Forest of the Fall: A Journey Onward

[Tiko]

(Post co-wrriten by Wraith, Script, Alasund De'astio, Tiko, and NotAFlyingToy)

It was as if the single syllable set the sentinel free to exercise his nature. The Mira were bred for this, and had never had truer cause. Blood for blood. So it had been, so it always would be. There was no warning for his intended target. The male might have no magic of his own, but he understood its use, and the intended directive given by the female who seemed to be in charge. The sound that escaped the beast of a creature was feral in nature, and in his spring he seemed less humanoid, than cat for the baring of fangs that dropped white against the darkness of his fur. Ears laid back, and there was no weapon in hand as he leapt to close the distance to Talos.

At the back of the group himself, Dorian was quick to react to the strike. With a burst of speed and force that propelled him into the air, the wood elf struck Saryth mid-flight, and though his form was far lighter than the Mira's it was enough to put a stop to the pounce before Talos was threatened. Quick as a flash, his twin blades were in his hand and readied defensively as he spun upwards into a low fighting stance moments after the two landed.

Upon hearing the order from his father, Myst's great blade whispered from it's sheath faster than something that large should move. And the somewhat indecisive rage was replaced with a more solid fury. Instead of the more feral pounce employed by his compatriot, Myst's approach was a measured build up to a run, blade in an odd position behind him, but one which allowed flexibility in the approach to the actual attack. Wielding the two handed great sword with easy confidence, the young Mira moved to cover the flank not assaulted by the Sentinel Captain.

All across the group of outsiders, weapons were hastily drawn and spells readied - though they were outnumbered, they needed but stall for time until Talos' portal opened. "Form a line, keep Talos safe," Emma was barking, "We need that portal open!"

“Stop!” Fiera's voice cut out across the din as she separated from the crowd of gathering Mira. “Haven't there been enough dead already, Goliath?”

The weight of the elf was not quite negligible, there was enough contact made there to deflect the trajectory of the Mira sentinel mid launch, unfortunately for the one who had chosen to sacrifice himself for the cause. Saryth did not fall out of the air so much as land, forearms extended to make stabalizing contact with the earth under him, and for an instant the Mira was in a four limbed crouch as a dark head whipped around to pinpoint the source of interference.

It was near instantaneous, the drop back onto his haunches that halted the Mira's forward progress. There were one, maybe two voices in that society that would have the power to cull the sentinel's lock on a kill in blood lust, and Fiera's was one of them. He wouldn't move from his stance, but the lips remained peeled back from fangs, and the wrinkle of the skin over them in his muzzle would betray how much- how very much the sentinel wished that hold to be lifted.

Myst paused midstep, like a frozen statue. The greatsword dropped inch by inch, until it's point was sitting neatly amongst the dirt to the left of the young Mira. His head turned to stare at his mother's order to stop. The two authorities of the Mira village, the Shief and the Shamana, had never really clashed in his memory. Not publically in the least. And them being his parents made the encounter even more shocking.

Standing almost slack-jawed, he waited for his father's response. Deaf to the words of all others.

Goliath turned at the sound of his mate’s call, his eyes seeking hers throughout the chaos. His frown was evident, brows furrowed in thought as he beheld her. “There will be more, Shamana, if their lot are allowed to continue to bring destruction upon our heads! They’ve done nothing but cause foul things while they’ve been in contact with us.”

He turned back towards the group, a low growl erupting from him. “The gravest error I’ve made is when we didn’t slay them to a man when we first spotted them.”

"Charming..." Emma muttered. "When your greatest regret in life is not ki-" the blood mage was interrupted by a sharp jab to the ribs from Ruan, and quieted into vague, incoherent mutterings.

Meanwhile Brent seemed unimpressed by the change in events. "Best keep that portal coming," he muttered under his breath to Talos.

“The spirits have spoken," Fiera replied to Goliath. "They foretell of two paths that lay before us, one will lead to our destruction, the other to our salvation. Are we to question the wisdom of Le'thorian in bringing us together? What is done is done, we must put aside our losses and look to the future of the Mira.”

Saryth was of the opinion held by his shief, in this instance, despite the respect held for the shamana, but his place was to follow orders and hers had been the last given. Until Goliath saw fit to counter it, if he did, the sentinel was holding his line. He did concede however to rising to his full height again, and turning to face the direction of the conversation between the two taking place. When he did speak, it was in a manner that might support both their causes.

"Their presence is trouble. Let them be gone, or die." At this point he found himself caring for nothing, save that this plague be removed from their lives. The Mira had made sure however, to retain that flanking position that would allow him influence over the collected bodies still, if that final order came.

“It is not so simple, Saryth,” Fiera replied. “Groth lies slain, and our borders are unprotected. A time of great change is upon us, and sending them away will not divert that now. Our way, is the way of the Mira. We must honor our debt to Le'thorian, and to the forest. The Mira will accompany the foreigners on their journey. Such is the will of our ancestors.”

Goliath’s eyes darted to Saryth as he spoke, and then back to his mate, pondering her words and actions. Despite his desire to destroy this group of people, and despite his instinct that they were nothing but a group of leeches, he knew he could not disobey the will of the Ancestors.

Finally, after some time, the Shief spoke. “It will be as you suggest, though I cannot allow for our dead to go unredeemed, Shamana.” He stated. “These will have their lives, and their Mira escort. And we will discuss what is to be done with the offender. I won’t see him go unpunished.”

Emma sighed, "And so we go full circle. I assure you, I have nor did I ever have any intentions of letting the one responsible go unpunished. But it falls to our justice system in cooperation with your own to decide what that punishment will be, and for the Light's sake, we should at least let it wait till we're not all under imminent threat from the void."

Goliath cocked his head, his straying from his mate to reach a halfway point between Emma and the Shamana. “He slew Mira, and so he should be subject to Mira laws. However, I find merit in what you say. His punishment and a full discussion of crimes committed can wait until after we complete this journey.”

He turned to fully face the leader of the outsiders. “Do you find this acceptable?” It was a weak attempt at sounding diplomatic, true - but the Shief got the sense that the blood mage didn’t much care for diplomacy either.

The blood mage turned to Talos, "Drop the portal. Turns out we're hanging around after all." she said, before looking back to Goliath. "Once we're done with this all, you have my word that he'll see justice that both our sides find appropriate."

Fiera nodded her assent. “Then it is decided. The fate of the foreigner will be postponed.”

Though clearly reluctant, Talos nodded, and the opening in the air closed with a flash. He just hoped Emma knew what she was doing around these ... volatile people. He somehow would have prefered to have Ciela here for dealing with them. Emma had a tendency to mix poorly with those easily angered.

Nodding at the group, he gave a jerk of his head to his scouts, signal enough for them to fall back. “Saryth, Myst? Come.”

He turned on his heel, striding back towards the village, expecting the group to fall in. His path took him past his mate, where he gave her but the barest of glances before continuing forwards. “We must discuss travel arrangements.”

As much attention as the strangers had had from the sentinel up to that point, it was as if they ceased to exist after one last hard look. A smooth, feline prowl took Saryth through whatever bodies were still clustered in that group, toward the shief who stood on the other side. He had a feeling he knew the direction this was headed, and he wasn't sure he was thrilled about it. The hard, low flick of his tail might have betrayed as much. Goliath's final words confirmed his suspicions, and the shief would suffer the sound of the low grunt of displeasure that escaped the male. Beyond that, no further protest was made.

If worse came to worse, the strangers could be left to fend for themselves if they forgot in whose hands they were choosing to place their lives, and got difficult.

Shaking his head once, Myst twisted the blade around and placed it carefully back in it's sheath. Having put away his weapon, he walked around the group of outsiders, making his way over to where his father and the others were leaving.

The tribe hadn't sent anything beyond the boundries of the land protected by Groth in as long as the young Mira recalled, and for the first time, he wondered what kind of place was the origin of the motly party that caused such misfortune...

And then he shook the thought from his head as he fell in step with the rest.

[Tiko]

(Post co-written by Script, Imehal and Tiko)

As the Mira departed, Emma let out a relieved sigh. The tension in the air ebbed away and weapons were sheathed. "When I get my hands on that light forsaken, void-blasted half-wit of a half elf, he is going to wish that I'd handed him over to have his head cut off..." Emma muttered under her breath, scowling, "If that bloody spirit-woman hadn't told me to keep him alive I swear..."

Whilst Emma continued her mutterings, Talos shook his head, eyes finding Dorian to the rear of the group. "I owe you one for that tackle, friend," he said, "I doubt I would have had the time to react if you hadn't intervened."

Still in the process of sheathing his weapons, Dorian looked up at Talos' voice, offering the hooded man a bright smile. "It's no trouble. Besides, now I can add 'wrestling with wild beasts' to my list of accolades. You practically did me a favour!"

"They are not beasts!" Parlina interrupted, huffing her displeasure. "Just because they are not like you does not make them savages."

Dorian turned his attention to Parlina, raising an eyebrow, "Forgive me for my use of terminology, druidess, but given another fifteen seconds I'm quite confident my throat would have been on the floor. I'm not so inclined to hedge my words after such an encounter. That said, if it wasn't obvious, I was speaking largely in jest. And wild-beast sounds a lot more impressive than 'furred individual', at least to me." The silver-haired elf flashed a smile, "I've had knowledge of the Mira for many years, I'm well aware they're more than animals. An animal can't organise a raiding party."

The look of indignation softened, and Parlina smiled back with a brief nod. "I'm sorry too."

“So, here's a question. Where is Niv?” Brent suddenly asked. “Or am I the only one concerned about what trouble his absence is going to cause us this time.”

Emma grimaced, "If only his disappearing acts were the most irritating thing about him," she muttered, looking to Dorian "You were the last person I saw him with, did he give any indication where he was going?"

Shrugging, the hunter shook his head, "Not really, he gave the impression he was likely to be finding some space to fume over one thing or another," Dorian replied, "Though I got the impression he's just as likely to be watching us from the treetops..."

“I'll go look for him,” Ruan replied with a shake of his head. “If we're going to make any headway before dark, we need to set out soon.”

[Tiko]

(Post co-written by Zephyr, Script, and Tiko)

A light breeze swayed through the treetops, blowing the few strands of raven-black hair that had freed themselves from the low ponytail Niv wore. He heaved a sigh, allowing it to escape with the passing gust, a slight scowl sourly set upon his visage. Why did he have to make such a choice? On one hand he was faced with eternal damnation; the denial of his return to fey... at least, that is what the tree-lady had implied... And on the other hand, he was faced with splitting from his party and most likely turning down potentially the biggest pay he'd ever be likely to receive to live a life endebted to some spirit that, prior to today, he'd had no knowledge of. Could her words even be trusted? She had demonstrated enormous power, so he didn't exactly doubt her. Nonetheless, who was she to define his role in life? That, if anything, was what he valued most; his freedom, and with the whims of some high-and-mighty apparition, it seemed as though he had no choice.

The halfling let out a grumble, his rage boiling over again as he clutched at the bark of the bough of the old tree which he sat perched upon. No. He wouldn't let the woman's words dissuade him. He would remain with his party, if only out of sheer defiance towards her will. Plus, he had unfinished business with a certain individual. Yes. He would stay.

He rose with determination, leaping nimbly to the ground and made way to regroup. It took him a few minutes before the encampment came in to view. His party seemed distracted, but by what he did not know. They were chatting amongst themselves animatedly, though the tones in their collective utterances seemed... troubled. He lithely approached them, none seeming to notice his presence.

He cleared his throat in attempt to get their attention. "Did I miss something?"

"Oh, not much," Emma replied, turning to face Niv and narrowing her eyes, "Just a narrowly averted massacre resulting from our new 'friends' learning about the two guards you killed. Trust me, when we're done with this, I will personally make sure that comes back to bite you. But for now, what's done is done."

Niv cocked an eyebrow, scoffing indignantly. "Well, pardon me for trying to save your sorry asses. Remind me not to do it again."

Talos folded his arms, "In Anivre's favour, I think we were all somewhat disposed to think of the Mira as enemies at that time. They had just killed Lianna and wounded Erina. We had yet to learn of the misunderstanding that caused that. It's a fine mess where nobody is really right."

Emma grimaced, "Yes, you're right I suppose, as much as I enjoy blaming Niv for everything..."

Brent snorted a laugh. "Who doesn't," he muttered. Niv smirked at the brute of a man in mild amusement.

"...I can't say I didn't feel like murdering something only shortly before that. Which is why we're going to ignore the fact it happened until such a time as I can hand you off to Ciela and Loreia, and be done with it." Emma sighed, "Now all we can do is wait for the Mira to finish whatever discussion they're having. It really has been a fun day, hasn't it?" The blood mage shook her head and muttered something inaudible about interfering spirits under her breath.

"I... guess I'll accept that as an apology?" The half-elf snickered, crossing his arms.

[Tiko]

(Post co-written by NotAFlyingToy, Tiko, Wraith, and Alasund De'astio)

The early afternoon sun did little to penetrate the mood of the meetingplace; thunderous and controlled, calm and angry, combining to be a perfect storm of emotion.

Standing just inside the doorway was Goliath, his back ramrod straight, eyes taking in those assembled - taking in the Shamana, Leonis, and Gremroth individually, his fists clenching and relaxing in alternation. To his left and right stood Myst and Saryth, his chosen scouts.

"We're all know why we've assembled." Goliath began, simply. "But to remind everyone present; it is the Le'thorian's wish that we escort the outsiders across the valley, and we're to assist them in diplomacy once they've safely crossed."

He said the word without malice, though he certainly felt it. "These two warriors I'll bring with me; Myst, as the next Sheif, will need to learn how to conduct himself. Saryth, because he's a warrior I trust. Gremroth, you'll remain here in my stead."

Goliath lingered his gaze upon Fiera for a moment, before glancing back to Leonis. "We'll return once the contact with the villages have been established. Is there anything to be added?"

Gremroth nodded his assent without word, but Leonis at his side grunted his disapproval. “That's all well and fine, but aren't you forgetting someone?” the elder remarked.

Goliath's eyes widened, before surveying the room again. "A journey of this endeavor doesn't suit a warrior your age, Elder."

“Balderdash, there's still bite in me yet,” Leonis barked with a laugh. “I have seen all there is to see this side of the forest. If you think I'm going to just sit around here growing old, while I pass up the one chance to see what lays beyond, then you had best be rethinking your thoughts.” Leonis snorted stubbornly. "Besides, I would be doing your father a disservice, not to go out the same way he did.”

Goliath paused for a time, before nodding his head. "Very well then. We leave as soon as possible."

Despite the fact that the shief spoke words that might be interpreted an honor by any warrior, there was no change to the expression of the black furred Mira who stood on his flank. The sentinel knew better than to believe that there was a Mira present who Goliath did not trust, their survival depended on each other, and so took his presence for a mere matter of duty. He was no more, or less worthy. This was simply.. his mission.

Dark eyes shifted to take in the elder, Leonis, and there might hae been a gentling to the warrior's expression that would be unnoticiable to any but the most observant. For some, the heart was attuned to the future, to the cubs who grew and would be life. For the too quiet watcher and guardian, it was the past that held sway; those who had lived, had survived and thrived in ways promised to none now, in an age of darkness.

" I will scout the trail tonight.." His rich, throaty rumble was all the more noticibale, for how rarely it was heard. " It is not just the valley, where trouble could arise.." Not that it had in the past, but the outsiders had seemed to taint everything they had come into contact with. The days past should be proof enough of that. "If I am not returned before you are ready to leave, I will find you." It would be no difficult task to track a group their size through the forest.

Myst was still quite unsettled by the earlier events. Hand held tightly on the handle of his blade, pose perhaps too rigid. The emotion only just held in reign and hidden behind Myst's face. He would welcome Leonis along. The old one very much dissimilar from the shief with his unruffled demeanour.

'Will the outsiders be able to take care of themselves food-wise? They are not Mira after all.' Myst spoke slowly and quietly, a mere inquiry as an addendum to the meeting.

It was then that Fiera spoke up, having remained silent until now. "The outsiders have displayed remarkable resilience in making it this far on their own, it goes without saying that they are capable."

Silent a moment, Myst nodded once. 'It is whether they managed on resilience, or just on carried supplies.'

Goliath waved a hand at the discussion. "Whether or not they are capable, they are here. Should they starve, it is not our concern."

He turned towards Saryth, nodding at the sentinel. "You will scout the trail immediately, and we will follow behind when the outsiders are prepared. Come nightfall, expect us at Sentinel's hill - we will make camp there. Now go."

He glanced at Myst and Leonis in turn. "Prepare. It is a walk worthy of Mira ahead of us."

[Tiko]

..........

[Tiko]

(Post co-written by NotAFlyingToy and Script)

It was when the darkness slowly settled upon the forest when they arrived to the rocky outcropping, a place the Mira called "Sentinel's Hill." A thick, black tree, its gnarled roots spreading out amongst the diseased soil. The place was littered with natural cover; large grey rocks were jagged fingers stretching to the sky, forming a semi-circle around the large and sickened vegetation.

"Camp here," Goliath indicated to the outsiders, taking the single leather pouch he wore and setting it on a rock. Signalling to Myst to do the same, he leapt atop one rock, then another, and finally onto one of the thick branches of the diseased tree, settling into a crouch as his gaze roved the distance, quietly searching.

"I assume you all know how this works," he barked, once he was satisifed. "we sleep in shifts. A Mira will always be in the tree; work out who will be the sentry on the ground. Come morning, we leave."

Emma nodded her head to Goliath, "I'll take first watch - Ruan, you're second shift, Brent you're third. We'll set out as soon as we can see past our noses' ends again. Until then, it's road-rations time! Mm, my favourite."

The group began to settle down to set themselves up with their various bedrolls and blankets, a small magical fire being set in the center to keep the chill of the night at bay. The remnants of the scouting party clearly had a routine, and once they were set up, they settled into idle conversation here and there, but largely there was a weary silence over the group.

Arrow sat slightly separated from the Aelorans, his mind returning to the vision in the mists and the mark on his chest. He would have to find out more about the order he was now apparently a part of when they next returned to Sylvire's library.

[Tiko]

(Post co-written by Alasund De'astio and Imehal)

Second watch of the night, Myst sat in the dark tree, eyes roving the darkness. Natural night-sight meant the Mira were probably more effective watching than the Outsiders. In a fairly low branch, he gave up the sight-lines from the upper branches in exchange for maneuverability and an easy way to warn the watcher on the ground.

It was unlikely he'd be needed tonight, the calm winds and campsite boded well for being undisturbed, though of course, you couldn't count on it. You always kept vigilant, no matter how unlikely there was to be an attack. Eyes quickly scanning the perimeter again, he moved to shift positions slightly, to change the range of his vision and keep an eye on the 'blind spot' created by the trunk of the tree.

"Hey, is someone up there?" Parlina pushed off the tree, the words surprisingly loud in the night's silence. Little green spirits manifested, acting like a guide through the darkness as they rose through the lowest branches to hover beside Myst for precious seconds before making their way back to the druid on the ground, wary green eyes relaxing at the silent message. "You're one of the Mira aren't you?"

Glancing down quite warily, Myst half-relaxed when he saw the younger girl. Of the outsiders, she was the one that least perturbed him, and that he was sure he had respect for. 'Yes.' He replied. 'Why are you up?' he added, far more brusquely than he initially intended.

Parlina smiled as she shrugged; gestures that would have been missed if not for the Mira's excellent vision. "I haven't slept well since leaving the monastery," she replied honestly, peering up in the dark shadows of branches and leaves. Her movements were stiff and halting, as if Parlina had difficulty being upright though there was no trace of it in her expression or words.

One small pale hand came to rest on the bark of the tree that Myst was perched in, fingers splayed as she stood in silence listening to the chattering of her spirits, nodding slowly to herself. "I don't think we've been introduced properly, have we? I'm Parlina."

So they came from a .. monastery? The word rang unfamiliar in his mind. He'd heard it in passing before... 'Myst. So-' He cut himself off as a small realisation of what he was saying hit him.

Then, a small pause later, a niggling memory flickered to the forefront of his mind. 'You are a Shamana of the Outsiders?' He asks, somewhat ... carefully. Shamana were never seen outside the Mira. Or, not prior to this. The idea almost intrigued him, and it made sense with Le'thorian ordering their aid.

Thoughtfully Parlina considered his question. She leant back against the rough bark of the tree, letting her spirits keep a track on Myst's position without giving away his position. "Hmm, I guess so! I hear the spirits the same as Lady Fiera, and you call her Shamana. I'm called a druid in my world though - one who communes with the spirits and acts as a conduit for their will."

She turned, staring up into the lowest branches for a moment before she found herself aided by a gust of wind to the nearest one. Her hands gripped tightly around it, pulling herself up with a frown of effort to sit half-obscured in the leaves. "They - the spirits I mean - are confused by your people. You're protected from their effects in a way that few are. It's a little funny actually," Parlina explained as green sparks bobbed around her in a way that made her laugh, "They are so old and they're confused by a race so young."

Myst opened his mouth, then closed it snap shut. He wanted so badly to growl out 'Young?!?', but held himself in control. Though, the slight change was audible. 'Le'thorian's gift.' The simple reply.

Grabbing a hold of himself, he turned and watched the perimeter again, unable to stop clawed hands from gripping tightly into the tree. 'Your ancestors guided you to the Mira?' He had immediately assumed that the spirits she spoke of were her ancestors.

"My ancestors?" Parlina echoed, crinkling her nose and sounding half-distracted as a great deal of spirits manifested into a visible form, floating closer to Myst as the Mira and girl conversed. "No, it was the spirits. Why would the deceased lead me to you?"

The Mira creased his brow as he half leaned back from the girl. 'The spirits aren't your ancestors?' There was a note of complete disbelief in his voice as he became entirely distracted from watching the perimeter. The spirits close unnerved him.

"No, not at all." Parlina explained breathlessly, climbing a little higher so that she could clearly see, and nearly touch, Myst. Raising a hand, one of the spirits obligingly drifted away from the Mira to the young druid, who smiled up at her companion contentedly. "Spirits are in everything that exists in both our worlds as I have seen. They are as natural an occurrence as weather, animals or anything else that exists around us."

The Mira hissed lightly as he watched spirits floating around him. 'The only spirits I've heard about before this are the ancestors.' Though, he couldn't deny those floating around him now, and had no other explanation for them. He couldn't quite sync the previous experiences he had with the explanation. 'Why have I never seen the spirits before this.' The narrowed eyes gave away his unsurity, almost defensive hostility.

"I don't know," Parlina replied honestly, forehead furrowing in thought and paying no mind to Myst's aggression towards the spirits. They did not seem particularly bothered either. "But Lady Fiera did say that druids have not been amongst your people for a long time, and you called them 'ancestors'. Maybe the spirits your Shamana use and mine are not the same?"

As if on cue, the spirits floated away from Myst and back to the druid, who welcomed them with raised hands and a smile. "They are..." Parlina leaned a little closer, hands now braced on the branch for support as she glanced up at Myst, excitement in her peridot eyes, "Spirits of nature, but yours are different. If it helps, we can call them something else to avoid confusion?"

Not that that helped with the odd lack of spirits around the Mira. Shaking himself, he mentally reprimanded himself for losing concentration on the task at hand. Why did these outsiders have to be so confusing to the mind.

Holding back the aggression that sparked from the previous conversation about the spirits, Myst fell silent a moment. 'That could be better.' The reply was less than enthusiastic.

Parlina carried on as if she could not tell that Myst was uncomfortable with their discussion, timing and subject alike, curling up so that she could rest her chin atop raised knees, thinking hard. "Maybe we can call mine 'sparks'? That's what they look like up close anyway, for all the arguments they make at me that it's not my fault that I can't see them right."

Then Parlina took a peek down at the ground below, sighing. "I wouldn't want to encroach on the beliefs of your people after all. No one should ever challenge someone's right to believe in whatever they want." She stood on the branch, spirits gravitating back to her as she considered climbing back down the tree. "Do you want some company whilst you're on watch? I promise I won't be a bother."

Having a little moment to think on it, Myst decided that it was less that there was some issue with the whole thing, and merely that these 'sparks' were inhabitants of another part of the world. A natural occurance that she was exaggerating the extent of. That made much more sense to him than the other alternatives. They were only here now because they followed her here.

Having came to this conclusion, he half shrugged in response to her question. A gesture of lack of care for the decision. 'You can if you want.' It wasn't like she would distract him overly anyways. 'How do you fight?' It was an afterthought, a tacked on question to his non-commital answer.

"With them," Parlina answered as she sat back down, comfortably balanced on the branch she had chosen as her perch, a hand gesturing to one of the green sparks. "I have my blades too, but I fight best with my stave and sparks." There was a pause, and the little druid looked quite uncomfortable. A rare thing for the small woman; not that the young Mira would know that. "They have existed for thousands of years - seen so much. I have had a connection with them all my life, and made a pact to protect nature and uphold the values of the druids. Not only in fighting do they honour me with their assistance, but their experience is invaluable. I am young, but their wisdom makes me better than I might be without it."

Myst's expression was overlaid with the surprise at the notion that the sparks fought for her, with the worming tentacles of disdain and incredulousness at the notion. 'So, they fight for you.' Was the answer, the voice painting the same picture as both mind and face. This group, it seemed, wouldn't cease to surprise him, both in good and bad ways.

The reaction received was returned in equal measure from Parlina; the sparks disappeared as Myst spoke, and she frowned as she listened to their chattering voices. "They protect me and those I hold close the same way that I protect what they hold most dear. If that means stopping a knife crossing my throat, they'll do it. If it means that they tell me that a grove a sacred and I must not damage it, then I honour their wishes. I am a daught-"

A cry came from the soundless camp below them in the tree, cutting off Parlina from her borderline righteous speech. The little woman stood on the branch that had become her perch, casting a wary glance at Myst. "Lady Whisper," she said aloud, before shrugging and turning to Myst. "I should go and make sure she's okay."

Myst was trying to listen, he really was. But going from guides to things she used to battle and then to living creatures had confused him a little about the spirits she had hovering around her. And the tone of the current lecture hadn't seemed much different. 'Tend to her.' He answered, the reply more of acquiescence than an order.

Turning back to the outer ring of the camp, he tried to organise his thoughts back to the task at hand, rather than attempt to work out another convoluted mess that these outsiders seemed to love.

[Tiko]

Whisper woke to the feel of warm satin beneath her skin. Gone were her aches and bruises from the rough trail, gone was the hardened earth that she had come to rest upon. There was warmth to this place, and familiarity. Splashes of crimson dotted her senses and the walls themselves seemed alive, pulsing red with black veins. There was movement near at hand and when Whisper opened her eyes, they were met with the violet gaze of none other than Nyx Alurane.

Feelings flooded Whisper’s mind, intense and conflicted. Uncertainty was coupled with hope, fear with passion. There was a longing within her of the likes that no mortal should have to endure, a deep emptiness in her soul that Nyx’s death had rend deep.

A brush of metal began to entwine itself sinuously up Whisper’s leg, warm and pulsing with the demon's essence. Whisper’s words caught in her throat as fear filled her heart. She remembered how swiftly the warm caress of that chain could turn vicious, bringing her to her knees.

“Nyx… I tried,” she whispered softly, but she was silenced with the warm press of a finger to her lips.

“Shh,” the succubus purred. Shifting her hand, Nyx trailed the back of her knuckles across Whisper’s cheek in a gentle caress. “My dear Whisp… You had such promise… such promise,” she sighed.

It was then that blow was struck, a stinging backhand that snapped Whisper’s head to the side and left her vision a swirling daze. She felt it then in her hand, the weight of a knife. Looking down, Whisper stared unblinking at the weapon grasped within her blood stained fingers. It came back to her swiftly. She could feel of the warm liquid spattering across her face as Dallas’ hands reached in vain to stem the flow of blood from her throat, the look of surprise and betrayal in Sylvire’s eyes, when the elven sorceress too fell to her knees beneath the blade.

The room was rapidly fading from her perception, but Nyx’s voice filled her ear, a soft whisper laced with venom. “Kill them all, or I will claim what’s mine,” she hissed.

An agonized scream tore from Whisper’s lips as the chain snapped taut around her leg, digging into her flesh until she mercifully woke from her bedroll with a startled cry.

[Tiko]

(Post co-written by Tiko and Imehal)

By the time Parlina reached Whisper, the young woman had already picked her way past the prone forms of grumbling and disgruntled individuals that her startled cry had roused. She lingered now at the edges of the campsite, but her silvery locks of hair in the moonlight made her easy enough to pick out in the shadowy fridges of the trees.

By the grace of moonlight and a few choice warnings about standing on people's heads, Parlina made it around the outskirts of camp to where Whisper had retreated, halting a respectful distance. "Lady Whisper?" Parlina said quietly, careful not to rouse any of the sleeping party more than necessary. "Are you okay?"

“I...” Whisper turned about to face Parlina. She seemed wary and uncertain of the young druid's approach. Her eyes cast about nervously, but there was no one else at hand. “I'm fine. I didn't mean to wake people.”

Parlina smiled, shrugging lightly as she tried to understand the confused, mysterious woman whom Arrow protected with fierce resolve. "I was already awake distracting the guard, which I probably shouldn't be doing all things considered. But," The druid looked pointedly in Whisper's direction, "It did mean I was awake to come and talk to you. That didn't sound like a 'fine' cry as you woke up."

“It was just a dream,” Whisper explained. She hugged her arms about herself as if cold. “Just a dream.”

"In my experience, dreams are never just what they are," Parlina suggested softly, sadness turning her eyes downcast for the briefest of moments before they regained their consideration of Whisper. "Do you want to talk about it? It might make you feel better."

“I don't think so,” Whisper replied. “I mean, I don't know... it's complicated. I don't remember much about myself, from before Amarathia that is. I think my dreams are from before,” she tried to explain. “I don't remember much about them.” Her eyes shifted uneasily to the side though, betraying the false nature of her words.

"It's never simple," Parlina pointed out sagely, stepping to the side so that she was back in Whisper's vision. "But I guess you know that better than most."

The little druid looked over her shoulder to the place that she had awoken from - beside Rynhart. Everything had gone wrong lately, and so much lost. Where would she be if there had not been someone to pick her up and help her stay on track? "If you don't want to talk about it that's okay, but you're not going to get any rest if you keep it all to yourself. You have dreams for a reason."

“I'll be okay,” Whisper answered, keeping her eyes averted from Parlina as best she was able. “I should get back.” Moving to return to the camp, she hesitated a moment. “Do you know anything about demons?” she asked softly, her back to Parlina.

"No," Parlina replied honestly, her expression of confusion lost to the retreating Whisper. "I've never heard of demons. Why?"

“No reason,” Whisper replied before she moved away once more.

[Tiko]

(Post co-written by Zephyr, Tiko and Script)

The wind howled throughout the hollow streets of Tai'emroth, dust and dirt dancing in the air. The only sounds to be heard were that of the constantly gusting gales, and the shuffling footsteps of the ancient figure wandering the ghostly streets. Dark circles rimmed the seemingly-empty eyes of the wraith-like being, ravaged by time and cursed by immortality. The creature stopped his slow, undetermined pace to look about the empty city. He stood in the center of what used to be the most frequented market places in the area, now deserted and as dilapidated as he was. Tears began to well up in the creature's eyes. Many times had he wandered these now-dead streets. Many times had he wandered them while they still lived. Many more times had he wandered them after the last man had left. Many more times would he wander them. Such was his curse.

His mind was in emotional turmoil, sadness, anger, fear, and apathy each fighting for supremacy, with none prevailing or capitulating. After all these long, lonely years he had no clue what to feel anymore. Or how.

Overwhelming fear and dread surged through him as the noise and clamour of the streets returned. Outside the once-mighty city's walls swarmed thousands upon thousands of Voidlings, screeching and howling as they assaulted the crippling defenses. Inside the slaughter was unimaginable. The spiderkin killed relentlessly, breaking his home from within. Men, women, children, elders... all fell before them. Anivré watched in silent horror as the extinction event unfolded before him. He clenched his eyes shut and clamped his hands over his ears, crouched in corner unseen, but that didn't shut out the horrendous sounds of the numerous screams and deathcries that polluted the air.

As the walls containing the madness buckled and the swarm flooded the streets, the screams only intensified as the now-defenseless people were massacred left right and center. He opened his red-rimmed eyes and looked up to see her standing there, facing him, her monstrous figure nearly eight feet tall. All of her multiple eyes were fixed on him, the expression upon her face a stoic grimace. She levelled the red-tipped staff in her hand, glowing brightly as the world around him disappeared in a flash, soon to be replaced with the empty, desolated streets he had seen so many times before in this endlessly repeating cycle.

~*~

Niv sat up with a jolt, a hard sweat filming his pale body. The dream had been what that woman had shown him in the most, only tenfold more terrifying, and more real than he had ever cared for a dream to be. Was this to be the fate of the world? Was this the burden that rested upon his shoulders? There was no way he could allow that to happen. No amount of wealth would be worth what he had witnessed, mostly due to the fact that it wouldn't be worth anything if it actually occurred. His resolve was absolute. He would fulfill the oath of his forefathers. He would resurrect the Order of <name pending> and take his place as their leader.

The half-elf stood up and surveyed his sleeping comrades. There was no way he could tell anyone of his plan... of what he was about to do... They'd just paint him as a deserter and try to prevent him from taking his leave... Well, most would, anyway... He glanced over to Ruan, asleep on the other side of camp and sighed. Oh, the sacrifices he was about to make for the sake of humanity.

He rolled up his blanket and tucked it in to his bag of supplies as quietly as he could muster, and slung it over his shoulder. And with one final look around camp, he set out.

---

“He's gone alright. The trail heads east, and he's making an effort to hide it,” Ruan reported to Emma in a hushed tone. The early morning light had yet to chase the shadows away from the forest floor, and most of the group still slumbered. It wasn't until Ruan's shift on watch that he had discovered Niv's absense and roused Emma. "He's been gone at least four hours, maybe five."

Emma cursed under her breath, "Void take that cowardly bastard, the one time in his life where I actually care about his wellbeing and he decides to wander off into the void infested wilderness alone." She shook her head, "Light forbid that he ever does anything to please people. We don't have time to go after him." How in the world was she supposed to keep the half-elf alive and reach Nasazura before whatever terrible misfortune that blasted spirit woman had foretold happened?

The blood mage grimaced and muttered something under her breath about fey. "Do you have any idea where he's headed to? What's east? Certainly not home. As far as I'm aware it's a wall of mountains from here to the old dragonkin homeland."

Ruan shook his head. “I don't know. I can track him down in a day, maybe two. He's good, but I have a few tricks of my own. You can press on, and I can rejoin with you and the others at the settlement.”

"I'm not sending you out there alone," Emma replied, frowning, "Even I wouldn't want to go it alone out here, and I basically consider myself invincible. I don't know if there's anyone else to send, though. I can't send Talos, and I can't go myself. I doubt any of the Patronus will volunteer either."

A cough interrupted Emma then, as Dorian made his presence known, "I could go," he suggested, "Sorry, I was just coming over to check when you intended to set out. I couldn't help but overhear. I know this forest like the back of my hand, and now you have the Mira, you don't need me to guide you. It wouldn't be the first time I've gone solo or with only one or two others here."

Emma turned to appraise Dorian, nodding her head thoughtfully, "That's not a bad idea. The two of you have the skills for the job. Does that work for you, Ruan?"

Ruan cast Dorian a neutral glance before nodding his assent. “Alright. We should head out at once, he's got a good lead on us already." To Emma he added, "If we miss you at the settlement, we'll make our way back to Tai'emroth.”

Nodding, Emma turned to head back to the center of the camp, "If we do miss you, hopefully we'll have established a link with the settlement like we have with the Cordelian bastion. You should be able to get back unless things go very badly." she said, "And good luck, the both of you."

Dorian nodded, "I'll grab my pack," he said to Ruan, "Then lets go find your friend."

[Tiko]

(Post co-written by Imehal, Tiko, and Arrow)

Newly chattering spirits had been adeptly keeping Parlina quiet throughout the second day of travel. It was the druid's way to be always learning, but learning that there was more than one voice to the companions she had was something the woman was still adjusting to, particularly since the skies had been growing darker as time had worn on.

It was no surprise at all to learn that the heavens were going to open before the day was through, and so to distract herself from their warnings Parlina approached Rynhart by his side, hands carefully clasped behind her as she walked. "Sir Rynhart, can I ask you a question?"

Padding along, Rynhart had chosen the increasingly familiar guise of a tiger for the days travels. Parlina's question brought his head around to cast her a side long glance, as if waiting for her to elaborate upon her inquiries.

"What's a demon?" Parlina asked upon realising she had Rynhart's attention, with the naivety that could only come from complete inexperience with a topic.

Rynhart let out a light huffing noise before shifting his gaze further still, to the nearby form of Arrow. His expression said it all. You explain.

Arrow raised an eyebrow, glancing to Parlina. "A demon? I can't tell you much, I'm afraid. I only know as much as your average person. Demons are from another realm, or perhaps a variety of other realms. They're extraplanar creatures that are typically malicious, or entirely evil." he shook his head, "I have limited experience with them, but as far as I can tell they are a varied and unusual as creatures from our own realm. Some are intelligent and cunning, others are no more than beasts. Why do you ask?"

"Beings that are malicious by nature?" Parlina repeated, frowning thoughtfully at Arrow's own question, and decided that it was best to be honest in this instance. In all things Whisper had seemed to defer to him; trusted him maybe. Her voice lowered, eye colour changing to betray her discomfort. "Lady Whisper asked me if I knew about demons last night. I told her that I didn't, but have been wondering what they were ever since. The subject appeared to bother her, so I decided to ask someone else about them."

Parlina's explanation drew Rynhart's attention as well. Furry brows raised as he cast Arrow a questioning look.

At Parlina's words, Arrow's expression darkened, "Ah." was his only immediate response. The soldier looked down at the ground for several long moments as he ran the potential implications of that question through his head. "I ... will have to speak with her. I think it would be wise not to mention this to any other members of the group until then."

"Of course," Parlina agreed, glancing at Rynhart as she turned her gaze to the ground. It was clear that the Aelorans and Mira were not the only ones confused by their members. She slowed so that she kept pace with the purple tiger rather than the thoughtful Arrow.

The spirits chattered, and Parlina nodded her head sadly to whatever they had imparted. "I wish Taima were here."

Rynhart bumped up against Parlina's legs, disrupting her abruptly more subdued contemplations. There was a soft, and perhaps even playful look in his eyes as he butted up against her legs a second time with a low huff.

Aquamarine eyes glanced up at Rynhart, a smile reluctantly tugging at the ends of Parlina's mouth unbidden. Then a nod, and her little hands found a place clutching to Rynhart's fur in a gesture that was becoming familiar.

As Parlina secured her hold, Rynhart lunged ahead abruptly and took off at a low lope, distancing the pair from the main group - though not so far as to be out of earshot.

[Script]

(written by Script and NotAFlyingToy)

Beneath the heavy air of the post-rain forest, humidity and moisture heavy in the air, the darkening clouds threatening to open their gates once more, the group plodded along in the eerie silence of the blackened, twisted forest. Like a graveyard, the bones of the forest reached towards the angry skies, looking to be released from their mortal prison, to be soothed by the sky.

Goliath kept a barely controlled sneer towards the companions that were hot at his heels, reigning in the scowl that desperately wanted to creep across his face with constrained patience. Was this... cacophony the outsiders' idea of being quiet? Feet dragged, voices murmured, material rubbed together in various rasping sighs and hissing whispers. It was a wonder how every corrupted thing within a mile didn't come charging towards them.

When the last of the forest's bones was behind them, they came to a place where the rustling grew deafening by contrast. Goliath didn't hold back the withering scorn as he abruptly stopped, turning to face the group and slashing his palm through the air.

"Silence," he snapped, his ears twitching as they listened to the valley. There was no movement; no birds chirped, no rustling of grass, no wind in the ears. All that existed was the ground at their feet and the raging, boiling sky.

The graveyard was quiet.

His skin prickled, every sense he owned leaping alive and stiffening his spine. His head never stayed in the same place, jerking around his area constantly, eyes taking in every forseeable angle and nose working overdrive, scents wafting into his nostrils. Nothing seemed amiss; nothing but the haunting lack of ambient sounds.

"We have arrived," he breathed, his breath carrying his voice across the party, the only sound in the air. "The Valley of Reverie."

It would have been an odd day, Emma thought, to most other soldiers, to be travelling in the company of a band of warriors the leader of whom had wanted you dead not long before. To her, however, it was just another day. She was used to her allies hating her - be it for her blood magic or just her attitude. It had never caused her that much trouble, since her talents left her better suited for specialist work than a more permanent squad assignment where mutual loyalty and respect were far more crucial.

Could she have managed it? She liked to think so. There were plenty of soldiers who didn't have quite the level of disgust with blood magic that Talos did, and plenty more who would even somewhat appreciate her sense of humour. She found she related more to the front line fighters, by and large, than the mages whose abilities were in such high demand. That sort of thing tended to go to your head. Emma would know.

At this point, the blood mage wasn't sure whether the 'silence' command that Goliath had given still held. The announcement seemed to invite comment - a dry remark about the state of mind of whoever had named this place after a pleasant daydream was on the tip of her tongue - but the quiet that hung in the air, bearing oppressively down through the trees, gave her pause for thought at what attention a conversation might attract. Though she was no Ruan or Ciela, the total absence of any wildlife - even down to pestersome insects - had not escaped her notice.

Behind her she could see the rest of the small group taking in the eerie sight before them. Talos looked for all the world like he'd rather be playing dice with a dozen blood mages than walk another step into this delightful holiday retreat, and Emma didn't blame him. Most blood mages would be lousy at cards - their poker faces generally consisting of a mass of tentacles sprouting from them and devouring their hand. Arrow was harder to read, but that had always been true of the young man. At first it had simply been because she didn't know him, or so she thought, but since then it had become apparent he was simply very well composed. He kept his emotions firmly off of his sleeve - it was a sure tell of an experienced soldier, or at least one who had seen as much as one. Still, by the way his hand hovered close to the artefact sword at his hip, she could tell he was as tense as the rest of them.

[Tiko]

(Post co-written by Arrow and Tiko)

The fire flickered at the middle of the travelling party's camp, each weary after the long day's travel. Shadows danced amongst the trees as the flames moved, thick undergrowth uncharacteristically silent and devoid of the rustling of small animals. It was just after the group had eaten that Arrow sought out Whisper, picking the moment that the rest were engaged in their own muted conversations to approach her, "Whisper - can we talk somewhere, privately?" he said quietly, gesturing towards the edge of the camp.

Whisper cast her gaze about the campsite before nodding briefly. A few eyes glanced their way as they passed, but none seemed to pay their departure much mind.

When they'd reached a suitable distance where their hushed voices would not carry to other listeners, Arrow halted and turned to face the small girl. "Parlina told me what you asked her the other night. Your question about demons. Why did you want to know?"

Whisper's discomfort was quickly apparent as she hugged her arms about herself. “It's nothing,” she offered hesitantly.

Arrow shook his head, "It isn't nothing, Whisper. There was ... a demon involved in your past. Whatever has brought thoughts of demons to your mind, I need to know about it."

“It was just a dream I had,” she confessed, keeping her eyes averted from Arrow.

Frowning slightly, Arrow continue to press for details. "What was in the dream? This is important, Whisper. I'm not about to throw you out for a dream, but it's important that you're honest with me - and that you tell me the whole truth. Don't leave anything out for fear that it will anger me."

“I... don't remember much. It's all muddled,” Whisper replied. “I remember violet eyes,” she offered finally. “I've had others too, of people, names and faces I don't remember. I think they're from... before. But they're just dreams.”

Violet eyes. A shiver went down Arrow's spine at that. He remembered violet eyes all too well. "Are you sure that's all? Why did that prompt the question on demons?" he asked.

“I just...” Whisper tried to pick her words carefully. She was walking on tenuous ground. “I wanted to know if they can come back, after they're killed. I was just unnerved, and tired.”

Arrow's eyes widened, "Has anything given you a reason to think they could? If anything has, you need to tell me." Nyx was dead, he was sure of that. But if she could come back ... he didn't want to consider that possibility.

Whisper kept her eyes averting, offering no response to Arrow's inquiry.

"Whisper, please. You have to trust me. I can't help you if you won't tell me what you've seen. And that's what I want to do - to help you. I'm not trying to condemn you or find a reason to be rid of you, I want to help." The soldier found himself wishing that Sylvire was here. She would know what to do in this sort of situation, but he knew nothing of the significance of dreams or visions.

“There was a voice, a whisper really,” Whisper managed finally. “She said she would come to claim what's hers.”

Arrow's heart felt like it was sinking to the pit of his stomach. It could just have been a dream, he reminded himself. But were these things ever so simple? "You say ... 'she'. What memories are surfacing, Whisper? Is it any more than these fragments? Do you know who 'she' is?"

“Nyx,” she stated softly. The name came unbidden to her. No one had spoken it in her presence, not since before Amarathia, and yet it came to her lips now. “The others will wonder where we are,” she added suddenly before moving to step past him, back towards the camp.

And there it was. It wasn't as though he hadn't already known it, but that Whisper confirmed it... that meant that her memories were returning. With Nyx dead, if she was still dead, then perhaps she would not fall as she had before. "Whisper-" he began as she made to leave, "If you have any more visions, or dreams of anything like this, then tell me. Promise me that. Let us hope that is all they are, rather than anything more real."

Whisper's footsteps hesitated, and his request was met with the faintest of nods. One more question lingered upon her mind though, and she gave Arrow a wary glance. “And if they're not?” she asked.

Arrow sighed, looking down. "If not ... then ... I don't know, Whisper. I don't know. If not then gods help us all."

[Tiko]

(Post co-written by NotAFlyingToy, Wraith, Alasund De'astio, and Tiko)

Even in sleep, the outsiders remained far too noisy - the area of the small camp filling with sounds of soft breathing and heavy sleep. His fingers twitched as he watched them, the hunter in him recognizing the vulnerable state they were in, tugging at him to wrap his meaty, fur-lined hands around each of their throats and finish the job...

But, there were more economic ways of finishing a foe. He sought not to kill them, but be rid of them.

Fiera had forced his hand when he had agreed to travel with this band of worthless outsiders. While he had agreed to follow them and guard them against dangers, he had never claimed to want to protect them from the evils of the silent, still valley. To his sharp mind, the group had been a dark blight on the lands, forcing his small band of warriors - the only thing that mattered to him - into relocation, hiding, and wound-licking. They had shown up for a mere day, and resulted in deaths, fear, trauma. He could not allow such a deed to go unpunished.

And so, with the sleeping bodies around him, he turned to Saryth, Leonis, and his son. "Rise," he said, simply. "We leave."

Myst, caught by surprise by the order, twisted his head to look at his father, moving to speak for a moment before pulling himself back. There was no need to remind the Shief of the conflict that this action would put them at with the Shamana, he likely already knew...

The order, in this case, was something of a bad taste in his mouth. But he nodded in affirmative, moving to gather and leave, the words and slight dissension dead. He was a Mira Warrior. He had proved that. He wouldn't let small rebellion born from tiredness let him undo that.

Saryth if he had been anything but as skilled as he was, might have been adding to the sounds of the breathing of the foreigners with the steady strokes of cloth over the deadly curve of his dagger. There were still bloodstains on it, though not from any engagement that his present company had borne witness to. If the party had had a relatively untroubled journey to this point, it was in part for the path that had been cleared ahead of them by the scout.

Goliath's order was heard, and the Mira's dark ear flickered briefly for that sound, and the comprehension that came with it. The sentinel's dark eyes shifted toward the shief, and there would be about the male's furred expression, an almost unreadable stillness before his skull dipped once on acknowlegement. He was a warrior, first, and as much as he comprehended the desires of the shamana, he would honor the directive of his shief. There were other ways to see to it that the orders that had been given by Fiera were carried out.

Silent as a ghost in the night, the warrior found his feet, scarcely a look spared for the slumbering outsiders. He would leave, as directed, but unless he were given a suplemental order at some future point, there was no telling but that the scout might find the lost party again.

"We might have spared ourselves the journey.." The low rumbled observation was absent of any true resentment or dissatisfaction. He was never loath to spend time in the woods. But it would serve as his symbolic protest of wasted hours spent on a task it seemed they would not complete.

As Myst and Saryth fell in line, Leonis' gaze shifted from one to the other before settling upon Goliath with a scowl. Disapproval was etched all over the greying lines of the elder's face.

“You mean to leave them here?” Leonis asked. His eyes narrowed sharply then. “You mean to defy the words of the Shamana.” There was no question anymore, only a heavy note of reproach within the grizzled old veteran's words.

Goliath's gaze levelled upon the older Mira, sliding from him to the scout at his shoulder and his son, standing away from the group. He settled again on Leonis, folding powerful arms over his chest, his teeth baring.

"Last I was informed, elder, it was I that decided the course of action for the tribe, and not the Shamana. Yours is to follow my orders, not to call into question the intent behind them." The Shief took two large steps, standing taller than the wiser of the Mira, radiating youth and energy in comparison to the elder opposite him.

"We leave the outsiders to their fate. If they are to cross safely, they will do so." Goliath turned his back on the elder of the tribe, moving to lead the march away from the slumbering party members.

“No.”

Leonis' resolve had hardened. Such an impudent refusal was near inconceivable in the presence of the Shief, let alone the low rumbling growl in which Leonis bit out the word at Goliath's back. It left little question of what was to follow. Hefting his great axe from its place on his back, Leonis buried the head of it deep into the earth at his feet. Leaving the weapon where it struck, he instead pulled a pair of handaxes free of the leather baldrics at his belt.

“I claim the Right of Power,” Leonis growled lowly, his stance already widening. Goliath had nearly a head of height over him, but what Leonis lacked in height he made up for in heft. Burly and broad of shoulder, Leonis had a good fifty pounds over the taller warrior. Battle scarred and grizzled, the elder had seen many a battle. Even aged as he was, a challenge from Leonis was not to be taken lightly.

Having been awaiting leaving at the side, Myst only turned around when Leonis refused to budge. And was left open mouthed and gaping at what took place next. He'd only heard about the Right of Power Let alone by the calm and level headed elder. Unable to properly absorb what was taking place, he could only stare in disbelief.

Saryth could feel the judgement in the eyes of the elder, but had been content to continue his preparations to move out. His weapon had been sliding home into its sheath when those first signs of defiance came. If he was surprised, it was not shown by any outward expession or movement; the sentinel only turned, silent and watchful to take in the exchage between the two males. He had known immidiately as the order was questioned, that it would come to this. Leonis was not one to speak his mind without being willing to stand behind his course.

A dark eyed look flicked over shoulders and past the two who faced off, and the low rumble of his voice would intrude in the tense silence of that moment. "If it is your intent that the outsiders remain ignorant of our plans, this may not be the time, or place." A fight near the sleeping beds of the ones who had been entrusted to their care, whatever the outcome, would not bode well for the relations between the groups. The travellers would know that they had almost been left to their own devices.

It remained on the tip of his tongue, that suggestion that these.. others, were not worth it, not worth the disruption of the order, but he had said enough. A challenge had been made, and unless it was answered or revoked, there was little to be done for the outcome.

"Be silent, Saryth," Goliath snapped, his thunderous gaze not moving from the eldest of the four assembled, "I care not a whit for what the outsiders do and do not know of our plans. If I am to be challenged, it will be solved immediately."

Goliath took the vines strapped around his torso, holding a skin of water, some dried meat, and tossed them aside. His hands seized the large axe that was kept at his back, pulling it free and twirling it once, experimentally.

"You had a good life, Leonis," Goliath said, twirling the axe again, expertly. "A long life. A pity you wish to leave on such a note."

The pair began to circle with all the primal ferocity and liquid fluidity of their ancient feline ancestors. With eyes locked upon one another, neither wavered in their resolve. Leonis' choice of weapons seemed less than sufficient next to the heft of Goliath's, but the elder warrior gripped them tightly, poised for combat. As their aggression built in fervor, Leonis' visage curled into a low snarl.

“I should have done this long ago," Leonis growled lowly. "I thank the ancestors that your father isn't alive to see you now.”

Instead of answering, Goliath stepped forth, the axe arcing in a large, blindingly fast swing, the gleaming head soaring straight for the older Mira's flank. Twisting to the side, Leonis brought one of his axes down against Goliath's weapon, guiding it safely into the earth while he swung his off hand axe in a vicious arc towards Goliath's exposed chest. The larger warrior darted backwards, the offhand axe skimming his chest as he twirled his own weapon, bringing it low and towards Leonis' side. Far quicker than his age would allude to, Leonis dove to the side in a swift evasive tumble that left Goliath's axe cleaving air. Coming back to his feet in a guarded crouch, Leonis readied his weapons and turned to face off once more.

"Your lack of speed barely shows, elder," Goliath said, adjusting the grip on his axe. "I'm almost impressed."

“There's still bite in me yet, cub,” Leonis growled back.

"Bite's a strong word. Nibble, maybe," Goliath grunted back, and launched himself at the elder.

His attack was a savage overhand swing, aiming to cleave Leonis in two. Once again the wizened elder evaded Goliath's blow, but this time Leonis was afforded little reprieve as the axe cleaved past. Moving swiftly, Goliath twisted the weapon in his grip, allowing the momentum to curve the blade, swinging horizontally at his foe, pressing the advantage. Again Leonis was pushed back. Dropping low, Leonis ducked the axe which threatened to decapitate him. As the axe sank deep into the bark of a gnarled tree, Leonis snarled and bull-rushed the taller warrior. With the sharp crack of splintering wood, the pair slammed into a tree at Goliath's back.

With a flip of his wrist, Goliath grabbed the hunting knife at his belt, thrusting it upwards in a reverse grip, scoring a deep gash across the elder's ribs before he could disengage. With a deep growl, Leonis brought one of his axes across Goliath's chest. Though a viciously placed strike, the leather strap of Goliath's axe holster took the brunt of the blow. A second strike came from Leonis' opposing hand, but the younger Mira snapped his fist up, knocking the axe from the elder's grasp, and countering by slamming the handle of the knife into Leonis' skull, right between his eyes. Utilizing the older warrior's dazedness, Goliath spun around the trunk, gripping the hilt of his axe and wrenching it free with one muscular leg on the tree as leverage. Re-armed, he squared off with his opponent yet again,

"Tired, old one? I can slow, if you wish."

Leonis' response came in the form of a grunt, nostrils flaring as the pair of warrior's breathed heavily. “There was a time when Mira honor used to mean something,” he growled lowly.

"Did it mean defying a shief, old one? If so, that's the type of meaning that would point to no old Mira being here."

“It is my right,” Leonis growled. “Or would you forsake that as well?” Stancing off, Leonis readied himself. “If they are to be our enemies, then we should face them in battle as warriors, not slink away in the night like common thieves.” This time it was Leonis who took the initiative. Discarding his handaxe to the side, the elder dove for his greataxe.

Goliath followed, his axe skimming the ground as he picked up momentum, cleaving for the elder Mira's legs as he finished his roll, greataxe in hand. Leaping clear of the swing, Leonis took to the trees in a feat evidencing the raw strength of the Mira. Catching an overhanging tree branch in his firm grip and bracing himself against the trunk with powerful legs, he held his great axe aloft with only a single hand. With Goliath's momentum carrying his axe blow low to the ground, Leonis coiled his muscles and leaped at Goliath's exposed chest with a snarl, his great axe shifted to an overhead two-handed blow mid launch.

It was over in the blink of an eye.

With the great axe coming up just in time, Goliath sunk the weapon deep into the elder Mira's right pectoral muscle, rending fur and flesh as the strike hit home. Driving forward with the force of the blow Leonis jerked in midair, forcing him to land in front of Goliath, axe still in the sheif's hands, the younger Mira pressing down on it, causing pain.

"Get up," Goliath sneered through gritted teeth, leaning all his weight into the strike, making sure the elder could not. "Up, old one. Are you giving in so easily?"

Leonis grunted in pain, his own weapon abandoned as he gripped at the axe blade pressing down upon him. It was a reflexive, but futile effort to relieve the crushing weight from his chest. There was defiance in the old Mira's eyes though. The fight was over, but Goliath wouldn't have the satisfaction of him whimpering like a wounded cub.

Goliath gave a deep chuckle, putting a foot on the old Mira's chest, leaning down so that just the two of them could have a... private moment.

"You are banished, Leonis," he snarled, "and should you find yourself among Mira lands again, we will test the Right of Blood. Is this understood?"

"I only pray to the ancestors that you come to your senses," Leonis growled through clenched teeth.

"Save your prayers for those who seek them," Goliath said, wrenching the axe one more time before snatching it from the old one's chest. Still, despite his facade of indifference to Leonis' words, he glared at Myst and Saryth.

"Would either of you care to invoke the right as well?" He barked.

The battle was over far too fast, in Myst's mind. He hadn't even got his head around understanding what just happened and then, then Leonis was down. It was the glare from his father, however, that shook him the most. He had no answer, at first. No answer, and no reaction just beyond stone stillness.

Would Leonis really fight the Shief because of power? If not, then Goliath really was mocking the code of Mira. Wrenching his mind from the train of thoughts, he shook his head, and snapped his jaw shut with a click. The pup wanting to impress his father was still a little too large. Instead, he looked away from the battlesite, and checked the forms of the outsiders, to see if they had awakened.

Saryth had made no further attempt to hinder or intervene in the unfolding of that challenge. It was an almost clinical observation of the fight that occured, and one void of emotion despite that the outcome could have radical implications for all that he knew. The sentinel had watched Goliath grow into his place, and had witnessed him to this point lead his people with a measure found faultless. It was for this reason, and this reason alone now, that the Mira shieftain would have only a turn of the male's dark furred head, and the idle flick of a single ear in the shief's direction.

" If I intended a challenge Goliath, I should not have let the old one beat me to the rise." There was the ghost of Mira arrogance there, for the implied insult that he would base his actions upon the determined fate of another. Leonis was not looked toward, despite the echo of the older one's hope in some far reach of Saryth's mind. He had chosen hs course, and would live with the outcome as was their way. And so it would appear, had Saryth. The travellers had been nothing but trouble for their people since they had arrived, anyway, and the loss of Leonis was one more crime to pile upon their heads.

"If we are leaving, then let us leave.." His voice rumbled low as his dark gaze swept he confines of the camp. " I grow weary of their stench." It was one, or the other, and the sentinel was beyond choosing the strangers over the clan. Even so, he was best served with distance between himself and temptation.

As the trio turned to depart, Leonis was already dragging himself back to his feet. One hand clutched to the bloody rend in his torso, while the other was braced against the ground as he found purchase on one knee. “Myst,” he called out, his voice a raspy growl.

Walking just behind the other two, Myst half turned at the call of his own name, his eyes darting back. The wrench between keeping walking away from the now exile and following his father away was shown on his face as he paused, letting the other two gain a bit of distance. 'What' he barked, sharper than he normally would've towards the elder.

“Remember the old ways,” Leonis growled. “The future of the Mira is in your hands now.”

Myst stared at the elder for a few moments more, silent in reply to the words, before turning and hurrying to catch up to Saryth and the shief. The words still echoed, an odd contrast to his normal dedication...

[Tiko]

(Post co-written by Script, Tiko, Arrow, and Imehal)

Sleep had come easily that night to the group of travelers. The hard ground and cold air seemed more akin to a luxurious bed, wrapped cosily in soft blankets. It was put down to fatigue - anything felt comfortable after a long day of travel - or merely ignored, unnoticed. As the group slipped into unconsciousness, something in the air of the valley moved in.

Emma's eyes blinked open with a start, and she sat up abruptly, a feeling of falling leaving her chest from a dream. Or at least, that's what she thought had happened. As her eyes focused and her surroundings became apparent, it became clear that something was far more amiss. Where the night had previously been dark, there was now an eerie light about the place they camped. The thin mist that had filled the valley was now thick and clung to the ground, obscuring it to the point where it almost seemed they were walking on a cloud. The blood mage turned to see that her companions were also waking, noting that they - and indeed, she herself, when she looked down - seemed drained of colour, both skin and clothes faded towards the silver-blue tint of the light. The Mira were nowhere to be seen.

"What in the name of the Light..." Emma grabbed her staff and rose to her feet, noting that her bedroll was absent, "What's happened here?"

"An illusion perhaps?" Rynhart asked, seemingly just as bleary as the rest of the small group. Noting the absense of his own bedroll, and more importantly his sword, Rynhart frowned and joined Emma in rising to his feet.

Grimacing as he swiftly had his sword and shield in his hands, Arrow gave Rynhart a glance, "A pity that merely suspecting such would not reveal it to us." he murmured, "Unless any of us have experience in that field that goes beyond being subjected to them."

Emma sighed, "For what it's worth, an illusion quite so thorough as this would require a notable amount of energy. We'd have to have had the misfortune to run into a very powerful illusionist, which isn't entirely impossible, but the majority of the void creatures have no or very limited mastery over the magic of our realm."

"Neither do the Mira," Parlina said quietly, stave in hand as she stood beside Rynhart, glancing around their misty surroundings with a frown of confusion.

“Speaking of. Has anyone but me noticed the pointed lack of our new furry companions?” Brent interjected gruffly.

Parlina smiled across Brent, a rare moment of satisfaction crossing her young features. "They are immune to all magic as a result, so if we are in a magical illusion it's no great surprise that they aren't here with us. Still that doesn't answer the question of what is going on. Give me a few moments." The druid's focus on the warrior was replaced by a distant expression, clearly lost in thought.

Arrow glanced around, nodding, "I imagine that there is some significance to the absence of the Mira. Were this an illusion, surely they would be here still but unaffected, able to tell us what was really happening? Either they are being hidden from us so thoroughly that they cannot communicate, or they are absented for another reason. They took the first watch, if I remember correctly. Perhaps the same thing that is now confounding us drew them away?"

"They're not here because, well, technically we're not." Parlina had come out of her trance midway through Arrow's musings, but had waited patiently for him to stop before speaking. "It's not real, Sir Arrow, so the spirits tell me, but they're unsure whether we're actually awake or whether that is an illusion too. They can't really tell the difference between whether I'm awake or asleep at the best of times - just moments when they can't talk to me."

"That would make sense," Emma murmured. "They were awake, so if we're asleep, they wouldn't be here... but then, if we're asleep, that begs the question of how we're communicating."

“Indeed. What was that name you used?" Rynhart asked thoughtfully. "The Valley of Reverie? Perhaps there was more to the name than meets the eye."

"It's an illusion," Parlina said bluntly, "If we're asleep and trapped in magic, we should be capable of anything we could do awake if that's what the caster of the illusion wants."

“I don't know, maybe Emma's got a point,” Brent remarked in a rare moment of deep thought. “Void, for that matter how do we know all of us are even real?”

Arrow frowned, "If this is all an illusion, it's affecting each of our minds individually. So Brent's right - this would be just what one person is experiencing. Either it's their own projection of all their companions, or the illusionist is drawing on ... gah, I'm confusing myself."

“Didn't you do it once to me?” Whisper remarked rather abruptly, and unexpectedly. She had her arms hugged to herself as if cold, and her eyes were wary. “I mean, interact in a world of illusion that is. Could it be similar?”

"It can't be just one of us," Parlina insisted, hands spread as she regarded Whisper with the most intense expression of bewilderment. "Is that true, because that sets a precedent we can work with! Why was that done?"

"Let's not go into the why here," Arrow said, giving Parlina a warning glance, "But now that it is mentioned, I can see the similarity. That would explain our communication - rather than this illusion being within our own minds, as such, if it is working in a similar way to what happened before, our minds have been drawn into another. Whether that is someone's mind, or something less distinct... I have no idea. I know very little of the 'how' of the process myself."

Shana grimaced, "So you're saying we're coincidentally going through a dangerous experience that this girl has been through before? This girl who happens to be a psychic?" The mercenary shook her head, "Perhaps we should take that into account when we're trying to identify what's happening."

"Oh don't start that again, Shana," Emma snapped exasperatedly, "We don't have time to be stirring up trouble amongst ourselves. I preferred it when you were being quiet."

"Illusion magic isn't my strong point," Parlina admitted with a shrug, seemingly ignoring the entire interlude between Emma and Shana, "But the spirits can help me figure out the environment around us. If we were pulled into this without knowing that until now... That suggests a very powerful magic and it must have a source within the illusion as well to keep it balanced. I think?"

"Well," Emma said, "We aren't going to achieve anything just standing here. Unless anyone has any bright ideas about how to get out of this, then I say we start walking and see what happens. Perhaps there's a limit to this illusion that'll make it more obvious."

"I have an idea, actually," Talos interjected, "If this is an illusion, pure and simple, if I open a portal to elsewhere and step through I will likely be out of the influence of the caster. Then I will be able to look back through the portal and see the reality of our surroundings."

Emma nodded slowly, "That's actually not a half bad idea, Talos. Thinking outside the box, I like it. Make it so."

With a disguised roll of the eyes at Emma's absent-minded patronisation, Talos turned towards an empty area of the ... well, where their camp had been ... and began to channel. The air distorted where he was focusing his powers and .. nothing happened. There was a long pause. "That doesn't usually happen." he said finally.

"As Lady Emma said, we're not going to achieve much by standing here and wishing for it," Parlina agreed as she looked about, before settling on what she thought was north-east and walking in that direction determinedly.

The druid barely got five paces before a woman flickered into existence about ten feet from the disorientated group. She was dressed in a simple two layed robe combination of green and cream, and a rare smile graced her thin lips as her bowed head was raised to regard them all.

"Finally." Natalie sounded just slightly annoyed, confusion mingled with relief. "I was beginning to think that I would never find you."

Eyes widening, Emma had her staff half-lifted before she recognised Natalie. "In the name of ..." she muttered under her breath, "Is this your doing, sorceress?"

"Mine, and the artefact," Natalie explained with a frown as she scanned the group before her, noting absences, smile fading even as her brown eyes fell upon those she had been most concerned about in the group. "I have been trying to locate you for hours, but you have proven elusive. Then when I did, it turned out that you are not where you are supposed to be. It would be interesting, if it were not so infuriating."

Gathering his thoughts finally, Arrow stepped forwards "Natalie - it is good to see you! Are the others ..." he trailed off, leaving the question hanging unspoken.

"And you my friend," Natalie greeted in turn, "And your sister lives, never fear. She is far too stubborn to let something like adversity hold her back. As does Lady Sylvire, Elante, Ciela, and Raedan."

The soldier smiled - broadly, for once, as opposed to the half smile that had been the best he could manage for a while now. "Under other circumstances I would hug you, but as it is, then let me just say how glad I am you found us to bring such news."

"Hate to interrupt," Emma interrupted without much of the regret she expressed evident, "But as good as it is to hear of the survival of many of you, it remains to be established just what's going on here. You said that this was your doing. Then .. what exactly is it you have done? A little hint would be just great."

Natalie paused, smiling but evidently grateful as she swept her gaze from Arrow to Emma, eyebrows raised. "Oh. It appears I have misunderstood, Emma. I did not cause this," She lifted her arms to the world around them, "But I can tell you it is not natural. I first found your sleeping bodies, and it took time to figure out why you were not where I thought you were, and yet...

"This is doing us no favours," Natalie continued after the brief lapse, sighing. "As far as I can tell, the representations I see before me are not in the same physical plane as your bodies. It seems to be the work of magic."

“So you're saying, that while we're here, our bodies are laying somewhere else, helpless?” Brent interupted. “Does this concern anyone else?”

"Well, yes, I don't suppose it's exactly ideal," Emma replied, grimacing, "The Mira, though - they aren't here. And our magic didn't work on them. They must have resisted this, too. Now, as to whether or not that's a good thing... I don't want to think about too much."

"The Mira?" Natalie asked, before waving a hand after letting curiosity get the better of her. "I realise that this does not help the situation you are all in, but there was no one with you when I found your camp."

"Oh bloody ... burn those bastarding, lying, void-mongering kittens." Emma cursed, "I hope they choke on a hairball. Fantastic! So we're unconscious, alone, in the middle of cursed valley full of god-only-knows-what, and our escorts have buggered off. They knew this would happen, they bloody knew! Void take them for it and their spirit woman for telling me to go this way."

Talos coughed, "Ah, Emma ... perhaps we should focus on what we're going to do, rather than ranting at the air?"

"Ohh, but the latter is so much more satisfying," the blood mage grumbled.

"I believe that Talos has the right idea," Natalie agreed, glancing around their peculiar surroundings for the second time with more than cursory interest. "How long have you been in here?"

"It can't have been more than five or ten minutes," Arrow said, "From our perspective, anyway. Hopefully time isn't moving any faster in reality."

"I will not keep you much longer then, but I have a few questions of my own, if I may." Natalie looked beyond Emma to Arrow, eyes unnaturally calm as she anticipated the bad news that was about to come. "You are fewer than when we were separated, both Aeloran and Patronus. Narruk, Nihm, Kirae, and two of your number, Emma?"

Arrow nodded sadly, "Narruk fell on the plains. Kirae suffered wounds there and died before we could treat them." he said softly, remembering those that he had failed, even if his sister and the others were alive.

Picking up where Arrow had left off, Emma grimaced, "We lost Nihm, Lianna and Erina. And by your description of who was with you, Kratos too. Nihm fell to a corrupted forest guardian, or whatever it was. The other two were lost during our time with the Mira before we made peace."

"I am sorry for your losses as I am for our own," Natalie offered sympathetically, sincere in her intent as she actually tried to take a step forward to Arrow before remembering the fact that she was an illusion, and could give no comfort. The reminder had an ill effect on her mood, making her next words quiet and strained. "But one more thing perplexes me. Where is Whisper?"

Arrow looked up in surprise, glancing around, "She was here a second ago ... Whisper?"

Emma groaned, "Just something to add to our list of problems - and don't bother saying anything Shana. Just, don't speak. Please."

The black-haired mercenary shot Emma a glare. "No idea what you're talking about." she muttered.

There was a moment where a glare in Shana's direction from Natalie might have been glimpsed, but it was so brief that it could have been passed off as a mere trick of the eyes. "I will find her. Her body was with yours, so that means she must be in here somewhere. You must focus on breaking whatever binds you all here."

"Right. Breaking bindings," Emma agreed, "Can't be too hard. Hard enough to keep bindings unbroken, I should know. Just have to find the source and kick it about a bit." She paused, "Well, something like that, anyway."

"Now that we know what is going on, we should be able to figure it out together." Parlina had finally spoken up, voice fragile but strong. "May the spirits guide you to Lady Whisper, Lady Natalie, and thank you for finding us."

"Give the others my regards," Arrow said with a dry smile, "Tell them we shouldn't be long now. We're practically halfway there, after all."

"It will be nice to have your sister do something but blame us all for leaving you to die, certainly," Natalie retorted with an equally dry expression. "I shall track your progress from Tai'emroth, and check upon you should I suspect difficulties. Be careful, and I will see you all soon." Then the image, so real but untouchable, of Natalie faded away from their sight, leaving them to the dilemma of how to escape from the dream-world they were in.

"Difficulties, she says," Emma rolled her eyes, "Difficulties!" The blood mage left a pause, before cracking a smile and lifting her staff, "Doesn't she know who she's talking to? Inconveniences, at worst! Let's get a move on, I'm already bored of this place's atmosphere. Only so much mist you can put up with for this long."

[Tiko]

(Post co-written by Script, Tiko and Imehal)

The walk through the valley had seemed monotonous at first. The scenery hardly seemed to change, for their vision was so impaired that each new ten-foot wide space that wasn't concealed by the mist could just have easily been the last. The trees gave no indication as to letting up for so long that Emma began to think that they were going around in circles. However, finally, it seemed that they were starting to make their way into a less overgrown part of the valley.

Or at least a less overgrown part of this dream version of the valley. Whether it reflected reality or not was anyone's guess. Even as the trees started to clear, it seemed that so too did the mist - if only a small amount. It pulled back, revealing more of the area around them, staying closer to the ground until it was like they were walking on a cloud. "Stay on your guard," Emma announced, "If there's anything I've learned, it's that change in a place like this is bad."

It seemed as though Emma's caution was well placed, for as they moved forwards it quickly became apparent that they weren't alone in this pass. Shapes began to form around them, indistinct at first, but slowly gathering themselves until they could be made out as soldiers - mounted and carrying weapons at the ready. Though the group's immediate reaction was to ready for a fight, the figures seemed not even to acknowledge them. They were ghostly in their form, translucent and incorporeal. They rode by, and even through the travellers, unheeding of their presence.

"This can't be good," Talos muttered as they drew closer together.

With the soldiers passing by on all sides, evidently a column of an army of some sort, the rest of the area seemed to morph itself. Slightly indistinct hills rose upwards and trees grew from nowhere, their species unfamiliar. The mist peeled back further, revealing that they were travelling down a road through a forest that was distinctively different to the last they had been in.

"It appears we have been joined by an army," Emma muttered, "Just marvelous. Try not to draw attention to yourselves. Keep moving. It's likely nothing more than a vision, but I'd rather we played it safe."

"Suppose it has something to do with this damn valley?" Brent asked gruffly, just as edgy as the rest of the group. "From before the fall?"

"I don't recall any human armies ever having cause to pass this deep in the forest," Talos replied, "But my knowledge of the history of this region is far from complete. We know very little, if I'm honest."

After a time, the soldiers around them began to slow. They found themselves nearing the front ranks of the army, past which the forest ended and a wide open field stretched. Down a slope, and across a distance of flowers and long grass, the soldiers' destination was clear. A battle was raging below, two armies clashing upon the blooming fields. The sound of swords and shields clashing together was punctuated by gunfire and even the booming of cannons - an entirely unfamiliar symphony to many of the group.

The two armies were indistinct from this distance, but it was clear that one side had the upper hand. They significantly outnumbered their opponents, and were pushing them back steadily - but the fact that the smaller army was not retreating suggested that they knew something their enemies didn't. The group halted at the top of the slope as Emma hesitated.
"I know where we are..." Arrow's voice cut through the momentary silence, tinged with discomfort, "This is-"

He was cut off at that moment by an echoing, ghostly voice to their right. One of the riders had moved forwards, bringing their horse around to ride in front of the others. "Any word on the others?"

A second voice, this one a woman's, followed. "Nothing. None of the signals have gone out. Either they're a long way behind schedule, or something worse."

As the two figures spoke, their appearances became more distinct. The woman's blurry head cleared, revealing a head of red hair - she looked oddly familiar. The man's appearance also became clearer, and it was that which was most surprising. Though slightly younger, it was clear that the ghostly figure was none other than Arrow - and the woman was his sister.
"Sir Arrow?" Parlina posed, finally tearing her eyes away from the indistinct figures around them at the unexpected development.

Arrow gave Parlina an uneasy glance, but didn't speak. Instead, the apparition spoke again. "The soldiers down there are fighting on the assumption that reinforcements are coming! They won't retreat -- they'll be massacred!"
The ghostly Aliana sighed, "If the other columns aren't here, we have to wait for them. If they never come..." she shook her head, "It matters not. Don't do anything stupid, brother."

"You want me to leave hundreds of soldiers to die?" the younger knight exclaimed in frustrated disbelief, "If we flank the enemy, we give them a chance to disengage."

"Do you have any idea how many of us might die in a move like that? Yes, if we catch them unawares, and things work out perfectly, you might save many more lives -- but the likely outcome is just more death!"

"I can't just stand and watch, Aliana!" the ghostly Arrow snapped - before abruptly the scene shifted, the soldiers and scenery dissolving away to leave the group stood on a flat plain. Before anyone had a chance to speak, however, the mist was circling again, gathering and forming into shapes.

When it was finished this time, the group were greeted by a long line of musket-barrels levelled directly at their faces. The soldiers fired in unison with an almighty crack, and it would be a strong soul that didn't flinch away in surprise and shock as the bullets sailed harmlessly right through them.

Turning to follow the path of the bullets, the group saw their targets - the mounted knights from earlier were powering down the slope that they had just moments before been stood at the top of, their front ranks shredded by the gunfire. Their horses' hooves thundered as they neared the line of gunmen that had hastily formed on the flank of the army below. Just as their front-runners barrelled through the Aelorans and Patronus, a second salvo of gunfire went off, and then they hit the enemy lines, carving a deep swathe through them with the momentum of their charge.

"Light take me!" Emma cursed, "Is this valley trying to give me a heart attack?" she exclaimed as the battle coursed around them, seemingly carrying them with it like they were caught up in a literal tide.

Time seemed to move unevenly - at one moment they would see entire sections of battle, at another they would be jumping forwards rapidly as it developed. It was clear what way it was developing, though - the superior numbers of the army were breaking the back of the cavalry. Finally, the vision placed them back to the younger Arrow. His horse was gone, no doubt killed in the fighting, and he stood with a group of his soldiers near the fringe of the battle, fending off the enemy with his bow over their shoulders.

"You have to sound the retreat, brother!" Aliana exclaimed, "We'll be slaughtered! If our allies are wise they will have had their disengage, you need to get us out of here!"

With a pained expression on his face, the ghostly Arrow nodded. "Fall back! Fall back!" he cried, starting to move away from the battlefield with the group of soldiers with him. Towards the edges of the fighting other groups and units followed suit - their neat ranks tatters after the charge - but many were not so lucky, too deep within enemy lines to make their way away.
As Arrow and his fellows scattered towards the woods, the yells of the dying followed them. And then they were gone - replaced by silence as the vision faded to leave the group simply standing in a clear section of the valley.

[Tiko]

(Post co-written by Script, Tiko and Imehal)

"Well..." Emma muttered, "That was ... an experience."

"What in void's name was all that about?" Brent demanded in a fluster.

"I think..." Parlina looked about absently, youth apparent, "That we just saw something that Sir Arrow should explain, rather than taking guesses at it."

Arrow grimaced, "That was a fragment of my past." he said, "One which I had put behind me. I got a lot of people killed that day, and achieved very little. It was my last day as a soldier."

Emma glanced off to the side awkwardly, leaning on her staff, "Well, I suppose it probably technically could have gone worse, right? You could have all died. Right? Not helpful? Gotcha."

With Arrow giving Emma a glare for her efforts, the group lapsed once more into a brief silence to process the events that had just passed. But of course, there was no rest to be had, as the silence was shortly broken by something that was definitely not a member of the group.

Dark whispers began to drift through the air around each of the assembled individuals, unclear at first but slowly increasing in volume and clarity as they continued. The voices were at once harsh and violent, and soothingly seductive - overlapping one another in their clamour for attention. The words were difficult to make out, but repeated words and phrases - 'release me', 'power' and talk of 'bargains' - gave a clear idea of what was going on.

It was like demons filled the air around them, invisibly coaxing each and every one of them into selling their souls for one promise or another.

Parlina covered her ears to see if it would stop the voices, visibly unnerved by the most recent of developments. "Go away," she whispered back, staring out into the mists as if seeking to face down the voices with sheer force of will alone.

"Those, Parlina, are demons," Rynhart's voice spoke up, even as he moved to stand at her back. There was a knowing note to his voice.

"Say what?" Emma blinked, glancing around, "Where?"

"Can't you hear them, Emma?" Talos said, his eyes narrowed angrily and his hand clenched as though he might physically fight the voices off.

"... hear what?" the blood mage replied, confused.

"Are you deaf, woman? Or has that blood magic left you daft in the head?" Brent exclaimed incredulously. His sword was in his hand, as he turned about, a watchful eye on their surroundings.

"Hey, you know what might be a marvelous idea? How about you tell me what you're hearing, because I am quite obviously not hearing it!" Emma rolled her eyes, "Yeah? That might be more helpful than repeatedly asking me about me hearing it. And besides, if I were deaf, I wouldn't be replying to questions!"

"Demons, Emma - we're hearing demons. Voices, promises. I don't understand why you aren't hearing it, unless it's something to do with the damned blood magic." Talos muttered.

"This place is thick with them," Rynhart noted.

"Ooohhhhh." Emma nodded slowly, "I get what's happening. We did soldier-boy, now it's my turn. Now, I suppose if I think about it, I can hear them. But that's just normal for me." The blood mage shrugged, "You tune it out after a while. Very repetitive, quite boring really."

"This is what's inside your head all the time?" Talos exclaimed, "And you claim that your magic is safe?!"
"Far from it!" Emma said cheerfully, "That's what I try to impress on people - it's quite the opposite. Very dangerous. Would probably kill you if you tried it, and then I'd have to kill you again after you sprouted mouths from your eyes and tentacles from those mouths. Not pretty. I'm the exception, not the norm. The magic in itself isn't evil, but the source of it quickly turns nasty if you aren't strong-willed enough to keep it in check."

"Isn't evil?" Brent interupted, boggling at the very concept. "What in void's name is evil to you?"

"Well, think of it this way. Is a sword evil? Except, replace that metaphor with a really nasty looking sword that you 'borrowed' from a shady guy down a back-alley, and he keeps coming up to you at inconvenient moments and trying to strongarm you into paying him for it since you seem to intend to keep it and he's pretty sure you've already dented the blade anyway, but you kick him in the shins and keep the sword anyway because it's a damn useful sword!" Emma tilted her head, as though running that comparison over in her head again to check it for flaws.

Grimacing, Shana turned away, shaking her head and muttering something incomprehensible.

[Tiko]

(Post co-written by Script, Tiko and Imehal)

A new singular voice, impatient and reproachful, broke the silence, its source lost in the mists around them. “Rhianna! Oh damn it girl, where are you?” Parlina stiffened, but there was no time for anything more as the voice continued on. “Come out, we need to get you ready.”

Rynhart placed his hands on Parlina's shoulders, both in response to her spike of unease, and to discourage her from wandering. "This place is trying to break us down and confuse us," he noted. "We should keep moving. These distractions can only keep us from finding a way to escape this place."

"There's no stopping it, Sir Rynhart," Parlina whispered fearfully, "We saw that with Sir Arrow, and Lady Emma. We're trapped."

Then, just as they had before, the mists cleared to reveal a pretty looking young woman, huffing as she turned a corner in a stone corridor alone. There were banners hanging down each wall, emblazoned with a crest that might look familiar to the observant for it was almost a match to the pendant Parlina wore proudly. Views out of windows gave glimpses of a blindly white city viewed from high above, suggesting that they were up a hill or tower.

The woman huffed as she stopped to open a curved oaken door, revealing the room within. It was lavishly decorated – clearly a bedroom – in hues of green, with highlights of silver and white throughout, and it was through the reflection of a silver edged mirror that the woman finally found who she was looking for. All that could be seen at first was the back of a young woman dressed in a green edged silver gown, a neat and elaborate braid, apparently watching the city below.
“The king expected you to be downstairs half an hour ago, princess. You are late to the-“

A voice with no body interrupted, but the well dressed servant appeared to ignore it completely. ’I told you she would find you. There is no escaping your fate, princess.’

“I’m not going downstairs,” the princess interrupted petulantly, head rising in defiance from its position gazing out of the window.

“It is ‘am not’, and most certainly well are-“

The girl whirled on the spot, aquamarine eyes luminescent. She was almost unrecognisable, makeup carefully applied and wearing finery that ill befit the druid that they all knew, but there was no mistaking the necklace the young princess wore about her neck, nor the fluidity of the colour of her eyes. Her hands were in tight fists at her sides, and she now glared at the woman in ill-disguised contempt.

“No, Teserina,” Rhianna replied, but there was a lack of heat in the response.

“Princess Rhianna, you must. If you tarry any longer, you might incur the Regent’s wrath.”

The way that the young princess deflated upon hearing that statement drew forth a cry of protest from her counterpart, but the shadow of Rhianna carried on as if she had not heard anything. Her hand slid to the side of what the mists allowed the group to see, and when it returned to clarity there was a simple tiara in her grasp; one that she placed haphazardly at its place, crooked across her forehead.

"Well, uh, at least we're going to a party for this one. What's the worst that could happen?" Emma murmured.

"I'm glad someone's enjoying this," Parlina muttered bitterly, glaring up at Emma in a manner never before displayed by the well tempered druid.

The mists began to clear once more without ceremony, revealing a large courtyard filled from edge to edge with chattering people, glimpsed through a crack in the curtain that the same princess stood behind.

’The moment you step outside that curtain, your fate is sealed. You will be nothing but a puppet. A piece, kept in check by your compassion and weakness. If you would only listen, young druid, you could save those you love and walk the path you want.’

Rhianna glanced from side to side, her discomfort apparent. There were people milling about all around her, but none were focused on her at this particular moment.

’Elder Joseph said that you only mean me harm.’

A chuckle followed, dark in humour. ’The druid would. He understands my motives, and questions them with his mind, not heart. We both want the same thing child – freedom. Accept me, and I shall free you of the shackles of your father.’

“It is time, princess.”

The voice alone had Parlina backing into Rynhart, little hands clutching at the pendant at her throat as a clean shaved man dressed in finery approached her in the vision, his kind smile perfectly in place. The mists swallowed up the scene, the man's face last to disappear into indistinct swirling once more.

[Tiko]

(Post co-written by Script, Tiko and Imehal)

"For what it's worth," Emma began - this could only end badly, "That voice really sounds like a demon. I mean, come on. Wanting freedom? Offering vague promises in return for it? I bet ten copper it eats souls or something equally offputting."

"Then I knew all along what a demon was," Parlina answered acidily, eyes closed as she half-turned into Rynhart, breaking his hold to try and hide from prying eyes against him.

Rynhart's brow furrowed as Parlina sought to shield herself with his form. She was so much more fragile than he had given to realizing, and he gave Emma a look of warning that her words might be better served elsewhere.

"You might want to consider the possibility that these experiences are affecting others more than they are you," Arrow said softly to Emma, "A little ..." the soldier wanted to say 'tact', but searched for a word that Emma might actually know the meaning of instead, "... consideration in what thoughts you voice might not go amiss."

Emma raised her arms in mock surrender, "Alright, alright -- and there I thought I was helping by showing I don't give a rat's arse about whatever unpleasantries this place is going to throw up."

"We should get moving," Rynhart offered. Anything was better than standing here while they were bombarded by the ghosts of their past.

"Rynhart?" a voice called out from the mists. Even while Rynhart sought to get the group moving, a woman had arrived at its fringes to draw his attention. So alike were they in appearance, one might have mistook them for twins.

"Rhea..." Rynhart's voice held an odd note to it as he disentangled himself from Parlina's arms, stepping away and leaving her behind as he approached the figure of his sister. "Rhea, what are you doing here?"

His surroundings had become almost surreal, distant. There was something familiar about things, but it lay just beyond his perception. He walked through his companions as if they were as unreal to him as they had been to Arrow's ghosts.

"You know why I'm here," Rhea chastised lightly, even as Rynhart closed the gap and pulled her close to kiss her upon the forehead.

He sighed then. "Taima's end in this world grows near, and soon time will claim her as surely as it claims all mortals. Our debt will be fulfilled. There is nothing more for us here."

"Isn't there?" Rhea asked. "What of their cause? Is your debt all that holds you here?"

Rynhart shook his head. "It is not our cause, nor our place to tamper in the fates of mortals. The tribunal would not-"

"The tribunal?" Rhea interrupted abruptly. "Where were the tribunal when the primordials ravished the southern lands? Where were the tribunal when void and shadow took Aelora?" Rhea asked. "They would think themselves beyond the influence of the mortals, but how many of our kind fell when we turned our backs on Aelora?" She sighed then. "As much as the tribunal would wish otherwise, we're as much a part of this world as the mortal races, and we're tied to its fate as surely as they are."

"It is talk like this that got you banished," he replied. "You are of my blood, they would take you back if you would only abandon these misguided notions of an age past. Their cause is without hope, and they will fall. Come back with me and leave them to their fates."

"Would you truly leave them to their fate?" Rhea asked. "What of Alair, and Parlina? The girl is just a child."

"A human child. She is of no consequence to me, none of them are. They will fall, and what will any of this matter in fifty years? Or five hundred? The mountains will be our sanctuary, as they have been for a millennium."

"Dear Rynhart, your heart grows as cold and hardened as the elders," Rhea replied sadly, a hand coming to rest against his cheek gently.

Rynhart pressed his hand over Rhea's and sighed deeply. "I do not understand this compassion you hold for these mortals, but you are my sister and so I will do as you ask. I have never been able to refuse you before, why should I do so now."

He had spoken these words before, he recalled. It had been three nights before the attack on the mountainside temple that Rhea had come to him, and it was then that they had discussed this matter. With recollection came awareness, and he looked to Parlina's fleeting form, his expression softening to something akin to regret at the realization of what had just transpired.

Head bowed, Parlina was already away within the swirling mists, vision marred by them as much as it was by her tears.

"And apparently I'm the one who's insensitive!" Emma commented, "That was harsh, even by my standards."

"Save it," Brent grunted.

"I'll find her, you should press on. These visions are only delaying us," Rynhart replied. "For whatever ends, it can't be good."

[Tiko]

(Post co-written by Imehal and Tiko)

It would not be long before Rynhart came across something tangible in the indiscernible mists that were intent on causing so much friction and upset within their trapped group. An open door, darkness extending within its stone walls, and if he stepped inside there would be only the sound of quiet sniffling to greet him. Vague shapes of furniture were all that could be seen; whatever lighting the room had had been snuffed out.

"Parlina?" Rynhart called from outside. His hand graced the doorframe briefly as he entered cautiously, eyes watchful in their search for Parlina. "Parlina?" he asked again, softer this time as he searched out her form in the murky lighting.

The unlit candles that lined the walls at chest height flickered at the sound, but faded out once more as Rynhart entered the room. The brief illumination had revealed a large bed across the room, and various other pieces of expensive furniture. The sniffling continued, and if listened to, was coming from the far side of the room - possibly the other side of the bed.

"Go away," Parlina replied sharply, still lost in the darkness.

Rynhart felt a pang of regret as he stood there in the darkened room, his shape silhouetted by the open doorway at his back. A silence grew between the pair before he tried again. "Parlina..." he began, but the words to explain eluded him.

The door slammed shut behind him without warning, candlelight illuminating the room so that they could both see each other clearly, Rynhart correctly looking in the direction where Parlina had been hiding. Her attention, however, was not on him but the third figure in the room, curled up at the top of the bed. They were almost twins in their expressions, but the princess on the bed wore a silvery-white gown that was undone at the back to the waist, the lacing broken and trailing across the crumpled pillows. The decidedly full skirts were creased, wrapped up around Rhianna's legs as she made herself into as small a ball as was possible.

There would be bruises on those arms in the morning, and many more tears about this night would fall. Parlina remembered this night most vividly, tearstains down her cheeks before she realised, transfixed upon the disaster that was her former self as she wondered how this could possibly get any worse.

Instinct told Rynhart that he didn't have much time to get through to Parlina and his concern helped him find the words he was lacking.

"Parlina, look at me," Rynhart said. Squatting down so they could see eye to eye, there was genuine regret in his normally impassive and watchful expression. "I did say those things, but the truth of it is, I didn't understand. Rhea did, she was always the compassionate one. You have to trust me on this. Those words were never meant for your ears, and if I could take them back I would. But for now, I need you to trust me, can you do that?"

Movement caught her eye, but Parlina chose to watch herself cry as she listened to Rynhart. It had been so long but the pain was still fresh, and would never fade. That life was gone though, and in its place she had found Taima and the others. Nearly all were lost, and Rynhart remained as the last, but he found her troublesome. Just like her father, and her husband. Her moods were tiresome, she recalled, and unruliness disrespectful to the man who had given her a life beyond her poverty.

"Neither did they. They wanted me to be something I'm not." Parlina said softly, pain making her look far older than her eighteen years, aquamarine eyes flickering to him. "I cried so hard that night because I thought I'd lost everything. I escaped though, and found Taima. Another home."

Parlina turned her gaze on him fully then, distraught as she remembered what he had said earlier. "You knew Taima was going to die," she accused, standing to get away from his gaze, angry and unable to forgive him despite his sincerity. "And you didn't tell any of us!"

"Yes, I knew," he reaffirmed. "But it wasn't my secret to tell," he explained. "I don't think even she knew how much time she had," he offered with a shake of his head as he too stood. "In the end, she faced her death, in a time and a place of her choosing. None of us, not even me, could have foreseen that it would be so."

Parlina barely noticed as the nearly disrobed princess got up, walking around the room as the one-sided conversation that she remembered with Aliana echoed against the stone walls. "I could have stayed with her. She didn't have to die alone." The lights flickered, and Parlina looked across the room and locked gazes with the girl who did not even know they were standing there. "I wanted to say goodbye properly to her, we all did. And you knew and didn't tell us. I am always kept in the darkness, but I never thought you would do that to me."

"She was going to tell you, that night," Rynhart explained. The words felt empty though, knowing now what he did not know then. "Parlina, there's more at work here than you understand." He sighed then, waving his hands in a gesture of exasperation at his inability to find the right words for the situation.

"I know," Parlina replied tersely, glaring across at Rynhart now as footsteps could be heard outside the closed door. It was locked, they would get in but it was too late to save her any hurt. "But that doesn't make the fact that you, like so many others, have made me feel so unbelievably small. I'm just a child, but I thought you thought more of me than that. I had to, because otherwise..." Parlina trailed off, tears forming as she tried to finish the sentence, but the words caught in her throat.

Rynhart stepped forward, gripping her shoulders before simply pulling her close with a heavy sigh. "I was foolish, and I was wrong," Rynhart confessed. "I'm still here, aren't I?" he asked, his tone lightening ever so marginally.

Parlina pressed herself against his front just like before, clutching at his waist as he spoke, nodding rapidly against him. It subconsciously registered that she was soaking his shirt with tears, but she cried regardless. He had stayed. The mists closed in, swallowing up the room of nightmares in their haze until the two were standing back on the formless dreamscape once more.

Rynhart held Parlina, offering what support he could in the simple gesture, but his own expression grew somber and hard as he looked past to the images of the tribunal fading into the mist. "We'll stay here as long as you need," Rynhart reassured her. He seemed in no hurry to return her to the scrutiny of the group until she was ready.