically a slab of stone with a back rest. Since the other side of Al'Kaera and Maree were taken by Nachytsm and Anaree, she settled with sitting down next to Jarlas. That should also deter Dhaelhel a bit. A bit at least.

Jarlas wanders back towards the camp, sitting with his arms crossed on the opposite side of Al'Kaera as Maree. He had an utterly serious expression on his face. It was a little known fact (and probably unknown amongst current company) that Jarlas happened to be Al'Kaera's only "surviving" Lieutenant. Despite his usual personality, he was still a skilled tactician. In a strange moment, Maree looked up and her sightless eyes locked onto Jarlas. He could feel the 'eyes' on him, and he peers across Al'Kaera professionally to look at Maree.

She... wants you... do you not see it? He will take her from you. Maree's voice spoke into Jarlas's mind. As soon as the words were said, her 'eye contact' was broken with the zombie. The elven woman reached for her fork. Jarlas wished his body still did stuff like involuntary twitching, because he'd totally feel that right about then. Maybe if I was alive I'd do something about that, he thinks, more for his own benefit than for Maree's. He knew exactly who she was referring to, but he wasn't going to think any names like Curtana or anything. Nope.

Find the feathers, Maree's voice whispered back, though it was laced with another voice; a pitch that was slightly lower than Maree's. That was interesting. Jarlas fully turns to stare at Maree for a moment, and tries to seek out the dark influence with his own mind, if only briefly. But he found nothing. Maree dropped her fork and bent over to search for it blindly. Al'Kaera touches her hand and stoops down to fetch it himself, replacing the soiled instrument with his own and handing it to her. Her fingers wrapped around the utensil.

Anaree rose from Nachytsm's stone chair and began to aid Maree with eating. It was a bold move but she could no longer suffer the sight of her mother struggling. Seeing this, Al'Kaera's eyes shift to a deep blue for a brief moment before returning to the neutral gray. "Thank you," he says, deeply heartfelt. He would have to thank her more earnestly later, but for now he had to return his attention to the slowly assembling group. "Welcome," Anaree said as Maree thanked her too. The girl shushed Maree and delicately made sure that her weakened mother finished everything that was on her plate.

Dhaelhel arrived with Curtana's plate. He walked directly up to the girl and offered it out to her.

It was around that time that Jarlas noticed Curtana had sat next to him. He was still being all professional and whatnot, so he didn't really think much of it beyond that it might be a place to sit. "Did'ja sleep well," he asks, having not said a word to her all morning and wanting, if nothing else, to clear the air.

Curtana sighed and took the plate. It was pretty much hopeless at this point to argue. Dhaelhel smiled victoriously and quickly brushed a kiss against her forehead. He left and sat down in his designated chair. Jarlas, having been looking right at the two of them while this happened, wished again that he could twitch his cheek. It was his favorite twitch. Turning to face Jarlas, she gave him a sheepish smile. Her pale face only accented the dark circles around her eyes. "I didn't sleep so well.." She murmured. A flash of red across her cheeks explained she would not go further into detail about why.

Dhaelhel had heard and chuckled to himself. Jarlas, with his Elven ears, could hear that chuckle and detected some significance. He looks back at Curtana and nods slightly. "Sorry t'hear that," he decides on saying. "Maybe you'll sleep better once y'get a proper bed, 'n all," he says. Curtana only sighed. "Some how, I doubt that.." She murmured more quietly, her feathered ears twitching. Jarlas actually felt himself get slightly offended, but he decided to keep that to himself. He didn't know the whole story, and he couldn't drink himself into thinking about it any deeper than that during the serious moment.

Dhaelhel's humor died away and he stared directly at Jarlas. There was an odd gleam in the god's eye; a look of challenge.

Tugark crouched low on one knee across from the group. His tuffed ears swivelled side to side, listening to the chatter of the morning. Still, he hoped Lady Samsara would still be willing to translate for him if need be. Lady Samsara looked to her right at Tugark. She couldn't help but to think of him like a giant friendly house cat. Her hand reached out and scratched the beast behind his ear. She was developing a fondness for the creature. It was a curious thing to Lady Samsara. She usually hunted beasts, not keep them as her friend.

The beast's eyes grew half lidded, a soft rumble escaping from him as Lady Samsara scratched his ear.

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Curtana Lierre Character Portrait: Dhaelhel Character Portrait: Jarlas Fraiture Character Portrait: Al'Kaera Character Portrait: The Guardian Character Portrait: Nachytsm
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#, as written by Maree
They were gathered enough, Al'Kaera decided. "Your attention, everyone," he demands at last. Molko and Glixenheimer finished handing out plates of food- everyone had one, either in their hands or placed nearby, even Nachytsm. He didn't touch it, of course, on guard as he was. Then the two short men returned to their own seats, Glixenheimer on one end of the fire, and Molko next to Selwen and Dejah.

Once the activity had died down a bit, Molko raises a banner from Al'Kaera's chair via some switch that Glixenheimer had provided. The banner was that of Nalinathris, featuring a mountain eclipsed by a tree, though there was a single, deliberate tear down the center of the standard.

"Thank you all for being here," Al'Kaera begins, with particular attention to Anaree and the others who he did not know personally. "I will try and keep this brief that we may get underway. First, I would like to get more formal introductions. I am Aderas Keegan," he states firmly, using his true name for all of them to hear. In particular, Molko seemed shocked to hear him use it so openly. "I go by Al'Kaera outside of this war camp," he adds. Then, he looks to Maree and taps her arm, that she might introduce herself next.

Maree did not stand. She gently denied Anaree's offer of the fork so that she could speak. "Maree Erd Lumariale," she said, using her full name. "Maree shall do just fine."

"Just Ana," the young elven girl beside Maree offered. She couldn't give them her full name. It would have been far too obvious who she was if she had. Anaree didn't like lying to her parents, but it was a necessity. It made her stomach turn and she had the urge to say her full name. Instead, the girl just started shoveling food into her own mouth to keep it quiet.

There was a moment of silence as Nachytsm obliviously stood waiting for the proceedings to continue, unaware that it was his turn. After noticing Aderas' eyes on him, apparently expecting him to introduce himself- for once, which was a bit strange- he rumbles out his name. "Nachytsm." He then, to ensure that the same mistake did not happen twice, gestures to Nel, in his armor, who was now happily picking away at the rabbit he'd set next to her. "Nelnethanya."

"Lady Samsara," the woman said as she stood up. She offered a gracious bow to those gathered around. A mischeivous smile spread across her face. "I am honored to be invited on this most glorious hunt. I shall not disappoint and neither shall my dear companion," the Lady said as she gestured at Tugark.

"This is Tugark but you will have to excuse him. He understands your language but is not well equipped to speaking it. I'm not sure what he is but I found him in a cavernous temple inside the mountain. He will be joining on the hunt as well," Lady Samsara said for Tugark. Tugark seemed to nod slightly, as if agreeing with Samsara. She sat back down and continued to scratch the beast behind his ear. The beast continued to rumble his 'purr'.

Molko stands himself up in his chair, so that he could be easily be seen by everyone. "Molko of th' Firestorm Clan," he says, bowing in a gracious Dwarven fashion. As Molko introduced himsef, Anaree finished her plate and stole Nachytsm's. He wasn't going to eat it anyway. It was cooked. "Nalinathrian Legionnaire," Molko adds after righting himself. "And personal Tactician t' Lord Keegan," he goes on, bowing deeply again towards Aderas. Then, in Drow, he says softly to Dejah, "Introduce yourself, My Lady," he suggests. "Or would you rather I introduce you?"

Dejah looked up at Molko and blinked. He had done it again. The dwarf had called her a Lady. Now was not the time but later she would have to tell him that she was not worthy of such a title. "Dejah Thoris," the woman spoke. Her name was the only words she knew in the common tongue. "Drow slave," she added in her first language. Her eyes dropped down to her untouched plate. Molko widens his eyes, though he leaves that untranslated, instead sitting back down. He would have to talk to her later. Jarlas, too, understood what she said, and looks at her with a mixed expression of surprise and indignation. He didn't realize that she spoke Drow, and it didn't register that Molko had been speaking the foreign language until that moment. He'd have to talk to her later, he figured. Dwarves tended to be pretty blunt about those things, he figured. And Jarlas wasn't blunt at all.

Selwen was clueless to Dejah's origins, though she was pleased to have heard her full name. Standing and taking a bow, she too introduces herself. "Selwen, of the Twilight Guard." Short and simple, she seats herself again, with her gaze trailing across Dejah for a moment before she looks at Dhaelhel, who was next in line.

Dhaelhel in all his glory, rose up from his nest-chair in one swift and graceful move. His wings glowed in the bask of the morning sun. It was not difficult to picture him as a god. His eyes briefly met Curtana before the fallen god spoke. "The Old God of the Sky of Arcanum, Dhaelhel," he said, pronouncing his name Day'ell. He folded his wings behind him and sat back down on his chair.

Glixenheimer had an expression of glee fixated on his face. He had been eagerly awaiting the chance to introduce himself, again, in such a formal fashion. Despite the grim circumstances, he decided he would utilize his full title. Barely even waiting for Dhaelhel to sit down, he stands to his full, unimposing height. "I am Techno-Engineering Assassin Glixenheimer Bolargian Gibnoticous, Former Grand-Master of the Thirtieth-by-Fifteenth Largest Under-precinct pertaining to Gnomish and other Underdwelling Folk, in the second Quarter of the Grand Capital City of Nalinathris, Greatest Mountain-home and Elf-land, in which-" Molko cuts him off by clearing his throat.
"That'll do, lad," he says. Glixenheimer gives him a somewhat sad look before sitting back down and taking a deep breath. For Molko, however, it was something painful to hear through Glixenheimer's titles all that they had lost.

Curtana looked around and saw that it was her turn. Sighing softly as she stood, she looked to them all as she straightened her skirt/shorts. After the last introduction, she felt her name was a bit simple. "I am Curtana.. Just Curtana." She said simply. "I'm of no family, nor clan.." She then sat down, a slight blush upon her face.

Jarlas stands up, looking around silently. Compared to the individual many of them had seen so far, he was being practically regal. He rests his eyes on Curtana for a moment. "Well, y'can consider us all family, I think," he says boldly. Then he looks around at the rest of the people he didn't know, or know well. "M'names Jarlas Fraiture. I'm a Ranger in th' King's private Guard. Also a Zombie," he adds with a tinge of disgust. Then he sits back down and crosses one leg over the other, peering at Aderas expectantly.

Aderas was shocked as he looks at Jarlas. He hadn't spoken with the man enough, nor been in his company, to notice Jarlas' pallor was due to him being apparently undead. That seemed to come as a brutal blow to him. Molko and Glixenheimer, too, seemed to be surprised by this, And Selwen seemed practically outraged. She, among all of them, should have noticed; after all, she was a Paladin. She remained seated, though she was glaring daggers at the dead Jarlas. Dejah looked up at Selwen and placed a hand on the woman's knee. Her eyes told Dejah that she was upset and the ranger attempted to calm her in whatever manner she could. Selwen places her hand over Dejah's, taking comfort in the action.

Composing himself, Aderas clears his throat slightly and stands, looking around at the rest of the group. "For those who are not aware, our purpose is singular; A Dark influence has begun to spread in this world. Dhaelhel," he says, gesturing to the man, "Has the power to stop this. In order to unlock that power, we need to retrieve his lost feathers. How many have you yet to recover, Dhaelhel?" He looks towards the man.

Dhaelhel stood from his seat to address the gathering. "There are six more that need to be found. All of them must be retrieved if I am to achieve Ascension," he said. There was a grave look on his face. The fallen god knew something that only one of their number knew. "It is imperative that I achieve Ascension. If I do not and Naar is able to get his hands on my feathers..." Dhaelhel fell silent for a moment to brood on what would become of this world.

Aderas interjects at that point. "Terrible things will befall the planet."

"And it will only be the first," Dhaelhel finished. He sat back down.

"To that end, while our primary objective is to seek out and return these feathers to Dhaelhel, we will not be alone. There will be opposition, of that we can be certain. Selwen," he says, gesturing to the woman. Dejah jerked her hand away as attention fell on Selwen. "Was attacked by Daemons before she was found and brought here. I have little doubt in my mind that this is coincidence."

Molko, sensing his moment, stands and clears his own throat. "I've designa'ed our strike teams as such," he begins, bringing attention to the lists and notes he had been working on through the night. "Lord Keegan, Lady Maree, an' Nachytsm will be 'eadin' our primary Group. Given tha' th' two o' them are important, I think our best course f'r them woul' be investigatin' a proper meetin' place fer us." He nods to Aderas. "An I'll go on 'bou' tha' later." Anaree was silently outraged! She could not be separated from those three. Not yet. Quickly she began devising a plan in her mind. Her eyes looked up at Nachytsm and stared intently.

He looks towards Selwen and Dejah beside him. "With th' Paladin's woun's 'ealed, an' with Lady Dejah bein' of sorts to stay by 'er side, I'll be accompanyin' them fer Group two, so I kin translate." Selwen finally breaks her gaze from Jarlas to look over at the Dwarf, nodding her approval before she looks down at Dejah. The dark-haired woman was making sure that everything on her plate was at it had been earlier; that nothing had moved. She didn't understand a single word that anyone was saying so it was moot to pay any attention.

Molko continues again. "Lady Samsara, Master Tugark, an' Techno-Engineer Glixen'eimer will be Group Three," he says, looking around at the three of them, who were somewhat scattered around camp. Glixenheimer didn't seem to mind his chosen companions; the noble Lady Samsara and her curious, massive beast friend Tugark would be interesting travelling companions.

"Very well," Lady Samsara acknowledged. Tugark gave a toothy grin to Glix. "I look forward to traveling with you." He said, which was translated by Lady Samsara.
"Oh," he replies, smiling up at Samsara and Tugark. "Quite reciprociated, I assure you!"

"Las'ly," Molko says, looking towards Jarlas. "Jarlas'll take Dhaelhel, Curtana, an' Ana."

Jarlas just nods as a form of reply. He had mixed feelings about that arrangement; maybe if Dhaelhel turned back into a woman he'd be fine with it, but there had opened a distinct rift between the two since Curtana became... something Jarlas wasn't entirely willing to admit to. Curtana winced at the announcement. Oh boy. Dhaelhel looked displeased too.

Anaree was not pleased with what she had decided but she had to do it. She had to witness what her family had gone through and figure out who her brother was. In order to do that, Anaree was going to have to plead with her father. She looked away from Nachytsm and then looked at Al'Kaera.

"I don't want to leave her. I can help you take care of her," Anaree said in a soft voice to her father. He would know that she was talking about Maree. "She needs the help," she added. Maree's face turned toward Anaree's voice. A kind smile rose on her lips.

Jarlas decides to speak up as well. "I'd be fine with that," he says, nodding towards Anaree. "I'm sure they'll need more 'elp than we will. Who's gonna mess with a Ranger an' a God," he asks, jokingly.

Aderas, too, nods. "I would appreciate it," he says earnestly to Anaree. He knew that, if it came to battle, Nachytsm may need his help. Having someone able to at least watch over his wife would be a comfort.

It took Nachytsm a moment to realize that Anaree coming with them meant that she would be around him, too. He wondered for a moment if that was relevant, but, looking down on her, it did seem like she was legitimately interested in helping Maree. He would need to keep an eye on her.

Molko nods somewhat with the shifting about, adjusting his notes. "A'righ', then. Anyone else 'ave a problem with th' arrangements," he asks, looking around. Dhaelhel almost spoke up but he did not want to risk being separated from Curtana. The fallen god kept his mouth shut and crossed his arms across his expansive chest. Curtana almost piped up as well, but for completely different reasons than Dhaelhel, she kept quiet. It was not worth offending the god/goddess.

Seeing no conflicts, Aderas nods. "Very well then. I realize it may be a bit short notice, but we prepare to leave now." He nods to Jarlas, who he would have break camp. And so he does. Going into each building first, to make sure nobody was inside, he takes out his silver rod and aims it at each structure in turn, and, with a 'pop', the building simply disappears. A keen eye might see a small speck flit into the rod's front.

Molko turns and translates for Dejah, "We're preparing to leave now. You should eat," he says, nodding to her untouched plate. "You're allowed to."

"But," Dejah said as her eyes flicked to Selwen. "She gave it to me." If he didn't know she was a former slave, Molko would have found that dedication adorable. Looking at Selwen, he clears his throat. "Ach, lass. She kin eat, aye?"

Selwen blinks, having been pondering what she may need on the journey, among other things. Looking at Molko, then almost laughing she looks at Dejah. "Of course," she nods, picking the plate up and offering it to Dejah again. "She says you can," Molko translates for her. Dejah took the plate from Selwen's hands. Her fingers curled around it very gently as she took it. Dejah gave them both a nod and began to eat, savoring each bite of the food. Selwen smiles at her and stands. "I need to gather my things. I will come back," Molko translates this to Dejah as well, before he too begins making preparations.

"Uh... F-" Anaree scowled and clenched a fist. She bit the inside of her cheek. "I know a place where we can set up a rendezvous camp," Anaree said to anyone that was listening. Aderas was, though he had stood up next to Maree to help her do the same, when she was ready. He had scarcely touched his food, though he would wait until she finished eating before moving out. "Molko suggested an area as well," he said, though the Dwarf had not elaborated on that as of yet. "I would listen to your suggestion all the same. Perhaps the two of you can convene with me on the matter." He was nothing short of courteous to her.

"It's just an old manor that was turned into a fort for a war a long time ago. It..." Anaree sighed, remembering. "It's really nothing special but it has a good location and well hidden from prying eyes. Easy to defend if the time ever comes." A small sadness came over Anaree and she stood.

"I will go talk to Molko," the girl told Aderas before she left him to care for her mother.

The Dwarf walks out of his fortress before giving Jarlas the 'OK' to do away with it. From there, he had gathered even more supplies; a vast array of weaponry, rope, chain, a few spare sets of armor, and probably about a years worth of food and basic ammenities. And all of it was more or less concealed in a backpack that seemed no larger than a tower shield. He begins to make his way back towards where Dejah was eating.

Anaree caught up to Molko first. "Ah, Molko," she interrupted him. "I know of a really good place to set up camp. I'm sure you already have one in mind, but you have to trust me on this one. I know this place very well and Valhaven is a great place to keep Maree and Aderas safe. It'd be easy for Nachytsm to keep watch and it's well hidden in a tame forest." He looks up at her in surprise, stopping cold. "Oh, aye," he asks, genuinely curious. "I'm no' too f'miliar with th' lan'scape aroun' these parts. Kin yeh tell me more 'bou' it?" Anaree nodded and started listing off the benefits of Valhaven along with its weaknesses. He would want to know about those too.

After finishing off the last of the camp structures- and the campfire and most of the chairs- Jarlas clears his throat somewhat. "Before we all go our separate ways, I've a question! Does anyone have what could be considered a Legendary Weapon?"

Lady Samsara tilted her head curiously at Jarlas's question. "Do you have a Legendary Weapon," she asked Tugark, "Aside from the one you are looking for?" Tugark blinked but shook his shaggy head. "My sword and shield are the only weapons I own.." He muttered. He turned to Jarlas. "Why does he need one?" "Oh, best not to pry into other's business, Tugark. Come now, time to get ready for our new adventure." Lady Samsara led Tugark away so they could ready themselves as well. Tugark pulled his snout slightly, as he did whenever he was either nervous or uncertain. "Yes, but he asked..." He muttered.

Dhaelhel stood from his nest-chair and walked directly to Al'Kaera. "We must speak, you and I. Alone," the fallen god said to him. Dhaelhel glanced at Maree and his eyes softened. "It is very important for you to hear."

Al'Kaera looks up at Dhaelhel and nods, before turning to Nachytsm. "Nachytsm, please attend to Maree's needs while I am away. I will not be long." He stoops and plants a gentle kiss on Maree's cheek before muttering to her softly, first in Nalinathrian and then in Common, "I will be by your side soon." Then, he stands upright and nods to Dhaelhel, following him.

Nachytsm blinks. He wasn't sure exactly how to take care of Aderas' wife. "Uh," he replies simply, dropping the scant remains of his rabbit and stooping to wipe his hands on the grass, before he stands close to Maree. He was nervous, uncertain. He didn't do well with women, and taking care of Aderas' wife was going to be troublesome, even for a few moments.

"H-Hold that thought," Anaree said to Molko. She turned and went over to her mother and Nachytsm, who of course looked absolutely clueless. She had overheard her father tell Nachytsm to take care of Maree. She had faith in Nachytsm when it came to protecting people, but caring for them? It made the girl nervous. As she passed Nachytsm, Anaree scolded him. "You better eat all of that rabbit," Anaree said to him. "And go wash your hands properly!" She shooed him with a gesture and then took her mother inside Al'Kaera's tent to get her mother ready.

Brutally admonished and left alone outside, Nachytsm picks up the rabbit and stuffs it in his mouth before spotting Curtana's bubbling brook. "Hph," he says briefly to Nel, who clucks up to him uncertainly. She had finished her meal long ago, leaving only the rabbit's bones clanking about in Nachytsm's armor.

Jarlas sighs, having received no weapons. He knew that Aderas' bow could account, but he didn't want to risk taking that. Having lost that cause, he goes to find Curtana. Curtana was sitting where she had been the entire time, her knees hugged to her chest. She seemed to be muttering to herself, softly. She was saying her goodbyes to her friends, the spirits that had lived with her for the brief months she had stayed in their part of the forest. "Hey," Jarlas says simply, coming up behind her. She turned slightly, giving Jarlas a small smile. "Hey.." She replied. "Seeing as we're gonna be travelin' together, an' all, you want your own 'tent'?" A gentleman all of a sudden? It was surely too much! "I can mark one to ya. They're pretty well impenetrable, to outside, and all. Made 'em myself." Curtana concidered it for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I think that would be nice.." She murmured. Jarlas was visibly put at ease by her acceptance. "I just feel uneasy with.." She stopped suddenly, shaking her head. "No, never mind. A tent would be great.." She finished. "A'right, sure. Sounds like a plan! You got any requests? Styles, uh... special features?" Curtana flinched. "Unless you could make it possible where no one enters the tent without my permission, I'll just take a plain one.." "Done and done!" Jarlas bore a smile on his face then, as he whips out the rod and twirls it about his fingers a moment. "I'll have it done before we leave. So... I'll see you later!" With that, he looks around for a moment before heading towards the small cave entrance Curtana had mentioned was her home.


Leading Aderas away from the hustle of camp, Dhaelhel found a relatively secure spot in the trees nearby the camp. They would be able to see what was happening in the camp but the others would not necessarily be able to see them. Dhaelhel paced back and forth for a moment, gathering his thoughts.

Finally he said, "Lumariale's blindness can be cured, but at a cost."

"A cost," Aderas echoes, looking the man over briefly. Dealing with a God was always a matter of cost, he thought.

"Innocence, Al'Kaera, innocence. I tried to tell you earlier but you would not listen. There is a force powerful enough to exorcise Naar from a person's body. It..." Dhaelhel stopped and dropped his eyes from the elven man. Dhaelhel knew exactly what would happen if Aderas chose to take the path to cure his wife of Naar. But for the god's own selfish reasons, he needed Maree whole. Dhaelhel didn't say a word.

"A child," Dhaelhel simply stated.

Aderas was silent for a moment before the impact of what he was suggesting hit him. "You're saying, Dhaelhel, that in order to preserve Maree... we must sacrifice a child? And I presume this must be... of our own blood."

"You need only to carry one," Dhaelhel lied, but it was not a full lie. Dhaelhel would be more than capable of killing the child if need be. He knew what would come of it; knew what Naar would plan to do with a child in a person that was becoming his avatar. Dhaelhel could not suffer for the elven woman to be aligned with Naar, and he knew that Aderas would not be able to bear it either.

"Maree is afflicted with Naar. He placed a part of himself inside of her when she saw him in my memories. She will come under his influence and become his avatar; his vessel, a slave to Naar. A child will tear him from her body and leave her whole," Dhaelhel explained.

Aderas was not so easily fooled. "And what happens to the Child, then?" He fixed a cold, steel colored gaze on the God.

"Does it matter what happens to the child if it helps keep your wife alive?" Dhaelhel challenged.

The words gave him pause for a moment. But only a moment. "Yes," he decides. "I may have lost everything I hold dear save for her, but if I am bringing a life into this world, I want to know its fate. I am made of sterner material than you may give me credit for, Dhaelhel."

"The child will need to be killed. Naar will have embodied himself into the child." The truth had been set out before Aderas.

That took the wind out of his sails a bit. He looks away from Dhaelhel slowly, towards the camp, where he knew Maree waited. He could have easily said he would slay the child; he would have possibly done more heinous acts to save his own world. Even were it his own flesh and blood. But, when the time came, he wondered if his resolve would hold. "Does Maree know," he asks, an edge to his voice.

"Lumariale knows," Dhaelhel said to Aderas. "I have seen into her heart. She is willing to sacrifice anything necessary in order to preserve more than just herself. She is a true protector. If you doubt me, speak to her."

Aderas simply shakes his head. "I do not doubt you. If she is aware of what must be done... then I will... deal with it, when the time comes." He sighs somewhat, shaking his head. "So much has happened in so little time. It is almost too much to bear."

"If you cannot deal with it when the times comes, I shall aid you," Dhaelhel said, leaving no room for argument. The unborn child's fate had been sealed. Dhaelhel turned away from Aderas and headed back into camp.

Aderas, too, heads back into the camp. He was glad Maree would not be able to read his eyes, and see the pain lying therein. He could mask his voice, his body language, even his mind, but his eyes were his weak spot.

When they had returned, Aderas made sure to find Nachytsm before heading to his dwelling, which was the last one in the Camp. Stepping inside, he clears his throat as he peers about for Anaree and Maree; the place was littered with some few personal belongings of his, more or less the only parts of his life that had survived the Culling.