Chapter Two: The Auran.

Ivaylo glanced up when addressed. Leave the tents? He looked over his shoulder at the canvas and poles that had folded and packed themselves up halfway already when they stopped, flopping back to the ground as lifeless as they had been. It seemed a shame to leave the equipment, but then again as a traveling regiment he understood not wanting to be weighed down. He rearranged the straps that held the weapons to his back, brushing some of the snow off his shoulders as he did so. Snow. Was it ironic that the cold powder could remind him so warmly of home?

His expression grew solemn at the thought. The Council of Elders hadn't thought that this was their war. Outright refused to get involved. Cowards. He snorted softly to himself, shrugging on his cloak against the cold. The milder weather of this region didn't necessarily bother him but it was an act of habit.

He looked to the rest of the soldiers, eyes falling on the woman he'd met the previous day. Histlan, as he understood it now was either blind or close to it - either way, she didn't seem to have much use for her eyes with the hood drawn that low over her features. She seemed to be deep in thought, musing to herself, expression uncertain. About what, he didn't know. Histlan didn't seem to be much of the chatty type, and he learned little but her name the night before. The walk back to camp had been mostly a silent one, and although he had thought of one or two conversation starters at the time he had the feeling that discussion wouldn't get very far between strangers.

As she bent to lift another bundle to strap to the horse's back he flicked a hand and the sack lifted lazily of it's own accord, drifting the short distance to the animal and hung suspended in the air. "Let me get that." The leather straps undid themselves, looping around the bags and pulling tight for them to stay in place. He grinned, setting one foot in the stirrup and hoisted himself up into the saddle. "There. I believe you have everything now, no?"

Histlan stroked the fur of her unknown coloured horse. She wondered how it would work that she was to ride this beautiful thing, not for her lack of being able to ride. She knew well how to stay on a horse through all its gaits, though she'd very rarely ever galloped. It was the not being able to see where she was going that might prove hazardous. She'd only ever been in rings or on trails she knew very well and when not she normally had a very specific guide. She'd fetched herself a strong lead rope and hung it from her saddle in an accessible spot just in case. Otherwise she supposed that the horse being the sort of creature it was would follow the rest. Her fingers moved over the things she’d put on the saddle making sure everything was well in place and trying to memorize where everything was as she mounted them. Running over it, relative to her being mounted on the horse and what types of knots were used for each thing.

She adjusted the jutte on her belt to make sure they sat properly there and double checked her three sectional staff upon the saddle where it was clasped. She sighed heavily to herself and kept her palms then on the horse's side and faced it as she questioned why she was even there. Was this really what she wanted to be doing? Yes, she wanted to help, and she'd been placed in Govan's service when she'd first arrived. Why? She was not entirely sure, maybe sheer arbitrary selection, and they'd been taking next to anyone, but now she was off on a journey she hadn't planned. She'd wanted to fight, she could do that, better than most would assume but now perhaps when not in the chaos of a battlefield she might just be a hindrance.

She breathed in deeply, there seemed little she could so against it now though and if that was the case, perhaps she'd be expelled and left to go back to wandering and searching like she had been. For now this was where she was and that would just have to do. It was the best decision she could come up with for now.

She pulled off her leather glove and ran her blackened hand down the length of her horse's legs, checking for lameness, as she'd read often happened to them while in massive use and not the best conditions. She stiffened slightly as she felt the approaching darkness that made her uncomfortable inside... upon something that felt just as dark. It in fact reminded her of the stains on her hands, but there was darkness all around anyhow. She stood up straight once more and pulled on her glove, raising her chin as she heard the partially familiar voice address the matters of the tents. That was alright, she hadn't packed hers anyhow.

She bent to lift the last thing, it wasn't too heavy but it startled her slightly when it's weight was suddenly no longer on her hands. Her arms jerked back slightly, and she took in a sudden breath but otherwise she didn't change much. She felt that sudden presence of magic the odd one she wasn't famillar with that had occured yesterday near him as well. Her hand followed up and felt the bag she'd just had. Her fingers analysed it as she had the other ones, it seemed quite firmly in place. "Uh..." She started softly and cleared her throat, "Yes. That is all of it. Thank you."

((Nemes - new guy, will make a bio soon))

Pulling the reins, Odei guided Obi back from where he came, making sure everything was ready for departure. He looked up to see Vasilios and an unfamiliar face heading his way. He stopped, muscles in his body readying for a verbal attack from the Nobleman. But with a closer look, Odei noticed the lined features of Vas, and was that a stubble? Vasilios looked older… somewhat having lost a little of that Vasilios of Eslin. A man struggling to remain upright with the world bearing down on him like a ton of bricks.

Suddenly, Odei felt no inclination of provoking the man, somewhat pitying him. The man just tried too hard for his own good. The stranger next to him Odei had not met as of yet, but at the sight of the elegant, white bat-like wings, Odei knew who he was. He was Nemes Of the Vorei, and as Odei had learnt during their ‘talk’ the previous day, he was Lumerian legend.

He was also to accompany Odei through the entire ‘mission’ as Major… much to his disappointment. One look at the Vorei, and Odei knew he was just another Vasilios… a winged one at that. Double the trouble, and as much as Odei thought he would never want to see Vasilios again, he wished it was the Eslinian knight joining him for the ride, and not this winged fluff. Vasilios, Emaran and the rest of highlords decided Odei was needed on this mission, they were not so unwise to let him go without someone to watch his every move.

“Catching on quite quick to the title, eh, Mr. Baran?” Nemes smiled, genuinely pleased to see Odei trying to fulfill his new, complicated duty. The sound of crashing caught the Vorei’s attention as a soldier’s saddle had come undone, entire saddle and belongings sliding off the horse to the ground. Nemes slid off his horse to aid the soldier, much to Odei’s relief, for his would not have managed a civil reply.

Vasilios caught Odei’s sneer directed at the Major’s back. “Odei…” He said firmly. “Don’t…” Vasilios struggled with words, though Odei had quite a good idea of what the worried, anxious man wanted to say; Don’t screw this up. “I won’t.” Odei answered flatly.

Vasilios regarded him for a moment, surprised for there was sincere in his plain response… something ‘un-Baran-ish’.And strangely enough, Vasilios felt relief.

It was less than half an hour later that Vasilios stood alone in the empty clearing that held some ninety-something men and women, soldiers of Yeidin, now all gone on their journey.

“You better not screw this up.” Vasilios said quietly to the wind.

Sachieal looked around at the horses as he entered the stable, they averted their eyes. "You beasts of burden are smarter than most others here." He sighed and walked out, a horse just wouldn't do at all. He could walk, sure, but walking through the snow of the great mountains would be quite the dreary experience. He couldn't fly there, his wings would weigh down too quickly, and he'd run risk of falling from the sky.

"So be it then, I'll just conjure my own." Sachiael focused his energy in the image of a horse, it'd have to be demonic, and it'd probably scare the other horses quite a bit, but it was his last option.

The horse was, for all mortal purposes, a snow-white stallion, it's mane lay long and uncropped around its blood-red eyes. It stood on thick hooves of charred bone, and upon entering the world planted them firmly up to the hilt in the soft earth just outside the stables. Sachieal walked around the beast, observing its demonic superiority.

"You're a terrible looking thing, but a powerful one, demon." Sachieal rested his hand upon the beasts head, petting it lightly. "I don't think we'll be using your demonic name in this realm." Sachieal swiftly jumped atop the horse, and it reared in protest. "Calm, Beast, or I'll send you further into hell than you wish to go. I hear back in the seventh level there's disorder now to my absence. Good luck survivng the Demon Lords down there, boy." The horse calmed itself, although its eyes showed wrath like none other.

"Well then, you're a demon, so your name must explain sin." He put his hand to the horse's head. "Tell me, demon, what is your crime?"

The horse willed the words in his head, and Sachieal heard them loud and clear. Murder of my eldest son, his son, his wife, and my wife, My Leige. Sachieal chuckled, "So, death spread as if by disease." He removed his hand from the beast's head.

"Your name shall be Pestilence." Sachieal trotted the powerful horse out to the group, holding only his bag of supplies. "Commrades, shall we ride?"

[[I need the ride there for something but I guess I'll work around it.]]

Origin held tightly to the rough hand as she awkwardly dismounted. The hand that joined hers was even darker than her own, the hard lines o f work detailing the veins and muscles beneath the skin.

The cloaked figure had taken hold of her horse not far from Azrian, to her initial protest, until she realized the familiar scent.

Vasquiri had come back.

They spoke in whispers and hand signals, muttering to each other in their native language, a softly spoken tongue, lest they be overheard. Neither mentioned the events of the previous day, or anything other than light chatter, but each was on edge, for fear that some buffoon would come and try to peer beneath that thick cloak.

Origin had made it a priority to stay out of Odei's way so that he wouldn't bother her about anything for the remainder of the day. After all, if she stayed out of sight... Goodness knows he had enough to do as a captain to be bothered with an apprentice and a foot soldier.

Vasquiri pulled her cloak tighter about her, then cast a portion of his around her shoulders, supporting her with his weight. Her leg hurt something fierce, but he would not embarrass her by carting her off somewhere. He was considerate of her obstinate pride, knowing she'd become docile as soon as she was ready to.

He ushered her into the relative warmth and safety of a nearby overhang as he began unloading the horse, acting as natural as the other foot soldiers along the parade. He retrieved her satchel and his rucksack, her bow and the feedsack.

Leaving the horse to the stableboy, the two retreated into the shadows.

[bow chicka wowow?]]

((HAha! Bow chika what? LOL!))



Odei quietly watched as he leaned over the marble railings of the gallery overlooking Ahila’s main hall. Below he could see a group of several families; mothers, fathers and their children, sitting around a large table, servants offering them hot food and drink. To one side of the hall their belongings were neatly stacked against the wall, ready for departure. Nemes was down there too, along with other officers, talking softly to one of the members of the group.

These people were what the small regiment had come for to Ahila; families of political background and importance who have lost their home to wars further up north, and it was now Nemes’s responsibility to assure them a safe journey to Eslin, there, they would find their new homes.

At least that would be the mission that everyone would be told, as it was only Nemes, Odei and a few others who knew that within this crowd was the Auran.

“You’re made of powerful magic, Baran…” Emaran had told him the day before during their long talk. “A rare one, yet powerful enough for when drastic measures are needed, and we’ll be needing that strength when removing the Auran from these parts and take her to the safety of the Roshaan Manar.” Of course they would not depend on Odei alone, with him would be Nemes, and other powerful figures of the Lumeria and umbrovia alike. Their plan was to appear as simple as that; a traveling regiment escorting a group of ordinary people to safety. The lords of the Sudao would expect the Auran to be relocated, yet not with an ordinary regiment, and would keep their eye out for the movement of powerful Lumerian figures and forces rather than to focus on Odei’s small regiment. Unfortunately for them, the journey would have to be on foot; Odei offered to get the job done in minutes, simply by taking the child through the shadows… but the stretch of land, shadows, sky and all that lies between Ahila and The Guild of Light was zealously watched by their enemies. It would be impossible.

Odei scanned the small, cheerful faces of the dozen-something children in the crowd of a variety of ages. This mission was so discreet that they would not tell even HIM which one of the children was the Auran. Odei understood; who knows what spies might be between them, and Vasilios probably warned them against feeding odei too much information. The less people knew of the truth, the better were their chances. Odei tried to feel a shift of energy, someone as powerful as the Auran should at least have a powerful aura, he thoughts… but nothing was there.

An hour later, and Odei was outside with the rest of the men, leaving Nemes behind to tend to the families. Among the soldiers unpacking and unsaddling their horses, he once again found the same group of people; the blind girl, the dark elf, the inn performer… but noticed Origin was no where to be seen, and made nothing of it – she was probably still angry, and hid away from him, and he knew better than to pursue her. Obsidian was there too, investigating an equally large, albino horse. Odei felt the dark vibes about it, and approached Sachial. “That’s an interesting horse…” He said, liking the fine build of the animal, but having had enough of demonic creatures. Obsidian was a handful as is.

Sachieal laughed and stroked his large albino steed. "You've good taste, or bad, but I'm sure you know about him already." He looked over the the equally large, black horse of Odei's. "Your's is very interesting too, as it seems."

"I had to summon this one, the other horses wouldn't allow me near them." Sachieal shrugged and looked at the others around him, notably the blind girl and the dark elf. "That's no matter, my Pestilance will serve me just fine." He turned back to Odei. "So, I take it you're our leader now." Sachieal chuckled and regarded Odei with a warm smile. "Do you think you can handle this...unusual bunch?"

Obsidian’s thick-horse lips curled back in an effort of a fanged smirk at Odei’s back. “Yes… he’s… interesting. You could say that.” More like a blood-thirsty, pitiless, ignorant, demonic pain in the ass. And Odei wished he was fortunate enough to have ‘conjured’ Obi up himself… so that he could un-conjure him. But that was not the case. “Actually pestilence would have been the perfect name for Obsidian… didn’t think of it at the time, I didn’t know any better.”

Odei then wished he could also make himself disappear at the second inquiry of this strange, pale being. This was perhaps one of the most ridiculous ideas Vasilios had ever had, placing Odei as captain… but then there was Nemes, the ‘Legend’, to clean up after him, no? “Sure.” Odei answered confidently, crossing his arms against his chest. “But we need far more organizing, the troops aren’t divided as of yet, the officers still don’t know their own men… You haven’t been placed under a commanding officer till now, have you?” Odei intending the entire group. He had been busy with Nemes and the rest since they arrived, and had a feeling nothing had progressed since then.

"That's no matter, Obsidian does fit him nicely. Unfortunately enough, I lived among Pestilance for a long time, it's...common...where I come from. A lot of death, a lot of suffering, a lot of pain." Sachieal thought back on the seventh level, and wondered of the disorder that was going on there right now.

Sachieal saw a slight quiver in the man's confidance, he'd watch to see how he acted on his new rank later. "No, we've been assigned no orders other than that of to hold here." A dark grin spread across Sachieal's face. "I don't suppose there are any commanding officers around here, are there?"

Odei did not turn back to look at Sachieal as he spoke of his home and the suffering there, not knowing where this might be, growing more curious to learn more of this person. He had no doubt more than half of the men and women serving here have had turbulent pasts, unhappy homes and a dark history. Why else would they all come fight in this war so far away if they had something better back home to protect? In Odei's case, it was not pestilence that drove him from country to country… he was the ‘disease’ that people feared. Mayhap after this battle, which they just might very well win, the peace that exists only in legends of old where light and dark thrived as one could actually become a reality… and then Odei and many others would no longer have to search for peace.

If that was what he was looking for, that is.

He heard the laughter in Sachieal’s voice; “ … There are no commanding officers around here, are there?”

Odei’s sharp eyes found those of Sachieal, returning his smile with an equally mischievous, white grin, a spark within suddenly igniting to life. If the high lord and nobleman wanted Odei to lead, then he will. His way. Of course there were Officers… but they were as good as the next fop still learning how to hold a sword. Then here was Sachieal standing before him. These were the first few words they had exchanged between them since their first meeting, yet he had already learnt enough – Hurst uninvitingly filled him in on the details of the white demon’s efforts at the battle, and afterwards. He would not regret his decision of placing Sachiael as officer. Unless if he turned out to be a spy, the Odei would have to kill him.

His heavy hand slapped Sachial hard on the chest. “There are now.” Odei chuckled. “Organize your men… who ever they may be, and then report back to me. I’m off to look for the other officers.” And with that Odei walked away, a wide grin across his face. He would demote every officer set by the generals, and replace them with new, more reliable ones… whether Nemes liked it or not.

Odei skidded to a stop, turning for a moment, wondering about Origin's whereabouts and if this man knew... but decided not to ask, lest she should lose her temper even further.

A foot unused to solid land stepped onto the wooden ramp with an unfamiliar uncertainty. Although the stranger was glad to be on solid earth again, the months at sea had her disorientated. What was more, is that the peoples of these parts were completely different than what she had seen before. Sure there were resemblances of race and whatnot, but it only further added to her discomfort.

Though it was more than a little late to turn back, and Chi would be damned if she ever set foot upon a boat or any other thing that floated on water for the rest of her life. So simply put: she was staying and that was that.

Brushing her long black hair - a 'gift' from her human mother- out of her face, Chi's sharp blue eyes surveyed the rest of her surroundings once she had escaped the accursed trading ship that brought her here on bartered passage. Having steadied herself, her stance was strong and her chin held a subtle prideful tilt as her shade of dark skin stood out among the locals.

She looked foreign in nearly every sense of the word as her quick eyes took in as much as they could. Three black and silver curious curved weapons adorned her sides as the black stiff fabric armor (similar to that of a Japanese Samurai) creaked with each step she took. Even her socked and sandaled feet stood out and it increased her discomfort as she tried to avoid the suspicious eyes of the populous - chagrined to find that it was no different here than it was in her homeland, but at least they did not know her history and she could start anew here.

No matter, where there were people, there was always a need for her skills... and with that need there came money.

"And with that money... there is food!" Chi spoke quietly to herself, grimacing as her stomach complained rather loudly and caused her to try and stifle it with her arm clamped about her midriff.

Luckily, Chi could understand the common dialect as she had employed lessons in the native tongue on her long trip here, but her vocabulary was limited, leading to a rather difficult conversation in trying to find a money broker who would exchange her bag of foreign coin to the currency of this realm.

"You ... buy money?" she asked the money lender that had taken her at least two hours to find, trying for the third time to explain what it was she wanted; giving up soon after and simply dropping the bag of her coins in his lap and finally getting her point across.

~

Her bag of coins was considerably smaller in amount, but almost twice as heavy as the coin here was made of a different type of metal. That didn't deter Chi for long though as she quietly followed her nose to a restaurant - simply ordering a bowl of rice as she had no idea of the local food menu and decided to stick with what she knew. Unfortunately, another obstacle was shoved into her face as the waiter had brought the brooding Ken Warrior two unfamiliar pieces of cutlery with her bowl of rice.

Picking up the knife and fork, Chi's sharp blue eyes looked at them quizzically, wondering what they were for until she realized to her dismay that this country did not use chopsticks.

Feeling so very out of place with both skin colour, dialect and her clothing, Chi was glad she had brought her pair of chopsticks with her and soon brought them out and ate the small grains at a moderately fast pace - finishing of her meal and muttering a thanks in her own tongue before paying the man and quickly escaping back onto the street.

She had been in different places before, but this place would take some getting used to...

((Hurst))

No one would have ever thought that Hurst could posses such a voice made to sing so well… what with all the drink and fowl food the man downed as if life depended on it. Anyone who truly knew Hurst would know that his life actually did depend on it, and a withdrawal of these pleasures might result in instant death. Yet there he was, singing his heart out, a voice so talented that the passing people somewhat pardoned his indecent, drunken state.

He skidded, hopped, staggered… then would manage a manly, half- sober walk by a fine dame, before continuing to stumble forth in search of a next inn. No sooner than had the regiment arrived in Ahila did Hurst make a run for it, eager to taste the local spirits…and if lucky… the women.

A shapely, fine figure caught his eye of what appeared to him as an elfen woman leaving an inn. He instantly sobered up… another magical talent he seemed to have mastered other than sleeping upright on a horses’ saddle, brushed his hair with his fingers, and cleared his throat before approaching the magical woman.

“Hello, Madame. Anywhere you might be going? I could escort you. It's not the best weather for a lady like yourself to be out and about in." Charming words he had heard from a certain Sachial, a man that was quickly became Hurst’s idol and mentor.

For one being prided in stealth, Chi was sorely spooked by the strange man as he cleared his throat. She had noticed his singing but had paid little attention to it as she was quietly trying to figure out where to go next by looking at a small map of the town she had picked up from a man at the dock.

In a split second reaction, she had stepped back at least five feet and already had her katana half drawn before she realized the man meant no harm. That didn't stop her from swearing at him in her own tongue before she realized he was talking with her and asking her a question

"Not too fast..." Chi objected as she caught only one in three words, quickly sheathing her sword but still suspiciously keeping her distance. "Who are you? What you want?" Smelling the alcohol on his breath even if he seemed sober, Chi wasn't quite sure how this man could ingest such amounts or be so... carefree. She was used to restraint, and not such a wide display of emotion that this stranger quite happily portrayed.

((Hurst))

‘Be one with the Sachieal! Be one with the Sachieal!’ Hurst repeated to himself. What would that charmer say at this point? “Nothing, m’lady… only wish to escort you to… to where you want to go…” he spoke slowly, now understanding she was not native to Ahila. At the sight of the sword, Hurst decided he had seen enough sharp objects in the last few days to last him a life time, he lifted up his hands, palms facing her. “Alright… alright. Got it. I’ll just… go then… erm… good day… I mean… night… ’ He said quietly, turning away.

Maybe it was the hair? Dammit. He needed a hair cut. And perhaps it’s time he bought that interesting little gadget people always talk about… what’s it called again… ah yes. A hairbrush.

Sachieal sat next to Pestilance and thought on these new revelations. He was now a commanding officer. He could probably attribute this to his actions in the battle a few nights ago.

Although Sachieal wasn't satisfied with not killing the demon that attacked Origin, he was proud of getting her back to safety and evacuating the infirmary. As it would seem, his efforts paid off.

Sachieal took out a small peice of parchment, he'd make a small list of those he wanted in his company:

He thought of the blind woman, the one who was aided by the dark skinned elf. He'd want her, for certain, she radiated dark magic. The dark elf seemed like a worthy member of his company as well, he'd inquire toward him. His mind jumped toward Miss Calcifer. Of course he'd ask her, she'd want to be in his party even if he didn't ask.

Sachieal's smile faded, however, when he thought of Origin. He would not ask her, as she'd probably refuse anyway. She seemed as one to either become another CO, or work under Odei. This was fine with Sachieal, however, he had not spoken to Origin since the incident, and would prefer to not anyway.

Sachieal inquired towards the other men around him, he needed the names of the dark elf and the blind woman, and they were more than happy to oblidge. Soon, Sachieal had all the information that he needed, his announcement was ready.

"Ivaylo, Histlan, Calcifer, I'd like to speak to you on orders from Odei." Sachieal shouted into the crowd around them. "I'd also like anyone who's not willing to be led under some pompus footsoldier who wouldn't know his sword from his....yeah." The crowd erupted with laughter, but Sachieal held a hand up to silence them. "This is urgent, serious business, and I'd like to see you all in the clearing about a half mile from here, dead south."

Sachieal jumped on Pestilance and rode down to the clearing, those who would follow, would.

Wait! Chi called out in her native tongue as she watched him turn away, suddenly comprehending what he offered was basically a god-send in this strange place. "Wait... please." She then said in her broken new tongue, only her eyes betraying her need for some help as her face still remained stoic and serious. "I need... place to sleep." she then explained, taking her hands off the hilt of her katana and letting them relax at her sides, her stance loosening its tense defense. "I need... you- your help. Please."

He amused her, really, with his people-savvy demeanor along with his scruffy hair. This man seemed so innocent and it caused her to soften a little more around him as she was so high-strung she was surprised she hadn't decapitated him when he first startled her.

"I can pay if you need." She then offered, uncomfortable with the fact she was placing herself somewhat in his hands, but it was necessary and she knew how to take care of herself rather well if he turned out to be playing her false.

"I must leave now," he said, bowing with a flourish. He'd spent long enough idling about the town, and what was worse. He smelled Drow. It was not the dark elf he knew to escort the blind woman, but a stranger. He needed to check it out, then warn his brother.

Origin nodded, crunching more leaves into her pestle. They'd spent plenty of time together that day, replenishing her stores and re-mending Vasquiri's cloak to better fit her, since he'd deemed the cloth useless after such a tear.

They'd spoken about mountains of nothing the entire day, skipping around subjects and telling pointless tales, a courtesy no one seemed to share any more. Then he'd gotten a preoccupied look on his face, and left.

She understood. His brother was ailing, and he had to care for his kin. It was a piece of information that he had never told her, but she could smell it on his skin, the faintest stench of someone close.

She poured her salve into an empty vial, faintly aware of the flapping of wings into the clear sky.

"Bring him no harm," she muttered under her breath, "By the Gods I beg you bring him no harm."

--
Leyla

Leyla scrambled over a boulder, safely coccooned in her little blue cloak, she'd ventured out into the surrounding forestlands when her governess wasn't looking. She wanted to pick winter tulips, and perhaps her mother wouldn't scold her if she brought back a large enough bouquet.

Takign a moment to hop around in the snow, she took stock of her surroundings. Perhaps she should not be so far away from the city walls. After all, her mother had said that there were bad people who wanted to get her and do very bad things.

And now, she had no clue where she was. It was a scary thought. She knew the forest around Fort Decembran like the back of her hand, and she'd supposed all forests were alike. But now... She felt horribly lost.

The sounds of flapping startled her. What was that?! She took off in a dead run, wanting to be safe instead of sorry.

She saw something at the edge of a clearing, and as she came closer she could see the outlined form of someone wearing a dark cloak in the snow. She was far too afraid to think straight, and ran for the figure, diving beneath the cloak for shelter and safety.

Origin jumped as the little girl dove into her cloak. She nearly dropped her pestle. Pouring her half-finished conconction into a vial, she placed a soft hand on the child's head, not turning to look at the small form huddled in her cloak.

"'Twas only a bird Little One," she murmured, reacing around in her satchel for a small yellow ball covered in light crystals, "Here, place this in your mouth, it will calm you."

It was only a little bit of candied ginger, nothing poisonous or overly strong, but enough to take the girl's mind off of her rootless fear.

Leyla chewed the ginger, smiling at the sweetness. She was so rarely offered candies, this was quite the treat. She peeked her little head out from inside of the overlarge cloak, suddenly startled by the woman's appearance.

"Why are you so dark?" she asked suddenly,"And why is your hair so pale? And why do you wear that over your eyes?"

Origin smiled placing her pestle back into her lap, "That would take me days and days to tell you, are you sure you want to know Little One?"

"My name is Leyla," the child answered.

"And mine, Origin. I think your name is prettier. I have envy now."

The little girl giggled and climbed fully from beneath the cloak, all fear washed from her mind

Eavesdropping was never a considerate thing to do, especially when it was listening to business that was not of one's own. Then again, when people were yelling, it wasn't really considered eavesdropping, right? After all, they're the ones choosing to be loud.

Thoughts regarding this ran briefly through Vanity's head as she sat a ways off the side of the road, her spine straight, hands resting on her knees as she kept her legs crossed before her. It might have been odd to see her sitting there, just based off her appearance. Long, straight, ink-black hair fell in graceful lines over her shoulders, as a sleek curtain down her back. Her pale complexion seemed to stand out more thanks to those dark locks of hers, and her eyes didn't help with that. Dark blue, practically black, they gazed unblinking and firmly out into the distance, as if something distracted her. If not for her clothing, one might think she was monochromatic.

The way she dressed, Vanity was obviously a warrior of some sort, albeit she was often snickered at behind her back because of how "womanly" she was. Even through all her attire, one could still make out her hourglass figure, could tell how thin she actually was.

If what she wore was meant to make her distasteful at all, it never worked (the gawking stares that had gone noticeably upon her made it obvious). True, the somewhat baggy, long-sleeved white shirt wasn't very eye-catching, but the vest that was wrapped snugly over it, along with its matching skirt, she even had to admit, was adorable. A light red-brown, the vest seemed to help shape her figure instead of hiding it. The hem of it was embroidered in a delicate, seemingly floral design, sewn into the fabric with golden thread. The vest was pulled closed with dark string, looped through a set of holes on each flap. The skirt was of the same colors and fabric, with the golden design at the hem just as it was on the vest, barely reached her knees. It was because of its length that Vanity had chosen to wear black tight leggings—couldn't have the boys looking up her skirt in combat, now could she? Of course not. And her boots, matching that skirt, fit nicely with the whole outfit, too.

If that didn't make her look like a fighter, the sheathed sword clinging to her back would make up for it. The sheath itself was a glossy black, left undecorated and supported by its own matching strap, which hung diagonally over one of Vanity's shoulders and her chest. All one might see of the actual sword was its golden hilt.

Aside from her vest, what Vanity cherished most was the silver cross pendant around her neck, held close to her collarbones on a short chain. In short, it reminded her of home, and that was all she ever explained of it to others.

At hearing all the commotion nearby, Vanity finally averted her eyes elsewhere, towards the road. Still silent, still elegantly composed, she let her gaze follow the group that was now venturing upon it, inwardly curious. Evidently these people were gathering together. Of course a whole crowd wouldn't just leave their homes without reason. Vanity had heard a few of them anyway; she barely regretted the eavesdropping, it was practically necessary. Without a word she rose to her feet, moving with fluid grace into the crowd herself, one hand clutching the strap of her sword's sheath.

One of them had looked familiar.

Ivaylo’s eyes turned upwards when his name had been called, looking around for the speaker. Finally his eyes fell on Sachieal, now the center of attention in the entire crowd. Orders? He frowned, now listening intently as a part of Sachieal’s speech was obscured by the uproar of laughter, but as it died off the rest of the message became clear. Clearing, half a mile south. What were they to do there?

Figuring all questions would be answered upon their arrival at said meeting place, he climbed onto his horse’s back, pausing only momentarily to glance at the others addressed in the speech doing the same. He hesitated in spurring his horse onward, eyes lingering on Histlan’s horse. How did someone without sight guide their horse in a distinct direction? Ivaylo drew back on the reigns slightly for his ride to stand still and the creature snorted at him, irritated by the delay but came to a stop nonetheless.

“Will you be able to find the meeting location, or would you prefer a riding partner?”

The woman felt Odei's approach along with Obsidian, but she didn't turn away from her work with her horse for it though perhaps she should have. He was afterall their captain and that should be rewarded with respect, only she hadn't been able to shake the anxious feeling she got around him and it was not a feeling she wanted to start feeling again at all. It'd be a hurdle she'd decided to leave far behind her years ago. Decidedly she would just have to get over it somehow.

Histlan's head rose when she heard her name called along with others, from a mounted man who she was not certain she knew the voice of. How did he know her name...? Or even more importantly she wondered why in the world he would want to speak to her and the others over the largely numerous horde of people. It was an answer she'd have to find out it seemed as he left them no clues other than the meeting place after the outburst of laughter. She hadn't found it humourous... but her sense of humour perhaps lacked.

She always felt greatful in these sorts of situations that she had a good sense of direction and a general sense of where she was going, not sure how exactly, but still, while not on just her own feet and without a general heading after the long mindless following of the troops, it was a definite hindrance and fault of how she was. She found this whole having to travel just to find some answers a bit of an annoyance all together though.

Hand moving down the saddle, following the strapping till her hands were on the stirrup, she quickly got her foot into it, and hoisted herself up on to her unluckily fair-tempered horse. She adjusted herself in the saddle and tried to listen for the sound of horses heading out, planning that following those would hopefully lead her in the right direction. It would work if she could concentrate on one person and make certain they stayed with the group.

Her head lifted up swiftly as she heard the famillar voice and shifted her attention over towards Ivaylo's direction. Her lips moved for a moment as though she felt like she was going to speak but then wasn't sure exactly what they were. She hated to seem useless or unable... but as much as she still thought she could find this place by her own wit, to have a riding partner would be so much more convienent.

She wouldn't have accepted the help had it been a complete stranger but the man from the day before, Ivaylo, he'd said his name was seemed as though he was... well, somewhat kind. He was giving her the choice as well, which helped to lighten the blow to her pride. Her uncertain lips pulled up into a subtle grin and Histlan nodded. "I believe I can find it. However, a riding partner would be nice to have, if it is not a hassle for you." She said in acceptance. Heels pressed into the sides of her horse and the animal started off into a light walk, eager to move with the bustle.

Sachieal rode fast to the clearing, there was a grand announcement to be made, and he would make it with new grandeur. The crowd followed Sachieal, falling just short of Pestilence’s demonic speed. It was quite an honor to be regarded with such rank now, and Sachieal intended on using it to the fullest. He brought Pestilence to a shuddering stop, kicking up handfuls of grass and dirt from where its great hooves of scorched bone dug into the ground.

The others eventually made it to the clearing, all in all, a good number had followed, including those he had requested specifically. The dark elf, Ivaylo had escorted the blind one, Histlan. Good, he had wondered how she’d arrive; although he assumed that she’d be able to find her way on her own, judging by how well she moves around normally.

Murmurs passed through the crowd, it seems his little performance had caught the attention of the others. Also good, he liked having his messages heard loud and clear. Sachieal held up his hand, and the crowd went silent. Sachieal grinned. A few in this group looked promising. Apart from Calcifer, Histlan, and Ivaylo, he saw a girl, as pale as he, had joined the crowd.
Strange, I did not see this one during the journey…

He quieted his rambunctious thoughts, now was not the time for interrogations.

“Hopeful comrades, listen closely. Earlier today, I was made a Commanding Officer under Odei, our commander, you know him already.” He cleared his throat and continued, turning Pestilence around. “My name, however, is Sachieal. I’ve been ordered to amass my own company for our next assignment.” Sachieal averted his eyes and chuckled. “I don’t exactly know what that assignment will be, but allow me to inform you now: If you join my company, you had better be ready to work your hardest for the good of your comrades.”

Sachieal jumped off of Pestilence and regarded the crowd from the ground, pacing back in forth, in order to survey the entire group. “Any who wish to fight under me, rather, with me, I ask you to stay here. Any who wish to try their hands elsewhere, be gone with you.”

Sachieal crossed his arms and waited, he’d get to know them all after they made their choices.

((Nemes))

Nemes’s heart hammered against his chest, threatening to explode. Had I failed my mission already? He roared, urging his horse into a faster pace. He was flanked by two other officers, the three men riding their horses to a menacing speed through the woods, eyes searching every corner for a flash of blue. Some short distance, another group of three officers also rode on, scouting the trees, dead bushes and snowy fields, and further down still, even more men. Nemes could not believe the negligence of the guards at the main hall, as well as that of the governess… The mother had been with Nemes as she and the other adults spoke of the plans to come, so Lyla was left in the care of her tutor. What on earth could the hag have been so busy with not to notice the little girl slip out? That is… if she wasn’t smuggled out… so they had spent the last half an hour searching for her, as the girl seemed to have just vanished, not even leaving a trail of footprints in the snow, or any clues they could follow.

He had taken every precaution to assure that their enemies did not know of their little ‘mission’, and he was sure they were free, undetected as of yet… but still fear gripped him. If the Sudao had already gotten their hands on her… it would be the end of everything. But before his hopes would sink any further, the officer at his right shouted, pointing at a figure in the distance. “There she is!”. The horses were guided to where Origin stood before skidding to a halt, Nemes closing the rest of the distance between them on foot.

He dropped down to a knee, arms spread wide with, an expression mixed of fear and relief on his noble face. “Lyla! Oh thank the gods, you’re alright! We were looking all over for you!” His voice was kind and soothing, as he had always spoken to her in the past few weeks as Layla had come to know him as a gentle, angel-like giant. As she reached him, eyes cast down rather guiltily; he quickly drew her tiny cloak over her shoulders, and pulling off his own long scarf, gently wrapped it about her head to cover her features, lest should there be eyes in the woods. She must remain anonymous at all times. “We don’t want you to catch a cold now… do we?” He said, finally wrapping his powerful hands around her to lift her high above the ground, and into his protective, winged embrace.

His eyes now rose to study the stranger, instantly catching the marked sigils and sash about one arm. She was one of theirs… but why so far out, alone and with the child? The two officers stood near her now, hands resting on the hilts of their swords. Avoiding an accusing glare, lest should he be wrong about Origin, Nemes decided to let the child confirm his fears… or prove them wrong. He brushed the hair away from Lyla’s face, his voice calm and gentle. “How did you get all the way over here alone? Did the nice lady take you for a small stroll?” His question clear with meaning to everyone save the little girl. He sighed with relief when the child readily admitted that she had snuck out of the hall alone, that she was bored and fed up with the rough boys there, and then got lost. But it was the nice lady that gave her candy, and asked if she could play with her for a little longer…

Origin now would be met with respect and his thankful, sincere smile, voice husky and relieved. “Oh, she has, has she?... Did you thank her?” Nemes bowed slightly, much to the dismay of his officers, for he was quite an authority to be bowing down to a common soldeir like that. “Thank you, for helping little Lyla.” He then looked down sorrowfully at Lyla’s request. “But I’m afraid there is no time for play, for we must get back. It is getting dark. The Lady may ride with us if she would like to, but we certainly cannot stay here any longer…”

((Hurst))

At beautiful voice of the maiden’s call, Hurst felt the sun suddenly fight its way through the darkening sky, showering him with rays of glory! The hair was just fine after all, and it looks like had indeed mastered the arts of the Sachieal!

She needed a place to stay… He asked somewhat bewildered, who comes to Ahila without previous plans or booking at an inn or so? So the woman was maybe lost? He snickered inwardly at her next sentence; she would pay? Oh dear gods, wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Woman of these parts did not like paying for anything! Hurst laughed within, but by now her character made it clear to him she was not the one to ease him and make him forget his warring miseries for the night. She was too serious. And they said foreigners were easy… tfeh! Still, he did not mind the innocent company of a beautiful stranger.

“A place to stay?” “Erm… well… you can choose… you could stay at an inn…” He gestured to a nearby building, in fact an inn. “Or if you like you can come with me to… erm… base… ah… home?” with awkward gestures, he improvised soldiers sleeping in barracks. “… There you no pay! Free!” He then threw his hands up in the air… “Ah! But first! Welcome party!” He cheered. The night was young, and the traveler would need a drink or two before bed! That, he certainly would pay for. Careful not to offend her, he touched her elbow in a gesture to make him follow her towards the nearby inn. “Come! I teach you new Ahila words!”

Words… and song… and drink types… and food types… and anything else that would follow in the noisy tavern.

Since her banishment from her home clan, and self-employment into the mercenary career, Chi had never let anyone touch her after all those long years. One ones who did were sometimes lucky enough to escape with only a few missing fingers. Her only exception was children. Children at young age were never judgmental and did not care about her half-blood ancestry, and they were so full of innocence that they were probably the one thing Chi would throw her life away to protect in an instant - because it was something she did not have as a child.

... but when Hurst touched her elbow to guide her, Chi merely looked at him and actually cracked a small smile in her humour. After watching Hurst's little dance in trying to explain to her what a barracks was (which she still didn't get), who couldn't? "My thanks..."

The man that taught Chi the Ahila language only had a small limited vocabulary himself, so Chi was infinitely grateful for Hurst's lessons in the small noisy tavern. And through a bit of charades and pointing over a pint of whatever drink it was that Hurst ordered, Chi drilled Hurst in some basic words and repeated him in order to try and get the proper accent.

"My name is Chi," she then said after about an hour of learning the language, realizing she had not introduced herself to this stranger yet, and applied her new language skills when she offered up her hand for a handshake and asked him for his own name. Although it was not her original custom her travels had led her to realize a handshake was a rather well known form of greeting .

During Sachieal's speech, something within Vanity sparked. Only a split second after he announced his name, her thin brows furrowed a tad, her dark eyes widened slightly. Her grip on her sheath's strap tightened so that her nails were almost scraping into the leather. Thankfully, her emotions could change and pass almost unnoticeably; she didn't want to draw attention here, not the unwanted kind.

"He goes by the name of Sachieal." Vanity narrowed her eyes a little now. Wasn't that...? No, she couldn't know right away. For all she knew, there could be a thousand men named Sachieal on this earth. That made her job considerably harder—more than it already was.

With a small sigh, Vanity crossed her arms in front of her chest, softening her expression to a more relaxed state. I'll have to lay back for a while. Luckily, patience was one of her better traits. Being over thousands of years old had that effect, even on an angel. Though she already stood tall in good posture, she straightened her back a bit more, just to give some sort of indication that she planned to stay.

Origin shifted from foot to foot for a moment, apprehensive at all of the hands resting dangerously on shining hilts. The guards were probably itching to cut down a dark magician, and if it weren't for the sash upon her arm, they would have done so already. This army was shamefully disorganized.

She looked closely at the guardian of the little girl. He was nearly as white as the snow, had he not been wearing his uniform he could have blended in perfectly with the flurries. She suddenly felt unneccesarily dark in comparison. He seemed sweet towards the girl, but being on the recieving end of such meaningful glares was not a wonderful feeling. SHe hurriedly packed her satchel and lumbered up from her spot on the boulder. Her hip was still a little stiff, even though she'd plucked the stiches just the night before. She supposed she could run if she was careful not to hit her hip upon anythign...

She scattered back when the nobleman bowed to her, mistaking the whoosh of air as a signal of attack. She held her hands up defensively, ready to fight until she could properly read the situation.

"The Lady may ride with us..."

The word lady hurt her ears. She never did like the northern language. It did not roll off the tongue as easily as words of her home language. And after hours of speaking in her old tongue, and listening to a childs babbling murmurs, perfectly formed speech grated her eardrums. It was all she could do not to cover them. It was harder for her to form a reply.

"I would.. alae... b...but I walked h..here. I have no mount."

She raised her satchel onto her shoulder and lifted her bow from where it lay, "Shall I return by myself?"