Two words immediately flashed through Per'dra's mind when the mysterious woman spoke: V'toryv and no. She feared that too many strangers--who had now become acquaintances, but were still strangers nonetheless--knew about the Great Wyrm and the mission to which she herself had called the Bard. Instead of mentioning anything about her nightmares as she had before, or what the Elf had revealed to her at the Drunkard's Haven, Per'dra spoke of more immediate matters. What were they now but a band of misfits on the run from something they couldn't defeat?

"We've all come from the city of Paryer," Per'dra explained, "which has just recently been destroyed by a vast army calling itself the Purge. Its goal is to wipe out everything and everyone in Sazhen', unless they convert to the Purge's cause. It's ironic, because the Purge claims to want to rid this realm of all evil and wickedness. They cannot see the darkness within their own hearts." Pausing for a moment, she continued, "I guess you could call us refugees. We have experienced a loss recently, that of our ferryman, and we've burned his raft as a funeral pyre. And to throw the Purge off course."

Tael couldn't help himself but smirk at the strange turn of events.

"How ironic. First I save your life, then you save mine.", he said to Meara. "We're even.", he added, with a smile.

Tael glanced around, unable to recognize where he is.

"Where are we?", he asked, looking at Per'dra.

Sighing, she informed him: "Our ferryman, Oleg, was shot through the neck last night by an arrow from a Purge assassin's bow! No one noticed his passing until this morning, and by then we'd gone off course from the Auris River. We're now in a forest along the banks of the Cherna, in Dark Elven territory..."

At this new information, the mystery woman's eyes lit up. "The Auris! Towns along its banks, nothing special. Where it ends, special."

She began pacing. "Our paths. Same direction, same destination. Dwarves await." She stared at the party curiously. "They don't take kindly to strangers. How would you gain entry?"

But before anyone could answer, she shook her head. "Doesn't matter. I can help. Dwarves contacted the Network. Want information. Classified, can't say what. I have it."

Her pacing stopped and she grinned widely at Per'dra. "But why trust me? Why trust you? Purge makes an easy scapegoat. I can prove us both trustworthy to one another, Leader. Telepathy-by-touch."

She pulled the glove off her right hand and wiggled her fingers. "But dare you risk it? You show caution. Good. But if Purge after you, you have little time. Choose quickly."

Leader? Per'dra wasn't sure she liked the term, or if it suited her. It fit like a too-large set of clothes, leaving her to stumble and trip over the sagging parts! After all, wasn't a leader a hero--someone who was mighty in battle, almost invincible, and so righteous that he or she wouldn't even think of doing wrong? Wasn't a leader someone that the Purge might very well torture to have on their side, instead of kill outright? Wasn't a leader someone far stronger than she?

I'm simply fleeing for my life, she thought, a slum-dweller sent on a mission by an unknown force. Who knows if we'll even succeed? A true leader knows we will, but I? I did not face the Purge with any courage. I just ran...

"What's the Network?" she blurted out, not even realizing she was clearing the previous thoughts from her mind. "And what kind of information would be so classified that a beautiful stranger here in this forest knows it, but not a King?" She withdrew her hand at first from the vicinity of the mysterious woman's fingers, but then reconsidered. "I think all of us could use another ally against the Purge, because we need all the help we can get against an army that size..." Hesitantly, she placed her palm within the stranger's own.

"But why trust me? Why trust you? Purge makes an easy scapegoat. I can prove us both trustworthy to one another, Leader. Telepathy-by-touch."

"I do hope that the question is merely hypothetical in nature.", Tael said, glaring at the mystery woman. "But you and Meara saved my life, so hopefully that doesn't mean that you would seek to kill us." Tael paused, and took note of the current state of the group. "And I don't think we necessarily have a leader. We're merely a rag-tag group of individuals trying to survive from the Purge."

Vakarr never took his gaze away from this mysterious woman. He found it quite odd that she was out here, all alone. Her eye color was one thing that made him raise a brow. She was human, wasn't she? That wasn't what bugged him though. What bugged him was that she had found this group in no time. Things seemed a little too... convenient for his tastes.

For the time being though, he followed the group to the fire she had. His gaze met hers for a few seconds as she looked around at the group. Was she silently judging him, like he was judging her. The others began to speak about a few things that didn't interest him...mainly the ferryman. What caught his interest was the mentioning of the dwarves. Per'dra didn't bring them up, this mysterious woman did. This only made Vakarr even more suspicious of this woman.

What he saw next took his completely off guard. The woman removed her glove, claiming this group could trust her simply by touching another's hand. The very thought of it was so silly that Vakarr almost broke into laughter. What did take him over the edge so to speak was that Per'dra actually went for it as she clasped hands with the woman. He let out a deep laugh which was just a bit eerie to listen to.

"You can't be serious about this? Am I the only one who finds it odd that we found this woman so quickly after being attacked? That perhaps she's a spy working with the Purge? That we're really suppose to believe she is trustworthy because she can touch hands? I'm sorry, but I find that very hard to believe," Vakarr said.

Tegan thought for a moment about this strange woman's offer, and then spoke up,

"I don't trust you. A skilled telepath could still deceive others through the link. Vakarr's right. You could be a spy, but you're being too obvious. Maybe you're not with the Purge, but that doesn't make you an ally."

"If it makes you two feel any better," Per'dra replied, "I didn't feel or sense anything when we touched hands. Perhaps the link didn't work. I was rather expecting a warm, fuzzy sensation, or maybe a brand on my palm. Instead, I only felt the smooth skin of your hand, good woman. I appreciate your trying to help us, especially with Tael being wounded, but Vakarr's right. The Purge has spies everywhere, and who's to say they haven't already ventured to this forest on the Cherna River? They've been trying to slaughter or capture everyone for a while now, although bit by bit instead of a sudden assault like the one on Paryer." Stifling back tears, she said, "How far have their forces really spread?"

At the physical contact, the woman winced, but did nothing until Per'dra released her hand. As the murmurs of discontent and distrust rippled through the group, she began massaging her forehead.

In reply to Tael, she said, "Leaderless? No. You have destination. Destination suggests leadership."

To Vakarr and Tegan she offered a smile. "Skilled, I am not."

Turning to Per'dra, she said, "You got nothing?" She murmured a few words in her strange language. "Your name, I now have. Per'dra." She smiled faintly. "Beautiful name. Only information I learned from you."

She began pacing again. "Purge has spread far. Yes, even here. Heading for Dark Elves next, if information accurate."

Her gaze turned back to Per'dra. "You asked earlier. The Network. The Spy from Nowhere. Zhaanain. All are one. I am representative. Akeirra, my name."

((OOC: In my next post, I'll have the Purge continuing to burn up Paryer. I promise! :xp:))

"Leaderless? No. You have destination. Destination suggests leadership."

"For some reason, I doubt that. Destination suggests the place where we have to go. Leadership is determined by who has the best leadership traits. From what I observed, Per'dra, me, or him, would make adequate leaders for the group.", Tael replied, making a gesture towards Vakarr.

"And he's right. Even though you saved my life, this is WAY too convenient for my tastes. And no, I don't believe in coincidence.", Tael added, agreeing with Vakarr.

Emi was kind of hiding behind Per'dra while everyone else was talking to the mystery woman. She looked at her for a moment and then back at Per'dra and the others.

"I... think that... Per'dra should lead... after all... she's the one that... knows the way", Emi said simply talking about how Per'dra was the only one with the link to V'toryv. She was the only one who could communicate with her, so it made her the logical choice for leadership.

The Bard gave Emi's hand a slight and hesitant squeeze, along with a smile. "Thank you for the vote of confidence," she told the Reaver amiably, "but, whether I'm the leader or not, I'm afraid we'll have to make a decision if we're going to outrun the Purge. As for you, Akeirra..." She trailed off. "I have never heard of this Network or the Spy from Nowhere, except in rumors about town spoken in dingy taverns. If you speak the truth, then apparently those rumors have some veracity. For all I know, you could be a spy for the Purge itself, although I sense none of the..." She was about to say mark of dragon's blood, but revealing that piece of information would betray V'toryv and the secret Per'dra had sworn to the Elf to keep. Coughing, she continued:

"As I was saying, I sense absolutely none of the aura that surrounds any member loyal to the Purge. It's a pull of subtle strength and power, much like the force found in iron ore which makes compasses point. Also, the more people that they kill, the stronger their bodies become. If they take prisoners and convert them, however, their souls absorb the converts' 'fifth essence', the ability that gives them the power to make decisions freely. It's a terrible fate for a Purge captive either way. In regards to this pervasive aura..."

Blinking, Per'dra let her mind slip into the vastness and beauty of the universe.

"If I suspected that you had it...I'd kill you. Not even Emi, the Reaver by my side, has full control over the power she wields. It grieves her, I do believe."

Stepping back, she raised her head and said: "Despite the fact that none of us, including myself, trust you completely, we do need a guide through this forest if we're going to find the Auris River again and get off the Cherna. I know next to nothing about this territory, because I fear the Dark Elves. It's no use to any of us if we go tromping through the brush and trees not knowing whither we wander! Besides, I think that for saving Tael's life, we shouldn't leave you here to be ambushed or slain by the Purge. Thus--"

She took a deep breath. "At least for right now, welcome aboard, Akeirra."

Vakarr smiled a hidden smile as he looked around at the others. He was glad to see that people agreed with them. What he was most appreciative of was Tael's claim at him being a potential leader. He would make an expectational leader, one they needed. Not that he didn't have faith in Per'dra. She was proving to be competent enough.

Suddenly Vakarr found himself somewhat irritated with Per'dra. The slightest growl suddenly emitted from his throat when she spoke to Emi. His annoyance grew when she welcomed Akeirra. Vakarr still didn't trust this woman, and a few others didn't either. He shook his head in disapproval.

"I'm still not convinced, and don't think we should welcome her just yet." Vakarr said.

He looked to Akeirra before slowly taking off one his his gauntlets, revealing a gray hand. He slowly walked over to Akeirra, only needing to move a short distance as he was on the other side of Emi. He held his hand out to Akeirra. He soon however took it away.

"Forgive me Miss Akeirra, but if your trust though touch truly works I wish to see this for myself. " Vakarr said as he stuck his hand back out.

"I think that to be on the safe side, we should be wary of her.", Tael said, trying to draw a compromise.

City of Paryer

Uradus swung his chained hook, killing two civilians. As he walked forward, he heard weeping in the building next to him. A child. A look crossed his face as he turned, seeing a little girl, roughly six years old, standing in the doorway - crying. As he rose his chain, he heard the unmistakable click of a loaded crossbow.

Don't even think about it., a voice intruding his mind said.

He turned his head to see Athaso, holding his crossbow in his outstretched right arm, finger resting on the trigger.

"What?", Uradus asked bitterly. Athaso always did bother him.

Are you so fallen that you must take the life of a child, one who has just lost her family?, the voice replied, coldly.

Athaso never did speak directly. He always preferred to speak telepathically - a technique he learned from some old book.

"She just lost her family! I'm doing her a favor!", Uradus shot back.

It is morally wrong for one to take the life of a child, no matter what position they might be in. The Purge should not stoop so low to take the life of one who hasn't even had an actual life yet - but alas, animals like you do it anyway!, the voice said.

"Your validity is unneeded. We're Purging this world of the evil and the wicked, and killing her would spare her from the memory of watching her whole family slaughtered!", Uradus said, gripping his chained hook.

You easily fall into the category of evil and the wicked. I've watched you kill. You enjoy the bloodshed as if it is a wonderous feast for you - the glory you get from the lakes of blood on your hands, the piles of bodies inside of cities scorched from our eternal flames. I merely kill because I believe that it is necessary - you kill for glory, and you lust for wanton slaughter., the voice paused, then continued.

The Purge does not need a liability like you, you wicked animal.

It was then that Uradus noticed the glint of mercury on the tip of his arrow. He would easily be able to shear the arrow with his chained hook once it was in the air, but Athaso had a stiletto, and was much faster than him. The odds were stacked evenly: Athaso had speed and flexibility, while Uradus had size and strength. But before either could fight, however, he felt his whole body slam into a wall. Strangely, it happened to Athaso as well. He turned to see Fa'ask, who used telekinesis to slam each other backwards into opposite walls.

"You two on the verge of nearly killing each other, again?", Fa'ask asked, obviously knowing the answer. Noticing the child still standing at the doorway, he made a swift motion with his hand - a knife plunged into her neck, killing her instantly.

"Save your anger for the rest of the wicked in this city.", Fa'ask said, walking away.

"Forgive me Miss Akeirra, but if your trust though touch truly works I wish to see this for myself. " Vakarr said as he stuck his hand back out.

Akeirra looked down at his hand, a little uncertainly. "Didn't say trust. Said telepathy. I'm in early stages development, manifests as telepathy-by-touch only. And even then, not much information. We exchange names, scattered images, fragments of surface thought, snippets of native language."

She glanced again at Per'dra. "Curious Per'dra got nothing. I had hoped..." She sighed. "My connection to the Network, my aversion to the Purge, these things I hoped would transfer. But they didn't. You're different somehow."

Turning back to Vakarr, she sighed. "I honor your request."

After one final moment of hesitation, she placed her bare hand in Vakarr's waiting one. For a moment, nothing happened. Then, a faint tingling sensation rushed up Vakarr's arm and things he had never known were suddenly there in his mind.

Zhannain translates "unknown"... Spy from Nowhere... ally... Akeirra... Dwarves seek information... avoid the Purge... sacrifice life before delivering Network information to enemies...

With a yelp of pain, Akeirra drew her hand away, bringing both of them up to massage her forehead. "Sorry, Vakarr," she groaned. "I had to terminate connection. For you, a slight tingling. For me, raging headache."

Perhaps her pain fueled it, but she seemed even more agitated now. "No time to lose. Purge will be drawn aside by ferryman's pyre. Not long though. Time to be moving."

Empty....Yes, the great city of Paryer was empty. Void of all the life it once had, it was a cryptic, hollow world of shadow and silence now, only offset by the glow of spreading flames.

A large, cloaked figure rode throughout the streets on the back of a hulking horse (if it could be called that), covered from head to hoof in old brass-like barding, and draped in a faded trapper, with designs of unknown make, meaning, or origin; slick black eyes the only indication that the creature this equally hulking figure now rode was alive at all, or even remotely a horse.

The figure stopped, looking down at the smoldering remains of a building, the distinct shapes of lanky, black-boned corpses lay about under the the charred remains and ashes, a fading but still pointedly pungent smell of burnt alcohol in the air. The figure dismounted, striding cautiously over to the blackened remains of the building, stooping down near one of the burnt corpses, a gauntlet appearing from under the cloak, reaching out to touch the skeletal remains with the bare tips of it's metal covered fingers. The figure tensed, reaching out, it pulled a crossbow bolt out of the skull of the blackened corpse with a hard jerk; raising the object up to it's hooded face, it's grasp tightened, and nearly snapped the bolt, but instead replaced it's hand back within the cloak, the bolt disappearing with it.

The figure stood, moving off down the street at a ponderous pace, the hulking horse tromping along a distance behind the figure.

Coming close to the edge of the city, the figure paused, looking out at the see of life outside, distant shapes, tents, fires, the Purge, resting from it's recent endeavors to destroy one of the largest cities that Man had claims to. Then it's hooded gaze turned, staring at the hushed devastation about, the empty buildings, creaking, cackling, and whispering in the breeze that was spreading the massive fires of the Gold District throughout the rest of the city, bodies of bystanders strewn about, it's head lowering shaking in the absolute slightest that one would think the wind were simply playing with the figure's hood if they didn't know otherwise. But nobody was there to see, nobody knew otherwise.

The figure raised it's head, the hooded facade angling this way and that as it silently observed the cobblestone covered graveyard with the buildings as it's oppressing wooden headstones. But the hood suddenly halted, the figure's body tensing; with it's head still stooped down somewhat, but looking out to the side, it was a deterring sight as the hulking figure stood paused in it's actions and observation.

Moving as if incoherent, the figure strode up to a small form in the doorway of one of those wooden giants that laughed like a crone when the wind caressed it. Falling to it's knees with a 'thud', the clattering of metal could be heard as it did, the gauntlet appeared once more, joined by it's sibling, the figure reaching out to the small form, lifting it's head in one of it's hands. Brushing aside thin wispy hair from the still form's face; the girl's eyes still open, grey and filmed over, thin lines of moisture barely evident anymore could be seen trailed down her pale white cheeks, metal fingers traced her cold blue lips. The figure stooped over the dead child, slowly, ponderously, scooping the child up in a manner almost obsessive, bringing it's hooded face near the girls own, a single dark drop fell on her forehead, the red bead of liquid running off into the lining of her hair. As the figure began to straighten up from it's near fetal position, it began to tremble, then shake violently, an unnatural guttural sound like that of a terrible beast of pure wrath and enmity rumbled from the figure like thunder during a great storm.

Standing, girl in arms, the figure stormed off in long strides that carried it towards the Purge encampment. ((Imagine Darth Vader when he walks))
______

"Sir! We weren't expecting your arrival so soon! But I am happy to report that nearly all who were captured have joined the Purge, Sir! We have thousands, uh......" The Purge Lieutenant paused, his face lowering, and look going plain. The minor officer looked back up at the hooded figure's shadowed and covered face, his own face growing stern as a slow realization came over him and the surrounding soldiers at their campfires who'd been watching, now all silent and still, a growing sense of dread clinging to the air.

Another bestial sound of primal spite and rage could be heard rumbling forth from the ominous figure, the men freezing in shear terror of their leader.

"Bring me Fa'ask!!!"

((Wanted to do more, post as my Elf and Dwarf, etc., but it was late. Also, killing children is a no-no, even for Purge, Papa Poteryannyĭ spank rebellious Fa'ask. :eek: ))

"Bring me Fa'ask!!!"

Fa'ask heard the words reverberate in the air - the unmistakable voice of Poteryannyĭ.

He strode towards the entrance to the camp, walking with a brisk pace. Stopping a few meters away from Poteryannyĭ - Fa'ask was flanked by Uradus to his left, and Athaso to his right. Poteryannyĭ's authority and intimidation could only be rivaled by Fa'ask's own - and even then - Fa'ask was paled in comparison.

"You summoned me, sir?", he asked - barely any twinge of fear or emotion in his voice.

In the Forest of Trepidation, along the Cherna River

Even though it was still daylight out, Per'dra moved among its trees and brush as cautiously as if night had fallen. The Dark Elves were renowned for their stealth and assassination skills, with camouflage being a close third. Hired killers and lookouts for the Purge could be everywhere--not to mention hostile and territorial locals. That was why she and the others only dared to speak to one another if it was absolutely necessary. Still, the unique sounds of their footsteps in the forest were as unmistakable as messages in code.

The Bard's own tracks were fox-like, hesitant: Slip! Slip! Tap! Slip...

In contrast, those of Vakarr were forceful: Stomp! Stomp! Stomp!

The Reaver's footfalls were light and nervous: Skitter, skitter, skitter...

Tael, though a warrior, made each step deliberately: Crunch, crunch...

Hopefully, any strangers that they came across would take them for a band of hunters, although who would need this many people along to go hunting? If all else failed, Per'dra would tell any who encountered them that they were refugees from the Purge. This was true, and besides, who else needed to know about V'toryv and the fateful mission upon which she'd sent them? In a sudden flash of insight, Per'dra realized that was the reason why Akeirra had not been able to perform telepathy upon her as easily as she'd expected.

The Great Wyrm was protecting her consciousness from intrusion. She had to be. Otherwise, Per'dra knew that she herself could easily fall victim to torture or mind-reading tricks from skilled mages affiliated with that wicked army. In spite of Akeirra's helpfulness so far, and skill in helping to save Tael's life, the Bard still didn't trust her completely. She'd just have to wait and see...

Vakarr had a hidden smirk on his face as he too felt nothing but her bare hand against his own. Then he felt a tingling feeling in his palm. The feeling moved from his palm, down to his fingers and up the rest of his arm.

Images began flashing in Vakarr's mind. He didn't know what he was seeing at first, but soon heard Akeirra's name. Something about the Network, and the dwarves. The most important bit he saw was the warning of the Purge, and to avoid them. She couldn't be working with them.

Vakarr took a step back when she let go of his hand and held her head. He quickly put his gauntlet back on, wanting to move out as well. He had gotten images from her, and knew she had gotten some from him. He knew exactly what she got too.

Images of his mother and a younger version of him were the first things she would see. The death of his mother and him crying would come next. His hatred of the Purge, proving his loyalty, came next. His desire for power was thrown in as well. Lastly came this little group, and what he thought of them. Some were put up...much much higher than the others...and now Akierra probably knew that.

Vakarr stayed silent as they walked. His footsteps were much louder than the others. Given his height and armor, it made sense. He followed Per'dra, still recognizing her as the group's leader. He never spoke to her about the growl from earlier, and was certain she let it pass...or she feared bringing it up. He glanced over at Emi for a few seconds before looking away. Did she fear him as well? Vakarr sighed quietly as they continued walking.

The Forest of Trepidation had not earned its nickname for naught. Not only did it harbor possible scouts and assassins for the Purge, but also poisonous foliage and concealed traps. The Dark Elves used many of these for hunting game, but not the ones tipped with mercury and a native concoction called dur'natha. Animals were not the prey they sought with these particular snares. It was a well-known fact in Sazhen' that several races, including the Forest Elves and Umbermen, considered the Dark Elves evil to the core and sought to eradicate them. Thus, the Dark Elves fortified their homeland with every possible defense. Their imposing capital city, Tener'ixal, with the X making an "sh" sound, was actually a darker and more convoluted version of the Forest Elves' treetop home. Unbeknownst to everyone in this ragtag band of courageous adventurers, they were walking right underneath it until...

"Agh!" Per'dra gritted her teeth as a trap closed tightly around her foot.

"My lady!" Meara, the barmaid who had so far been bringing up the rear of the group, suddenly barreled forward and almost knocked several party members to the ground. "Is it--is it poisoned?" She'd heard rumors about such things.

"I don't know," the Bard replied, practically gasping the words, "but get it off!" As Meara frantically tried to locate the spring mechanism for the trap, the rest of the group noticed that, as they looked up, hundreds of bows were drawn in the trees above. All of them contained sharp arrows ready to fire...

Tael gripped both of his swords when Per'dra was tangled into a net. However, as he looked up he saw hundreds of arrows pointed at them - with the archers undoubtedly lining up their shots. A battle they wouldn't most likely survive, he dropped both of his swords onto the ground, and raised both of his arms.

"Hold your fire - this doesn't have to end in bloodshed!", Tael shouted to the archers in the trees.

"Hold!"

The voice echoing down through the forest's immense and gnarled trees was not only threatening, but loud enough to make the Dark Elven archers freeze. They remained poised like statues, bows still drawn, not daring to breathe. The wrath of the presence that commanded this voice was great and terrible. None dared oppose the Lord of the Hunt, Un'adrubin, Captain of the Guard of Tener'ixal. He stepped to the ledge of one of the treetop city's platforms--the one supporting the royal palace, which vanished into thick violet haze.

"You are trespassing in our homeland, the Forest of Trepidation!"

Wiping tears from her eyes, Per'dra coughed and cupped her hands to her lips:

"My lord, we realize this, but we have no other choice. We're lost, having been diverted from our course along the Auris River by...rather unforeseen circumstances. With our ferryman dead, now burning on the raft that he once commandeered, we have no idea how to locate the Intertwining of the Seven Snakes of the Riault River. We shall leave once we have new directions."

Complete silence. After sixty tense seconds, the Captain of the Guard said:

"Truly? What are these 'circumstances' of which you speak?"

"The Purge. They slew the ferryman, and are now coming for us all..."

Emi turned sharply as soon as she heard Per'dra's painful gasp and was nearly tumbled on to the ground by Meara, who ran to her side as quickly as she could manage. Emi however moved quickly around her companions on to Per'dra's side and did not even look at the now menacing arrows that were pointed in their direction. She quickly eyed the trap, she pulled a small iron nail and cut a cord to loosen the trap, she then helped Per'dra out to take the trap off her foot and quickly wrapped her wound in bandages she had that smelled a bit funny, but that was only because it had essence of healing salves that she used herself for... her own personal scars.

"Is it... better now?", Emi asked.

As soon as the trap had sprung, Akeirra ducked into the shadows, fearing an ambush. Instinctively, she thought only of her own safety. But she had barely left the group - could still reach out and touch two of them, in fact - when the point of an arrow was gently touched against her back. She froze, knowing the arrow would run her clean through if she dared move.

She turned her head slowly until she could see the Elf holding her at arrowpoint. He wore a grim expression, and the look in his eyes told her he wanted nothing more than to be ordered to release the arrow he held at her back. Still, he would not go against his standing orders, and Akeirra deemed it necessary to use that to her advantage.

Slowly, she reached back, a card in her hand, turning it so he could see what was written there. The archer's eyes narrowed as his sharp eyes took in the small slip. He was torn between keeping silent, as he was supposed to, or speaking up. It was important information, after all. Even the Dark Elves had made use of Zhannain's Network.

"Captain," he said at last. "This one bears Zhannain's calling card."

Respectfully, Tegan spoke up in her native tongue, "They're right. The Purge is coming, I've seen it with my own eyes." She knew she was rusty in the Drow language, but they other Dark Elves would most likely take more kindly to being spoken to in it than in the Common Tongue.

"You have to be ready. You might be able to fight them off, but don't expect them to ignore you. They don't discriminate in who they kill. Let us in, help us, and we might be able to stop them." She pleaded with the leader.

The voice of the Lord of the Hunt thundered through the trees once more:

"One of the True, our own sacred children, deigns to speak to me? Who are you, dark daughter, and why are you traveling with this band of the False?" A slight pause. "Why have you not been here with us all along?" Almost all of the Dark Elves referred to themselves as "the True," because they believed themselves to be the only real Elves and race blessed by the gods of Sazhen. Forest Elves, they believed in turn, were merely corrupted reflections of their own image. Forest Elves, incidentally, professed faith in the reverse doctrine. Who was right? None could tell.

When no one answered Un'adrubin immediately, he cleared his throat and said:

"True One, you and the Spy shall enter our city immediately and tell us everything you know concerning this 'Purge'. The rest of you shall be held captive underneath the threat of our arrows until I myself know all is well."

At the captain's words, Akeirra relaxed a little. She smiled at the Elf behind her as he eased his arrow off the bow, as if to thank him for speaking up. He met her smile with a stony expression, as if he wished he'd let his arrow fly before seeing what it was she was offering him. Then, she glanced at Tegan and with a simple gesture in the direction of the captain's voice, she moved forward to obey his orders. As she passed by Per'dra, she dropped to one knee and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

"Take heart," she said quietly, the pace of her words slower, the cadence smoother. "The word of one of their own will surely persuade them to authorize our release." She frowned darkly. "If I'm wrong... there may yet be hope." She tapped her forehead with a knowing smile. "Oh, the secrets I keep."

"I certainly hope you're right," Per'dra told Akeirra, with her foot still smarting. So far, she didn't think that the trap that had ensnared it had been poisoned. If so, she would have experienced immediate symptoms. If not...how much longer did she have? The Bard dared not call out to the Dark Elven archers and tell them that she was injured. As far as she could tell, they still considered her band of brave adventurers to be invaders of their territory. Thus, she remained silent.

Two long woven nets, made of rhubarb-colored vines, were lowered down from the heights of Tener'ixal in order to transport Akeirra and Tegan. Once they had been caught and hoisted up into the hazy branches of the treetops, the Lord of the Hunt sheathed his broadsword and squared his shoulders at the two women.

"I consider both of you informants," Un'adrubin told them sternly, "and temporary guests within our city. Conduct yourselves accordingly." Social graces and common courtesies that most Humans took for granted, such as saying please and thank you, were utterly foreign to Dark Elves. It was not that they were intending to be rude, but those of their race preferred to get straight to the point. Etiquette was for diplomats, sycophants, inferiors and foreign visitors--such as these two. Even Tegan was under suspicion in Un'adrubin's mind, because she had chosen to ally herself with common rabble. Not only that, but she'd left Tener'ixal.

Once the three of them were inside the High Palace, Un'adrubin explained:

"Our Clerics of Moonshadow, who read the skies by night and see the future revealed within, have seen the face of the moon bathed in blood! It is not even autumn in Sazhen', and yet this occurs..." He trailed off, musing. "It is likely a sign that the 'Purge' of which you speak is coming to slaughter us, but when? How far have they spread? Tell me everything." He waited in tense silence for the two to speak.

At first Vakarr drew his mighty sword. Despite being surrounded, he was preparing to place a protection spell over himself and attack these archers. Then he saw more and more and quickly realized they would soon lose that fight. He put his weapon away as he slowly looked around, and to his joy soon found out who they were.

Dark Elves. Finally, some class amongst this mostly human group. He didn't blame the elves for keeping them like this. The group was mostly human afterall, they couldn't be trusted at the moment. He felt confident when Tegan spoke in the native tongue. He didn't know what she was saying, he just knew it was the language. What came next was dream crushing for Vakarr.

The Dark Elves were letting Tegan and Akierra into the city...but the others had to stay here, him included. Vakarr's head darted to Tegan, and now was tempted to remove his helmet. His hidden eyes pleaded for him to come as well. He didn't want to have to stay here, he shouldn't have to. Soon the three were gone and Vakarr was stuck with the others.

Vakarr couldn't believe what had just happened. They...they rejected him, just as the humans did. All these years he respected their race and finally he got a chance to meet his mother's people...and they saw him as nothing more than a threat, something different. The humans saw him as different, as a threat...even from childhood. He refused to believe that his mother's race could do the same...they just couldn't.

The armored tank looked around at the archers with a new hatred. He didn't need the Dark Elves. They wanted to judge him, well then he could do the same. He looked back to his own group, silently judging them. They were the same, everyone was the same. They feared him, they felt threatened by him, they hated him...everyone did.

"A real leader would have gotten us out of this," Vakarr said to Per'dra. "A real leader would have had two or three people take care of the ferry while the others slept. A real leader would have had the strength to carry her cowardly friend out of a bar. You have done none of these things. You are weak, pathetic! Following you will do nothing but get this group killed!"

Vakarr's hidden pain, and anger over what happened was not something he could simply ignore. Sadly it seemed he was going to take this pain out on poor Per'dra.

The victim of Vakarr's verbal onslaught listened to his words with a mixture of shame and rage. Everything he said was absolutely true: she hadn't protected Oleg, had the foresight to watch her own feet carefully enough to avoid a trap, or possessed the strength to rescue the unconscious Meara. However, she'd never asked to be a leader--only someone who stayed in front of the Purge! "I'm no telepath," she hissed through clenched teeth, "and cannot divine the future. All I have is my...connection," Per'dra said, pausing because she didn't want to reveal the name of the Great Wyrm while the archers above were listening. "All I want is to stay alive and ahead of the Purge!"

"SILENCE!" shouted a voice from above, and an arrow flew at Per'dra.

However, against the Dark Elf's wildest calculations, the Bard caught it.

Instead of tossing the arrow back into the treetops toward the archer who had fired it, however, she balanced it carefully in her fingertips, intending to jab it into the slit in Vakarr's helmet that revealed his eyes. If necessary, she'd gouge at least one of them out! An infernal fury coursed through her veins--the same fury that she'd felt when she'd been continually insulted and underestimated by her "betters" in the slums of Paryer. Was Vakarr the same as they were? He was certainly cold, disdainful, and calculating. However, did he possess the same cruelty? She suddenly remembered the noble who'd attempted to--No. Not now. We're under a stalled attack, fool!

The arrow Per'dra clenched in her fist was a mere flick away from Vakarr's right eye. Surprisingly, he wasn't springing to attack her in return. Instead, his stance remained planted, as if to ward off a shield bash. Not even a gale could knock him over, the Bard suspected, if it suddenly happened along! Making a split-second decision, she snapped the arrow clean in half instead of using it to make her opponent lose half of his sight. Disgusted with herself, she flung the halves away:

"You say I'm weak and pathetic, Vakarr. Fine. At least I'm sensible enough not to wound someone who is supposed to be my ally, no matter how much I wanted to right now. What do you suggest I do?" Pause. "I'm asking honestly, since the Dark Elves didn't want to let me into their city either." She was shocked at how much she sincerely meant this; she'd intended to be as haughty as her friend-turned-foe. Still, her berserker's rage was not abating easily. Sweat beaded on her forehead.

"Milady?" That was Meara. "I could whip this arse-hole's hind end if you won't."

Per'dra's head swiveled nearly all the way around. "Sorry-no. Stand down."

Vakarr stared Per'dra down as she began to speak. The two were toe to toe and practically nose to nose...helmet in this case. He listened to her words, and how she simply wanted to survive the Purge. An understandable goal, but not one strong enough to continue to lead on. This connection she spoke of, whoever was guiding her had gotten them away from danger and tried to set them on the path to the Dwarves.

The sudden cry of an archer hadn't startled him. The sound of him firing an arrow hadn't started him either. His armor was tough, a mere arrow wouldn't do anything to harm him. Per'dra catching the arrow? That did managed to startle him. He watched as she held the arrow, her eyes glaring at him. She wanted to attack him with that arrow.

Vakarr did nothing as she stared at him, arrow still in her hands. If she wanted to fight, he would certainly give her one. He never took his eyes off Per'dra's own, just waiting. He currently had mixed emotions. He wanted her to do it, attack him. He wanted her to stand up to him, to break free from fear. Perhaps he also wanted a reason to attack her as well.

His eyes darted to the arrow in her hands for a second, then they were locked back with her own. Did he in turn fear her? No, he couldn't fear anyone else. Earlier he had thought of her as different from her kind, something he still believed. Why did he want her to attack then?

He stood his ground, but did not reach for a weapon or raise his fists to combat her. He watched as she split the arrow in half and tossed it aside. He stayed silent, breathing slowly as she spoke. Why was she asking for his opinion on what to do?

Vakarr was taken by surprise from this as well. Despite what had just happened she still asked him. She seemed angry and perhaps a little upset when speaking that he was suppose to be her ally. She saw him as an ally? Instead of silencing him, she wanted his opinion...did she really value it? The question of why he wanted to attack her popped back up. Did he want her to attack because he was looking for a fight...or did he want her to because he was afraid. Not of her, not of anyone else. He feared he might actually be a part of this group, a valued member.

"Right now? There is nothing you can do. Staying silent was the best option for now," he said as he began calming down.

Vakarr continued to stare at Per'dra. She was close enough that she could see his eyes through his helmet. He knew this as he was certain she was choosing which eye to take out. His eyes had been fierce, menacing, threatening...just like him.

"Archer. Thei...our leader is still injured from the trap. She will require some treatment. We can wait until our allies prove that we are not a threat. However, your leader might find out about the attempted murder that went on here, and how an order to guard this group was blatantly disobeyed. You're a strong warrior though, and I know it won't need to come to that. Its a simple request, and this treatment could be preformed right here if need be." Vakarr kept a respectful tone, not wanting to ruin Akierra and Tegan's chances to speak with the Dark Elves.

As Vakarr spoke these words to the archer, his gaze never met the dark elf. They stayed with Per'dra most of the time, and only to Emi for a few passing seconds before going back to Per'dra. For a mere second or two, his eyes softened ever so slightly. He took a step back from Per'dra to further ease the tension in the group.

"You asked me what you should do next? I would try to contact this...connection you speak of, rather than keep waiting to be contacted. A more open line might be beneficial to the group." Vakarr suggested. "Oh, and keep your dog in line. If it speaks up again, I will smash its skull in."

The threat towards Meara was necessary in his head. All he did was fix the mistakes he made minutes ago, he wasn't getting soft with this group. He couldn't possibly, this was temporary. He was still a powerful warrior and would not be threatened by a common barmaid.

Meara, her hackles raised, glared at Vakarr. "What in Sazhen' did you call me?"

"Meara, please." Per'dra laid a quick hand on the barmaid's forearm before either she or the warrior could carry out their threats against one another. "Hush!" Only out of respect for her friend, Meara fell silent and took her place at the rear of the group. However, she was still seething with resentment. One day, she thought venomously, I'm going to teach you a lesson, helmeted brute! Still, she kept her feelings to herself for the continued safety of all concerned. Per'dra had backed down from a fight. She could, too.

The Dark Elven archer to whom Vakarr had spoken did not. Staring through narrowed eyelids at the "helmeted brute" who had requested treatment for Per'dra, he turned, hocked and spat, letting the glob of mucus fall to the dying forest floor below. Hardly any sunlight ever penetrated the canopy of the Forest of Trepidation, and this could be seen clearly. So could his frown.

"Do you think to extort me into silence?" sneered the archer. "You shall not. By the by, are you a coward who only wears a helmet that opaque because you're too afraid to show your face?"[/I] A hint of a smirk played at the corner of his lips. "Nevertheless, if the Spy and our True daughter prove themselves to be correct, you're going to need all the help you can get against those who pursue you." He slid his hands into the trees, retrieving a long vine net. Lowering himself to the ground, he strode toward Per'dra.

"Foot." The archer said this without so much as a "greetings" or "hail", because such salutations were beneath him. Per'dra extended her wounded appendage, and the Dark Elf took two vials and a bandage from out of his ebony leather-tunic pocket. Removing her boot and unceremoniously tossing it aside, he sighed: "Dur'natha. I'm going to have to pierce the skin in order to stop the poison from spreading." Tipping another one of his arrows with green liquid from one of the vials he carried, he gently stabbed it into the wound. The pain was agonizing for a moment, but then quickly vanished.

"Th--thank you," Per'dra replied, suddenly feeling like her tongue was too big for her mouth. Was it only the pain, or had the venom not been counteracted quickly enough. "I thank you mightily as well, Vakarr. A question..." She trailed off. "Why did I not feel any immediate effects from the poison in the trap?"

"Dur'natha acts slowly," replied the archer, "as do its ingredients. Such things are sacred knowledge among our people, which you yourself will never be privy to receive. One thing I can tell you: you would have convulsed within three days without any treatment. Be grateful I have had enough compassion not to let you die, weak one." He straightened up and stared at Vakarr.

"As for you: I am skilled with the blade as well as the bow." Expressionless, he removed the gauntlet from his right hand and thrust it against the warrior's helmet. "I challenge you to a duel. If you win, not only shall I pay homage and bow the knee to you, but I'll convince Un'adrubin to let you all into our city. If not..." His white teeth glinted. "You shall kneel before me as the loser, and also as my slave. Are we agreed?" The archer fingered the hilts of his swords.

Emi watched as the whole scene took place in front of her. All the mistrust, all the judging, all the hatred and the pride of each race present.

"Why...?", she said almost in a whisper, her head bowed down as if she was looking at the ground. Her hood covered most of her hair and the right side of her face was completely covered by her long locks of bluish-black hair. She suddenly lifted her face to look at Vakarr, Per'dra and the present Dark Elf warriors.

"Why must you always seek to battle others over such trivialities?! Why can't we all live in peace and just respect the dignity of those around us?! Why keep drawing blood of those who aren't our enemies?!", she mostly screamed this, her eyes overflowing with tears, but not so much of sadness but most of all of rage; rage for being so helpless. She fell to her knees right after saying all of this, her hands on her face.

"No matter what I do I can't get rid of this... why can't I just fade... this world is horrible, all creatures are mean, evil, twisted things... is there no hope for peace in this world at all?", she said those words in the clearest voice that normally, anyone who had come into contact with her, would never suspect she had in her. She got up and placed herself in front of Vakarr to face the Dark Elf warrior.

"I made a promise to watch his back. I am going to keep that promise", she said firmly as there wasn't any indication that the Dark Elf would stand down. She didn't do this to upset Vakarr, nor to give any indication that he was weak in some way, but she had indeed promised to watch his back, and him hers and she would keep her vow. Even if Vakarr had only said those things to Emi to make her feel better, but to her, this was serious business.

Vakarr stared at Meara for a few seconds with his arms crossed. Had his helmet been off she would have seen a smirk on his face, for the armored warrior was amused at her response. He was mainly amused at how she feared him the first time he spoke to her and now she had an attitude towards him. He was also curious to this as well. Why had one death threat scared her, yet one accompanied with an insult didn't? Perhaps it was in his tone.

His amusement soon turned into anger as the Dark Elf spoke. He had the nerve to call him a coward? He had just attempted to shoot an unarmed Per'dra, but he was calling Vakarr a coward? Afraid to show his face? No, never...well maybe a little. It was more shame than anything at being half human. However as he spent more time amongst Dark Elves, he felt a growing disgust for him as well. Just as Meara had backed off of him, he did the same to the Dark Elf and let the comment slide.

His anger soon turned into genuine sadness as he heard Emi. He listened to her protest against the violence that had occurred and a desire for peace. He partially agreed with that, as he had come to like violence a little. He wanted peace though as well...just under his rule. His usual thoughts of power were pushed away as Emi continued her small speech. The next word only made him sadder, and soon he began to feel pity as well. She looked so helpless on her knees, he wanted to kneel down and comfort her. Comfort? Another being? Had the thought actually entered his head?

His sadness and slight confusion turned into something he hadn't felt in quite some time...genuine happiness. Not his usual happy over defeating someone, or doing something great. No, this was the type of happy he felt when he was little. When he had no clue of the world he lived on. Emi had not only remembered what he had told her at the bar, but was intending on sticking with it. In all his years of life, not once had anyone stood up for him. He didn't understand why he didn't feel insulted by this action. He knew he could fight this archer, yet she still spoke up. Surprisingly...it felt nice.

His armored hand slowly reached out to meet her shoulder. He placed it on the shoulder of the arm she gave him back at the bar, not the one she took away at first. Just as she remembered her promise, he remembered how she was hesitant about which arm to give him. He was curious as to why, but now wasn't the time for that. Besides, this was about respecting her as much as she was respecting him. Despite the gloves less than comforting touch, he did so as gently as he could.

"Emi, its just a duel...I'll be alright," Vakarr said in a soft tone that almost surprised him. "Thank you though," he added in.

Vakarr looked to the Dark Elf, glad he had requested this duel. Now they had a way into the city, as Vakarr was quite confident he could win this duel. His arrogance might be playing a role in this, but his brain was as well. Given his body shape, the elf saw him as the large swing sword until enemy dies type of fighter. Vakarr was a strategist though, and he wouldn't do something so stupid as that...or perhaps he would. Perhaps he would play the part, than catch his opponent off guard.

"I accept your challenge. I will enjoy this," Vakarr said.

"As will I," replied the Dark Elven archer. "I am not only the finest bowman under my lord Un'adrubin's command, but the finest bladesman as well. In our native language, the speech of the True, my name is Zherybukh, or 'victor'. I swear to you that it will be the last word on your lips before you call me 'Master'. Pavas'te!" This, roughly translated, meant "En garde, coward!" Zherybukh unsheathed both of his long swords, crafted of the finest lunite--moonshadow metal, in other words. He parried Vakarr's first blow expertly.

As for Per'dra? She stepped backward, clearing a path for the two fighters.

Tegan had to fight the urge to scoff at Una'druban's arrogance. If there was one thing she could thank the Shadow Academy for, it was the cosmopolitan attitude towards other races.

"We saw their work first hand in the human city of Paryer." She explained. "They destroyed it in a matter of minutes. It wouldn't take them much longer to do the same to Tener'ixal. Sure, you may have better defences than the humans, but your city is a lot smaller, and and when they get through, and they will get through, it will take them a lot less time to kill every man, woman, and child in the city. Help us, and we might be able to stop them before they get here."

Inside the High Palace of Tener'ixal, Interrogation Room

Un'adrubin smirked at Tegan's brief, urgent speech:

"My dear, dark daughter, I must inform you that even though you speak the truth about our sacred city and our numbers within, there is one final defense you've never seen. Our Forest of Trepidation is not just a collection of soulless rocks and trees, but a living and breathing Friend to us. When we call upon Her specifically, in the language of our ancestors, She will come to life and annihilate those who would dare to poach or destroy Her. The only reason why we haven't done so already, in regards to the band of pathetic misfits with whom you travel, is because we've sensed no overt threat to us thus far. However, that could change in a heartbeat. What say ye?"

"By all means, do whatever it takes to defend yourself against the Purge, but don't think you can win a war of attrition against them. She may be powerful, but no power is infinite." Tegan responded. "It may take the Purge time, but their numbers grow constantly, and with enough time, they will burn this Forest to the ground."

Vakarr stepped away from Emi, so that he and Zherybukh would have room. He was going to continue his plan of giving the dark elf a false sense of security. The elf saw him as a brute, he could see it in his eyes. Vakarr swung, and was parried almost instantly. Vakarr took a step back and let out a grunt, like a brute denied a one hit win. He grunted again and swung at the dark elf once more. He wanted to learn just how this elf fought, how he blocked, and how he dodged.

Up Above, in the High Palace of the City of Tener'ixal

The Lord of the Hunt blinked. "There is much wisdom in what you say," replied he. "Even our Mother, the Forest which surrounds us, must recover between thwarted invasions and great battles. Sometimes this takes decades, in fact, while we have been duly called to guard Her as She sleeps! If this Purge is as strong as you say, then we have ample reasons to let you acquit yourselves and aid our defense. However..." Un'adrubin frowned. "We Dark Elves have been blessed with the ability to know in a heartbeat if someone is being false to us. Daughter, I do not accuse you of fully lying, but you and the Spy are hiding something. You are indeed refugees, but your eyes...they contain a spark of hope that would be entirely absent in a situation like this. What else do the two of you know that we don't regarding the Purge?"

Down Below, on the Forest Floor

Zherybukh was a gadfly, floating like one of the denizens of the Forest in which he dwelt. Knowing that his opponent's armor was impenetrable, he focused instead on disarmament. If his foe's weapon was lost, he would win! Thus, his onslaughts continued, lightly but relentlessly, against Vakarr's blade. Round and round he danced, in the fluid steps of combat, until he pinned the mighty sword of his opponent between his own lunite blades. "Aha!"

Vakarr continued his act of the brute with blade. His swings seemed barbaric in nature as he clashed with Zherybukh's own. The elf seemed to be falling for the act so far, as he danced around keeping his distance. Then the Elf made a bold move and brought his swords down on his own.So the elf was trying to disarm him to win. Vakarr's smirk was hidden by his helmet as he brought his heavily armored foot right down on the elf's foot. Certain the elf would be distracted by the sudden pain, Vakarr threw a punch aimed right at Zherybukh's face.

With a sickening snap, Zherybukh's nose and upper lip bone shattered. Vakarr's punch had not only connected, but sent his opponent staggering back. The Dark Elven archer made not a sound. However, everyone could tell--including the watching Per'dra--that he was in immense pain. Despite this, he did not drop either of his lunite swords. Instead, he sheathed them both.

Exhausted, he collapsed on the ground in front of Vakarr. "You've won," he rasped as blood poured down his face. "No coward are you," Zherybukh continued, "and thus I yield! All of you in your adventuring party shall...venture into Tener'ixal, if that be the last thing I can ensure. Know ye not what my lord Un'adrubin does to those who dare fail him? He exposes their guts with one long slit down the torso and hangs them from the trees of our Forest to die. This takes days."

With his voice trembling, he begged: "Grant me a warrior's death if you would! Remove my head as soon as you all stand safely within the sacred canopy of our Mother." Uttering a short phrase in the Dark Elves' native tongue, he called for the rhubarb-colored nets to entwine everyone and hoist them onto the dark wooden platforms of Tener'ixal. His fellow archers had long since withdrawn into the branches, waiting for more targets--perhaps the Purge?

Once everyone had been disentangled from their leafy harnesses, Zherybukh knelt for a second time before Vakarr. "My lord is not here," he said quickly. "Slay me, before he decides to emerge from the High Palace and investigate!"

((OOC: Not my best, but whatever. I'm tired! :xp:))

Even before the duel was over, Tael was already gone. The bickering between them had caused Tael to simply walk away and clear his head. He wanted to comfort Emi - but he knew that he shouldn't. As the archers were too focused on watching the duel, Tael had disappeared unnoticed. He walked until he saw a lake - the blue waters reflecting the orange-yellow glow of the sun. He laid down, the grass cool and green. Never had he felt such peace and serenity in his life - and he simply wanted to remain here, untouched, undisturbed.

Still, he felt guilty with abandoning them. Well, he didn't abandon then per se. He was only one man. Would one man really make a difference? Traveling with a band of misfits who have tensions between one another? He never thought like this before - but he doesn't know if traveling with them is the best course of action to take.

What else do the two of you know that we don't regarding the Purge?

Akeirra traced a rough map of the continent in the air, knowing the Dark Elf's memory would be good enough to maintain it without a physical representation.

"The Network has been able to confirm they spread from this region," she said. "Their current front lines range along this line," she drew another, jagged line across the continent. "In some places, they advance more quickly than others. By Network estimates, Tener'ixal will be hit within a week."

She frowned thoughtfully. "I was on my way to meet with the Dwarves when I encountered this band of refugees. The Dwarves told the Network that they had a myth that, if proved true, could utterly destroy the Purge. I have been sent to deliver this information on the Purge to the Dwarves, and to see if I can verify the validity of their claims."

In the High Palace of Tener'ixal, War Room (Adjacent to Throne Room)

"It shall take more than myths to destroy this advancing army, even though I can discern you speak the truth," replied the Lord of the Hunt. "We must prepare our defenses--not only those of iron and steel, but those of our Mother! There are precautions we have to take immediately to prepare the Forest of Trepidation for this coming onslaught. As for you, Spy, and those with whom you travel..." Un'adrubin paused for a moment, calculating his options. "I will give you directions to the nearest tributary of the Auris River so all of you can be on your way. Almost all of you." Folding his hands in front of him on the dark wooden table of the War Room, Tener'ixal's Captain of the Guard was fully in his element. From a silver goblet, he took a sip of wine mixed with absinthe--the essence of wormwood:

"The Dwarves are isolationists; consequently, they are idiots! They seal themselves off from the rest of Sazhen', slaves to their own insane logic. Even we are more tolerant of others, although not by much. You are all fortunate that I did not order my archers to slaughter the lot of you! Nevertheless, we find ourselves in a nearly-untenable position. As it is, we have barely heard of this 'Purge', and so..." Un'adrubin's eyes gleamed with the cold fire of the stars in winter. "In exchange for instructions on the correct course to the Auris, we shall require at least one of you to stay here and acquit yourself by aiding our defenses. I know in my soul that if Tener'ixal does not survive, neither will the Dark Elven race as a whole. What is your answer, Spy? I daresay you've given quite a bit of information thus far. Support it! Bring us your blades and your strategies. We'll need them."

This was as close to humility as the Lord of the Hunt was ever going to get.

For several moments, Akeirra did not speak. Then, she nodded. "The Network is not known for warriors, but strategies, we have. Unfortunately, I cannot be permitted to remain here, and I cannot think that this band of refugees would take kindly to one of their own remaining here while I'm allowed my freedom. If I may, I think there is a third alternative."

She pointed to a spot on her air-drawn map, no more than an hour's hard run from Tener'ixal. "The Network has someone here. If you would permit me to send a message to her, she can be here in just over an hour. Then, you will have the Network's best strategies for repelling the Purge and this group may continue on, with your direction to the Auris River."

In the High Palace of Tener'ixal, War Room

If there were two things Un'adrubin despised, they were being thwarted in having his way and having to admit that someone False--someone not Dark Elven--had made a salient point. However, he masked his emotions carefully, as he always did. A natural consequence of the Dark Elves' being able to tell innately if someone was lying was that they were far better than most races at hiding what they themselves thought. The Lord of the Hunt answered:

"Agreed. I will not risk our people, or our Forest, to inadequate preparation when the Purge reaches Tener'ixal. Send your contact to me immediately." He slid a roll of parchment toward Akeirra and Tegan. "To the Auris..." For a warrior, and Tener'ixal's Captain of the Guard, he was a remarkably good artist. His depiction of the route to the tributary that led to the Auris River was as accurate as if the finest cartographers in Paryer had drawn it. Un'adrubin explained the landmarks and convoluted forest trails carefully.

Suddenly, the High Palace itself began to tremble. Was it an earthquake?

Un'adrubin didn't think so. "Our Mother stirs," he said slowly.

Vakarr was surprised by the amount of damage his punch had done. He was certain he hadn't used that much force, and it was with his left hand too...or maybe he had. He soon found himself smirking slightly at the victory he got over the dark elf. That would teach him to dare ever underestimate him. Before he could reply he found himself in their city.

He looked to the dark elf, who was begging for death at this point. He stared at the elf for a few seconds. Part of him didn't want to after he called him a coward. Still...he did cause that very painful wound. Perhaps letting him die with honor wasn't too bad. He slowly took out his sword and prepared to do the deed. He hoped Emi wasn't watching as he swung his sword down, taking the elf's head clean off. He looked around when he felt a sudden shake. He looked to Per'dra.

"You wouldn't happen to be thinking the same thing as me...would you?" Vakarr asked believing the Purge might have gotten to them sooner.

Akeirra closed her eyes and exhaled slowly until she could breathe out no more. Then, motionless, she listened. With her eyes closed, she stopped all other senses but hearing and therefore heard much further. Her brow furrowed as a familiar sound came to her ears. Her eyes snapped open and she inhaled sharply.

"She stirs with good reason," she said. "The Purge has not yet reached her, but they are within sight."

She looked up at the guard captain. "Is there a horse I might ride? Sending a message to my contact will not bring her hear fast enough. I must go for her myself and bring her back immediately."

To Tegan, she added, "You and your friends must take this map to the Auris River and leave immediately. I will catch up with you once my promise of aid to the Dark Elves is fulfilled."