An Unfriendly Mood (Emma)

[Angmor]

Sierthra roared her frustration to the sky, trying yet again to circle around to help her Rider. But it was no use, the archer down below had read her intent, and were succeeding in keeping it from her. And that was before the giant sideways stick-thrower on the walls came into the game. She jinked and weaved madly to avoid the incoming missiles, varying up her positions with quick bursts of speed and sudden slowing, sparing a glance to the battle at the gates below whenever she could. She could see the small shapes of a group of people, struggling and pushing against a larger group who were easily recognized by their red armor. She could not see Kyemen anywhere.

Then suddenly, everything was still on the ground was still. There was no more fighting. After a moment, she realized that the mages must have finally done what they had threatened. They leeched the life right out of their victims heart of hearts like they were expendable assets, not people like themselves. She had seen it before, and she thought it the worst possible thing any magic user could do with their power. She felt a great hot anger rising up in her throat in the form of a fierce growl. She swore, one day soon, those sorcerers would pay.
And then she remembered that her Rider had been down there somewhere, and her stomach felt cold.
Kyemen! Kyemen, where are you?

[/Color]
A pause.
Nothing.
Kyemen, tell me you are alive.[/Color] Even as she said it, she could feel that he was. Then why couldn't she see him?
The question was put off with the arrival of another ballista-stick. She just barely managed to avoid having it tear through her wing, but only by having it bounce off the scales of her side. The pain instantly brought her back to logic. Right now, she had to get out of the sky in full sight of the king's army and find somewhere for Kyemen to meet up with her if he was able. If he wasn't, well... She would have to come up with a new-
I'm here Sierthra, I'm all right. Don't do anything foolish.[/Color]

The relief that coursed through her was almost as good as the feeling she had when she had torched an imperial general's tent on one of their scouting missions.
Don't scare me like that again! Where are you?[/Color]
Braving a fresh flight of arrows that fell pathetically in her wake, she still could not see him anywhere among the carnage of the slaughter below. However, she could see what looked like blue tongues of crackling lightning licking at the timbers of the great-doors, as if a small storm had descended to the level of the earth to bless the city.
I ran into the crowd and used that spell Oromis taught me to make myself invisible. I... I couldn't stop them. Those mages... They killed them all because of me.
They were going to die anyway. Except this way they died doing some good, they helped you to escape. In a war like this, that's the best most of us can ask for. What are they doing to the gates?
Stopping spells most likely. Warding it against breakage. They're using those children's energy like they were nothing.[/Color]

Sierthra finally understood that Kyemen had been well and truly shaken by this. It was a wonder he had gotten the difficult spell to work with such a scattered concentration. Deciding she had seen enough, she put on an extra burst of speed and climbed higher into the rain-lashed sky, far above any more hope of shooting at her again.
Kyemen, snap out of it.[/Color] She scolded, but not unkindly. Save your remorse for when it's useful. For the meantime, we have to get out of here. Where should we meet up?[/Color]
Had he not been bending light around his body by enchantment, she was sure she could see him make the transition between mourning for the cruel fate of the prisoners to the blank face of a survivor.
Right.[/Color] A deep breath, a pause for contemplation. It's too dangerous for you to land on the plains, and I couldn't get out of either gate, I'm sure the north one will be sealed in minutes... Come to the northeastern part of the city. After this little skirmish, it will be hours before people are allowed back to their homes.[/Color]
Nodding her head to the clouds, Sierthra wheeled around and turned groundward.

Kyemen was right, they city was oddly, almost eerily empty. Everywhere there were signs of hurried departure; a child's dropped doll, an open door through which kettles could be seen boiling over into the hearth, a half finished fortification. Sierthra thought that it was almost like every person within the walls were suddenly struck off the face of the earth by some ancient power, leaving no trace behind. Even as she thought it, the sun must have sank beneath the shrouded horizon, taking away even the gray, watery light of a rainstorm and plunging the streets into shadow. She shivered.
At last, she set down in a wide alleyway, claws clacking against the wet paving. Her dripping wings were almost numb with cold, and she tucked them tightly to her sides to warm them. She sent Kyemen a picture of her location and settled down to wait, hoping he wouldn't be long.

She must have dozed off. She had been flying almost the whole day, and absorbing Kyemen's pain from the poison had taken its toll. That was the only explanation she had for why she did not see the assassin coming. She noticed him at about the same time he did her, raising her head from where she had found convenient shelter under a shop awning. He stopped suddenly and she felt her body tense, the predator's instinct to leap out at her prey. The assassin must have recognized the movement from smaller predators than she, because he did a swift about-face and pelted back the way he had come. Roaring the start of a hunt, she leapt up and went after him.

It proved easier said than done. While never much of a runner in the first place, Sierthra found that her claws provided little traction on the stupid flat-walk-stones that humans insisted on spreading on their streets. Not to mention her target was an elf, and a well-motivated one at that.
She tried to follow him around a sharp corner onto another street and skidded into the front of a house, shattering much of the front stoop with her flailing tail. Growling, she scrambled up and resumed her hunt, vowing to practice her agility on the ground as well as the air.
She was just in time to see him duck into another house and shut the door, locking her out. She roared loudly in frustration; it was so similar to what had happened when she had chased the captured Icitalia Sylaer into the castle weeks before, it wasn't even funny. Lunging forward, she struck the door from its hinges in one swipe, shoving her head through the hole it left. She could see the man, scrambling back away from her wrath. She was unable to get any of her body inside, and she was about to burn his flesh from his bones when she stopped for a moment, considering, piercing him with her keen emerald gaze. She now had Kyemen's would-be killer trapped in here. This was the only exit as far as she could see, besides the windows, and it would be easy enough to torch anyone who came out of those. In that case, Kyemen would probably want the man alive, perhaps to take with him and talk at length. Let the man sweat it out until Kyemen decided, it would make it all the more sweet if he decided not to spare the man.
"Umm, nice dragon." The man stammered randomly, scrabbling to his feet and rushing for the stairs.
Hardly, my friend.[/Color] She thought after him, chuckling in her throat. For you, hardly.[/Color]

At that moment, something totally unexpected happened. The second person that had called all this, the female, came gliding out of one of the side rooms, a large bundle cradled in one arm. Sierthra immediately prepared for an attack as the woman raised her hand, and spoke.
"I have a child, please let me pass." Sierthra blinked. What? As she wondered at this, she realized that the woman was trying to touch her mind, sending soothing thoughts. She grunted in amusement. At the moment, this elf might aas well have been singing a lullaby to an earthquake. If she was going to be calmed down, it would not be by one of the two people that had caused Kyemen such pain and aggravation today.
I'm here Sierthra. What's going on?
Oh good.[/Color]
She sensed that he was right outside the door, a sense of bewilderment clouding his thoughts.
You'll never guess who I've caught...[/Color]

. . .

It was a strange thing, not being able to see one's own limbs. Kyemen gratefully let go of the spell that hid him from all eyes, rather hoping he would never have to use it again. It was a long, slippery sort of spell, the kind of thing that would have been totally beyond his depth before Sierthra came along. It bent the light from any source around his body, making it so that no living eye could see him. Of course, the rain still fell on him, but no one had had the presence of mind to question the droplets spattering on the three seemingly sourceless surfaces that were his shoulders and the top of his head. But it had gotten him out of the situation at the gate, and that was the important part. Now he had an even stranger situation to deal with, and there wasn't any possible spell that he knew of for taking care of it.

He drew in a breath, preparing himself for the plan that was forming in his mind.
Are you sure you want to do this? I think it would be better if we just go.
You're probably right. But after all that's happened, I need some answers. I need to know why.[/Color]
He drew his sword for the second time that day, positioning himself to one side of the door.
I'm ready. Let her out.[/Color]
With a rasp of scales on stone, Sierthra extracted he head and neck from the opening in seeming acquiescence to the elf's request. From the shadowed recess he had chosen, Kyemen watched her advance through the doorway into the street, eying Sierthra warily. As a result, she did not see or notice Kyemen until he had moved up quietly behind her and put the edge of his sword against her throat.

Like any good fighter, her hand flew to the hilt of the sword at her hip, and it was two inches out of its sheath before Kyemen pressed meaningfully, letting her feel the coldness of the wine red steel against her neck.
"Please don't." He said quietly. "At this angle, the slightest movement will slash your jugular vein, and I think we'd both rather not have the child see that on top of everything else that's happened today. I just need a few answers before I go, and if your answers are satisfactory, you will have nothing to fear from me. Vel einradhin iet ai Shur'tugal." On my word as a Rider. Kyemen did not make it a habit to bandy around promises in the Ancient Language, more binding then life itself, but the wording of this one made it rather loose as such things went, but it was as good as this woman was going to get. He was perfectly serious about killing her if she tried anything stupid, but if she had had nothing to do with the attack on him that afternoon, then she had nothing to fear.

For her part, she considered it for several moments, looking down at the child clinging to her. Then she nodded fractionally in agreement, mindful of the sharp object at her throat.
"Good." Kyemen said, moving the sword from her neck to placing it lightly on her right shoulder. "Please turn around slowly, and go back inside. I also need to talk with the man upstairs."

It was strange, that this whole confrontation was taking place in someone else's home, invading the space some family or families who probably thought of this place as the only safe haven they had. But Kyemen knew that in a matter of weeks, this whole town would suddenly become a battleground, so it didn't bother him too much that it was happening early.
Soon they were in the hallway at the top of the stairs, a paneled passage with doors leading off on either side. Scanning with his mind, it was easy enough to locate the assassin without even having to search.
Wordlessly, he brushed past his loose captive, treading silently on the wooden floor, randomly aware that he was leaving a trail of wet footprints and droplets as he went. He was unsure just how the man would react to his presence, whether he would continue trying to kill him or simply break down into begging him not to turn him into something unnatural, or something in between. Either way, he decided to play it safe. Raising his sword, he kicked the door open and rushed into the room without warning.
The man was crouching on the floor in the relative darkness, completely unprepared. He tried to spring to his feet, but Kyemen quickly used a spell that bound the man's feet together like a child's prank of cross-tying a pair of boots, with much the same affect. He fell forward onto his face, cursing fluently at the floor. Kyemen was on hims instantly, putting a knee against the small of the assassin's back and the tip of his sword at the base of the skull, his free hand searching for weapons.

"Never thought you'd see me again, did you?" He said as threateningly as he could muster, pulling the stiletto from the man's belt sheath and tossing it to the other side of the room. "I must admit, you probably would have succeeded in killing me, if it wasn't for the Empire, and I never thought I would say that."
Satisfied that the man was unarmed, he released the binding spell and stood back, sword in a relaxed grip in front of him. "Please come in now, ma'am" he called over his shoulder, stepping aside to allow the woman entrance.
She came in cautiously but unafraid, taking up stance on the opposite side of the room from the assassin.
Now, where to begin?

"I should let you know, I suppose, that if either of you try to run, Sierthra is still outside, and she loves to chase things, especially things that make her angry." As he was speaking, Kyemen's free hand found the mantle of a small fireplace behind him. He spared a glance at it, and was gratified to see a small pile of logs in the grate. "Brisingr," He muttered, setting the fuel immediately to flame. The heat felt good against his back, soothing the coldness of his sodden clothes against his skin.
"You have both made her angry." He continued. "You by following me, and trying to break into my mind. You by trying to kill me. Since your offense was greater, we'll start with you." He pointed to the male elf with the tip of his sword. "You had better have a story for me, and it had better be good."[/size][/blockquote]

[Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress]

There was nothing in the room that really allowed a safe, speedy escape. There was a fireplace, a big double bed, drawers, a mirror, two carpets, and a large window. Besides attempting to strangle the dragon with the carpets and jumping out the window, I was drawing a blank as to how to escape. Maybe she’d leave me alone if I squatted in here long enough, but if she was getting her Rider, it probably wouldn’t be long until he came barraging into the house. Worst of all, I was spending more time worrying about what to do than actually doing anything, which I only realized when my trained ears picked up the soft clunk of boots on stairs.

I looked around wildly for the hundredth time, but my situation hadn’t changed. I must have been squatting there for ten minutes trying to figure out what to do. By the time I glanced up at the doorway, I saw the Rider appear. The moment his gaze was fixed on me, I didn’t even have time to move. As opposed to humans, whose speed was just as sluggish as their brains were, elves could move in a fraction of a second. I had taken that speed for granted nearly my whole life, considering I was always pitted against said slow, stupid humans, but now I had to admit that I wasn’t quite as fast as most elves were supposed to be.

And I damned myself for it.

Kyemen said something in the ancient language so quickly that I didn’t catch it, but whatever it was, it stuck my legs together like glue just before he suddenly sprang onto me, knocking me forwards and quickly introducing my face to the hard wooden floor. The prompt stream of expletives that issued from my mouth were muffled by said floor shortly before I felt something stick into the small of my back and then something sharp and icy cold against the base of my skull. I quickly decided not to make any movement that might accidentally cause my head to be severed from my neck.

“Never thought you'd see me again, did you?” he hissed, and I felt his hands quickly pat their way down my back, looking for any stilettos and knives I had hidden in the folds of my cloak and then tossing them across the floor. His voice held a certain degree of sardonicism in it, but I could hear the shakiness as well. I smirked at the floor and said nothing. To be honest, that was exactly what I’d thought. The Enclave made few direct dealings with the Empire and even less with the Varden. Needless to say, I didn’t see too many Riders. “I must admit, you probably would have succeeded in killing me, if it wasn't for the Empire, and I never thought I would say that.”

By the time he had yanked every sharp object and piece of lint out of my cloak, an impressive collection of both things was strewn across the floor. I was surprised, though, when instead of starting to beat on me for answers, he glanced towards the door and called to some woman. My surprise was quickly deflated, though, when I saw the same elf woman who had been following me around stride into the room, head held high and some kid in her arms. Somehow I’d doubted she’d suffered the same fate as the disloyal citizens of Feinster. She strode to the opposite side of the room and then just stood there, silently staring at me and the Rider. The binding spell on my legs was released, and Kyemen moved away, but his sword was still pointed right at me. It was clear that he thought I was the bigger threat.

“I should let you know, I suppose, that if either of you try to run, Sierthra is still outside, and she loves to chase things, especially things that make her angry.” I hefted myself up on my hands, rubbing my ankles where they had been bound. When I looked up, Kyemen had backed up against the fireplace, which had now been lit. It cast a cheery, welcoming glow in the dim room, and I shuddered as the warmth flickered at my soaked and freezing clothes. “You have both made her angry. You by following me, and trying to break into my mind. You by trying to kill me. Since your offence was greater, we'll start with you.” He pointed at me with his oversized kitchen knife, his eyes hard. “You had better have a story for me, and it had better be good.”

I shifted on my feet. I didn’t exactly have the time to think up a fake story that might somehow make sense of my maniacal tracking of the Rider, and at the same time, the real story was so ridiculous that the Rider would probably think it was fake and laugh in my face. And then kill me. I’d most definitely end up dead if I didn’t say something, though. Sighing inwardly, I swallowed my pride and started talking.

“Okay, so look, there’s this girl, see? Pretty elf goil, like the lady over there.” I jerked my chin in the elf woman’s direction and leaned against the wall, taking up a more comfortable position. “Used to work for me, but she got tired, I guess, ‘cause she went over to the Empire. Now, I couldn’t just let that happen, y’know, so I went lookin’ for ‘er and you, uh…” Here, I got nervous. I quickly brushed a stray lock of black hair out of my face before continuing. “And you… you kinda look like her, you goddam elves and how goddam GOILY you look.” I turned my head, glaring at Kyemen, but his expression was currently unreadable, so I went on. “Same cloak, same hair, yada yada, which is why I was followin’ you like a goddam psychopath. On top of that, the bitch stabbed me, see?” I poked at the bloody rip in my cloak where Eisolae had knifed me. “Which is why I was so intent on killin’ ya. Honest mistake, see? I’d offer ya the antidote, but it doesn’t seem to be botherin’ ya anymore.” I moved away slightly when Kyemen’s left eye twitched, not wanting to get in the way of the sword. “An’ that’s my story. An’ before you ask…” here I glanced at the elf woman, still watching us from the opposite side of the room. “If you tink I was workin’ with her, you can fuhgeddaboudit. I ain’t never seen her before, an’ she was followin’ me too.” The glance turned into a glare, and then I looked back at Kyemen. “So there you are. I just wanna go home now, man.”

Words;; 1132
Muse;; I have NO idea. o.0 I was trying so hard to beat it that I wasn't paying attention to it.
Thoughts;; It's alright... although I kept spitting out my coke laughing at Kieran's mafioso talk. Hopefully Kyemen won't choke on his fish laughing. XDDDDDD[/size]

[renea]

Tasalae watched the Dragon, heard her chuckle as the man said 'nice dragon.' It was a rather funny thing to think about, though, she just stood there with the child in her arm, holding her with ease as the child looked at the rather large dragon. She looked down at the child, she had yet to tell her name, but Tasalae would find that out later tonight, if they lived long enough to have that conversation. As the dragon looked at her, she quickly saw they were not going to get near the door, nor would they get out any time soon, but she did not mind, it would give her a chance to search the child mind and why her and her family were sentenced to death. She searched the child with ease, making sure not to hurt her as she did so, even though, the child did hid her eyes in the cloak from the slight headache she would get, she still searched. She needed this information so she could at least try and help as much as she could. She needed to get her to Surda, where she could have a family, or to the Elf Kingdom, where she could raise her, one or the other, she did not care nor know.

Then the dragon moved and she saw her exit. She moved to the door and began to walk out, hoping to find some form of escape, but it was not long before she felt the cold metal sting into her throat and hold her there. Tasalae grabbed at her sword, but she did not remove it, she just stood there and listened to the man before she nodded and turned with him back to the house. The child looked at the man's back and then back at Tasalae. She was so young, she did not need to have this in her mind, but she would... For the rest of her life.

"Child, I want you to be quiet when I am speaking to this man, is that understood," She nodded as Tasalae spoke and just held onto her cloak like a baby. Tasalae had no problem holding this child, she had become use to the feeling quickly and now waited outside the door that the Rider had gone into. She waited, wanted to come in, but she knew better, she just needed to sit here and wait. The child looked at the door and then they were called to enter, which was good, since Tasalae did not like standing in one place for very long. She knew her story, how she saw two people running, one had a smile on her face and the other was looking, the other being the rider. She saw the knife that was held in the woman's hands as she ran and then saw how the other male elf ran and tried to kill him.

She entered and heard his story, it was a rather stupid story and she had to roll her eyes a little as she held the child. Finally set her down near the fireplace to allow her to get warm and stood beside the child, taking off her cloak and laying it over her shoulder. Her cloak had been set by a spell to keep the inside dry for her comfort and easy travel. She looked at the man, knowing her story would be next and she waited, listening as the other told the rider that she nor him knew each other, then it was silent and she had a feeling it was her turn.

"You want to know my story, Great Rider, well I will tell it how I saw it," She stood, looking at the rider for a moment and waited to make sure he was ready. "I came here early today, intending to find some extra supplies for the journey back to Du Weldenvarden... As I came into the city, I saw the man," She nodded to the male elf that had been aimed at killing someone,"Come from the building and a woman running, however, he turned to you. I was too late to try and stop the knife and watched as you did. I pulled the knife to me," She pulled out the knife which had been aimed at the Rider and threw it on the ground away from the other elf and away from herself. "I went on the chase, knowing that the other female elf had been running with a knife in her own hand and a smile on her face... I noticed he was bleeding and running after you so I ran after both of you, trying to get into your own mind to tell you, since I was too far away to tell you by voice... It was by that point that I did get your attention and you were hit with the dart and ran into the crowd. He still thought you were a woman and I had no choice but to go into the crowd, where we were separated and sentenced to certain death... At that point I grabbed the child, she was possible the youngest and closest to me... I placed a spell on the child to protect her and then ran to get away from the empire's mage... I came in this building hoping to try and talk to the child before we left tonight, when he came in and then a large dragon head." She found it funny that the dragon had trapped them, but she was not all surprised that she had to allow him to come into the home.

The child looked up at Tasalae and pulled the cloak tighter around her shoulder and turned to watch everything. She did not see anything scary going on right now, so she watched, sitting as close to Tasalae as she could.

[Angmor]

Kyemen had once read a book in which the writer had said that some stories were too strange to be believed, but not too strange to have happened.
The phrase had stuck in mind for some reason. He had never truly known what it meant until today.

At face value, the story was silly, ludicrous even. And yet, on his foray into Kieran's mind, he had definitely gotten the impression that he had been chasing someone female. That at least meshed with what he had been saying. And as for the woman... Well, he had sometimes gotten himself into strange situations by sticking his nose in where it didn't belong. grudgingly, he admitted that he would have done the exact same thing.
"Well," He said finally, breaking the tension that had been steadily mounting. "Incredibly, I find myself believing you."
Kieran's sigh of relief was audible.
Kyemen turned on him, affecting a stern glare.
"Don't think that this gets you off free. You still did your very damnedest to kill me, that is not something I can go unpunished. So, the question still stands, what am I going to do with you?"
The first and most obvious option of course, was to kill him. Simplest, least amount of paperwork. After all, This man had thrown knives at him, kicked him, pierced him with darts, and poisoned him. Even the delicate sensibilities of the Varden would not be offended by him killing someone that had given him as bad a day as this man had. And yet… He’d been inside this man’s head. He had experienced his thoughts, studied them, touched them. Certainly, there was darkness and greed in this man’s soul, but there was also someone in there that he managed to love, and who loved him in return. But was that worth it? Why did he get the feeling that he would still be doing harm to the rest of the world if he let him go in peace?

Just then his thoughts were upended from a sudden surge of surprise from Sierthra, punctuated by a green flash of light through the window that he immediately recognized as her fire.
Sierthra! What the-
Soldiers! I have no idea how I didn’t see them coming…

[/Color]
Another blast of fire lit the night.
How many?
Lots.
Of course.[/Color]
“We’ll finish this discussion somewhere else.” Kyemen said finally. “First we have to…” He never finished. For the second time that day, there was an odd, buzzing pressure in his head, someone trying to break through his mental defenses. As he struggled to hold it back, in became clear that his attacker was far stronger than an average human.
The sorcerers had arrived.[/size][/blockquote]

[Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress]

Un-freaking-believable. He actually seemed to believe me.

At least, that’s what it seemed like. The dopey open-mouth gawk only showed that my story was just as ridiculous-sounding to him as it had sounded to me when the words were coming out of my mouth. It was actually rather amusing, seeing an elf with such a massive expression across his face. It was a much better reaction than the death glares I got from most of them. The elf chick was rolling her eyes, while the kid in her arms gave me a blank stare. My story was followed by a very awkward silence, during which I nervously shifted from foot to foot. Then the woman started telling her side of the story. Smelling my blood and Kyemen’s fear, she’d gone and poked her nose where it wasn’t supposed to be, and now she was mixed up with the two of us. Kyemen didn’t seem to hear her as she spoke, though, instead just continuing to stare at me as if I was very, very, very mentally disturbed. Even after she fell silent, he just stared.

After some time, he shut his trap. And then he opened it again.

“Well, incredibly I find myself believing you.” He was referring to me. I couldn’t help but let an explosion of pent-up breath issue out of my mouth. Immediately, his expression hardened, making him look more like his own race now. “Don't think that this gets you off free. You still did your very damnedest to kill me, that is not something I can let go unpunished. So, the question still stands, what am I going to do with you?”

I had to admit that he was right. In his position, I probably wouldn’t even have given myself the chance to speak. I’d have gone and started hacking immediately. It looked like my time was up, though. He was eyeing me, probably thinking about whether I would look better roasted by his dragon or slit into ribbons by his sword. Or maybe he was having a conversation with his dragon about how she preferred her meals. After all, I’d probably end up in her stomach. Elves had to be a rare delicacy for those stinking reptiles. And tasty. Probably very sweet because of all the magic in our veins. Luckily for me, I severely lacked in magic, so maybe she’d find me a bit bland. Somehow, ranting in my mind managed to calm me down a bit. I would have backed away, but the wall was already right behind me. Plus, the elf woman seemed completely entranced by the Rider, so she’d likely chop me into sushi if I tried anything. I glanced at the girl in her arms, and starkly realized something.

Iffy. I swallowed. The girl in the elf’s arms was remarkably similar. It wasn’t the age, it wasn’t the colouration, but it was the same glazed look of terror in her eyes, the confusion, the innocence. My Iffy had looked exactly like that the day I found her hiding under that bed. I couldn’t die. Who’d protect her from all the creeps in Dras-Leona? I could feel the terrified expression coming over my face, my eyes widening at the thought of her alone…

“L-look, man…” I began, but suddenly a blast of heat from the wall behind me made me stumble forwards, and I turned around just in time to see a green glow fading from the window. I didn’t know what it was. Tentatively, I approached the window. The shutters were wide open, so I hesitantly glanced outside.

Soldiers. In freaking platoons. All of them were gathered around the house, poking weapons at Sierthra with their right hands and holding torches in their left. She was doing her best to burn the lot of them- it was her fire, apparently, that was green. Interesting. But in the shadows of the next building, I could see three figures hunched along the wall, facing the building. The moment I saw them, I felt a strange buzzing in my mind. It was the same feeling I’d gotten when Kyemen had invaded my mind, harsh, unyielding, but there was a certain enjoyment in the pain that was being forced onto me. Clearly, the magicians had found us. I backed away from the window, falling to my knees, and tried to scream with my mouth. But before I could, the pressure suddenly lessened, and I could feel genderless, ghostly voices whispering in my head.

“Try the other one. This isn’t the Rider.”
“But he’s an elf.”
“His magic is even weaker than ours. Get the Rider first, and then the woman. The soldiers can deal with this one.” The pressure instantly lifted, and I immediately crashed onto my side, gasping for breath. I rolled over, glancing at Kyemen and the woman. Kyemen had completely stiffened, his lips pressed together and his eyes shut tight, as if he was fighting a massive internal war. The chick, as well, was completely rigid, gripping the girl tightly. Now was my chance. They were going to burn the place down, and I wasn’t sticking around while they did. I ran for it past the two frozen elves, down the stairs, and out the door. They had surrounded the back of the house, not the front, so I was able to quietly slip out the front with its destroyed door and then run for my life.

But before I had gone two steps, I stopped. Second thoughts lurked in the back of my mind, despite the screaming primal instinct to run like hell. But still, that hidden intelligent part, that elf bit that still loomed within me despite how hard I tried to suppress it, fought against my first nature. Kyemen was incapacitated. Three magicians were attacking him, and he would either be stabbed or burned. Either way, he was dead unless he got help. I was free. They didn’t see me as a threat because of my low magical ability, which, for once in my life, was an advantage. If I went back, if I managed to distract the magicians or get Kyemen out of there…

But no. He wanted me dead, why would I help him? But if I saved him, we would be even. He’d have no reason to kill me. It would be murder, and the Varden, if they were all they said they were, didn’t exactly praise that kind of thing. And if I didn’t help out and he managed to survive, he’d hunt me down like a dog for doing what I’d done to him, and maybe even go after Iffy if he found out about her. And he already might have, after rummaging through my brain like that. Still, my instincts said no. And I much preferred running away. But common sense refused to budge. I resisted the urge to slam my head against a brick wall. The obvious choice was to save him. I hated myself for it, but I had to do it. I despised playing the hero.

Reluctantly, I turned around. The base of the building was already being licked by orange flames, the wood tearing away to reveal the bare stone structure. The rain had picked a bad time to ease off. I forced myself to march back inside, wincing at the heat. I glanced around the inside- it wasn’t on fire yet, but it would be in about two seconds. I hurriedly ran up the stairs, horribly aware of how little time I had, and entered the master bedroom. The situation was unchanged, both elves still locked in their internal battles. The girl was crying in the woman’s grip. I immediately headed for Kyemen and grabbed him by the arms. He jerked instantly, and if he hadn’t been in such a battle I probably would have been killed instantly. But after a mere few seconds, he went limp again. Hoping he was aware enough to see what I was doing, I began to drag him across the room. He was surprisingly heavy for an elf, so my progress was slow. I pulled him out of the bedroom, and made the slow descent down the stairs, banging his body all the way down them. He didn’t react- his eyes were crossed from concentration, his eyebrows raised, his mouth ajar, and the expression probably would have been hilarious, and again, especially on an elf, but I was too scared out of my mind to pay any attention to it. I pulled him away from the house and out the scorched ruins of the front door, depositing him in the shadows beside the next building. Now for the magicians.

But the elf girl was still up there. I glanced back at the house, watching the fires begin to take hold of the inside, just waiting to eat her up. I really had no reason to save her. She’d been an annoyance all day. And one less elf in the world was always a good thing. But something still horribly bothered me about just leaving her to die like that. For several precious moments, I stood there, rocking on my feet and chomping on my lip until it bled.

Fuck me. She was hot. And besides, she had that little girl with her. She had no reason to die. Still, I couldn’t help but wonder if I was going soft in the head as well as in the body. I bolted into the house, nearly falling face-first onto the gathering flames. They were eating up the living room now, gobbling up the wooden chairs and tables like a fat kid eating cake. I leaned forward and blew as hard as I could on a patch of fire near the stairs. They wavered, but kept going. Well, it didn’t work for the Big Bad Wolf either. I dodged the flames and ran up again, praying that they would still be there when I came back, and headed to the master bedroom for the third time. The elf was still locked in concentration, the girl still bawling, although by now she had slid to the floor. I grabbed the chick by the arms just like I had with Kyemen, and, like him, she jerked at the contact, even giving me a brief cold stare, but I ignored it. Thankfully, she was very light, so I was able to lift her into my arms.

“Oy!” I barked at the little girl. She stared up at me with big, bulging teary eyes. “Can you walk?”
It took her a painfully lengthy moment to wipe the tears from her eyes and give a huge nod. Stumbling to her feet, she followed me to the landing of the stairs.

Unfortunately, by now, the bottom was gone. Luckily, it had collapsed about halfway so the fire wasn’t spreading upstairs yet, but that still left a long way for me to go. I groaned, and, trying to trust my advanced elven bone structure, I decided to jump. I didn’t think. I just did. I landed on my ass, probably breaking it, if that was possible, onto a pile of boards that used to be the still-whole part of the stairs.

I was about to yell for the kid to jump down as well, but she got the idea all by herself and managed to make a perfect landing on my head. I fell sideways onto the boards, the elf sliding down beside me. All I could think was, Smart kid. Still, it would have been nice of her to choose a less sensitive target next time. I would have probably lain there a bit longer, but the heat of the flames and the kid pulling at my arm and screaming, “MISTER SCARY MAN! MISTER SCARY MAN, WE HAVE TO GO!” reminded me that I was still at death’s door. My head still reeling, I managed to scramble to my feet. Wavering, trying to get a clear picture of things, I picked up the elf chick in a standard newlywed-bride way and bumbled out the door with the girl making nervous circles around me. Once outside, and feeling the cool air on my face, I let the elf slide to the ground and promptly fell flat on my face. Stage one of my idiotic plan had gone as terribly as I had predicted. Now I just needed to rest, get my head straight, and go knock out those magicians.

I lay there for several minutes, my nose pressed against the cobblestone road, smelling ungodly filth and not caring. The longer I lay there, the less I felt like getting up. But after some time, I raised my head to glance at the three boneheads I’d just rescued. The girl was clinging to the elf chick like she was her mother, and both elves were still locked in their mental battles, although both of them looked exhausted now. Not much time. I heaved myself up, thankful that I could see straight again, and lumbered off around the side of the building. I stepped carefully around it, all along towards the back, and peered around a corner. Sierthra was still locked in an intense battle. For every soldier she burned or thwacked with her tail, another took his place. They were still gathered around the building, probably waiting for the people they believed to be inside to jump out when the flames reached them. The magicians still lurked in the shadows, their faces crinkled with concentration. What could I do? I had no weapons, Kyemen had taken them all, and if I just ran in there the soldiers would gut me. I glanced around for inspiration, at the walls, at the sky, at the road. Hmm, the road.

I threw rocks. Simple, but effective. Having good aim, most of my stones rained down on the magicians, bonking against a forehead here, smacking into an eye there. Within moments, they lost their concentration and turned on me. I hid behind the wall, but they could tell where I was easily enough from the direction of the flying rocks.

“Idiots, it’s the elf, he got out! Get him! G-” The voice broke off, and I could only hope that it was because Kyemen and the elf girl were attacking their minds now. Hearing the rhythmic clank of armour as several soldiers went after me, I turned and began to run in a random direction. If I survived this, I was going to murder the smart aleck who invented magic in the first place.

Words;; 2429... um. WTF. O.O
Muse;; Bad. My first real post in months and written at 2 in the morning, what can you expect? XD
Thoughts;; Yay for godmoding. =D[/size]

[renea]

Tasalae held the child in her arms, watching the man, a stupid man who thought he could just kill anyone and then at the Rider, she respect him more then most elves, he was a reason the Varden and the Elven Kingdom fought. The sound of men below and the dragon caught her off guard and she was about to stand when the child grabbed her, stopping her and making her look down at her. Then she felt pressure in her head, her vision left, she was fighting people in her mind and she just allowed everything around her to be gone. She could hear the magic humans, they were talking, trying to get everything from her as they could and she fought them off as best she could. She threw up walls left and right, feeling them fighting her.

"What is wrong woman? Can't take the pressure?" She growled mentally, she hated magicians more than anything in this world, unless you used it for good. She sent her own attack, but it did little, these men were doing everything they could to get into her mind, but she was protecting anything that would give them a reason to take her captive and try and get all the information out of her.

"Wrong, I can take anything you throw at me, you stupid Mortals!" She yelled at them, but she felt a lot of heat coming around her, she did not know what it was, she was too involved with her own battle, she could take on heat, she knew she could. She sent another stab at them with her own mind, but again, she felt nothing give away, she had to keep to the defense, to keep everything away from these... Things! She felt something, strong hands grab her and she opened her eyes, seeing the killer, the stupid elf who had attack a rider and she gave him a scolding look before she felt a stab at her mind and she closed her eyes shut tight. She could not help but think how cute the elf had been, maybe the thought would help her.

"A lover?" She growled at him mentally and sent another stab, maybe the confusion of her feelings would throw them, but it was not long before she felt more pain hit her. She was feeling week, tired, she needed to end this fight, she had to do something. The heat was bad now, she did not like the heat and it was throwing her off concentration, but was not long before she felt water under her, and she was cool again. She did not know what to do, but she was going to fight until it killed her.

After more minutes of pain, it went away, her body in a daze as she tired to figure out what had happened. She looked around, noticing she had been brought out of the house. She saw the rider, he seemed to be having the same confusion for a moment before she looked around, seeing the killer run around the building and then bolt off. She growled a little and then went on her own attack, moving through the men before she felt the mind of who she was looking for. She sent a wave of attacks, hitting the ones she wanted to.

"You made the wrong choice picking at a Elf you stupid mortals," She said to them mental before she sent even more waves of attack. She was going to make sure she hit them harder then they could hit he.

[Angmor]

Mental battles were rather slippery things. And Kyemen was never particularly good at them. He had always said that it was far better to engage with sword and dagger, where there was far less chance of both combatants killing each other with simultaneous spells. And in this case, fighting three different mages was like being surrounded while on the edge of a cliff. All of his senses were completely buried under the assault, although some part of his subconscious screamed that he needed to get out, needed to run, but he could not. If he tried, his mind would be overwhelmed.
The tandem method of attack was maddening. He assumed that they were also attacking at least one of the other elves, so one or two of the sorcerers would suddenly duck out of the battle, leaving him off balance. And just as soon as he could get his thoughts gathered enough to launch a counter against the remaining mage, one or both of the others would suddenly return , and it would begin again, wearing down what was left of his strength. After all he had been through that day, it wasn’t much. The battle could have gone on for hours, or for just seconds, and there was no way for him to tell. Slowly but surely, he was being beaten.

Just as he thought his strength could no longer hold out, the invading presences suddenly lessened, as if their will was distracted. Surging with hope, Kyemen immediately took advantage and burst out of his mental corner, driving through the mages' defenses with his blistering wrath. He figured the distraction would not last long, he decided to risk a counter and cast a spell.
"Slytha!" He heard himself shout, and immediately the attack ceased as the mages fell into a magic-induced nap.

Coming back to his own body was like waking up the base of a cliff, and not remembering how he had fallen off it. Between being beaten, kicked, dragged, poisoned, and having his mind assaulted, his body had finally decided to punish him for being not taking care of it. He was sore and aching from head to toe, and it felt like his brain was throbbing inside his skull with every heartbeat. The only thing that he ever wanted to do in his entire life was lay here on the rough cobblestones and sleep.
Buck up, Rider.

[/color] He told himself sternly. Time for sleep later. You've had worse days.[/color] It was true, he had. He just couldn't remember exactly when...
Wait a minute, cobblestones?

For the first time he opened his eyes, finding himself staring upward at the rain-drenched building faces of Feinster. When the attack had started, he had been inside one of those, if his memory was true. How did he get out here? Hoisting himself laboriously into a sitting position, he found that the house he was supposed to be inside was currently being consumed by flames. He found that the woman was lying in the street next to him, looking just as dazed and confused as he felt. The little girl was standing beside her, wide-eyed and shivering. "What happened?" Kyemen asked, to no one in particular. Mostly just to make sure that his voice still worked. It did, although it sounded choked and rasping to his own ears...
"The scary man," The girl said unexpectedly. "The scary man saved us." Kyemen blinked, trying to process that bit of information.
No, still didn't take. Where was Kieran anyway? Was he still in the house, amid the flames-
Flames.
Sierthra! Sierthra, where are you?[/Color]
he cast around with his mind, trying to find her, but his addled thoughts lent frustratingly little range.
Sierthra! You can't be dead, you can't be dead-
I'm not, don't make yourself pass out. Are you alright?
I've had worse. But I'm much better now.[/Color] He said ruefully, wincing. But I still can't find you. Where are you?
Still addled in the head, then. I'm on the other side of the house. I was holding off the soldiers here, but they just broke and retreated, taking their mages with them. You should have seen it Kyemen, that man saved you. I couldn't help, but he saved you. He dragged you and the woman out of the house, then he came around and started throwing rocks at the mages until they let you go.
Kyemen wasn't quite sure what to make of that. While he knew it was probably only motivated by redeeming himself from some of Kyemen's punishment, Kyemen couldn't help but be amazed and grateful for what Kieran had done. He would have to thank him, once he saw him. Where was he, anyway?
The soldiers went after him, so he ran off. I tried to help, but I couldn't get to him fast enough.[/Color] Right then, she emerged from around the burning house, the waving light of the flames making her brilliant scales take on a dusky hue. Kyemen at last found his connection with her again, and he felt himself flooded with her strength. He stood shakily, going to embrace the friend that he had thought he would never see again. For the first time, he noticed the blood on her claws and the tip of her tail.
Are you hurt?
No. But many soldiers are lying dead for trying. We should get out of here before those mages wake up and more come.[/Color] Kyemen considered. With the gate closed, really the only way out of the city would be over the wall on dragonback. He looked at the two females with concern, then looked back to Sierthra.
Can you carry four? Three, and the girl?
In clear weather, maybe. With my wings this wet, I wouldn't want to try it. But I only see three here, so I don't understand why you ask.
Very well. Then take two trips. Take the womanfolk outside the city, and I'll go find Kieran. You can come back for us.
I can, but I don't see why we should bother. We don't owe him anything.
He saved our lives...
Directly after trying to kill you. He's atoned, now let the Empire deal with him as they wish.
Look, we could stand her arguing all night, but can you please just do this for me? I promise, I will do nothing dangerous ever again.
Fine. I'll do it, just to gloat on counting how many times you break that promise.[/Color]
Smiling, Kyemen turned to the elven woman, who had by then gotten up and was looking at him inquiringly.
"Sierthra is going to take you both out of the city now. She'll take good care of you." The woman looked wary, but few could resist the excitement of having a chance to fly. The girl however, looked petrified. As Kyemen helped them both into Sierthra's saddle, her eyes went even wider than they were before, staring at Sierthra's ridged back. "Don't worry, young one." Kyemen said as soothingly as he could as he helped her up into the woman's arms. "If you get scared, don't close your eyes, just look up. The sky never looks so close than when you're up there." The girl did not look convinced, but was at least not bursting into hysterics. At last both she and the woman were secured.
They're ready Sierthra. Fly carefully.
I will. And I'll be back for you very soon, and you will come, whether you have found the man or not.
I will.[/Color]
With that, she unfurled her wings and leapt into the rainy sky, heading toward the edge of the city, leaving Kyemen alone. With a sigh, he turned away.
Now, to find that man...[/Color]


[/blockquote][/size]

[Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress]

It was strangely nostalgic, running from those guards. And not in a good way, either.

It only served to remind me of how my life was decades and centuries ago, lost on the streets of various cities, running away from every guard in the vicinity. Back then, I hadn’t been nearly as fit as I was now, thanks to the Enclave’s Spartan training regime, but I might as well have been. It had finally started to sink into even my advanced body that the knife wound had gone untreated for far too long. It didn’t help that I starkly realized that the entire reason I had come to Feinster was totally forgotten. Eisolae… hell, I’d be surprised if she was even in Alagaësia anymore. What with losing her earlier on, then following that demented Rider all over the city while being chased by an equally demented elf girl, then being chased by the demented Rider’s demented dragon, and now being attacked by Imperial soldiers, I certainly had no chance of finding her anymore. Had she been able to watch the goings-on, she would have laughed to death, probably. I really wish I’d have reconsidered my decision to not drag bodyguards along.

Especially bodyguards with magical abilities. I could feel a different kind of sleepiness coming over me, a desire to collapse, to just sleep all the pain away and not wake up. Not that the wound hurt- it had been reduced to a dull throbbing long before, but blood still dripped from it. I felt terribly weak, and I wasn’t sure how long I could go on running. Damn that Eisolae. Damn that Rider, his dragon, and that elf girl. I was probably giving up my life for theirs, and somehow, I had never pictured me dying from protecting a bunch of strangers. Maybe dying protecting Iffy, but not Vardeners. I didn’t even know the elf girl’s name. None of them knew mine. Life sucked. Angry male shouts from behind me only served to make me speed up my pace by only a little bit. Luckily, elves were inhumanly fast, but with my injury I was beginning to slow down. At least I wasn’t being harassed by more mental attacks. That meant that Kyemen and the elf girl had overpowered the magicians. But more would come, and if I didn’t get out of Feinster soon, like now, I was toast. And with all that I’d witnessed, they probably wouldn’t even kill me. They’d take me away for torturing, find out about Kyemen and Sierthra, about me, about my Iffy.

Normally, thinking about Iffy usually gave me a surge of strength, but now the last of my strength drained away. I couldn’t run. They’d find me and torture me. I had to hide. I didn’t have the strength to run anymore.

Glancing around, I tried to make some sense of where I’d gone. I had about half a minute before the soldiers caught up to me. I’d just run wherever my feet had taken me, only paying attention to my own exhaustion and pain, and I now had no clue where I was. I was in some residential district, from the shape of the buildings, but that was all I could tell. I looked for a hiding place. If the magicians were truly incapacitated, and the only people going after me were humans, they wouldn’t be able to sniff me out. So, I ducked into a tiny alleyway. The shouts were coming closer now. Hurriedly, I looked around the alleyway for anything useful. Crates of food and barrels of water, too obvious. Mud, dirty rags, and some dogs picking at garbage. I stared at the rags, and hated myself for it. Lord knew what kind of human filth it was full of, and if it was diseased or some crap. I shuddered. But the voices were closer now, and orders were being given to check the surrounding alleyways.

I really had no choice. And I probably smelled awful already.

I managed to truss myself up with the rags to cover nearly every part of my body by the time two Imperials stuck their noses into they alleyway. They only took two steps before coughing and grabbing at their noses.

“What is it?” a voice called from the main street.
“It’s the stink, Captain!” one of the men coughed. “Ain’t nothing here. Just some dogs and an old hag who smells like she’s been dead for three days.”
The commander outside growled in frustration. “Right, check the next one!”

I waited until a few minutes after they left, breathing through my mouth to avoid the stench. Then, as soon as I was sure that no one else was coming, I tore off the rags, jumped to my feet, and made for one of the water barrels. I shoved my head and neck into it as far as they would go, my breath bubbling around my face. After a few seconds, the cold was too much for me, so I lifted my head out again, coughing. Not quite as helpful as a proper bath, but at least it was something.

Suddenly, I felt gentle tendrils brushing the edge of my consciousness. Though it had only happened to me twice before, the feeling was horribly familiar, and I clamped down on the sides of my head, willing it to go away. But, surprisingly, no pain came. Just a touch, like a hand stroking my brain, if that feeling was possible, and then a genderless voice saying, Ah. There you are. It seemed to have a smirk in it.

Well, damn. The magicians had found me. The presence was gone just as quickly as it had appeared, leaving me scared out of my wits. I turned away from the barrel and began to run as fast as I could down the alleyway, which wasn’t too impressive considering how tired I was. Yet still, I somehow managed to have a bone-breaking crash with the demented Rider who came bolting into the alley from the other way. He opened his mouth right as he saw me, probably about to shout something, but I wasn’t able to stop and we managed to have a proper traffic accident. We were knocked simultaneously onto our backs, but quite unlike me, Kyemen managed to sit up almost immediately.

“Sorry for invading your mind again. It was the fastest way to find you.” He offered me a hand. Disoriented, I took it without question, and he managed to heave me onto my feet. I glanced around, but there was no sign of Sierthra, or of the elf woman and her Iffy-clone. I was too tired to ask about them, though.

“Now let’s get out of here.” Kyemen tugged at me, and I blindly followed him, hardly understanding what was going on. I was too tired, I just wanted to sleep… but before I gave in to the drudge of trying to walk once more, I managed to say something.
“Yous… yous Varden bastards… needa know my name. It’s Kieran.” I hiccupped. “Kieran Kolbjorn.”

Words;; 1181
Muse;; Sooooooo BAD!!!
Thoughts;; AAAAAAAAAAH I hate it. But it's SOMETHING.[/size]

[renea]

They had fought the stupid human Sagas... Two Elves against three humans were easy, she had taken on two before by herself, it had taken time, but she had done it before. She looked at the other elf, the rider, the greatest one of the three elves and of these people. The dragon followed shortly after the fight with those saga had ended and the young girl stayed tucked behind her own leg. The elf before her wished for her to ride his dragon and she just looked at the dragon before she nodded, feeling the young child tremble as she moved forward. She touched the dragon's strong body, the feeling of the power that ran through this being was amazing... Tasalae wished she could be a rider, but she had never had the luck to recieve such a beautiful egg. She could only imagine what the egg looked like that this dragon came from.

"You are a beautiful Dragon, Sierthra," She said as she mounted the dragon, helping the young child into her arms, holding her tightly, but only tightly enough to not hurt her. As the dragon took off into the air, she shielded the child from the wind until they leveled off a little. The child clutched her her arm, fear racing through her. Tasalae did not blame the child, she had lost her mother and her father, had seen terrible things during the time she was with her, but she was here with Tasalae and she was going to raise her right. She looked down at the child before she looked back up, the clouds were moving over head, the rain was hitting hard.

With a movement, she pulled her cloak around with one hand and shield the child once again from the rain, saying words in the ancient langauge that would dry the cloak and make sure it did not get wet. She felt the dragon's wings beating, her heart was racing as she watched the clouds race by.

"Sierthra? Where will we land?" Tasalae was worried that the child would get sick in the cold rain, even though the cloak was protecting her, she still did not want her getting sick. Human children were easily sickened and it took them longer to get well.

[Angmor]

Sierthra fumed silently, wishing that she was still back in the city pounding out her frustration on pathetic armored bodies rather than playing Kyemen’s personal ferry service. Just like him, to go running back into danger after he was safe. She had the feeling that she would probably wish that she had simply plucked him off the street and carried him away right then and there. But then, he would be moody for days. He let the strangest things bother him, that fool. He was stubborn, and careless, and ignorant of the morality of people, and…
“Sierthra, where will we land?” Came the elf woman’s voice over the sound of the wind and rain, providing a handily timed object for Sierthra to vent her spleen.
I’ll land where I damned well land.

[/Color] She growled back, resorting to human profanity. It was an indication of how angry she was.
It’s not my fault it’s raining, nor is it my fault that you have to be brought out of the city this way. Maybe if you’d minded your own business, you’d still be warm and dry, those people wouldn’t have died, and the most important person to me in the entire world wouldn’t be putting his life on the line again to try and save everyone else involved. Now just-[/Color] She cut herself off finally and went back to fuming silently. The woman, at least, seemed suitably shocked, not saying anything further. Good. Let her think about just what was going on here.

As they flew onward in silence, Sierthra’s wrath cooled slowly. It wasn’t really fair to the woman, she realized. She just wanted to protect the human hatchling, and didn’t really deserve a roasting. But still, she could not quite bring herself to apologize. That was one thing that she needed Kyemen for, those subtle social graces that seemed to come naturally to him. She swore that if she ever saw him again, she would never again berate him for trying to make friends out of enemies. She would just except it as something that he had to do. It wasn't as if she didn't have her own potentially suicidal tendencies herself... Finally, she spotted a suitable landing spot, a flat, sheltered spot in the lee of a large hill, a place where the child would at least not die of hypothermia. Kyemen would probably like her taking that consideration. She circled the hill once, lining herself up so that the stiff wind was blowing towards her. These kinds of landings were always tricky. Treacherous gusts could knock her off balance, or at the very worst flip her helplessly on her back if she was not careful. Glaedr had taught her a great deal about flying and landing in unpredictable conditions, and one of the first ones was that landing with her face to the wind greatly minimized the risk. Greatly minimizes, He had stressed, Sierthra able to hear his voice saying it even now. But not eliminated.

Much more cautiously than she normally would, she lowered herself toward the field, letting ravity carry her there while she used her wings and tail to control the angle of the descent.
Sierthra, where are you?[/Color] Came Kyemen's thought. It's about to get rather busy here.
I'm about to drop off the other two. I'll be back in about three minutes-[/Color]
At that moment, just as her claws were about to meet the earth, the wind switched direction without warning, suddenly blowing into her side instead of into her face. The wind caught her wing on that side and made it into a sail, blowing her over sideways. Before she could snare some purchase on the ground with her foreclaws, she found hersel pitching over sideways in the air.

In the adrenaline enhanced, coldly rational part of her brain, she knew exactly what was happening. She had trained for it a thousand times. But while Glaedr had never specifically, she knew that this kind of a mistake this close to the ground, basically the only thing to do was brace for impact and hope that it didn't hurt too badly. But now, what could she do? She had two beings on her back, ones that would almost definitely break if she was to come on top of them with her full weight. The elf might live, but the human hatchling, that one could be broken in half, or gored on one of her spikes... Acting on instinct, she did the one thing her training told her not to do; twist frantically aside, shielding the ones on her back as best she could.

As she bounced helplessly off the ground, she figured from the lack of squishing sensation that her gambit had work, and she had not come down on top of the elf and her adopted hatchling. However, quickly taking stock, she found that she had come down almost right on top of her left wing.
Oh...[/Color]
Knowing what was coming next, she braced herself, clenching her teeth hard...
The malicious wind snared her right wing again, lifting her and continuing the spin like a bit of parchment caught in a draft, at the same time rolling her left wing under her.
With a sound like a dry branch bent too far, one of her fragile wing bones snapped.
She roared in pain.

. . .

Kyemen ran through the rainwashed streets, casting out with his mind as he went. He was now beginning to realize, just as Sierthra had said, that this was a bad idea. For one thing, his body was clearly telling him that he needed to call it a day. His muscles ached, hunger gnawed at his stomach, and the slight remainder of the poison in his system served to make him just slightly dizzy and off balance. Not to mention the fact that he was again soaked to the skin and shivering, to the point where he was afraid he might be 'catching cold' as the humans put it. He didn't know exactly what it was, but he had heard many humans admonishing each other for staying out in the rain because they might catch it. But how could someone 'catch' a relative temperature? Some human things made no sense at all.
What made the job so much easier was that there were very few people still in this section of the city. He was simply able to leap from mind to mind, looking for the fairly familiar essence of the man's mind. The downside was that now he knew just how many soldiers were out here looking for them.
It was a lot.
Without the sorcerers covering their mental signatures, it was easy to avoid them by ducking into a doorway, or vaulting over a wall, but the ever increasing frequency of such events made it clear that he was running out of time.

Just as he was about to give up and look for a high point from which Sierthra could pick him up, his mind brushed over a presence that, instead of the grim determination coupled with mild annoyance of the soldiers, was colored with the sort of exasperated fear of someone who had done this sort of thing far too many times before. Kyemen smiled in victory.
Ah, there you are.[/Color]
The man was only one street over from him. There was also a squad of soldiers about to come around the corner of a street behind him. Skidding on the wet paving, he abruptly switched direction and ducked into an alley, flattening himself against the wall in the shadow of the building. He watched as a squad of six soldiers passed his hiding place, far more slowly than he would have liked. As soon as they were far enough down the street, Kyemen peeled away from the wall and sprinted down the alley as fast as he could, in case they come back. It was definitely time to find his killer-turned-rescuer, and get the hell out of Feinster.

As he rounded the corner onto the street, the very first thing he saw was the man he was looking for, running as if a shade was chasing him. Kyemen raised his hand to attract attention, but as he did he noticed that the man was running straight at him…
He tried to sidestep, but he was just a hair too slow.
The man cannoned into him, knocking the breath from his lungs and sending him to the ground yet again. That would be yet another beautiful bruise in the morning. He managed to lever himself into a sitting position.
“Sorry for invading your mind again. It was the fastest way to find you.” He said, standing up. The man, he found, looked about as terrible as Kyemen felt. He seemed in a daze as he was helped to his feet, and it was only then that it occurred to Kyemen that the blood on his tunic might not have been a victim’s, but his own. All the more reason to find an exit.
“Now let’s get out of here.” Kyemen said, leading the way back down the street, opening his mind to call Sierthra…
“Yous… yous Varden bastards…” The man muttered between labored breaths. Well, that was gratitude, certainly… He just wasn’t finished. “Needa know my name. It’s Kieran. Kieran Kolbjorn.”
“Kyemen Straethir.” Kyemen responded mock-cheerily. “Nice to meet you.”

He led Kieran to a shadowed doorway, looking at the rainy skyline all around for a building that was taller than the rest. The higher they were, the easier Sierthra would be able to pick them up. As he did, he opened his mind to her.
Sierthra, where are you? It's about to get rather busy here.[/Color] As he started immersing herself in her head again, he sensed her concentration and her focus. He hoped his interruption wouldn’t affect anything…
I'm about to drop off the other two. I'll be back in about three minutes- Right then, her mind was suddenly flooded with alarm, bordering on panic. Before he could find out exactly for what, his ears were filled with the familiar buzz of an arrow in flight, making him instinctively throw himself sideways just as the projectile embedded itself into the wall right beneath where his shoulder had been. He realized that while he was talking to Sierthra, he wasn't scanning with his mind to give warning when soldiers were coming. He cursed himself for his carelessness, diving from the confinement of the doorway into the middle of the street, reaching up to draw his sword...
At that exact moment, his left shoulder exploded in enough pain to make him drop to his knees before catching himself, crying out in agony.
All of his training screamed at him to get out of the street, get to cover, because he was hit, he had to be hit by an arrow or a knife that he would have to pull out and heal the wound as fast as possible before he bled out or lost the use of his arm so he had to get to cover...
Somehow, he made it back to the doorway, with his sword somehow still clasped in an adrenaline enhanced white knuckled death-grip. Kieran was still where he had left him, staring at him with an expression that made him look like he was winding up for a particularly foul curse. Wondering just how bad the injury must be to give the other elf that kind of expression, he hurriedly jammed his sword into the ground and probed the back of his shoulder, feeling for the projectile...
There was nothing there.
There was nothing in his shoulder, not a tear in his tunic, not even a painful throb when he pressed on it. Then why in the name of all sanity did it hurt so much?
Before he could even begin to think of answers to this, he was surprised to find an imperial soldier in the doorway, thrusting a short sword at him. Kyemen only just managed to dodge out of the way, plucking his sword from the ground and parrying the second strike with his one good arm. As he did, he saw that there was now at least two squads of soldiers on the street outside, all maneuvering to cut off escape. There would be no getting back out that way.
"Kieran!" He cried, fending off another sword blow. "Get that door open!"

. . .

Sierthra roared again, struggling to get her uninjured wing folded so that the wind would not bat her around and twist her on her shattered wing, causing her more agony that she thought was possible for her to bear. All she wanted to do was roll over and let herself fall into blissful unconsciousness...
She realized, suddenly, that she was in the exact same position that Kyemen had been in earlier, when he had been poisoned and unable to get up. She had yelled at him for that, and she remembered her anger and frustration at how helpless he was.
She would not that happen to her, not when he needed her to come.
Roaring again, this time in rage at the malevolent wind, she summoned up all of her strength. Fighting the constant gust, she slowly, excruciatingly managed to tuck her uninjured wing against her side.

Finally freed from the wrath of the storm, she took a moment to collect her breath, panting heavily. Finally, she slowly eased herself onto her feet, trying as carefully as she could not to jar her injured wing and send fresh waves of pain. At last she was standing up. So far so good.
Surveying her injury, she found her muscled wing bent at an unnatural angle, with a conspicuous break in the foremost bone of the wing, about a foot away from where the membrane joined to her side. Dark blood dripped from the wound, falling steaming to the ground, and she was most distressed to see shards of her own bone sticking out of her body, starkly outlined by a flash of lightning. It looked just as bad as it felt.
But she could not let it beat her. Her Rider needed her help.
As she had been examining the broken wing, the woman and the hatchling had been scrambling off her back, visibly shaken by almost being pinned under her. Cautiously, Sierthra opened her mind to the woman again.
I need you to heal my wing, young one. If you don't, my Rider will die. Do you understand?

[/size][/blockquote]

Done!

[Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress]

“Kyemen Straethir. Nice to meet you.”

There was clear sarcasm in his tone, but I was too tired and too aching to care much. All I wanted was rest, even eternal rest, but I’d be damned if I was forever remembered as ‘That Gangster who Stabbed a Rider’. Somehow, Kyemen’s dragging managed to motivate me to put one foot after the other, although I still relied on him for support. Even though the doorway he led me to was only a few metres away, the steps it took to get there seemed to take hours for me. The nook was shadowy, nice and dark, and when Kyemen leaned me against the door I snuggled up against it, ready to go to sleep right there on my feet. I was somewhat aware of Kyemen’s fear, but I was too tired to wonder at the reason for it. Even the familiar twang of a bowstring being released and the distinct thud of a steel arrowhead being embedded in wood only sort of got my attention.

I watched with half-lidded eyes as Kyemen ran out into the street, hand on the hilt of his sword, but before he drew it he suddenly screamed and fell to the ground, cringing in agony. But nothing had hit him. I blinked, watching him cling to his shoulder and seeing no particular reason for it. It seemed a lot more serious than a sudden ache, that was for sure. After mere moments, though, he managed to heave himself to his feet and scramble back towards me, just in time to avoid being gutted from the back by a pack of Imperial soldiers closing in. He crashed into the doorway, plucking at his invisible injury, and then looked just as surprised as I should have been to find nothing there. Then, about a nanosecond later, a soldier caught up to him and started stabbing. Kyemen easily fended him off, but it was clear that he was still in pain.

“Kieran!” he bellowed. “Get that door open!”

Why? It was so warm here, so comfortable, and my wound wasn’t hurting as much now. The cold stone of the wall and the splintered wood of the door felt like smooth silk against my freezing cheek. I just wanted to drift off, let warm darkness envelop me…

What about Iffy?
I just want to sleep for a little bit. She can wait.
What about Eisolae?
Who?
You heard me, Kolbjorn.
What?

I forced my eyes open. My vision was hazy, full of flashing red and silver. My ears distinctly caught someone yelling something at me, probably Kyemen, but I couldn’t understand the words. But in the fog, one figure, standing alone in the shadow of a corridor, stood out clear and bright among everything else. Thick black hair, mischievously glittering dark eyes, that wolfish grin. Eisolae. Why…?

At that moment, pain exploded in my stomach, far more sharp and burning than when Eisolae had knifed me. My insides sang with pain, and I became starkly aware of a short, blue-eyed young man staring me right in the face, looking hugely proud of himself.

“I did it!” he shrieked. “I killed an elf!”

Images filled my mind, sent by Eisolae. I was burning. Iffy was burning. A distinct joy went along with the images, as well as a truly wholesome satisfaction that could only be achieved by vengeance. As the sword twisted in my gut, the mental pictures of Iffy dead and Eisolae standing smugly over my dead body burned me more than any blade could. I wasn’t going to let some half-assed woman win. She wasn’t even that good-looking. I wouldn’t let her slaughter my Iffy. I would murder that broad if it was the last thing I did.

I stared hard at the man who’d stabbed me. He frowned, seemingly upset that I wasn’t dead yet, and made to twist the blade further. I grabbed him by the throat, shoving him away from me. Briefly, his eyes flashed from annoyance to shock to terror, and with a vicious squeeze, I ended his life. The bones cracking under my grip filled me with a rush of power, and I released the young soldier. He crumpled at my feet. I yanked the shortsword out of my gut, feeling no pain accompanying it, and turned on the soldiers. They had entirely surrounded the doorway- at least twenty of them were waiting with swords pointed outwards. Three were going at Kyemen, whose blows were growing weaker and weaker. But when I glanced at the corridor again, Eisolae was gone.

I didn’t think. I just killed. I wanted to live, and I didn’t care who had to die for it. I wasn’t sure how many times I got pierced by pikes and swords, or how many bones I shattered with my fists and feet. I probably would have gone on until I died of exhaustion, but Kyemen, who’d been at work while I’d been preoccupied murdering, suddenly grabbed me and pulled me through the door, which had somehow been opened. It was slammed in front of me, and I was deposited on the floor. I heard chairs and tables being scraped, and saw them being shoved against the door, which rattled with booms as the soldiers outside flung their weight against it.

“That’ll buy us a few seconds. Get up!”

I stood, the thoughts of Eisolae driving me to move. Kyemen snatched my sleeve and pulled me along behind him, but with far less force than he’d used before. He was tired, too. We managed to bumble up two flights by the time I heard the door being breached, but by then neither of us could go on. He gripped the banister while I crashed against the wooden wall. So, this was it.

No! Think of Eisolae!

Suddenly, it struck me that Eisolae didn’t have mental abilities. Her magic had been weak, but still there, but it was nada when it came to the thought stuff. And wasn’t she out of Feinster by now? The presence didn’t seem like her, either, it was less corrupt, less ruled by desire, mostly full of fear for herself and for her Rider.

… Sierthra?
In the flesh. Or at least I will be, in a moment.

The next thing that happened was right out of the tale of Chicken Little. The sky literally fell on my head. The ceiling’s thick wooden beams snapped like twigs under a massive quartet of claws and a sweeping tail, shortly followed by a burst of green flame that singed more than a few hairs on my head, and, remarkably, singed more than a few soldiers on their way up the stairs. The walls broke apart, too, making way for a massive pair of wings spreading in the tiny third floor of the house. The dragon peered down at me, blinking her huge green eyes. She looked almost indecisive about something. Probably still wondering how to eat me, then. Still, I supposed being turned into an elf flambé was better than the death the Imperials had planned out for me.

Words;; 1187
Muse;; Sooooo BADDDDDD
Thoughts;; My worst post on the site so far. I am SO SORRY. I had absolutely NO ideas for it.

[renea]

Tasalae was concerned about landing in this rain, the winds were going crazy and she was worried about the dragon, along with the child that she was holding tightly in her arms. This child was not at all old enough to understand what was going on. She wanted nothing more then to get on the ground and see that Sierthra got to her rider, she needed that in her life, to have that rider, Kyemen, to survive. He was one of the main riders that the Varden need, one of the very important ones. She had asked her question, waiting to see what would happen and knowing that Sierthra was not enjoying being a ferry service at the moment.

"I’ll land where I damned well land. Tasalae looked down at her head, where she had once been watching the ground and the land before them. "It’s not my fault it’s raining, nor is it my fault that you have to be brought out of the city this way. Maybe if you’d minded your own business, you’d still be warm and dry, those people wouldn’t have died, and the most important person to me in the entire world wouldn’t be putting his life on the line again to try and save everyone else involved. Now just-" Tasalae was silent, she knew it was not her time to speak, she just allowed her mind to focus on getting this child home safely. She would need to speak with the Queen about bring the child into Du Weldenvarden, she had already fallen in love with the child... She did not know, but she had a soft spot for children.

Then, she saw the land below, a perfect landing spot and the dragon had seen it also, taking a circle around it and then heading down. She was preparing for impact when she felt the wind change and she pulled the child tigher against her to keep her from going into the spikes. The human was so breakable, she did not want her getting hurt, but she felt her twisted and sheilding them. She fell off the dragon, holding the child and looked up at the her as she covered the child with her arm. She saw that she was on her wing and could not help but see the worse soming. She saw the wind catch her wing and then heard the snapping of the wing.

The roar was loud and she saw the child place her hands over her ears and Tasalae stood, giving the cloak to the child. "Go Child! Go to the Trees!" The child looked at the dragon before she looked at the trees. She seemed to be amazed by the dragon and then looked at the woman.

"Yes Ma'am... Thank you Miss Dragon!" She ran to the forest and pulled the cloak over her head and watching as Tasalae went to the dragon, stopping just short. Another roar echoed through the air and Tasalae watched as she tried to tame the other wing. She knew that she was in pain, it was easy to see and she did not say a thing about it. She got the wing into her side and Tasalae looked at the damager she could see.

A broken wing, she could not fly with it, it would have to be healed and there was only one being who could do that here... Well, there was two, but dragons had a hard time calling on magic like elves and riders did, for they could not speak the word, only think it. She had seen some great magic come from the dragon, had witnessed many things. She saw the blood and waited to be addressed, knowing that approaching a dragon was asking for a missing head or other part of the body. "I need you to heal my wing, young one. If you don't, my Rider will die. Do you understand?" Young One? Even Tasalae was not sure how old the dragon was, but she only had known of one dragon and that was Gleadr.

"I understand," She came forward, examining the wing and chosing to heal the bone first. She spoke the words needed to heal the wing and held her hands over the wing. She saw the bone go back into place and then the wing. "Sierthra, go, get your rider, your wing is healed and good as new," She said, standing and looking at her. Her emerald eyes looked right at the dragon, unafraid as she knew this dragon was might. Her tight tunic covered her body, all the way to her wrist, gloves on her hands now after the healing. She was soaked, but she did not care.

[Angmor]

Though his mind was steadily becoming more and more numb with fatigue, Kyemen was still lucid enough to realize that he was losing this fight. He had long since stopped thinking about what he was doing, simply letting his body take control of his sword, the blade darting to and fro blocking two or three or four strikes with each movement. This left his conscious mind to contemplate just why he was losing, and quite probably about to die here.

First of all it was the numbers. If there was one thing that the Empire had, it was an abundance of soldiers. He could see a teeming mass of soldiers swarming around the entrance of what had been his hiding place, each one seemingly raring to go at him. Secondly was his injuries. His body had taken a lot of abuse over the past few hours, and for some reason that had him completely baffled, his left shoulder didn't seem to work, leaving him only one-handed parrying. Every time he tried to move it, it would explode in pain, almost like it was dislocated, which simply was not possible, unless some mage had done so with magic. But the main reason was that his backup, the reason he was here in the first place, was seemingly catatonic. It seemed like an eternity since he had called for Kieran to open the door behind him, although it was probably only a few seconds. But it was long enough. ONe thing that was always needed in a fight against long odds was room to retreat. But he was given no time to open the door himself, and Kieran did not seem to be able to do so. One thing was sure, he wasn't going to last long like this.
It hit him with a pang that he had forgotten all about Sierthra.
He cursed himself for a fool. Sometimes he had to remind himself that he wasn’t some wandering criminal anymore.
So where was she?

[/blockquote]

Still not done, sadly. I'm sorry guys, I'm really having a hard time finding muse for this one right now. =/