Closed Circle (MP, Op 1)

[ARWEN REDFERN]

{ FEEL IT COMIN' IN THE AIR AND THE SCREAMS FROM EVERYWHERE }
I'M ADDICTED TO THE THRILL
- - - - - - IT'S A DANGEROUS LOVE AFFAIR

Crim was talking to her in her mind. The girl’s bright blue eyes looked at the blonde haired man before watching him wink at her. She didn’t blush, but just stared at him for a moment before looking away a bit too quickly. Was he flirting with her? She felt her face turn a light pink color before covering that up by looking down, her curls covering her face. She glanced over at the dark haired elf that was now speaking. She remained as silent as possible while giving him a small stare. It was a bad habit, the girl knew. Staring wasn’t always good, but she couldn’t help it! Once he was done talking, she turned her attention towards the woman. The wicked looking woman. Gripping her swords, she refrained from snarling back a few words back to her. Grinding her teeth together, she then continued to listen. The woman was now looking back at the entrance of the cave and her eyes turned the most amazing color. Violet. It was a pretty color, but there was no way Arwen was going to admit that to her. She refused to look upset at the woman, for she only glanced quickly away from her. Arwen was still silent, and her heart had stopped beating so fast.

While walking slowly towards the steps, the dark haired girl warned herself. Don’t rush. Silence. Besides, if Randal was here…he would probably beat her with a stick! She gave a small inward shudder. Murtagh. He still didn’t know where she was. She prayed silently that he wouldn’t be all too angry. While walking, she let out a small sneeze. It was quiet though, which was good. Rubbing her nose, she looks to see someone pass her. Looking back now, she sees other people following her and others just looking at her with…annoyance? A small smirk reaches her lips as she continues down while slowly making her way down the hole. Silent as a mouse. A snake. Her footsteps were silent, like the others chosen on this quest. Once reaching the bottom, she waited for orders. It was dark. Arwen took note of this. With Kyemen giving orders, she watched him use magic. Her blue eyes widened slightly. She had never seen anyone ever make their blade glow red before. Like a child again, she stared at the blade with a look of amazement. Wiping the look off her face, she struggled to make her face as neutral as possible.

He now gave orders and with a nod, she made her way towards the stairs. She waited for a second before descending slowly. She was as quiet as she could be while going down. Squinting in the dark, she tried to find some sort of light. Growling irritably, she decided to take the whole magic concept into her own hands. Muttering something under her breath, she created a small blue ball of flame in her hand. There. Much better. It wasn’t all that bright and at least she could see. Arwen couldn’t help but shiver slightly at the cool wind that felt as if it blew past her.

There was nothing at the bottom, to her relief. She stood at the bottom and with a grim look on her face, she brought the light closer towards her, in hopes of seeing better. Besides, it was easy to put this light out. No harm, right?

Right?

words lalaa. Who knows? tagged OP1 ppl notes OUTFIT. && this is gonna be fun for arwen.
template PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION

[//|:Crim~Harrowmont:|\\]

CRIM HARROWMONT

Arrows in the Sky

((sorry for long wait, wanted to make it good, other archer, im going to do something please go with it))


Crim stood waiting, outside the hole that his comrades had passed through, the goldenish sunlight streaming through what scarce tree cover there was, his leather armor creaked and groaned slightly as he breathed and swayed. he ran a finger over the curve of his bow, the sensation of the smooth yet hard dragon bone tickling his skin, memories of each kill he has ever done with this instrument of perfection run through his open elven mind.

suddenly a thought enters his head, and he turns to the other archer to study him. withdrawn, arrogant, confident in his way. even crim as young as he was knew his own faults. but this, this was a bit over the edge.

he then turns and nocks an arrow in the span of a second having heard the sound of slight footsteps moving north. he sights the arrow and finds just a deer, and a shrub next to it, nothing out of the ordiniary. he relaxes and puts his bow at half draw, the sunlight gleaming off its polished and treated surface. he silenty sheathes his bow on his back quiver that holds it perfectly and draws his sword, it is a beautiful weapon, and he holds it with pride and honor, he swings it a bit. noticing the change in the wind and smell of deer dung that accompanies it. in the distance birds chirp lightly. all is quiet on the western front.

once again he hears the footsteps and draws his bow slightly slower this time and peers at the deer. something was missing.
where was the bush. the one with the dark green leaves that had many numerous small filament like hairs all over it. it was missing... shrubs dont move.

he scanned the hole and saw the bush overturned he swore loudly "BRISNGR" that bush was a decoy, frantically he threw his mind towards Arwen, "there was a diversion, an unkown number progbally small slipped in through the hole, they used a fake bush as cover, they shoudl probally be there shortly due to the amount of time left...SHIT one sec"

as he had been contacting Arwen another bush had appeared ont he scarce tree covers edge, he immiadtly told the other archer "ITS A DIVERSION THEIR ARE PEOPLE UNDER THE BUSH"

he nocked an arrow then dipped into the dirt for a second uttering the phrase "unja morjta liet uno loim" the dirt took on an oilish sheen then Cirm sighted down the bow drawing its full 290 pounds benidn the bow insanely over, its surface glistening. his white hair blew suddenly, and the wind ripped at his armorment with invisible hands, as if nature knew his intent. the sun shone strangely as a dragon flew in between him and the sun, passing it in the blue barren of the skyvat.

he shouted "BRISNGR" and the dirt that was now oil lit on fire as he loosed the arrow, it instantly dissapeared as it rocketed away, almost instantly crim saw it hit the shrub, it was a full two point oh three seconds until he heard the scream, then the plant lit on fire as he loosed the magic holding the fire to the oil, the plant burned, a small extremely black smokey stack on the flat plains that surrounded them. he turned to the other and said " COVER ME SIR" he drew his blade and sheathed his bow with the other hand, then took of tearing across the landscape, he arrived at the bush in a few seconds, the fire just now letting its brillant life go out, he looked down and saw sure enough bandits, wearing full plate mail and armed to the teeth with weapons. it was a good thing his arrows were materia peircing. he signaled the other archer and then walked back slowly. explainign the situation. ending with the words
"its up to ang for the ones to pass through, i am sorry sir, i should have been more attentive"

[Saphira]

She measured the direction of the wind as the southernly breeze danced in near silence with the onyx strands of loose hair framing her pale face. Rich green, almond shaped eyes missed nothing in the scene that lay before her like a fairth, painted in the colors that were realism rather than a figment of her imagination. She had her orders, just like every other pawn on the playing field. Only they were no pawns and the expression felt lacking to the elven woman's own mind. They each had an important role to play if they were to succeed. Their operation leader had given her the role of staying hidden and putting her archery skills to good use. If the situation grew heated she would perhaps come to the forefront but as things were she was to be a trump card--as was the sapphire blue dragon who was keeping hidden in cloud cover above. It would not do to show all of ones cards to the opposing side, after all.

Arya could survey the entire situation from her position. She was hidden and yet had a perfect view. Kyemen had done all he could to ensure the operation would be a success. Now it was up to his players to do their job; only she was not sure of the competence of some of these so called 'players'. She could see that the actions of one or two were as though they were untried. She narrowed her eyes as she watched their actions. Suddenly she heard someone call out and her bow was immediately drawn taunt, arrow ready to let fall the moment a target was affirmed. She did not get the opportunity to do any such thing. One of the archers was running towards a bush which, when she reached out with her mind, she knew to be inhabited by hidden forces. How many was not clear but her displeasure grew as the foolish young man shouted out a familiar word in the ancient language. Saying it would have been well enough but with her intensified hearing capabilities she could hear it from where she was crouched lightly on the balls of her feet. If she could hear it, so could others who might be on the opposing side. Her lips set in a firm line, though she did not let her irritation show. Were they unable to even meet the most preliminary of battle tactics? One did not go in alone like that, shouting. She shifted ever so slightly and glanced towards Kyemen's position. Were these all volunteers or were any of them tried warriors like him and herself?

I ought to 'brisingr' him for so foolhardy an action. There is no room for heroics today, commented Saphira through their mental link. Arya agreed but what was done was done.

'I believe it is not our place. Kyemen hired these individual's services for better or worse. Let us just hope they do not jeopardize our mission. I will not take injury for another's foolhardy actions, the elven woman sent back, brushing a strand of jet black hair behind a pointed ear in a swift movement. The arrow was still nocked to the bowstring, for who knew who had been alerted by the archer's voice? Her emerald eyes scanned the terrain once more but as of the moment could not have indicated whether or no something was stirring in the sparse cover of greenery. Nay, more likely anything that was hidden hid behind cover of rock--just like herself.

She watched the ruins as the sun kept up its slow descent over the horizon. It was beautiful the way it painted the skies and scenery in otherworldly colors. Even the desecrated ruins were beautiful with the array of colors the sun set ablaze upon them. She did not exactly have time to admire but she did have eyes and those eyes could see it all crystal clear. Night would set in and the eyes of the humans would be weaker. She had hoped to have this over with before the darkest time of day and yet she had many doubts that it would be so simplistic. The third party they were here to discover, the one who wished to waylay them and stop the joint efforts of the Varden and Empire...the clues had led here. Nasuada did not know of their plans and since she, unlike Eragon, had sworn no fealty to the leader of the Varden she had leave to join in on this mission. Saphira had wanted to go in Eragon's stead and so had feigned a hunting trip as her cover. No one told a dragon what to do or not do, besides. She was sent a feeling of smug satisfaction from the brilliant blue dragon whom she had grown so close to. While she and Eragon remained friends it was Saphira whom she spoke with most these days. Not having a dragon of her own suited her fine. Saphira granted her the right to ride upon her. How much of this had to do with Eragon's unrequited feelings for her she didn't know. Yet Saphira had let her know that she was fond of her. The feeling was mutual.

She was watching and waiting for any sign of movement or life from the entrance to the ruins. Had that archer's folly alerted someone to their presence? Or did they still go unnoticed? Would she be called upon to take a position as a sword fighter or remain in cover? Kyemen had said 'trump cards'. So probably they were to remain under cover until needed. She was patient for if nothing else time was something she had. Whether something happened or not she could not for see and she chastised herself for thinking so...human...of the matter. Thinking on the future in such a manner did nothing but cause undue stress. Taking a deep breath she kept her eyes open for anything amiss.

[Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress]

I had to admit, though being stuck in Straethir’s servitude was not ideal, he wasn’t the worst. I had poisoned him, tortured him mentally, physically, and emotionally, and given him the worst sort of experience imaginable, but he never lost his logic, or his temper. He was thick, but certainly not stupid, and he was quite sufferable for an elf. I could tell he’d spent a long time among humans despite being very young- the elf stink was gone, as well as many of the mannerisms. He spoke the ancient language with a thick accent. If I didn’t owe him my life and more, we might have actually had a bit in common. He stood there and took my subtle threats with a shaky but determined confidence. I couldn’t make him angry, and I couldn’t intimidate him. Unless I thought of something brilliant that got me to escape his clutches without dying, I’d just have to ride this one out.

“Look, Kieran.” He removed my hand form his shoulder gingerly, like he was handling a loaded crossbow. “I know you’re not happy with this situation. Point of fact, neither am I. But I need you, and you owe me one, it’s as simple as that. Maybe even more than one. We’ll see just how useful you are in there. But I need this done, and frankly, you will do it whether you like it or not. Ya hear?”
“Yeah… yeah, I hear ya,” I growled, immensely pissed. If there was one thing I couldn’t do right, it was fulfill a debt. I couldn’t wait to see how I handled this one.
“Good. I’m glad we understand one another. Now, we’d better get over to that building before Arwen trips on her sword and wakes the place up. You first.”

After an awkward moment with Straethir where we sort of stared at each other, trying to figure one another out, I turned and followed the pack into the tunnel. I immediately focussed on the op, which was my comfort zone. I had done this a million times over the past hundred years. I paused outside the hole, testing it with my foot. The dirt was soft and smelled wet, indicating that it had been dug up very recently. The tunnel was new, and probably rushed. With a sigh, I descended into the darkness, knowing it would slope steeply downward for some time before it levelled out. Stepping carefully and following the noises of the operatives in front of me, I managed to make it to where the tunnel became wide and flat. There, I could see my fellow operatives adjusting.

Amateurs. Straethir and Vorandeer had definitely had training, so I had no issues with either of them yet, but I wasn’t impressed with the girls. They were both treating it like a joke- Laioni had yet to do anything terrible, but I could tell she wasn’t exactly giving it her all, besides the fact that she’d likely kill everyone just for her own entertainment, and Redfern had gone and made a blue bonfire after diving into the fast-approaching carnage with an unhealthy glee. I’d had far more experience than most people with half-anythings, and I knew human and elven mixtures were especially odd, but this was simply ridiculous. I held my tongue, though, knowing that Laioni, with her full-blooded elven arrogance, was about to shoot her mouth off yet again.

“Might you put that light out?” she sneered, bending down to pick something up. “I was hoping that the one other woman among us would have some shred of common sense, but I appear to be wrong. Perhaps next time, Straethir, you’ll choose your team members based on intelligence rather than looks- ooh.” She was holding a stone tablet that she was inspecting with surprising interest. She raised a hand and beckoned to me with her long black fingernails. “You, come here. You’re the oldest.”

I was surprised to realize that she was right. Straethir and I were the only ones on the entire mission that had witnessed the Fall, and he was half my age and then some. Still, I didn’t know why that made me so important. I picked my way over to her, squinting at the ground in the gloom. Interestingly, despite the tunnel being fresh, there were shattered, eroded rocks everywhere, probably lower levels of the ruin that had been reclaimed by the earth. They were covered with writing, some old elven scripts that I didn’t understand. I’d learned them way back when Urû’baen was still called Ilirea, but I’d promptly forgotten it as soon as I returned to Du Weldenvarden. When I reached Laioni, I saw that her eyes were a sort of deep, lightless violet where they had once been grey, and she was holding a tablet with notably clear writing, but it had been scribbled over with long-outdated common tongue lettering.

“I don’t read this version of human runes,” she muttered. “It’s probably from when those stinking bags of flesh first arrived on these shores. It’s from your time, surely, so why don’t you read it for me?”
“ ‘Gwiddon eats donkey shit.’ ”
“I can see you’re a martyr.”
“No, really. It’s too dark to read the other ones.”
“What? Haven’t you-” She did something weird where she looked like she was smelling me, and then her eyes dawned with realization. “Ah, no magical abilities. Then I’m afraid I shall have to give you a hand, if you’re going to be of any use.”
“Ain’t there better things we could be doing?” I snarled. “Like, oh, maybe doing a perimeter of the tunnel? Lotta people were slaves back then; I doubt it’ll say anything other than- MMPH.” I forcibly bit my lip to stop myself from crying out when she suddenly rammed her fingernail into my right temple, muttering a spell. The actual pain came when it felt like my eyeballs were melting off layer by layer, and then reattaching themselves before rolling around and popping out. I rubbed them furiously.
“I do apologize if your body rejects the spell,” she said so cheerily that it was obvious she wasn’t sorry in the least. “Worst case scenario, you’ll go blind.”
“Bitch, if you screwed me over with voodoo…” I managed to open my eyes, though they still stung, and saw that every colour except various shades of purple had vanished, giving me proper night vision. Very cool, except for the pain.
“Now read it, Mr. Kolbjorn.”

I was surprised to find out that some old memories resurfaced, and I could read a little of the old elven scripts, although it said little else but crap about the kings and queens of old. The human graffiti, on the other hand, had a collection of highly colourful curses that rendered even this aged criminal impressed. But beyond them, there were other things. It was littered with insane rants that went from homicidal rambling to oddly insightful phrases, and then back to the homicidal rambling. I’d met my fair share of maniacs, both harmless and psychotic, but a strange feeling that made the night vision spell feel like an old bruise swept over me, sending a shiver down my spine.

“Most of these slaves were dumb beasts, but others were a little more enlightened, no?” said Laioni, without a hint of sarcasm.
“Um… no.” I slapped it out of her hand. “That thing is evil, woman.”
“Your superstitions are oddly untypical of an elf. Gone native, have we?”
“Alright!” called Straethir, surprising me. “What have we discovered?”
Back to focussing on the op, Kieran. “This thing is new,” I announced, careful not to shout. “Really new, and they didn’t have time to do it pretty. Craptastic workmanship…” I patted one of the splintered wooden beams holding the tunnel up, “… and it stinks. Blood, sweat, tears. Goddam Devil was driving them on. Let’s hope we don’t hit them in here, ‘cause this ain’t about to stand a lotta movement.”
“We might also take account of the fact that this fort was abandoned, long before Galbatorix was even born and long after Wyrdfell,” said Laioni. “Something drove them out- disease, a spell gone wrong, anything. Whatever it was, it may still be here.” She sniffed unappreciatively. “Which just makes this filthy undercroft even less pleasant. Are we going to wallow in human filth much longer? If this rickety mine collapses before we’re out, I may snap and go cannibal. What fun!”

Words;; 1414
Muse;; Awful.
Thoughts;; I was feeling pretty shitty, so... grr. This probably came out the same.

[Kite]

*Daran nearly cursed when Arwen used magic to create a floating torch. Wrecked his night vision. There went that idea. It bothered him a little that the woman Arwen didn't understand that it gave them even footing with the enemy. They were probably trained to run through this hall and up the stairs without light, so when they ran up and saw light, two things happened. They realized that someone was standing there, which lost us the surprise factor and gave it to them, and it made them completely blind should it be moved away or snuffed. Which gave the enemy, who is used to dark, the seconds they needed to kill the two of them and move on. Besides, weren't half-elves "better" than humans in pretty much every way? Couldn't they adjust quicker and see better in the dark anyway? Well, he thought wryly, obviously that was wrong.

He tapped his foot lightly, listening to the Elven woman Laioni who told Arwen to shut the light off, and shrugged. He really didn't want trouble with the team, so he didn't say anything despite his strong feelings on the matter. He merely got ready for something to happen.

That was, however, when Salmissra contacted him.

Salmissra had caught up with Siertha and Saphira just a moment ago as they slowed, although she had been only falling behind a little. Salmissra could honestly not wait until she was a little older and reached her growth point. Then she would be perfect in the air. She already took to it naturally, but she just couldnt keep up with the dragons she was working with because she was just simply smaller. She'd fill out though.

She feels the communication from Siertha, and she greets both Siertha and Saphira.*

Hello, Siertha, Saphira... He has indeed told us to take them alive should we get the chance, although with between you two, you should have no problem with that.

*Salmissra was a bit thrown, working with two dragons so much older than her. Especially Saphira, but that was just because she was labelled above all others an enemy of the Empire. That didn't bother her, because the way she and Daran looked at it was that they were only with them until there was something they could do about it. Sure, they would do their best, but that was just professionalism not their true view. Still, knowing these things and getting them into practice are two different things. She decided to remain respectful and quiet unless otherwise asked.

Her thoughts were distracted with a flurry of movement from the awkward elven man, a large amount of yelling and fire and running from him, eventually killing someone who had been in a moving bush. She got that full picture and nodded, thinking Daran should be warned as he was deepest down as a guard with a half elf.

Their minds meld even deeper, and Daran recieves Salmissra's thoughts, nodding a bit. He turns to Arwen and speaks softly.*

Hear the news?

*Daran reaches out with his mind to Kyemen and presses against the barriers gently with a feeling of announcement, before sending him a message.*

Men were just trying to sneak through to the cave. I have a suspicion that some may have gotten through, although Crim apparantly pulled a one-man army on one... They might know we are here now, and you might have people nearly on top of you... Thought you should know.

[Angmor]

Not for the first time, Kyemen wished there was a spell for duplicating himself several times. It would solve so very many problems in his life, when he came upon a situation where he could not accomplish something by himself. This inevitably led to him looking for a group to help him out, and he was also inevitably saddled with a group that carried with it enough issues and flaws of character to fill volumes. Still, who was he to judge? It wasn’t as if he didn’t have his own interesting flaws and idiosyncrasies to add to the mix. But still, did that mean he had to get all of the strange people the Varden had to offer? Every time?

With a sigh, he focused past all the talking being directed his way, devoting his full concentration to the task at hand. He figured it was probably all criticisms for his command-decision making skills anyway, in which case he would be no better off having heard it. For the moment, he had to make sure that he checked every corner of this gloomy cavern. If he didn’t, then he and the rest of his team would have to be looking over their shoulders wherever they went in here, and that was dangerous. Kyemen had read enough cheap horror stories about people poking around in abandoned structures who ended up disappearing one by one simply because they were careless. Of course, he did not expect anything like that here, but still… there was something about this place. Something that unsettled him in a way he couldn’t quite put his finger on. It was probably just the light, the way that shadows seemed to flee from his glowing blade as if they were alive every time he stepped around a corner or moved suddenly. Maybe the red cast had been a mistake. Anything looked hellish if it was looked at in a harsh red light. It wasn’t the best for finding exact details, either. But it was ideal for finding enemies, and that was all that mattered for the moment. After he was well and truly sure that there was no one waiting to jump out and kill them, then there would be time to investigate.

As he had expected, the chamber went back quite a ways, extending about two hundred yards beyond the tunnel mouth. The chamber was indeed held up by four thick stone pillars, all of them identical to the one he had already seen, complete with the oddly hypnotic carvings. Every time he glimpsed them, he felt that he was just on the verge of understanding the meaning, but it always remained frustratingly out of reach. The walls, when he eventually found them amid the darkness, were similarly decorated, but not nearly with the same kind of hypnotic beauty that the pillars possessed. With these details, he guessed that they were in a basement under the building’s eastern tier, just above the main foundation. Although there was a layer of dirt beneath his feet, he suspected that he would not have to dig far to find the solid bedrock that a structure of this size would have to be built on in order to stand this long. And apparently, someone had indeed been digging. Every here and there, he would find discarded tools, lying forlornly under a thin layer of dust. Obviously, someone had been looking for something. But, as far as he could tell, those someones where not here anymore.

At least marginally satisfied that the chamber was free of nasty surprises, he turned, making his way back toward where he left Kieran. As his light fell across the spot, he found the gangster hunched over some shapeless object, apparently deep in conversation with Laioni. He frowned. Somehow, he didn’t think that they were having a friendly chat over there, and if he knew Kieran, it was probably about to break into violence. “Alright!” He called, quickening his stride slightly so as to be within arm’s reach, as well as to hopefully get a look at what they were studying so intently. “What have we discovered?”
Kieran straightened up suddenly, his ghostly face visibly coming back to the moment at hand. “This thing is new,” He said. “Really new, and they didn’t have time to do it pretty. Craptastic workmanship…” Kieran patted one of the wooden tunnel supports, causing Kyemen to wince involuntarily. If it was so ‘craptastic’, as he put it, was it really the best idea to be knocking on it? “… and it stinks. Blood, sweat, tears. Goddam Devil was driving them on. Let’s hope we don’t hit them in here, ‘cause this ain’t about to stand a lotta movement.”
"We might also take account of that fact that this fort was abandoned, long before Galbatorix was even born and long after Wyrdfell." Butted in Laionia, dropping whatever she had been studying and dusting off her hands. "Something drove them out- disease, a spell gone wrong, anything. Whatever it was, it may still be here. Which is what makes this filthy undercroft even less pleasant. Are we going to wallow in human filth much longer? If this rickety mine collapses before we're out, I may snap and go cannibal. What fun!" She finished gleefully. Kyemen held up a hand.
"Alright, keep your shirt on." Not that it would make much difference...

[/Color] He managed not to say. "Even if it comes down, we've got a passage over there that goes up into the rest of the building. I think most of us here can handle a mere one-story fall if it comes to that. Now, there's nothing more to see here till we clear this place out, so let's get moving..." As he said it, he let the sentence trail off, suddenly having a strange feeling...
After a moment, he identified it as a pressure in his mind. And yet ,it wasn't an aggressive, malevolent pressure, it was more like a tap...
In a flash of recognition, he remembered the simple three-step pattern he had given to contact him, lowering his barriers to allow entrance to the other consciousness. Probably Myth, he decided. Human mental signatures where rather distinct from an elf's, although this presence contained far more of the razor edges of logic than most humans he had encountered, and less of the multi-colored fog of emotions. A very good thing to know.
Men were just trying to sneak through the cave.[/Color] The words formed in his mind. I have a suspicion that some may have gotten through, although Crim apparently pulled a one-man army on one... They might know we are here now, and you might have people nearly on top of you... Thought you should know.[/Color]
Kyemen frowned. As the meaning finally absorbed, he turned toward the mouth of the tunnel, bringing the light to bear...
By pure accident, the angle of his turn brought his sword blade around just in time to come into the path of an oncoming arrow, knocking the missile aside with a sharp ping. As the light spread, there was revealed at least eight dark figures making their way down the slope of the tunnel, the closest one of which was nocking another arrow to the bowstring.
On an adrenaline-fueled thought that really took no time at all, Kyemen calculated that, while he and Laioni could probably shrug off two or three arrow impacts, Kieran probably would not have wards in place. With all of them bunched together as they were, the odds of the older elf being hit were better than even. Even before he finished thinking this, his left hand came up, the magic sending the familiar tingle down his arm.
"Adurna risa!"
Immediately, Kyemen saw the bowman slip as the already damp dirt at the floor of the tunnel turned instantly to mud, causing most of the onrushing figures to stumble or fall. Knowing the gambit would not buy much time, Kyemen mentally extinguished the light, plunging the tunnel into almost complete blackness. Acting quickly, he shoved Kieran sideways as he himself stepped the opposite direction, just as an arrow whistled through the space between them, close enough to ruffle his hair. He brought his sword up into a ready position, catching the glint and whistle of an enemy blade just as it crashed against his guard.

. . .

Slightly more than a quarter mile away from where Kyemen stood, south and a little east of the ruin itself, a sudden flurry of activity had begun. Anyone looking from the air would probably be reminded of a disturbed anthill as a swarm of armed men came boiling out of several heavily disguised tunnel entrances on the floor of the grassland, forming up into neat ranks and files as if they had trained for months.
As in fact they had.
To a man, every rank was clad in a set of dull gray plate armor over a hauberk of finely-linked chainmail, and clasped at least one weapon in gauntlet-clad fist. From the total lack of wear and rust, would have been quite obvious had there been anyone to observe that the livery was newly-forged, and had not seen battle. Even more unusual, the weapons and armor carried on them no marking, decoration, or coat of arms, presenting an unbroken front of plain metal. The only delineation of rank to be seen was the officers, who bore a thick black stripe along their shoulder-plates and the top of their helms. It was an impressive force, even beyond its sudden appearecne on the plain, numbering at over three-hundred strong, well-trained fighters. Amid the sudden chaos, as rows of men scrambled into position crossing here and there along the staging area, one man stood amid the confusion, smiling around the simple wooden pipe clenched in his teeth as he surveyed the forces arraying themselves before him. This man wore no armor, and he kept no visible weapon. The face that was occasionally lit by the puffing of his tobacco was not one that carried any real attractiveness, and his distinctly average height and build did not give him any kind of formidable aura to be detected. And yet, he stood safe in the knowledge that of all the warriors in this field tonight, he was the deadliest one of all.

This was Laril. A man of thirty-five years, he spent his childhood as an urchin of the streets, one of the countless refugees of life to be dealt a blow by fate from the very beginning. He did not remember when he came to be a member of the Thieves Guild. He was taken in at such a young age, it was simply his life. He rose through the ranks like any other member, starting out with minor pickpocketing and lookout work, slowly graduating through burglary, highway robbery, and just about every other illicit activity the Empire had a law for. Very soon, it became clear that, while he did not have the strongest arm, the quickest fingers, or the fastest feet, he possessed something far more valuable;
A very keen and agile mind.
He quickly began to distinguish himself amongst his fellows when he planned his assigned job with so much cleverness and wit, even the victims of his thievery were impressed. After a while, when he took to making sure that his plans would be accomplished without him ever having to enter combat, he ceased to carry with him any kind of weapon, earning him the admiring title of Noblade. Not long after this, he was promoted to a high lieutenant within the Thieves Guild, overseeing and planning operations throughout the Empire and Surda. This he did for several years, honing his skills and abilities to their peak.
Until a year before, the day that everything had changed.

He remembered that fateful winter day, when the Guild had been contacted for a meeting by a mysterious personage. He remembered the subsequent meeting, where this person had proposed a plan so daring that it would make even the lowliest Guild member rich beyond his dreams. And he remembered when the day came where he had been convinced, and actually came to believe it could be true.
It had been this mysterious benefactor who had provided the armor, weapons and equipment for tonight's operation, as well as the sturdy delvings from which they were now emerging. But it had been the Guild that had provided the men. And it had been Laril who had provided the leadership, the training, and, most importantly, the plan. And now, here he stood, looking out over what he had accomplished, and he found it good.

The satisfaction couldn't last, however. He sighed, sensing the heavy footsteps of the representative from the Thieves Guild’s mysterious benefactor, the person whom had had been instructed to call ‘Smith’. It was quite obviously an alias, but Laril played along, having no other name he could go by. He sighed, turning to face the dark, cloak-swathed form of his technical superior for tonight’s operation, taking the pipe from his mouth to speak in the clipped, brusque tone of voice that he preferred.
“What can I do for you, Smith?” He kept just the right note of deference in his voice to keep the relationship cordial, but still carrying his annoyance. Really, all this cloak-and-dagger stuff was starting to become tiresome. It wasn’t as if Smith could conceal his true form, anyway.
Laril knew perfectly well that he wasn’t human.
“Some of your men have disobeyed orders!” Said Smith angrily. “They have attacked prematurely, and alerted the enemy to our presence!” He pointed a heavily-gloved hand. “Look there, you can see the smoke. I thought you said your men were disciplined, Laril. If this operation fails, I swear it will be on your head…”
Laril held up a hand to forestall any further words. “Relax Smith. This was all a part of my plan.”
“What? How can this be?”
Laril sighed theatrically. He did not enjoy having to explain his plans to others, considering how long it took for understanding to sink in, but it seemed there was now no choice. “It’s very simple.” He said. “The men that you have seen are merely a small bandit group that moved into the ruins after your people left. I allowed them to stay, because I knew that they would attack our enemies when their supposed territory became threatened, as you can see they did. This now serves three purposes. Firstly, our enemy’s attention is occupied, so they will not notice our little force assembling until we are well underway. Secondly, I now know the position of his rearguard. Archers, I now suspect. I can now order the catapults that you so graciously provided to pound them into fine powder.” Laril gestured past Smith, calling over one of the lieutenants he had trained. “Jorim, begin your bombardment, targeting that smoke. Take that area for one moment, then cease fire when our troops get close enough to mop up. There is only a few enemies, so there will be extra reward for you and your men if you take them all out before we get there.” The man nodded smartly, then trotted off to his team, who had just finished wheeling the pair of catapults from the tunnels and were pushing them into position. Laril watched them, smiling fondly around his pipe. When his benefactors had provided him with two of the smallish siege weapons for him to use, he had immediately recognized their value. One of the first things he had done was start training the men to use them, having one team focus on accuracy, the other on shear speed of reloading the weapon and firing. Together, they made a deadly team, one that should have been able to take out Straethir’s archers, or at least keep them pinned down until the men got in close enough to finish them off. The catapults would have other uses over the course of the night, as well.
For his part, Smith seemed unimpressed. “I suppose I can see the logic in that. But have you given any thought to the dragons? Surely they pose some threat…”
“I was told that was your department.” Said Laril, rounding sharply back on Smith. “I was told from this third party, that you represent, I might add, that you and the little friends you brought would have the dragons well in hand. Were they wrong? Because we might as well call this off now if they were.”
For a moment, they simply stared at one another, each sizing up the other for a reaction. Eventually, Smith was the first to crack, averting his shadowed eyes.
“No. Have no fear, my beasts will handle them handily. I merely wished to see if you had plans that might interfere.”
“Of course. Forgive my sharpness.” Said Laril, inwardly flush with victory that he had asserted his dominance. That was one of the only two worries he had for this operation, the other being that the dragons would not be handled as well as Smith believed they would. But still, should the operation fail for that reason, it would not be on his head. He got paid either way.
“Now…” He said, waving his pipe in the air for the signal for the men to begin moving forward. As planned, one group of fifty would advance on Straethir’s archers, while the rest moved to surround the ruin, forming an airtight box from which nothing would escape.
Or at least, nothing alive.
At the signal, the catapults also released their projectiles, sending the huge rocks sailing through the darkness over the heads of the advancing force. Squinting in the late-dusk light, he was just able to make out the twin plumes of dirt as the huge stones found their marks, each within a dozen feet of the ribbon of smoke that rose from the flatlands. Laril sensed Smith come to stand alongside him, looking out over what he had accomplished.
“There are my beasts now.” He said, pointing the sudden flurry of shadowy shapes that rose up to meet the hovering dragons out of the darkest part of the sky. “One thing, Laril. You said those bandits would serve three purposes, but you only named two. What was the third?”
Laril sighed. “Oh, you should see in a minute. By the way, you and your people got everything you wanted out of that ruin, didn’t you?”
“Yes, we’ve extracted everything we’re going to get. Why?”
“Oh, nothing in particular.” Laril said, taking the pipe from his mouth to tap it against the heel of his boot, never once taking his eyes off the rows and columns of armored forms. “By the time this night is over, I suspect there won’t be much left of the place.”

. . .

Sierthra watched the show down below, clicking her teeth in annoyance. It would off course have been Crim, the one that she had strongly recommended to Kyemen as a bad choice for this operation. But then, she had given that same judgment on all the ones here, except for a very small few. She had been hoping that the somewhat more experienced and level-headed personality of Arya would restrain the younger elf’s enthusiasm, but apparently she was wrong. Instead, he had come bounding from cover, screaming at the top of his lungs, shooting wildly, and lighting up his position like a beacon on the shore for any enemy within a hundred leagues to notice. She snorted, sending out a thin puff of smoke that was instantly outdistanced by her speed. Kyemen might have been the one he had wanted to swear allegiance to, but she knew that she would really be the one to decide if he was worthy of her Rider, and his current level of performance was not cutting it.

She opened her mind to appraise Kyemen of this new situation… and stopped, frowning. As she shot a glance over his shoulder to make sure she wasn’t about to collide with Saphira, something caught her eye. It was like a dark mass on the floor of the flatlands, undulating slightly as if in a wind.
And there was no wind.
Beating her wings forward to check the headlong speed she had been circling with, she prepared a maneuver that would bring her close enough to get a good look…
Just then, the world seemed to explode in a thousand glittering shards as a shimmering crystal dagger was rammed into the back of her head.
Kreeeeeeeeeee
Roaring in pain and surprise, she instinctively winged over into a blind evasive roll, trying to shake off her sudden attacker. The pain lessened slightly, but the attack continued, sending pulsing waves of agony through her brain. It was then that she realized that the attacker was not in her body, but her mind.
Scrambling to try and regain some of the aerial momentum that was so crucial for her talents in the sky, she began setting up the barriers that Glaedr had taught her to erect around his consciousness, slowly beating back the paralyzing mental screech. For a moment, nothing seemed to happen, but then the scream lost some of its intensity, then faded away all together, leaving her slightly dazed and unsteady. She had no idea just where in the sky she was anymore. She found herself flying an unfamiliar direction, directly toward young Salmissra. Immediately, Sierthra could tell something was wrong. Instead of the easy circle she had been assigned, the younger dragon was hovering in place, beating out with claws and tail against three shadowy shapes that wheeled around her like leaves in a whirlwind. Sierthra blinked and shook her head, trying to clear her vision enough to get a good look at these attackers that seemed to have come upon them completely undetected…
At last, one of the shapes disengaged from Salmissra, hovering a short distance away as if studying for the best way to pierce the young dragon’s defense. As it was caught in the very last ray of the sun as it sank before the horizon, Sierthra was at last able to make out what these things were.

For a single blind moment, she took them to be dragons. It took her a full second to realize that, while they were scaled and possessed long, leathery wings, they were much smaller and more serpentine than her own form, with much smaller legs and claws. The scales also were unlike her own, not glittering like any dragon’s, but dull and lifeless in the light, more like flying snakes than anything else.
And even from so far away, she could see the ferocity and madness glittering in its beady, orange eyes.
Upon seeing it, a memory tugged at her. She had heard of or seen such creatures before, she was sure of it. But now was not the time to think about it. She realized now that, in addition to the three that were assailing Salmissra, the sky was in fact filled with the creatures. There were suddenly dozens of them, swarming all around them like the bats she had once seen boiling from the mouth of a cave in the mountains. Just then, one of the creatures swung up nimbly from behind her, swooping down towards her with bared claws as its wings blotted out the early stars.

. . .

Kyemen spun nimbly under the flailing club of his assailant, his sword flashing out in a quick counter-attack. There was a yelp of pain in the darkness as his blade bit into the man’s stomach, punching through the thin armor with ease. Dodging in closer, Kyemen slammed the pommel of his sword into the man’s face, knocking his opponent over and effectively ending the fight.
While the skirmish in the tunnel had been brutal, it had also been brief. Even the enemy’s superior numbers were simply no match for the combined skill of the defenders, especially after Myth and Redfern had come running to the assist, presumably after hearing the noise. Kyemen himself had slain one, and hopefully hadn’t quite managed to kill this second one. Glancing around amid the gloom of the tunnel, he found to his surprise that there was no one left to fight. Only Arwen was still locked in combat with the last standing foe, and even as he watched she neatly disarmed her opponent with one knife, bringing her other knife slashing across the man’s thigh, sending him to his knees. The light of bloodlust glinting in her eye, Arwen crossed both blades above her head, preparing to behead the man who lay helpless before her.

His adrenaline-soaked mind not really thinking, Kyemen threw himself into a tight front-flip, landing neatly between Redfern and the bandit. Bringing his sword up, he blocked both blades with a sharp clang, glaring hard into the girl’s eyes.
“Alive, Arwen. It’s a lot easier to get information out of them that way.” He ground out, his voice low, giving her knives a shove that sent her a step backward, hopefully a safe distance away from the man she was about to kill. Kyemen took a deep breath, lowering his blade. No, he decided, he wasn’t truly angry. He was just starting to get fed up with her wanting to kill everything that moved, disobeying his specific orders. If he did not really expect them to be obeyed, then who else would? Still, there would be time for that later. For now, he now had at least one prisoner to interrogate, just as he had hoped.

Making sure to put on a menacing face, he mentally rekindled the illumination spell, again lighting up the tunnel with the hazy red glow. In its light, Kyemen was able to make out several crumbled bodies scattered around the scene of the fight, most of them at the feet of the members of his team. All of them were still standing, thankfully, and all without major injury, as far as he could tell. This concern at rest, he turned back to his prisoner, affecting a marked scowl. Despite the pain the man was obviously in, he tried to scramble backward as fast as he could, eyes wide with fear. He stopped abruptly however when Kyemen placed his gleaming swordblade against the man’s neck.
“Who are you?” He growled, making sure the light fell across his face in such a way to make him look even more menacing. Whatever his pain, the young man before him was definitely menaced.
“I’m- I’m- mmmm I’m- Clif! Clifton Sykes seh! Please, don’t ‘arm me seh, I didn’t mean nothin’, ‘onest to Earma I didn’t…”
“Is that so?” Kyemen said. “And yet you attacked me and my fellows. That definitely qualifies as something in my book. You’ll have to do better than that.” Kyemen had not thought it possible for this boy’s eyes to grow wider.
He was wrong.
“Nah, I was just actin’ under orders, seh! That was all Jaco’s doing, what wif him bein’ the leader. We was hiding out in here, see, using it as an ‘ideout after those other blokes cleared out. Strange lot they were, never liked the look of ‘em, but after a while, see, Jaco figured they wouldn’t be coming back, so we moved in ‘ere. And then when you came in, ‘e thought you was another gang, here to steal our ‘ideout. That’s why Jaco sent us in ‘ere…”
“Enough.” Kyemen barked, mentally processing what he had learned. So, if this one was telling the truth, these assailants really were just common bandits, and had nothing to do with the third party. For a moment he wondered at this, but decided no, this kid wouldn’t try to lie, not after watching his entire band wiped out with very little effort by five people. A disappointment, but not a disastrous one. Very carefully, he lowered his blade to his side, taking a step back. For his part, Clif seemed surprised. “You… You’re not going ta’ kill me, seh?”
“No Clif.” Kyemen answered, raising his left hand. “Not yet. Waise heil.” He muttered under his breath, accessing a quick healing spell for the young man’s wound. There might yet be some use in him, and it would not serve his conscience to have a prisoner bleed to death out of an easily-repairable wound. Now, he just needed to figure out what to do with him from there.

At that moment, something tickled his nose. Frowning, he looked up, blinking against a fall of dust that was coming down from the ceiling of the tunnel…
Like a bolt of lightning, Kieran’s words flashed to mind.
Let’s hope we don’t hit them in here, ‘cause this ain’t about to stand a lotta movement.
He realized now that the flip that had carried him over here might have nicked one of the tunnel’s support struts. That, coupled with all the other fighting that had just been done in here…
“Everybody move!” He screamed at the top of his lungs, he himself diving for the entrance to the larger chamber…
All at once, the world seemed to disappear, replaced by falling dust and a thunderous roaring sound. Something large and hard struck him in the back, sending him down on his stomach with a pained oomph and knocking the sword from his hands, blotting out the light. The roar continued all around him as the air filled with choking dust, filling his mouth and nose. Something heavy pelted the back of his legs, but he didn’t really feel it. Finally, the roar ceased, leaving the world in complete and total silence.

After what had to have been minutes, Kyemen stirred, coughing violently in an attempt to clear his lungs of the cloying dust that swirled in the air all around him. He found oddly that he couldn’t move. Wrenching his head around awkwardly, he discovered the cause.
As he had feared, the tunnel had collapsed. Where the entrance had been, there was now only a pile of dirt and rubble. There would be no getting out of the ruin that way.
Incidentally, it was also burying him from the waist down.
For a moment, he merely lay there, trying to collect his thoughts. Finally, trying to force air into his lungs, he called out into the dust-choked darkness.
“Hello? Did anyone make it out? Answer if you can hear me!”[/size][/blockquote]

[KYOU KANZAKI]

{ FEEL IT COMIN' IN THE AIR AND THE SCREAMS FROM EVERYWHERE }
I'M ADDICTED TO THE THRILL
- - - - - - IT'S A DANGEROUS LOVE AFFAIR

The girl was still looking into the darkness, her blue ball of flame in her hand while a sharp sword in another. To her annoyance, she heard someone say,

Might you put that light out? I was hoping that the one other woman among us would have some shred of common sense, but I appear to be wrong. Perhaps next time, Straethir, you’ll choose your team members based on intelligence rather than looks- ooh.

That done it and Arwen turned around to snap with quiet anger. Oh, just shut your trap. Old hag. The girl grumbled while rolling her eyes. She turned the light off with a wave of her hand though, just in case. Her eyes adjusted to the dark quickly but it was still hard to see. Unsheathing her other sword with her free hand, she quietly made her way towards Daran. He seemed the quietest out of all of them and he looked...well, kinder. It was sudden, but loud in her mind when she heard Crim yell into her mind. Like, screaming more like it. She gave a wince and stopped on her tracks. Her eyes widened slightly, taking in the information.

There was a diversion, an unknown number probably small slipped in through the hole, they used a fake bush as cover, they should probably be there shortly due to the amount of time left...SHIT one sec"

She blinked in the dark, feeling slightly annoyed that he was in such a rush. She was about to tell Kyemen what she had heard before Daran whispered to her. She gave a nod, her eyes locking on to his. Well, it looked as if she wasn't the first to know what was happening. Right. He was the guy with the dragon! She then felt a little bit clearer in her mind as she gravitated towards him more. She whispered back, Crim says that there's an attack above...and I think he's hyperventilating or something. He sounded as if he was in a rush. she added flatly with a look of amusement in her eye. She saw Kyemen stop for a moment, talking to a bunch of people before looking alert. She raised her head up and saw the flash of metal going towards them. He had knocked away an arrow that had been shot towards him. Filled with anger, she whipped around to see who the bloody bastard was. The girl ran towards the target she had spotted while dodging the arrows, and slashed her sword at him. It cut an arrow neatly in half, missing the man on purpose. A demonic like gleam entered into her eyes as she gutted him in the stomach, leaving him to die. Upon killing the man, she heard a shout. An angry yell coming her way and rolled her eyes while she kicked the man without looking and slit his throat easily. She giggled like a little girl while watching another man come at her with a larger sword in hand. He made a slash towards her and with quick feet, Arwen knocked him flat on the ground and cut off his arm while she was at it. After that, she beheaded him without another thought.

The girl was ruthless, and it seemed she was on a killing spree. If you listened carefully, she was counting the numbers of kills. It was at twelve now, so it seemed and she was about to make her thirteenth kill before she felt a blade ram into hers. Her blue eyes blazed angrily while looking into the eyes of an annoyed and angry looking Kyemen. She made a small backflip, snarling at him while skidding back. He had told her angrily about wanting this man alive. The girl stood up tall, her blue eyes darkening a bit. She didn't say anything as she glared darkly at the man. A cruel like smile appeared on her face as she slowly understood. Giving the man a toothy smile, she said sweetly,

Interrogation, right? Just tell me if you need help getting information out. Her blue eyes landed on the man who was shaking. Kyemen healed him and Arwen's smile just got wider. Torture. That was the way to go, the girl had thought with a sadistic smile on her face. Her smile turned into a frown as she noticed the man shivering and looking scared out of his wits. That was odd. He didn't sound like he was lying at all. Just another bandit. A confused look crossed her face. They were just fighting a bunch of reckless, stupid bandits? Anger was replaced, while her pretty face turned annoyed and she folded her arms. She blinked when she heard a noise from above. Some dirt fell onto her shoulder, alarming her slightly. Looking up, her eyes widened slightly as she heard Kyemen scream for everyone to run. Well, move. She ran, fast. She was about to pass Kyemen before she saw him fall. She skidded to a halt before going back.

Hey! Get up! she yelled out, trying to pry the boulder off the man. It managed to budge, but he wasn't getting up. She turned around violently, trying to catch a glimpse of everyone else. Everything was brown and then black. She ducked her head and tried her best to doge a few of the boulders that were raining down at her. She managed to hide in a small hole, waiting for the boulders to stop. After a while, it did and when she got out she found that she was almost alone. She blinked, trying to see. It was dark. So, she created another blue flame, holding it high in the air. Coughing, the dust swirled around her. Gingerly stepping on a few blocks of rock, she made her way towards Kyemen who was trapped underneath a bunch of rubble. He shouted, and she knew he was probably blind from the darkness. She shouted back.

It's Arwen! I'm here! She slowly made her way towards him. She stopped beside him and tugged at the rocks around him. Her blue eyes looked up and locked on to his own eyes. Can you feel anything? Can you move your legs? she asked rather quickly, worry filling her face. Her hand was raised lower, the blue flame flickered while hovering on her hand. She looked at the bunch of rocks while prying a few of them off with a hand. It was rather heavy and Arwen didn't exactly know what to do in this situation. Biting her bottom lip, she looked at him.

Know any spells that can get rid of these rocks any faster?

words lalaa. Who knows? tagged OP1 ppl notes OUTFIT. && this is gonna be fun for arwen.
template PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION

[//|:Crim~Harrowmont:|\\]

A faint whistling, that grew to a roar. it was all the warning he had before he noticed a smallish boulder plowing into the earth not half a league to his right. in a flash his bow was on his back. in turn he had drawn his blade. the perfect blade. sung by himself from the very essence of power. its numerous folded edges were the perfect edge.

in a stance he centered himself on the path afore the entrace. his tunic supple and glistening in the light as it was leahter. the flowing ends and sudden angles caught the light. the black and white mixing with the sky and earth as if in a dance. again he heard a whistle and located the boulder with his mind.

his angled face and angled body turned to face the boulder as he saw three more in the sky. falling towards the land as devils from on high. raising a hand he uttered a spell. Jierda. one stone broke into numerous fragments, having found the shatterpoint of the rock. the rest were of no threat to him or Arya. his seldom and suddenly focused eyes turned to the way he himself had entered the clearing.

there marched a company of soldiers, 300 spears strong. unbeatable odds. he quickly contacted Kyemen through his mind.

"sir, there is a company three hundred strong, they looked trained, and well armed, i shall provide some resistance then fall back towards you, where they will have to funnel into the cavern."

Crim drew his sword and held it, half of it obscuring his face with its graceful edges and green brown tint it looked like a true elven sword. he waited a three step as the soldiers drew nearer. he threw caution to the wind and contacted Arya.
"do what you wish, ill stay a while."

and with that he stepped forward. the trees offered the soldiers protection, and cover. some of the three hundred had seen him and raised the cry. soon a thunder filled the air. as many men moved in trying to get the first kill. somewhere an archer raised his bow.

crim walked forward. entering a defense stance that made him shuffle slightly. the first men were upon him. a reverse of the wrist followed by arching his back upwards and then to the left as he spun lightly on his back leg, he sliced in a arc opposite his body, blood spilled as he scored an wound on the mans arm. drawing the front leg from the ground toward him to avoid the chop at his leg that followed was natural. he then did a move rotating his sword horizantal to the ground he followed through, lopping the head from the mans shoulders. his comrades had reached him. spinning in an arc Crim kicked dirt into the eyes of one and brought the sword into an upper cut like slice, scoring a minor slash along one mans side. then shying back he pointed the sword at the last mans face when an arrow appeared out of nowhere, burying itself into the guys face. dropping him back. Crim saw the hundreds more advancing and started feinting and retreating back slightly. he drew and baited many towards him. in total as he retreated he counted each killed. thirteen men, one woman. he had actually slain one spell caster as well.

Crims Tunic entered shade as he entered the shade cast by the fortress ruins, he entered the hole not knowing if Arya had or not, assuming she had since he did not see her.
he turned and retreated now the enemy was in for a surprise, hopefully Kyemen had set up a welcome party....

[Lady Nayeli]

The whole day could not be more beautiful, well, maybe it was just me and my whole mind set that the world was something that needed to be protected and looked after, but the sunset was beyond control when it came to my own emotions towards it. I could not help but allow a slight smile to grace my lips as I moved towards the ruins of the city. Nayeli and I had both agreed to go onto two separate operations, having both known about them, it knew it was best. Osiris was with her and I had already run my idea about the training exercise I wanted her to go on. It would take a few months, to at least get her started on using a ancient language and begin her use of magic, but I was prepared to do the training to get her started, then once we returned, we could continue without a problem.

I felt the brown draft stallion under me moving with a gentle ease as I looked ahead, knowing that I had but a few miles to go. He stayed at a constant lope, which allowed him a chance to move freely, but not wear himself down to much. Once I was done I would help him by giving him some of my energy and then allowing him to drink and graze on the grass that would hopefully be around. If not, then I would have to raise some myself, in order to allow him to feast. The sun was setting, allowing the darkened sky to take over and making many people hard of seeing, but that was something about a elf that I loved… No, I could not see my best during the night, but I could see further then the humans.

I felt a presence touch my mind, though I am not sure the other realized they had, since my mind is always open to the world, unless I have to bring it back and block it off. It was a mighty being and as I searched the sky, I saw what seemed to be a green blur in the dark sky, but even I was unsure. I nudged the horse faster, feeling his muscle bunch under me to lengthen his stride and go faster, causing a canter to emerge from his body. As I grew closer, I felt the presence of others around me and I saw the group as I came over the slight hill. I pulled my stallion to a halt, patting his sweaty side and dismounting him. I kept my hand over his heart, putting some of my own energy into the young beast and feeling his breathing relax and calm. I smiled and turned towards the group and pulled by brown hood from my face, allowing my black hair to show, my old emerald eyes, and my pointed ears. My hair was pulled back into a braid, leading down my back to about my hip, but it was not decorated like many elves did. I was actually plain looking, compared to others of my race.

”Mighty Rider, Kyemen… I am here to serve you and do as you wish to make this operation a success.”

[/color] He acknowledged me just like he did the others and I turned my eyes to the group, allowing my eyes to find out who I was working with and who I could trust. I had been with the Varden since it was created and I had helped the elves for many years, most of my life and now I was part of the empire, though to them I was at least… I was just helping Nayeli get her training and then helping her find her place in the world, which I knew was as a Free Dragon Rider and not a slave to the King. Nayeli was too strong willed to be in the hands of that brute of a King and Osiris was too hotheaded to take the man’s bull for much longer. I did not blame Osiris, his mother was killed and he felt the pain of her own rider’s death.

Now, my inspection of the group… Kyeman… A strong rider and someone I felt I could already trust, since he was a Varden Rider I knew that the group was being lead will and being held onto perfectly. His dragon I was sure was high above somewhere and I had a feeling she was taking care of things perfectly. Arwen… A friend and also someone who was getting into her own form of trouble. I would have to make sure my mind was connect to her’s since we were both friends and I was always one to tell her and Nayeli to calm down. It was not a hard thing to do with them and not at all surprising, since that occurred more times then once. Crim… A flirt, in my own eyes I just keep a close eye on him as he spoke to Arwen and winked at her. I felt it my own duty to protect Arwen also, but I kept my place on the outside of the group. Ra’Quaden… More cruel then anything, he was already getting on my nerves as the night was passing on slowly. I hated the thought that someone could be so cruel, but then again, I knew many more who were far worse, such as the stupid King himself. Kieran… Somewhat slow as he began the operation, but he seemed to fit on in and I could not help but wonder to myself how he had ended up on this operation. He and Kyemen seemed to be butting head, or at least, they did not speak to each other much. Laioni… A Varden Elf and Witch and someone who I had seen around during my time serving Nasuada and her father. Daran and his Dragon, though I did not see his Dragon, Salmissra, I could feel her strong presence around me.

I did not know all the people, men or women, but some I knew and I did not mind working them, but now it came to working and everything was moving. I did not bring the draft horse, but went to him, touching his side and speaking to him in the ancient language, telling him to move away and come back at sunset. Like all animals, he understood and moved away from the area as fast as he could. I then headed towards the fort, being instructed to guard the gates with the other elves, which I knew would not be hard. I made a point to touch my mind to Arwen and make sure she knew who it was before focusing on my job. My sword was firmly in my hands and I looked around, hearing the commotion come up around me from the walls and wanting to go in, but knowing my place.

As I turned my head again, before me, upon the hills was a large army, nearly breathe taking to a young Soldier, but I was experienced in fighting large numbers, all it took was some magic and how to bring in the energy from the dying.

[/blockquote]
Word Count: 1.204
Tagged: Kymen & Siertha, Arwen, Crim, Ra’Quaden, Kieran, Laioni, Daran & Salmissra
Comments: Emmz invited me to take Ayra's place I believe. If I missed something that should have been mentioned in the post, please tell me what and when and where it needed to be mentioned.
Characer to used and Code: Pylar the Elf
Speaking[/color]
Speaking through the mind[/color]
Speaking Ancient Language[/b][/color][/blockquote][/size]

[Wild Dog]

The woods were silent for a time. The ruins had such a legacy that animals tended to shy away from it. Ra’Quden was sitting on a log, dicing. Ever since he officially joined the Dicers, his luck increased. People did not know this. They thought it was nonsense, people having their luck magnified. Ra’Quden though, knew the truth. When new recruits joined the ranks, a blessing, or curse, was put upon them. With a link of thirteen magicians, the oath, and curse, was placed on the person. Ra’Quden, had it forced upon him. Now, his luck seemed greatly increased. When he was looking for someone, he would bump into that person, seemingly at random. Things seem to happen that beat all odds. Good or bad things. Pointing towards their name, dice seemed to be the tell tale sign. Every time they rolled, five sixes always faced up at them. Every time Ra’Quden flipped a dice, the same thing happened.

This was not on his mind though, it was one of the people, inside. Kieran. Before Ra’Quden signed up for this quest, he did a background check on its people. Kieran, was a known sympathizer to the Hive. Maybe even had ties to it. The Hive, the only real threat to the Dicers. Another criminal organization ruling the underworld. The Dealer made it painfully clear that anybody with connections to the Hive, be killed immediately. Ra’Quden, however, would do anything to put a thorn in the Dealer’s foot. Generally, he ignored him. Still thinking on how to handle him. Right at that moment, he was planning on how to get involved with the Hive, especially the spy network. For his own plans, of course. Rolling the die again, he growled at the sixes. The Dealer was certainly a thorn in his foot. Sending him to this mad dash, just to get him out of the way. Reaching the power within him, he melted the dice to a puddle. It glistened and slid off the rock. The rest of the crew were little in his eyes. He respected Crim, a little, but he reminded him of an elf. The other elves, especially Pylar, filled him with a rage familiar with his whole life. Kymen, he respected, a little. Ra’Quden would follow him to the ends of the earth. The other dragon rider, Daran and Salmissra, he also respected.

Cursing everybody, living or dead, he sat up. He was supposed to be on guard duty. Him and the other fellow, Crim, and the lady, were told to guard the ruins. From what?! Little fury animals?! Nothing lives around here. Nothing. Ra’Quden almost took a nap, when a sound pooped out of the woods. Drawing his hilt, he ignited the blade. He upgraded, now he had an elven blade. The blade was melting, though. A bird flew into view. That’s it. He grabbed his power well, and the bird burst into flames. It was quite beautiful. The bird streaked across the sky, with a flame tail.

His luck, changed everything. A second bird, flying up from the trees, ran into the flaming one. The two then careened down a hill. Though, at that distance, he couldn’t see the birds anymore. A comet fading in the distance. The next thing that happened, made Ra’Quden curse again. A large, whooshing sound caught him, and he looked up. Just in time to dodge. Rolling out of the way, the elf peered up the crater formed just a few seconds ago. A large boulder seemingly out from nowhere, crashed down. Cursing yet again, he leaped up and grabbed his hilt. The blade, long ago melted off, was of no consequence. He manipulates fire to form a blade. It melts through steel, wood, or anything but elven blades. Something in the metal makes fire not melt it. Though, a sword might not be the best thing for the time.

Peering into the distance, he tried to locate the next boulder. Finally, another came within view. Ra’Quden grabbed his power, and was about to destroy it, when is self-destructed. The elf would bet anything that one of the other watchers did it, maybe Crim. Then, another came into view. Where Ra’Quden stood, it seemed to be going right where he was. Grabbing the power, he shouted the ancient words, and a ball of fire appeared on his palm. Tightening the fire, he made it solid. Then he flung it at the rock. When it struck, he released the pressure he was exerting, and the ball of fire exploded. The rock disintegrated, almost. A few pebbled rained down, but nothing dramatic. Then, he saw them. A whole army marching down on them. Assuming that crim already contacted Kyeman, he ran towards the cave opening, seeing crim leave, he turned around. Right into another soldier. Igniting his sword, he rode him through. Another took his place. Twisting around, he sliced the guy and fell into his stance. The soldiers seemed to back off, so he got a chance to see where they were coming. Right up the hill that the flaming birds flew down. If his luck was as true as he knew, that meant that he alerted the soldiers of their presence. Course, he could be assuming a lot.

“Pylar, get out of here. I will try and distract them a little. Go down and see if Kyeman needs help. He must have something planned, once I am done, I will follow you” Ra’Quden’s plan, however, was a little different then what he told the other elf. He wanted to run away, leading some of the soldiers, but he didn’t want to be locked in the ruins. He was going to execute his plan, though, when another magician changed his. Many more rocks fell from the sky. Ra’Quden, changed tactics. Seeing that the woods looked dry, he ignited them. The blazing inferno made smoke, lots of it. Coughing, he continued down the path, toward Kyeman.

Of course, the tunnel had to be blocked off. Ra'Quden swore and turned around. An army in front of him, dead end behind.

"Don't go, the bloody tunnel is collapsed" He shouted to Pylar. Around him, the forest continued to burn. The magicians tried to douse it, but they underestimated him. Controlling the fire, he made it resilient to their efforts. It will burn hell or high water.

[Ze Flying Wraithetti Monstress]

This ridiculous little party was proving to be much more amusing than I’d expected.

Besides Kyemen Straethir’s complete lack of any sort of direction or confidence and the bumbling mindlessness that shortly followed, the utter stupidity of the half-elf, and Kolbjorn’s oddly low intelligence level, it was the interactions that were the most amusing. Kolbjorn and Straethir hated each other with such a wonderfully burning passion. Sparks seemed to fly whenever their gazes met. Redfern was flirting with every male on the operation except Kolbjorn- she wouldn’t stop batting those enormous blue eyes at Straethir, probably interested in his power. Well, at least she had ambition, even though Straethir didn’t seem interested in her in the least. And then, of course, was the fact that she hated me, which I was going to milk for all its worth.

“Crim says that there’s an attack above...and I think he's hyperventilating or something,” the half-elf happened to ramble at that very moment. So Harrowmont chose to send that sort of message to her rather than the group leader? He was certainly desperate. “He sounded as if he was in a rush.”

I didn’t pay much mind to what she’d said, considering it was a surface attack and therefore posed no risk to me, until I noticed that Straethir had frozen, listening. I cocked my head and did the same, and then readied myself when I heard the noise. First, the deceptively soft patter of feet as they struck wet dirt, and then the twangs and hisses of bows being shot and arrows flying through the air. The first one had the misfortune to hit Straethir’s sword instead of him, and he immediately extinguished the light emanating from it. The darkness made no difference to me, as I had applied my night vision directly to my eyes. Instead, I leapt to the side, narrowly missing Kolbjorn as he was violently pushed towards relative safety by Straethir. More arrows hissed through the air, and I took shelter behind one of the wooden planks holding up the tunnel.

I reached for the black pool of magic in the back of my head, but paused when I saw our assailants rushing towards us. I didn’t use any magic, instead watching to see who they were. Within moments, though, as Redfern jumped into the fray with the bloodthirst of the miserable dog she was, the fact that the attackers had hit no one and their untrained movements made something apparent to me- this was not the third party. These were either treasure hunters or bandits. But then, if they were, they’d have never attacked out of sheer greed, no matter how strong. They must have seen that nearly all of us were elves, not to mention the two dragons circling overhead. They were either mind-shatteringly idiotic or they had been bribed- or blackmailed- into doing this. Either way, they were not worth my power, so I let the others do the fighting.

A snarl of pain from nearby made me glance at Kolbjorn huddled against the tunnel wall, fiddling with an arrow that had lodged itself in his left arm. With a few creative swear words and a grunt, he shoved the arrow all the way through, broke off the head, and yanked the shaft out. Tossing it aside, he approached one swordsman with surprising stealth, reached up and grabbed him by the jaw, twisting his head around with a loud crack. He blocked a sword blow with the man’s lifeless body before punching his second assailant in the abdomen, making the man stumble, breathless. Then Kolbjorn engaged in a series of very fast moves with his feet and fists before landing a kick to the man’s throat. Ah, so he utilized those eastern martial arts I had heard so much about. Redfern was more than holding her own with a rising body count- although considering how poorly trained these men were, that was no surprise- and looked very eager to kill every last person in this tunnel before Straethir firmly stopped her with his blade.

“Alive, Arwen. It’s a lot easier to get information out of them that way.” He shoved her away with obvious distaste, but she just bounced back, oblivious to his annoyance, smiling and batting her eyes and trying to get herself noticed.
“Interrogation, right? Just tell me if you need help getting information out.”
“Does anyone else feel the urge to vomit on account of the half-elf?” I sneered, stepping out from where I’d sheltered. “No? ‘Tis just me?”
“Who are you?” snarled Straethir, in an almost convincing effort to be frightening.
“I’m- I’m- mmmm I’m- Clif! Clifton Sykes seh! Please, don’t ‘arm me seh, I didn’t mean nothin’, ‘onest to Earma I didn’t…”

I might have paid attention to the following conversation if I hadn’t noticed the sudden vibrations around us. After all, the bandit, though his accent was comparable to spewed garbage, seemed petrified by the decidedly unimpressive Varden Rider. I frowned, gazing at the dead and the wounded, before remembering my thoughts during the attack. If they’d been sent to do this, surely their benefactor would have known that they’d stand no chance against us? Unless, of course, he’d sent them to their demise on purpose, perhaps as a distraction… or, I thought, gazing up at the sudden amount of dust particles falling from the ceiling, to be rid of both parties in a more creative way. By the time Straethir was shouting at everyone to run, I had already reached for my magic and was chanting, knowing there was no chance I’d get to any sort of shelter in time.

“Reithr du adurna un lesta du deloi!”

It was difficult to control the magic amidst the chaos, but I proved to be successful. I vaporized the high amounts of liquid in the tunnel, turning it into hot, violent air that I forced away from me, creating a miniature sonic blast that made the rubble blow clear, rendering me untouched. I paid no mind to the further damage it caused, as the tunnel was in ruins anyway. Once the dust had cleared, I got a good look around. Straethir was up to his waist in dirt, while Redfern was entirely unsuccessfully trying to get him free. Kolbjorn had hidden underneath two wooden planks he’d fashioned into an arch that had kept him clear of the worst of the cave-in. I couldn’t see Vorandeer anywhere, though.

“Hello?” Straethir choked, apparently blinded by the dust. “Did anyone make it out? Answer if you can hear me!”
“It’s Arwen!” the demon child shrieked. “I’m here!”
“I, too, have survived… though little surprise there,” I muttered, flicking an irritating pebble off my shoulder.
“I’m here!” came Vorandeer’s voice from somewhere behind us.
“Can you feel anything? Can you move your legs?” Redfern’s face was clouded with fear and hopelessness as she did absolutely nothing to help Straethir out of his predicament. “Know any spells that can get rid of these rocks any faster?”
“Back to the slave pens where you were bred, you motherless dog,” I crooned as I approached, hugely entertained with the girl’s consistently moronic nature. “Did your human master let you off the leash? Crawl back under his table. Perhaps he’ll throw you a bone to gnaw on.” Chuckling at her and her miserable reactions and comebacks, but not fool enough to turn my back on her, I touched Straethir’s burning forehead, letting my mind trace his body. He had sustained lacerations, abrasions, and a badly broken leg, but there appeared to be no permanent injuries. He’d survive.
“Well, lllladies,” said Kolbjorn, coughing and wincing and looking properly annoyed. “I can see puttin’ your melons in his face is doin’ him a helluva load of good.” He grabbed Straethir underneath the arms and pulled with no small effort, obviously in pain from the arrow wound he’d sustained. He did, however, pull the Rider free, and deposit him on the ground before dusting himself off.
“Thanks…” said Straethir, sitting himself up.
“Don’t mention it,” muttered Kolbjorn.
“And especially with your arm-”
“Ever,” the older elf cut him off irritably.
“Well…” Straethir cleared his throat. “We’re all alive. What’s the situ- AAH, by the-” he broke off, grabbing his injured leg as I manipulated the bones, focusing on mending them instead of the Rider’s pain. Still, I couldn't help but curl my lip at his wincing and moaning as I set the leg right and healed it.
“Situation...?” the Rider whimpered, before glaring at me.
“Craptastic,” grumbled Kolbjorn, motioning to the enormous pile of rubble where the tunnel entrance used to stand. “Jus’ like me to frickin’ jinx it. Only way out is to go further in. The hell I’ll give that goddam Thieves’ Guild…” he trailed off.
“It would appear, then, that we have little choice,” I said, tossing my black locks over my shoulder and fixing the bangs to appear a little more tidy. “What are our orders, sir Straethir?”

Words;; 1500
Muse;; Pretty good!
Thoughts;; It's not half bad. ^^

[Kite]

*Salmissra was having a good time, actually. She was just flying, and thats just what she loves. She really loves flying with her Daran, but she will never tell him that. She enjoys being a pain to him too much, but she knows that he loves her and the same goes to that little sweatball that she was stuck with until they died.

Still, she had to focus. Thats something she had learned from this sort of thing. Pay attention. She had been focused more on her thoughts than looking for a moment, and that had nearly caused her to miss the thing that Sierthra probably saw just moments before. An army was below them, with siege engines and everything, and had started to throw stones at the lookout spot Crim and the other two had had. Probably because of that idiot.

However, noticing the army that she was on the lookout for distracted her more that her thoughts on the relationship between her and Daran.

Kreeeeeeeeeee

The thought and sound and screech burned its way through her mind as she connected to Daran's, and caused her to spasm and fall some feet. When she regained control of her muscles and her surprised mind, she regained her beat and looked up, to see three fliers around her. They seemed like dragons, but they were different in a few ways. They were about her size right now, but they seemed fully grown to her while she was still young. They were also just... different. They were feral, not intelligent.

These flying snakes were troublesome to her calm. Thats all they were. Snakes with unkept scales, cured leather wings, small legs, and beady little eyes. She roared loud and defiant as they began to circle her, and they began the laborious actions of aerial combat.

They were striking at her mainly in the back and sides, scratching her but not truly injuring her yet. And she had the frame of mind to catch a pattern in their attack. They always flew around her at different angles, but the angles were fairly predictable. That, coupled with the speed they were moving around her always meant one was following the other, meant that after a few passes, she began to lash out at her foes, using her deadly claws and whip-like tail to swipe at them as they passed.

This began to stagger them, making them unable to retaliate, and Salmissra developed this into a defense that not only knicked them constantly but kept them off her at the same time. It was working quite well, and then one slipped away ass the others kept fighting her. She had to concentrate to keep her rythem going, however, so she could not observe the third who had to be observing her.

To battle this, instead of her just cutting her next one, she let loose with her leg as the next one passed, catching the serpent in the chest with her claw and leg, knocking the screeching ball of poison out of the sky. She felt a victory roar fill her up, but as she rose her head to let it out, it died in her throat. She then saw the dozens of slimeballs around herself and Sierthra, and one in particular moving to attack Sierthra from behind. In her moment of respite, she called out to Sierthra quickly before returning to her own fight and the other slithering pustule who had rejoined the
fray.*

Sierthra, Behind and above you!

----

*The fight began, and Arwen lost her cool.

That was the most bothersome part of the fight. They had expected people to be there, and had expected the fight that had came through the warning.They had all been able to fight, and they had all taken their fair share of enemies. They all performed admirably.

Except for Arwen.

Arwen was a force to be reckoned with, apparantly, with her whirling style and her body count, but she was not enviable. She was too erratic. She was too unpredictable. And, finally, she was too undisciplined. She just didn't understand even the basics, and it made Daran angry. Crim made Daran angry, and he was reaching the point of over saturation.

The problem was they just didn't understand basic operations. They didn't understand that being as individual as they were, ramboing and giving in to their lust, was detrimental to their team. They were not team players, and that was what made them unable to be in this environment. If this had been an excercise, he would have them flogged and removed from training. If he was Kyemen he would have reigned them in by now. But he was not, and he was sure as hell not going to say anything. Yet.

As Kyemen stops her from killing the last man, and she rambles on about interrogation, it was difficult for him to hold his temper. He did however, and he listened to what the bandit had to say. What it was was slightly disturbing, as they were not truly the force that they seemed to have been looking for. They were, for lack of a better term, squatters.

However, two things fairly important happened to him and the group. Firstly, there was Salmissra's touch to his mind and, as he let her magnificent partner in, he heard and felt the screech that had so affected her. He cried out quietly with the shock and staggered towards the stairs down, falling to his knees and his mind blocking itself off as strongly as possible.

And, while he was still recovering, the ground shook and the cave's roof fell in. He was not hit hard by the first couple pieces, but they knocked him into the stairway that had stayed intact.

There he lay for a few more moments, regaining his wits and his body, and he heard a faint call, before he regained the clarity to hear Kyemen say something like "...f you could hear me." Daran got the gist of it, however, and called out after Arwen's annoying call and Laioni's sarcastic statement.*

I'm here!

*He pushed himself up as the rest moved over to the partly covered Kyemen, and made it there as Kieran helped Kyemen out. He had heard Arwen's statement, and Laioni's insults and secretly he agreed with Laioni. He didn't say anything, no. He wants to keep team unity as high as he can, and he helped no one by letting his thoughts out, but he agreed none the less. As Kyemen begins to talk about the situation, before being cut off by his leg being reset, and Kieran's statement that the only way was to continue, Daran spoke softly, rubbing his throat a little as it was hoarse from the pain of the mental attack and from the dust kicked up by the cave in.*

Kieran is right, Kyeman. We have to go deeper. At least we know, however, that this was not the only entrance. Surely we can leave and regroup... Incidentally, does anyone see Clif?

*Daran looks around where they were for any sign of the man they had captured, hoping he could guide them out of the base that the bandits called their home. He also reached out to Salmissra carefully, and spoke through their connection.*

Salmissra?

*He felt her snap back and grunt over the link, before shooting out with a quick thought.*

Fighting flying serpants. Army outside. Busy!

*Daran blinks for a moment at that and looks to Kyemen.*

Kyemen... What is Sierthra saying of the situation outside?

[Angmor]

It was funny, the things that came to mind in the aftermath of an extreme stress situation. His blood thick with adrenaline, Kyemen found his mind darting a thousand different directions at once, and most of them leading to totally unrelated details. He found himself worried about the fate of a document on his desk that he hadn’t signatured, yet, a misdemeanor that would have Nasuada very annoyed with him when he got back. It was but one of several totally irrelevant concerns sparking through his perception like fireworks. Even so, he was still able to keep track of everything going on around him with a kind of clarity that startled him, as if he was watching it entirely from outside himself as an idle entertainment. Even though he was no stranger to these sorts of situations, he still found it slightly disturbing.
I must have hit my head a lot harder than I thought…

[/Color]

Arwen was the first to answer. She had been standing close to the tunnel exit, so he wasn’t particularly surprised. She didn’t look much the worse for wear for the ordeal as she scrambled up to him, making him wince as his eyes adjusted to the too-bright blue light she had summoned, rendering the scene around him in a ghostly brilliance. For a second he was treated to an uncomfortably close view of her fair, worry-pinched face, until she started to struggle ineffectively at the rocks pinning him down. He was vaguely aware that she was saying something to him, but for some reason he found himself distracted by the hypnotic beauty of the swirling motes of dust amid the light…
He must have blacked out at that point, because the next thing he was aware of a light touch on his forehead, preceding a much heavier touch of his mind, feeling like a slithering fever through his brain as it probed around with a distinct feeling of an assessing presence. It then withdrew before he could marshal any kind of defense to drive it out. At last, he became fully aware, shuddering violently in the wake of the mental touch. Opening eyes he hadn’t realized he’d closed, he found both Arwen and Laioni leaning over him at a rather… interesting angle. He frowned. Was he still out, and dreaming this? After all, he had never been fretted over by women before, and he couldn’t think of any possible reason why they would be doing it now…
His rescue came, rather unexpectedly, in the form of Kieran’s voice cutting through his perception like a sharp blade.
“Well, lllladies, I can see puttin’ your melons in his face is doin’ him a helluva load of good.”
Kieran’s now familiar face hove in out of the shadows beyond his field of vision. For a brief second, a dark stain was highlighted in the illumination coming from Redfern’s hand, pointing out a deep puncture wound in Kieran’s bicep. Immediately Kyemen berated himself for being too slow in getting the gangster clear of the archery fire. If he had just reacted a little faster…
He felt himself seized by a strong pair of arms just under the shoulders. Kieran instantly succeeded where both women had failed, pulling him from the rubble with all the alacrity of a cork from an elven wine bottle. He looked up into the older elf’s face, searching for some kind of appropriate grateful remark. In the end, the simple plan was best.
“Thanks…” He said, still sounding rather dazed.
Kieran’s lip twisted characteristically. “Don’t mention it…”
“And especially with your arm-“
“Ever.”
Kyemen sighed. So much for his heartfelt apology. That was Kieran all over.
He coughed again, clearing most of the dust from his lungs. Right, time to get moving again…[/Color] He squared his shoulders, gathering his legs underneath him to get to his feet…
And watched in helpless fascination as his right leg bent at the knee, flopping uncontrollably in a direction it was most definitely not designed to go.

He stared dumbly down at the broken limb, an expression of mild concern on his face. It was fairly obvious what had happened. Somehow a smallish rock had gotten to be right under him, probably directly below the knee. As the rest of the ceiling came down on him, another rock must have come down on his foot. With this as the force and the smaller rock acting as a fulcrum, it had snapped his leg like an overburdened lever.
Strangely, there was no pain. He merely found it strangely fascinating, in a morbid sort of way. Adrenaline was an absolutely magical thing.
“Well…” He said at last, pulling his attention away from the injury as he searched his mind for the best way to heal it. “We’re all alive. What’s the situ- AAH, by the-” He got no further before Laioni pounced, her face demonically smug as she laid a delicate finger on his maimed leg, apparently using magic to start aligning the bone back into its natural position.
This Kyemen actually felt.
He squirmed, not quite able to lock a cry of pain behind his lips as he felt that every nerve ending from his waist down was being twisted out of recognition, while at the same time being jabbed by a thousand impossibly cold needles. It was quite obvious that Laioni was not the slightest bit concerned with his comfort during this process. Worse than that, her magic just felt somehow… wrong, as if it was tainting his soul by its very touch.
Finally, the bone snapped back into place with a wet crunch, making him groan loudly through clenched teeth, feeling a single tear leaking from his eye. After a few brief seconds of repairing all the important nerves, blood-vessels, and bits of cartilage, she finally removed her magic from him, leaving him whimpering in pain, but with a functional leg. Kyemen summoned his strongest glare, groping for the very most blistering of human profanities he had ever known…
And didn’t find any. “Situation…?” He said instead, his voice sounding high and strained as he rediscovered his previous thought. He had been out of it far too long. He was the one who had led everyone here into this mess, and it was up to him to lead them all out again, and that meant getting the lay of the land after this sudden shift.
Luckily, Kieran seemed to be the resident cartographer.
“Craptastic,” He spat, giving his professional opinion. “Jus’ like me to frickin’ jinx it. Only way out is to go further in. The hell I’ll give that goddam Thieves’ Guild…”
“It would appear, then, that we have little choice,” Put in Laioni, preening. “What are our orders, sir Straethir?”
“Kieran is right, Kyemen.” Said Daran, who Kyemen noticed had rejoined the group in that no-fuss, unobtrusive way of his. “We have to go deeper. At least we know, however, that this was not the only entrance. Surely we can leave and regroup... Incidentally, does anyone see Clif?”
Kyemen felt his gut flip. In the rapid-fire rush of new happenings, he had entirely forgotten about Clif and the rest of the band. He scrambled to his feet, wincing slightly when he put weight on his newly healed leg. Even if it was now fully functional, he could still somehow feel Laioni’s magic within him, like some clinging, dark presence. He couldn’t quite suppress a violent shudder of distaste.
Focus. Get a grip already. You’ve got too much to do right now than worry about some hussy with a dark touch.[/Color]
He did not need to look far for his sword. He found it a few feet away, glinting darkly in Redfern’s werelight. Breathing a sigh of relief that it hadn’t been buried under the rubble, he flipped the blade into the air with one foot, the hilt meeting his outstretched hand with a satisfying smack of leather on leather. As his fingers closed, the spell he had placed was instantly reset, causing the blade to glow red once again. Turning, he held the sword up like a torch, illuminating what he could of the collapse as he searched for signs of survival.

As he had seen before, the tunnel was totally blocked off by the earth and stone. What he had failed to appreciate was just how much if it there was. At a mere glance, he estimated it to be several tons, too much for even him to move aside with magic. All of them together might have been able to, but most of them would be left shaky and exhausted when it was over. There would be little point to that, either. There was no sign of anything alive on the surface of the rubble, and there was definitely enough to instantly crush the average human beneath its weight. There was nothing that could be done. Clif and the rest were dead.
Kyemen’s face fell. He hated himself for not doing everything in his power for those men, but expedience and pitiless mathematics left him with no choice. He had to continue this mission. It was perhaps the only key to tracking down the third party and ending the Taint, saving millions of lives. That was worth the lives of fifteen bandits of the road.
No, no it isn’t. Not to me. But now it will have to me. There’s too much at stake.[/Color]
Locking away his feelings of guilt until a later time, he turned to the rest of his band. “Right.” He said, straightening. “We have to head further into the ruin, up those stairs. I’ll go first. Arwen, behind me, Daran behind her.” Much as he loathed the thought, he intended to keep Redfern as close to him as possible from now on. Still, better than Laioni. He would leave it to her and Kieran to negotiate the rear position, as they were the two that were least suited to close combat. Without another word, he started toward the stairway, settling his luminous sword in a comfortable center guard in front of him.

The stairwell was larger than he had expected. He realized now that it was only the scale of the room behind it that made it appear small. In actuality, it was about the equivalent of a grand staircase he had seen a few times in the homes of wealthy nobles. The open space unsettled him instinctively. There were just too many dark corners to hide in for an ambush, and it would be very difficult to defend effectively if they needed to. Frowning, he hugged the inside wall, running his free hand along it as he began his ascent.
It was a rather odd climb. He decided that whatever people had built this place were either considerably taller than him, or else had longer legs than he did. All of the steps were just slightly longer than his stride, making it difficult to find a rhythm. He did however notice that the stairs were curving just detectably to his right, as if trying to slowly develop into a spiral and not quite making it. As far as he could tell, there was no sign of the interesting markings that had been down below, but he could just see that the light was growing somewhat up ahead, away from the total blackness of underground and toward the dull radiance of brilliant moonlight. Wherever they were going, they were getting closer to it.

Just then, there was a sharp intake of breath from behind him. He turned, finding Vorendeer looking at him as if something important had just occurred to him.
“Kyemen…” He said, tone calm. “What is Sierthra saying of the situation outside?”
Kyemen felt his gut flip for the second time in the past few minutes. He found he had forgotten all about checking in with Sierthra since the tunnel collapsed, distracted as he was with the constant stream of new events that had been forced on him. He winced guiltily. He could practically feel the stony frown of Oromis on the back ofhis head, even with the distance of most of the continent that separated him. As quickly as he could, he opened his mind, reaching along his mental connection to his dragon’s mind, projecting his feeling of sheepish concern.
…Sierthra?[/Color] He expected he would find her bored but alert, circling her spot with little to do…
He was wrong.
He immediately found himself looking into a well of glacial, blade-sharp concentration, tinged with the slightest hint of fear. There was only the slightest acknowledgment of his presence before with withdrew again, all of her capacity taken up with some kind of evasive maneuver that he could tell would have turned his stomach if he had been on her back. He could see through her eyes, but the images were dark and jittery, as if they jinking and looping madly, giving them only glimpsed flashes of earth, sky, and what looked almost like… Were those wings?
Right then, the image steadied. It was only for a moment, barely enough for him to even understand what they were looking at. After a second he realized it was the ruin, being looked at from an inverted perspective. Night had fully fallen over the plain, and the place suddenly looked black and menacing, a dark shape in the moonlight. This, however, was noticed last.
The first thing he noticed was the solid mass of glittering forms on the flatland, moving to form an solid ring around the four piers of the ruins, the moon glinting on the points of swords and spears.
An army, heading right for them.
It cost them to get that image. Just then, something slammed hard into their gut, causing them to roar in pain as they were sent tumbling through the sky.

He came sharply back to himself as the back of his head collided with something hard. His eyes snapped open as if from a nightmare, casting about amid the darkness for something to orient himself…
His vision fell on four faces, with expressions ranging from concern to abject wonder as to whether or not he was completely insane. Instantly it all flooded back, where he was and what he was doing. He found he had collapsed to his knees, clutching his stomach against the sympathetic pain that had shot through him. Even then, the feeling started to fade as his mind started to piece together that it wasn’t him that had been hurt, leaving him only trying to process what he had seen.
Arwen stared at him, raising her too-bright light. “What is it?”
Kyemen didn’t answer. Suddenly, it all snapped into place.
Without a word, he leapt to his feet and took off running as fast as his feet could carry him, ascending the stairs in bounding, four-at-a-time leaps. Within seconds, he reached the top of the stairway, emerging up onto a wide, flat space. Here he at last allowed caution to catch up with him. He slowed, bring his sword up, letting his eyes scan the area.

As far as he could tell, he was now on the first floor of the ruin, on the very extreme end of the south pier. The chamber in front of him was rather large, evoking images of the great hall of Borromeo castle in its size. Although littered with rubble and debris in some parts, the majority of the black stone floor was clear and flat, as smooth as if it had been polished yesterday. Moonlight flooded through rows of huge, vaulted windows, casting liquid shadows amid the gloom. Still, there didn’t seem to be any immediate threats ready to jump out and ruin the rest of his night.
As if it could be any less ruined.
There was little need to walk to the windows to look out. He could plainly see the silvery armored forms on all sides, nine or ten ranks in every direction.
Even as he watched, several helmed heads rose over the edge of the window. A second later, eight of the mystery soldiers vaulted neatly over the windowsills like they had practiced for months, drawing various weapons and glancing behind them as if they were merely holding the beach-head until more could climb up.
Oh…[/Color] Kyemen thought. Oh this is bad…[/Color]

. . .

Sierthra tumbled through the sky, flailing instinctively to right herself as her attackers strove to drive her closer and closer to the ground.

From the instant the fight began, she had been at a disadvantage. Most of her aerial skill revolved around ability to move faster than any opponent she had ever come across. Even for her however, it took some time to build up that speed, which was difficult when she was taken by surprise. Worse, she had no real experience with this.
She had some training and experience in aerial combat before, of course. She had tangled with the Empire before, and even on one occasion taken on two imperial dragons at once.It was just that Glaedr had focused her training on fighting one or two opponents. After all, even in the old days of the Riders, the only really flying enemies to be dealt with were the occasional wild dragon. And now, with only a handful of dragons on either side, it would never have even occurred to her that she might want to practice fighting dozens of flying foes at a time.
Which was, of course, exactly what she was having to do now. As she felt the small, needle-like teeth jabbing her scales, the the raking claws, the flashes of maddened orange eyes, a feeling tugged at her. A feeling she had not truly felt very often in her life, but one that was tied to the worst times she had ever experienced.
That feeling was fear.

As she fell, she grappled with the three driving her down, trying to find some kind of advantage against them. She knocked aside the jab of a scaly head as one of the creatures tried to bite the base of her neck, slasching its face with a foreclaw on the backswing. The creature hissed, but clung on grimly, doggedly determined not to let go until she had smashed into the ground. Sierthra was running out of options, and she knew it. She only had seconds left, and she was now well and truly out of ideas...
Just then, the voice of Glaedr sprang up unbidden from a memory of one of his combat exercises.
Use your wings, Sierthra. They are the strongest part of you, so they will serve you well in battle. Don't be so shy of using them.

Before she could think, Sierthra brought her wings up as hard as she could, similiar to the motion of a human clapping his hands. Glaedr was right; her wings really were the strongest part of her body, and truly packed a punch when it came to shear weight and gravatis. There was a pronounced slap of flesh on scales, and all three creatures suddenly let go, stunned by the impact. Ignoring the throbbing in her wings and desperately hoping that she was not too late, she coerced her falling body into a tight loop, righting herself in relation to the ground, diving in an attempt to generate lift. She very nearly was too late. She just barely managed to pull out of the dive in time, swooping right over the heads of some of the mystery-soldiers before at last rising to a more comfortable altitude, breathing a sigh of relief.

For a few moments, she was clear of enemies. They still swirled in the sky above her like the schools of fish she sometimes saw when she went swimming in the ocean, seemingly aimless and yet strangely organized. Among them, she was able to glimpse Salmissra, hovering in place like a mountain within a storm. Creatures swirled around her like leaves in a gail, inflicting slashes and bites at intervals. Despite being so outnumbered, the younger dragon seemed to be holding her own. Even as Sierthra watched, she lashed out with a weighted tail, dealing on of the things a mightly blow that caused it to go limp as a wet rag, dropping away from the swarm before it was lost to Sierthra's sight. Right then, Salmissra seemed to glance down in her direction, calling to her mind.
Sierthra! Behind and above you!

Sierthra threw a glance behind her. Sure enough, one of the creatures was bearing down on her, jaws gaping. She sighed. Couldn't they leaver her in peace? She knew that she could beat these flying abominations, if she just had a little breathing space to collect some momentum and employ a few tactics. It looked like they weren't going to give her that opportunity, though...
Just then, she remembered the archers. With the army down below, they were probably having problems of their own. Still, if she could get them to help her...
Making up her mind, she winged over, swooping low over the spot she had last seen Harrowmont and the others in a bid to get their attention and get the creature off her tail.
Crim still needed to prove himself worthy of fealty to her Rider. Maybe now as when he took the first step.[/size][/blockquote]

[KYOU KANZAKI]

{ FEEL IT COMIN' IN THE AIR AND THE SCREAMS FROM EVERYWHERE }
I'M ADDICTED TO THE THRILL
- - - - - - IT'S A DANGEROUS LOVE AFFAIR

Arwen was beginning to become bored of this mission. She knew that it would have been better if she went solo. She hated teamwork. She believed that working with people meant more baggage for her. Much like her angry best friend, she loved working alone and basically going by a simple rule. No survivors when on a killing spree. It wasn't because she lost her cool. Rather, it was just her nature now. Kill and finish the job. No survivors meant no more mess to clean up. When Kyemen had told her that they needed to keep one man alive, she wanted to ask him why her guy? Besides, this was completely unfair! Picking on her like this. Arwen folded her arms with a look of distaste clearly shown on her face. The witch elf was mocking her and Arwen shot the woman a death glare. With a venomous tone, she told the woman.

I feel like puking. You know why? It's just by the sound of your voice. Your voice honestly makes me want to puke. Ugh. she rolled her eyes at the woman before sneering at her with a cruel tone. You're one of those elves that always prance around thinking 'oh, look at me! I'm the prettiest elf around here!' Reality check, hag! You're not all that. Seriously. Get a god damn life. she told her with a cold glare, her blue eyes looking as cold as glaciers. She was annoyed. Pissed, almost. It was unlike her to get like this. Pursing her lips, she looked at Kyemen who was talking to the prisoner. Was everyone here completely stupid? Clearly they had no life. They knew no fun. Even that guy! What was his name? The guy with the dragon! His name started with a D, she remembered. He was part of the crowd too and he was just as much as a bastard as the rest of them all.

So, when the cave crumbled down, she went to Kyemen, expecting a thank you for trying to help him. Well, you know what? There was none. Rather, the elf hag spoke to her again in a sneering tone. Unable to even say anything, since she felt on the verge of slicing the woman in half, she just stuck her middle finger up and told her, Go to hell, hag. F*uck you. Her blue eyes glared darkly at the woman before getting up and leaving Kyemen to the hag to deal with. She heard Keiran tell the 'ladies' (ha, lady? That hag was no lady!) to get out of the way a second after she had left. With her arms crossed, Arwen looked rather dark and annoyed. Fine. They wanted her to stop? Well, that ain't gonna happen. Rather, she was going to give them a hell of a time. They would remember her after they were dead. The whole group was pathetic and she didn't give a damn if she screwed up. Oh well. She wasn't even serious about this whole mission. It was complete rubbish. Why would she be so serious about something that was so...unimportant to her. She then wondered why the hell she had even signed up for this in the first place. On another note, she told herself if anyone was ever in trouble again, she was sure as hell wasn't going to get them out of the pinch.

She wanted to turn her light off, but for some reason, she decided to let it continue to glow. She made it turn slightly dimmer but left it on. Upon hearing the orders, she gave a nosiy sigh and walk over to Kyemen with a roll of her eyes. So what if she was behind the leader? She glanced back to see the rest of the group follow them. Whatever. She followed him, her light still on. She climbed the stairs without another word, her feet being careful and light. She remembered her training on how to be an elf, and clearly it was working well. She was walking like a natural elf now, and even though she hated it, it worked. She heard D's deep breath of intake and she nearly gave a laugh. Wow, dramatic much? She turned at the same time as Keymen did. Rasing a brow at him, she gave a small smile, as if laughing at him. It wasn't mean. Well, not too much. Arwen looked back at Keymen calmly, now feeling very bored. All of a sudden, he fell on all fours and Arwen rose a brow.

Instead of automatically getting down and checking if he was alright, she rose a brow and raised her light slightly, drawling. What is it, now? She then watched as he suddenly get up and start running. She followed him, catching up with him easily while skidding to a stop behind him. With a wave of a hand, she got rid of the light and narrowed her electrical blue eyes. Taking out her swords, her mouth went grim. Slowly, it turned into a sadistic looking smile, the gleam came back into her eyes.

Pylar? We’ve got a lot of guys heading our way. Like, an army. Hows it going out there?

[/i] her mind went out to Pylar automatically instead of sending the message to Crim. Truthfully, she trusted Pylar more for she knew that he was wiser. She got out of line and stepped towards Kyemen slowly while she asked in a low tone with more of a laugh.

Orders? Attack or fall back?

She was smirking at him. If he hit her, she wouldn’t care. She knew how to protect herself and she sure as hell wasn’t going to die here with these…guys. She held her swords tightly, her eyes then switching back to the men slowly making their way to them. A small smirk graced her lips as she watched them with a calm looking expression on her face.
[/size][/blockquote][/blockquote]

words lalaa. Who knows? tagged OP1 ppl notes OUTFIT. && annoyed arwen?
template PANIC! ITS LAUZ @ CAUTION[/center]