Sacrosanct and Sacrilege

[Witchblade]

((Closed))


It was not like every other city.

It was not like every other region.

It was something she’d never seen before. It was an amazement that rose a hundred feet above the murky waters of the swamp below. Breathtaking. Suthainn was the place she’d dreamed of yet never seen. It looked as if it were growing straight from the ancient trees it was built upon. Their massive trunks provided the perfect kind of support for the structures and homes that seemed carved into their very side, or just built from them. Even the rope bridges that intersected in a confusing pattern of lines going from one tree to the next, from one level to the next. It was amazing. How such a thing existed she didn’t know. And the races! People did not surround her; in fact she had not smelled a human since she left the port of Talmhaidh. No, the beings, the creatures that were all around her were Draconians with another race that were similar to humans and yet so different. They were Fae. Both were mystical and magical races whispered about as the flames of the fire burned down to embers.

For the first time in her life Witchblade found herself utterly speechless and stunned.

She couldn’t remember the last time she had actually enjoyed traversing within the limits of a city. She hated travelling into Radasanth, shunned all the Raiaeran cities and rarely if ever went into Irrakam. They were not for her. They were filled with humans and their filth and their disgusting greed. Here was different. She could feel it in the air. There was no pollution from the mechanical mess that was overcoming Alerar; instead there was something else. It was as if the very region itself was teeming with a kind of magic. It vibrated through the air and carried into every living creature.

Astonishing.

Taking a deep breath, the halfling smiled softly, an action that gently pulled on the strings that kept her mouth shut. She didn’t mind, didn’t care. The pain of that had become a constant she was used to and barely felt now anyway, but even if she could she would have ignored it. Reaching a hand up, she pushed back the black hood that concealed her face, and threw back the length of her cloak. There was no need to cover herself here. Not when there were Draconians and Fae flying through the air. It almost made her want to spread her wings and fly with the rest of them. But that was a painful process bound to grab the attention of someone she didn’t want to.

Despite the fact that everything was built so high up and most of the structures had ropes supporting them, it was all extremely stable. As her feet slowly carried her to the middle of a rope bridge, the halfling noticed that it barely swayed on her steps. In fact, even as a much larger and heavier Draconian passed by her it still barely moved.

Stopping in the middle of the bridge, Witch wrapped her fingers around the coarse rope of a railing and looked down. The height was impossible to judge, not because she couldn’t, but because a thick swirling fog blanketed everything below her making visibility very low. She couldn’t even see the swamp below. There was no murky water for her to gaze down upon, instead all she saw was a shifting form of white that seemed to constantly move as if it had a mind of it’s own. It was mesmerizing. Moving her gaze from the dense fog to the towering, ancient trees and then finally up to the canopy, the halfling gave a small sigh of content. This was a place she could call home in an odd way. It felt so natural; they lived as one with their surroundings instead of destroying them and taking what they needed.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?”

Every muscle in her body tensed for a brief second before slowly releasing itself. Even her fingers wrapped around the rope and dug into the flesh of her palm before she managed to release her death grip. She had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed someone stop behind her. Then again, there had been people passing her by from time to time, any one of them could have stopped. Still, she didn’t like the idea that her guards had been down. No matter how tranquil the place she shouldn’t leave herself open like that.

Feeling the rope she was leaning against shift, the halfling looked to the newcomer without turning her head. From the corner of her eyes she could make out one rather large looking Draconian male. His skin was a dark tanned colour and the scales that covered his body were black, black like his eyes. Like Daegun’s eyes. That’s what they reminded her of. The eyes of her baby dragon were pure black with no white and no discernable pupil. This Draconian had the exact same thing. She almost began to wonder if it was a dragon thing or unique to the race.

Realizing she was staring and not answering him, Witch went to reply with her telepathy. The fact that her mouth was sown shut made it extremely hard for her to communicate like anyone else would. Then again, she was not very social so it wasn’t usually something she had to worry about. However, as her mind subtly tried to find a way into his head she realized there was a mental barrier keeping her out. She didn’t know how strong it was, but if she poked at it hard enough he would feel her and perhaps even feel threatened. The last thing she wanted to do was piss off a Draconian. Witch had quickly learned from the merchants she travelled with from Corone that the Draconians only gave respect when respect was given to them and angering them was not a smart thing to do. That being said, Witch was never one to listen to the advice of others.

She decided to play it safe for now though.

“Hmmm…”

“Is this your first time here?”

His words were laced with a thick accent that made some of the letters seem longer than they really were. And he rolled his r’s sometimes. What surprised her though, was the fact that she could hear an extremely different language being spoken all around her and yet he spoke fluent Tradespeak.

She nodded her head in response to him, not really knowing what else to do.

“You don’t talk much do y—” He was turning to look at her as he said it and when his eyes landed on the strings holding her mouth shut his sentence was cut off. The scales that ran down his brow and onto his cheeks made it harder for her to tell his facial expression, but it was somewhere between amazed, embarrassed and perhaps a little fascinated. It was the first time she herself almost felt embarrassed for having it happen to her with the way he was looking at her.

Turning her head slightly to him, she smirked and shrugged her shoulders.

“Och, that must have hurt. Why nah just remove them?”

She rolled her eyes and then tapped the side of her head. When he didn’t get the hint she gave his mental barrier a shove. It wasn’t a very strong one; she could probably break it if she wanted to. When he felt it, the look on his face changed instantly. His nostrils flared and his eyes narrowed. Her heart leapt into a running beat that made adrenaline begin pumping through her veins. For a brief moment she thought he was going to attack her and part of her welcomed it. Reluctantly though, he lowered his barrier against her.

“Yes, this is beautiful, yes this is my first time here and no, I can’t remove them. They’re magically sealed and I have yet to find a way to cut them.”

[Rigor Mortis]

It was something to be desired.

The city of Suthainn opened up before him, showing him the dark crevices between houses and stores, the location of the guard, and even the occasional resting spot. The treetops suited him well, accentuated by the giant leaves that spread across the canopy of the trees. He currently crouched under one, surveying the marketplace, learning the inner workings of each and every one of the merchants, consumers, and most important of all, the guards.

“Fools.”

Rain fell heavily and often on Suthainn and its inhabitants, drenching them with its effect. Rex’s experience in all sorts of weather had numbed him to the chilling touch, but the draconians had other ideas. It was this way he intended to make his living, feasting off the goods leftover by the draconians as they hustled to get inside.

They would have no idea what sort of flood hit them, not even the typhoon himself. He would rob them blind of their wares, because well, after all, they didn’t deserve them. Rex justified himself by saying he was the only one worthy of this cargo; moreover, it would be a sin to let it all go to waste.

Something disturbed the human, however. A rain had just recently struck the city of Suthainn, a fact he discerned from the actions of these bustling crowds. According to his judgments, these people knew when the next rain would be along, which did not bode well for the young ronin. He decided that he had to take matters into his own hands. With a short bound forward, Rex landed softly on top of the makeshift house in front of him. With a slight drop, he landed in a semi-dark alleyway.

Inching slightly forward to help make his progress unnoticed, Rex peeked into the clearing. No one had seemed to notice his movement, which pleased him. His ability to move around quietly was slowly improving, which helped him with his adopted way of life; theft. He went back down the alleyway, coming out the other side slowly. There was only one other person nearby, who was busy with his own effects, and so Rex left him to his business as he walked down into a rope bridge.

As he surveyed the breathtaking scenery around him, Rex couldn’t help but marvel. It was a wonder how these crude dragons had created something so natural and beautiful that existed in secret. Practically no one on Althanas knew about this place, which, according to Rex, was unfortunate. The trees dropped off swiftly below him, disappearing into a void of white fog. He couldn’t see it now, but the swamp that had given him so much trouble was under it. It made him shudder when he thought about the ordeals he went through, trying to traverse that swamp.

As he looked down at the bridge off to the left, he noticed two people in discussion. A further look revealed a woman who did not look like a draconian, a practical impossibility in this desolate town. He was certain he was the only visitor, and his ability to keep tabs on situations was one of his most important.

Circling around to investigate the situation, Rex quickly hopped a few tree trunks and leapt onto a low outcropping hidden by overhanging leaves. He couldn’t hear any words exchanged, but he could tell the male was trying to get the woman’s attention. After a few moments, she turned to face him, and Rex held a gasp.

She was awe-inspiring, a true tribute to the rebellious Athenian woman. Rex had been disgusted by all of the women he had run across, trying to seduce him and woo him. To him, they were all sluts. They wanted nothing but pleasure, and disgraced themselves in their stampede for it. This woman, however, he could tell that she was special. In fact, even from this far a distance, he could see that she was beautiful. The two seemed to be conversing now, but Rex was still unable to place words.

“How…” he whispered to himself, confused. In all his studies, he had never come across a pair communicating without words. He considered himself the best scholar in the world, and he had known the nature behind everything to this point. This, however, stumped him. He wanted to step forward and ask, but he knew it would be too intruding; he instead decided to wait and see what the woman would do first.

After all, she had been the first one to catch his eye.

[Witchblade]

She wasn’t very good at talking socially; in fact she couldn’t remember the last time she’d spoken to someone just for the sake of talking to them. When she was forced to speak with others she kept it as brief as possible and asked them only for the information she needed. There was no idle conversation about how beautiful the day was, what the weather was like and whether or not the civil war going on in Corone was going to end soon. To say the truth, the war in Corone had a lot to do with her travelling lately. Concordia was no longer very safe and as much as she enjoyed carnage and bloodletting, she was not in the mood to participate in a war she didn’t care about, not right now anyway. Maybe later.

“You’re a telepath!”

Well, he was a quick one.

Just what exactly was she doing standing here talking to him? She should be exploring and looking for something to keep her occupied. Dheathain was rumoured to have some very interesting treasures lying around and she was most definitely interested in acquiring a few of those treasures. It wasn’t that she actually needed anything, she had more than enough weapons, but it passed the time and occasionally she did find something rather useful.

Surprisingly enough, the Draconian before her did not seem too put off by the fact that she smirked and chuckled at his excited response. She was mocking him in her head and he probably didn’t even care.

“So where do you come from?”

Good question, where exactly did she come from?

“Everywhere… and nowhere.”

It was a true statement. She travelled anywhere she wanted to and yet did not have a home in any of these places. Concordia was the closest thing to a home she could call her own, but that was only because she found areas so deep within the forest that humans rarely travelled there. It was a place of quiet and solitude where she didn’t have to listen to the voice in her head and where she didn’t have to cover herself for worry of being attacked as a vampire or demon.

“Och, a wandering adventurer. Nay, I would classify you as a warrior more so than an adventurer mayhap.”

At least he wasn’t stupid and used those large black eyes on his face.

He bowed his head to her, “I am Tristram dar Darren, I do believe ‘tis of a custom in some regions to shake hands…” He held out his hand to her.

His o’s sounded rather long.

“I’m sure it is. My name is Witchblade.”

She didn’t touch anyone, ever, unless it was absolutely necessary and even then she probably wouldn’t. He didn’t seem too put off by this or her answer, he just retracted his hand with a little embarrassment lining his features. Or, she was sure it was embarrassment. She wasn’t that great at reading emotions across faces and as he had permitted her into his head she didn’t feel like prying into it. He would probably be able to sense it and then she’d have a pissed off Draconian on her hands.

“Witchblade, ‘tis an odd sort’a name.”

She nodded her head. That it was, but it was hers and the only one she could ever remember having. She was rather certain she’d been born with something much different than that, but it was long since lost to her.

Turning her gaze from him back to the scenery, the halfling watched as a flock of birds the colour of a bright flame flew passed her and down into the mists below them. Why the Draconian beside her was still talking to her she didn’t know. She had yet to show him any respect outside of not insulting him or attacking him. Perhaps he had some kind of fascination with outsiders; after all it didn’t look like this city received many at all. Talmhaidh was probably the only place in Dheathain that many travellers went to, too scared to go anywhere else because of the big bad Draconians.

“I donna mean ta pry, but you donna smell like a human…”

Smell? Now that was interesting, she didn’t know that Draconians had such heightened senses. Then again it would make sense if they have some dragon in them.

“That’s not very surprising as I’m not human.”

“What are ye then?”

“It’s not your business or concern what I am.”

Real smooth.

Hearing the silence beside her, Witch glanced from the corner of her eyes to Tristram who was watching her rather carefully; he didn’t look all that offended. He had been prying and she didn’t like it when people pried in her life. It didn’t matter what she was.

“Yer rucksack is moving…”

Blinking a few times at the sudden change in topic, the halfling twisted her head around to see just the corner of her rucksack shifting with movement. Sure enough, within a few more seconds the small head of Daegun emerged from the flap of the rucksack. One small mouth opened in a large yawn, revealing a row of sharp, white teeth that blended in perfectly with his white scales. The only thing that really stuck out on him were his large, pure black eyes very much like the Draconians beside her.

“Is that a baby dragon?”

“Yes… now if you’ll excuse me…”

Saying nothing more, the halfling turned and began walking to the end of the rope bridge, leaving the Draconian a little confused and more than a little curious.

[Rigor Mortis]

As he crouched, spying on the woman, Rex couldn’t shake the feeling. He had been there for only a few moments, and he was already… dare he say it?

This is boring.

Rex began to wonder if his initial emotion of ecstasy had been merely that, and nothing more. As he watched the strange lady and draconian converse, Rex couldn’t see anything interesting that would justify his initial instincts.

Dejected, Rex turned to leave, but just as he did so, he saw something out of the corner of his eye. Something was moving in her knapsack.

“Hmm? I wonder what that is…”

He turned back, intrigued. His patience was rewarded as his eyes came to rest upon a peculiar creature, one that his books had only lightly touched upon. If his knowledge wasn’t failing him, that creature was a baby dragon, a mighty rare critter in the world of Althanas.

“Holy crap! I gotta have that!” The words echoed from his lips, and Rex clapped his hands over his mouth almost as quickly as they escaped from his maw.

Rex nodded to himself, defiant that the dragon was his reason to step in. After all, it was his duty to relieve everyone of objects they didn’t deserve. It was clear to Rex that the dragon was unworthy for the lady, and he must take it himself. He hopped off the house, lightly landing on the ground with a soft thud. Rex stepped up to the edge of the rope bridge, facing down towards the pair. He placed his hands on his hips, assuming false authority. Rex thought it might be amusing to see if they would acknowledge his attempt at dominance.

“Excuse me, miss,” Rex began, flicking his nose, “I’m afraid I’m going to have to confiscate that dragon of yours.”

Tristram heard the intruding voice, and his gaze followed his ears. Displeased with the interruption between himself and the woman, he stepped between the two, hand trailing behind to guide the lady behind him.

“Who the hell are you?" His eyes scanned Rex, and then once he realized, he snorted disgustedly. "Don’t you know humans aren’t welcome here?” Rex noticed the emphasis of his contempt toward humans, and took the hint. He had little experience with the draconians, and figured they had some reason to hate the common race, but still, he couldn’t pass up the opportunity to come into the possession of a real live dragon.

“I have no business with you,” Rex replied. “If you’ll kindly step out of the wa—”

“Yeah? What if I don’t?” Tristram interrupted, taking a step forward. His nostrils flared and smoke drizzled outwards, wisping off into the dimming sky. Rex could sense Tristram’s patience dissipating.

“I was just asking a question,” Rex deflated quickly. “Just calm down. I just have business with that woman behind you, and well, to make it blunt, you’re in the way.”

Rex hoped that the draconian wouldn’t make a big deal out of his interest, but his wish was denied as Tristram stepped forward again, this time encroaching the neutral zone between the two. Rex backed a little, unwilling to fight such a fearsome creature. At full length, a draconian reached well over six feet, and their muscles bulged with every pounding step. If the intimidation didn’t win you over, the first look of their razor-sharp fangs usually caused the wary challenger to throw down his weapon.

“I saw her first,” he said. “If you want to talk to her, you’re going to have to go through me.” He unclenched his claws rather menacingly. Rex unclipped one of his tomahawks automatically as a method of self-defense, though he really didn’t want to have to use it.

Especially if the woman was watching.

[Witchblade]

She couldn’t believe it. Not only the audacity of the human thinking he could just do as he pleased, but also the Draconian. He was actually defending her and trying to shield her from the human. It was slightly insulting. Witchblade didn’t need protection from anyone. Yet, it was also surprising, as she couldn’t remember the last person besides her pet that had tried to protect her. The Draconian didn’t even know her, what gave him the right to protect her and what made him think he should? Was it because she was a female, or did the last few minutes of conversation actually mean something to him?

The human was just plain suicidal. Either that or there was nothing but air between his ears. She may not have been in Dheathain for long, but even she knew Draconians were a force to be reckoned with. She wasn’t even crazy enough to attack one for no reason. The human clearly had more bark than bite and he was going to learn his place very shortly. But not by the Draconian. It would be a cold day in Fallien before she willingly let someone defend her.

“I need no protection.”

Her telepathy was an open link now. The human would be able to hear her clearer than if she were actually speaking with him. His pathetic and weak mind didn’t even have any kind of protection or barrier to keep her out. At least the Draconian had a mental block that he’d willingly lowered to allow her access to his thoughts. This one was merely an open book that anyone could rifle through and read the pages. That being said, she wasn’t necessarily interested in what his mind had to offer. He was just a human after all, it’s not like there would be anything interesting going on in there.

Tristram seemed to tense slightly when she replied to his courteous display of machism. He head turned to the side and he peered at her from the very corner of his eyes. He didn’t acknowledge her though. Instead he turned his attention back to the measly human in front of the two of them.

Grinding her teeth in annoyance, the halfling began to step around the Draconian. He was attempting to block the path of the rope bridge with his body, unfortunately for him the bride had a span of about four or five feet, so she easily slipped passed him.

“Stubborn dragon.” From the corner of her eyes she could actually seem him smirk at her comment. Smirk!

“You want my dragon, human?” Though the words were sent through her mind, the contempt she felt for him and his race was still perfectly clear.

He’d already sealed his fate. No matter his answer right now, the moment he had drawn his weapon he might as well have stamped the seal himself. Oh, she wasn’t going to kill him. No she was going to teach him a lesson, one he wouldn’t soon forget. One where his pride was going to be crushed along with a few body parts. After all, she didn’t want him to get up too easily. This human was going to learn just how weak he was and Witch was going to enjoy every second it took to teach him.

“You don’t deserve such a creature. I shall liberate it from you.” He sounded so noble and prissy as he said that, like he truly believed and meant every word of it.

Liberate it? Daegun was not an it, he was a dragon. He may not be very large, or very scary, or even very strong, but he was her dragon. And he helped keep the loneliness away, loneliness that could drive a person mad. There was no way she was going to hand him over without a fight, especially to a human. Especially to a weak human.

Witch didn’t feel much strength at all coming from him. He would be lucky if he could hold his own against her for more than a minute. Then again, she knew never to underestimate her prey. They could prove to be much more powerful than she initially thought. It had happened to her before.

“If you want Daegun so badly, come and take him.” Not taking her eyes off the human for a second, Witch addressed the pet that had started this whole thing. “Daegun, you know what to do.”

Her little dragon made a cute, high pitched rumbling sound and proceeded to climb out of her rucksack the rest of the way. He little clawed paws landed on her shoulder and helped hoist him up into a sitting position before he jumped to the ground. Against all the green and brown, his white and silver scales stood out drastically. Shrugging her shoulders, the halfling let her rucksack slip down her arms and land on the ground with a rather audible thud in the growing silence. Then her fingers were working on the clasp of her cloak. Quickly, she dispensed of that and allowed it to pool at her feet before she stepped out of it. Daegun began shoving the garment into her rucksack and then dragging it and himself off to the side.

Without her cloak hiding most of her body, both the Draconian and the human could get a look at her. She wore all black. Leather pants and a plain cotton shirt that was held together with string all up the front of it. The strings were kept loose around her chest, revealing quite a bit of flesh. Besides all of that were a multitude of weapons on her person. The most notable of these was the one the cloak had been hiding. On her back was a massive sword, from tip to tip it measured six feet, the width being about a foot and the handle itself taking a good foot off the length. That allowed her to secure it high on her back. Still, it was hard to manoeuvre with such a massive weapon. It weighed five hundred pounds and was no easy feat to use, let alone just carry it around.

Reaching behind her, Witch grabbed a hold of the handle with one hand and undid the clasp resting just below her chest with the other. The harness holding the blade in place released itself leaving the entire weight of the sword now solely supported by her one arm, which strained under it. Swinging it around to the front and grasping it with her other hand as well, Witch levelled the blade towards the human and smirked.

“Anytime…”

[Rigor Mortis]

Rex swore under his breath. How had he overseen this? In a few mere instants, he had gone from a favorable position of stealth to being overpowered by two beings obviously much more battle-worthy than he was. It was an inopportune blunder, to be sure, but what he hated most was that he hadn't even seen it coming. The draconian had visible strength, sure, but Rex had not taken his ferocity into account, especially when infuriated. The woman was different, however. Despite the distance, Rex was certain that the woman was just a weak passerby who happened to have her hands on a dragon. But as soon as he heard her speak, he knew his assumptions were completely off the mark. She spoke... without her lips.

It was compelling. It was amazing. Rex had never seen anything like it before. How was she doing it? It was an interesting question, one Rex wanted to figure out without seeming stupid. As she spoke, Rex eyed Tristram warily. The draconian was not too happy after Rex's intrusion and the lady's subsequent reaction. His nostrils were flaring and his eyes were wide. Rex decided not to bother with him at the moment.

"How do you do that?" Rex cocked his head in wonder. "I can hear you talk... but you're not even moving your lips. It's like you're inside my head..." Rex suddenly realized. "Ugh! That's creepy! Get out! Now!" He stumbled backwards clumsily, struggling to fight the woman's presence. He could feel her probing his brain, and he was powerless to resist. It was a horrible feeling.

"Stop! What are you doing, you... you... freak!" Through his entire fit, Rex had failed to hear or see the woman's threats, both verbal and physical, as evidenced by the massive sword now pointing at him. Rex stopped flailing suddenly. He dragged his eyes upwards, until they met the woman's gaze. He shuddered, re-evaluating her.

"Note to self - woman much more powerful than imagined," he told himself.

Noticing that he was still holding his tomahawks, Rex put them away, hoping the two would see that as a sign of truce and do so themselves. Moments, passed, and neither moved. Rex swore under his breath again, trying to think quickly to escape this perilous situation.

"I heard that dragons make good pets," Rex began, causing Tristram to cock his head in fetid interest. "Hey, wait a minute..." he turned to Tristram, "aren't you a dragon?" Rex took this opportunity to taunt him, thinking that he would be unable to do anything thanks to the woman's presence.

When Tristram roared and started moving forward to engage him, Rex took that as a sign of initiation, turned the other way, and started to sprint. If he could use his superior running to escape the two, he would have more time to figure out another way to take that dragon for his own. While he was looking over his shoulder to see if the two were in pursuit, however, a small draconian child took this opportunity to hop playfully into his path. Rex plowed foward into the child. As he collided, his knee came foward and burst the child across the face, causing her to cry unmercifully. Rex halted his progress and turned his attention to the wailing babe. He apologized time and time again, but his attempts were in vain as the draconian kept crying. At this time, a bigger draconian walked up and tapped Rex on the shoulder. Rex backed away from the child, understanding that the draconian was her mother. Rex apologized to the mother, just as Tristram came running behind.

"What'd you do to her?" he screamed, claws bared.

"I didn't do anything!" Rex yelled back, moving away from the incident. "I certainly didn't run into her while trying to run away from you!"

"You ran into my daughter," he seethed, "intentionally? I'll kill you!"

"It wasn't like that!" Rex pleaded, but Tristram was already upon him. Rex nimbly dodged his assault and darted away. The situation was rapidly escaping from him, almost as fast as he was trying to get away from Tristram. At this point, the lady and the dragon were a formality in the back of his mind.

[Witchblade]

She burst out laughing. Despite the fact that the movement caused the strings holding her mouth shut to pull and slightly tear into her flesh, she did it anyway. How could she not? The human had just turned tail and fled from Tristram, only to run into the Draconian’s daughter and knee her right in the face. When the Draconian caught up to him, that human is going be in a world of pain. It was his own fault though, threatening the two of them in such a way. Perhaps he had thought her just another frail woman who could not even begin to understand the basics of fighting. Sad, but many human males did view their female counterparts as weaker than themselves. This was why she enjoyed Fallien. The region was ruled by women and men gave the utmost respect to them. Shame not every region could be like that.

Still chuckling to herself, Witch swung her sword around to her back and used her telekinesis to tighten and latch it into place, one clamp at a time. After a minute or two, The Rot Slayer was once again neatly secured to her back. There was no use in her chasing down the human. Even though quite a few of her predatory instincts demanded she do so, she had no interest in it. If he had stayed to fight she would have gladly torn him limb from limb, but now that he had fled most of her interest was gone. She’d let the Draconian catch up to him and dish out exactly what the human deserved. In the meantime, she was here to explore and perhaps find some interesting things that cannot be found elsewhere.

Now that the thread of battle was over, Daegun came over to her as quickly as he could. One of the straps from her rucksack was firmly situated within his mouth and using his strength, he slowly dragged the bag over to her and laid it at her feet.

“Thank you.”

He let out some kind of purring noise and stood on his hind legs, resting his front paws on her knees. Shaking her head, the halfling bent down and scratched him under the chin before she reached over and grabbed her rucksack. From within she pulled out her cloak and quickly threw it back over her shoulders. The material completely hid The Rot Slayer from view, leaving only the handle of the blade to stick out at a slight angle behind her head. Most people paid it little to no attention anyway. After her cloak was on, she slipped her arms into the straps of her rucksack and adjusted the bag until it rested comfortably on her shoulders.

“Let’s go, Daegun.”

Daegun ran out in front of her on the bridge, the claws on his paws making a tapping sound with each step that he took. Her own boots barely made any noise along the wooden planks. If she wanted to she could be as silent as a ghost, but there was no point. It wasn’t like she was sneaking up on someone to slit their throat before they even knew she was there. Heh, it’s definitely been a long time before she’d done something of that nature. Almost a shame really. It could be so much fun to see how far you can come to a human before they realize you’re there. Still, this was not the place to do such a thing.

At the other end of the rope bridge, Witch found herself standing at the edge of some kind of platform. It was a monstrous branch that had been reinforced with wood and dirt to look almost like the ground of any normal village or city. There were even some plants growing in various areas that someone had purposefully put there. Buildings were lined up on either side, most of which she could easily guess to be people’s homes. She wasn’t about to go knocking on the front door and find out though. But there were a variety of Draconians milling about, most of them playing with small children. For the most part as she walked by them, they barely took heed of her. But there were some--especially the young ones--that decided it wasn’t blatantly rude to stare at her as she passed. Their words echoes in the air and floated to her ears, a mingle mess of syllables she could not understand. She probably could if she looked into their heads but she didn’t want to, especially if Tristram was any indication of Draconian strength. He’d had a mental barrier to keep people like her out after all.

The halfling needed to figure out where she was going though. She couldn’t just randomly wander around a city this large and hope to come across something interesting. Then again, this whole place was interesting to her.

[Rigor Mortis]

"Now then, how would you die? Slowly, or painfully?" Tristram stopped for a moment, realizing the irony of his question. "Never mind. You're going to die... both ways!"

Rex stumbled, unattaching his battle axe from his back and then grasping the handle with both hands nervously. He hoped it wouldn't come to this, but if he had to fight the draconian, he would. After a certain point, his cowardice would be too much for even him. He would have to stand up for himself and his faults. After all, he had blundered many times since his initial idea to spy on the pair. He had to fix it somehow, and get them off his back. By putting up a decent fight, he could prove that he deserved to live.

"Kill him, Daddy! Kill that mean human!"

Rex stopped suddenly, dumbfounded. The little girl whom he had hurt was now jumping up and down, cheering for her dad. Rex marveled not only at the girl's fluency with Common, but more importantly at her earnest for violence. It was irregular, especially with a girl her age.

"What, you teach your daughter how to fight?" Rex asked coyly, circling away from the girl, eyes on Tristram. "You must be proud of her."

"Mind your own buisness," Tristram growled, claws bared. "You should be concerned with your impending doom." He took this opportunity to lunge forward, slashing wildly at Rex's abdomen. The human nimbled avoided the haphazard assault, suddenly realizing his advantage.

"My doom? Don't you mean your daughter's?" Rex circled back towards her, axe raised.

"Don't you dare touch her!" Tristram yelled, dashing forward, claws outstretched. Rex smiled, and moved just out of the way as he stormed past. As Tristram whisked by, however, he adjusted the path of his arm and managed to catch Rex by surprise. His claws raked the human's forearm, tearing cloth and drawing blood. The crimson goo burst forth, staining what remained of the cloth.

Rex grunted in alarm, clutching his wound tightly. He hadn't intended to be hit so soon, especially while he was still working the draconian's emotions. This moral victory would only help to clear his vision. Rex struggled to hide his pain and continued his rants.

"Haven't you even considered what your daughter will think of you if you kill someone else?" Rex was becoming desperate now, unwilling to commit to an actual fight with the enraged native. His verbal attacks were growing less frequent in effect, the wound detracting from his physical and emotional

The human didn't want to lose his life in an unfamiliar place, especially one as hostile as this. If he disappeared eternally, he wanted someone to care about it, so he wouldn't be completely forgotten. If anything, Rex's main goal was to become a somebody, someone that people look up to, or at least fear. If he could strike horror into the heart of an innocent bystander, then he considered his job complete. That certainly hadn't been the case in this town, which Rex was unhappy about.

"Good. She could stand some first-hand experience," Tristram smiled. Rex hadn't realized the nature of the draconian; he merely assumed he himself was a violent person, not a violent personality. It stunned him to realize that draconians were different from himself, something that he never actually was able to comprehend from his studies. After experiencing the ferocity and guardianship of these draconians, Rex was able to confirm that his studies would no longer serve him in his adventures. They might provide him with some otherwise unobtainable information, but what Rex truly lacked was experience. It was something that needed to be fixed, to be sure, but it would take time. The experience would sink in eventually, just as some of it did now.

First, Rex had to live past the next few minutes.

Raising his battle axe over his head, Rex took a wild swing at Tristram, who was looking at his daughter. She noticed Rex's swing, and pushed her father as hard as she could. Despite his size, she managed to push him far enough so that Rex's attack missed entirely. Tristram, while at first stunned, suddenly smiled at his daughter.

"Thanks, Celos!"

He took another slash at Rex with his claws, more focused now than before. Rex stepped backwards to dodge it while frowning at his failed attempt. He returned his axe to its crest, and then turned and dashed to a nearby tree, nimbly climbing up the branches easily. From this higher point of view Rex stood, glaring at the trio. He had to end this somehow.

"Listen, we should make a truce. I'm getting tired, I know you're getting tired, and we're getting nowhere just fighting like a bunch of hard-nosed brats. You have a daughter to take care of, and I already apologized for hurting her. What do you say?"

Rex paced in his mind nervously, awaiting the enraged draconian's answer. Somehow, the human knew it wasn't going to be good.

[Witchblade]

With thoughts of the human and the Draconian away from her mind, Witchblade continued to explore Suthainn. It was an almost maze like city, with different levels and dozens of rope bridges connecting everything together. But there seemed to be a kind of methodology to the madness apparently surrounding her. Each section was only connected to those closest to it, above, below and directly across from. One would have to travel the long way through each area if they truly wanted to get from one end of the city to another. Unless of course one just flew, which seemed to be the easiest and quickest way around in this place. In fact, the whole thing seemed designed to make it easier for any winged kind of creature, including her. Unfortunately, the halfling was not one to show her wings off to just about anyone. She only called upon them when she truly needed to. Patience came in large amounts where she was concerned and a walk through the city would probably be nice. She could map out the area and mark any interesting places within her mind.

From the corner of her eyes, Witch caught sight of a building unlike any other she had yet to pass by. Stopping, she turned her head and examined the large structure that was carved straight from the tree itself. In fact, the way it was built, made it seem as though it were an extra appendage from the very trunk, something that had grown there rather than been created by the hand of some race. Most of the structure appeared to be hidden within the tree itself, leaving the front as the only thing visible. Coupled with intricately carved pillars in twisting designs that almost confused her eyes, were stone carvings the first she had seen here. The doors to the place were carved from a white stone, slightly faded from the years. Upon the surface was a tremendous battle in which two beings seemed the main focus. A Draconian man and woman, both clad in armour and carrying their respective weapons.

As she drew closer, the halfling could see that the two figures looked rather alike besides their respective gender separations. In fact, the female seemed to be the dominating factor on the battlefield with her spear in hand while the male—who wore much more armour—was clearly attempting to protect her. Very interesting. What was also quite amazing was within the carved wooden pillars were glowing blue crystals that slowly spun around in a continuous circle. The fact that they glowed wasn’t very incredible; it was her curiosity as she wondered just how they were placed within the wood itself, as there were no openings bigger than an inch.

While she had been standing there staring at everything around her, the door in front of her had opened. Clad in a brilliant black armour and looking non too happy, a Draconian female had nearly run her over. The woman glared down at her. And Witch--never one to submit to anyone--glared back without bothering to get out of her way. She shoved passed her and the two of them exchanged blatant challenges without words until the female was quite a few feet away. Once Witch could no longer see her, she turned and entered the building, her fingers brushing along the slightly porous stone as she walked inside.

The inside was even more beautiful than the outside. Clearly not someone’s house, the halfling was beginning to suspect this was some sort of temple or church. Whatever the race here called it, it was becoming exceedingly obvious that some kind of worship was held here. The inside was once again filled with intricate woodwork that ran along columns. The walls were covered in tapestries and the ceiling was one giant mural of another great battle yet in the sky above the battle was some kind of haven. It looked like a large house, or temple, she couldn’t be sure. After all, she knew nothing about what kinds of Gods or Spirits this race worshipped. But the fact that they actually believed in such a thing irritated her.

More fake Gods…

Looking down at her feet, Witch found her dragon still at her side. For a moment she had forgotten he was out of the rucksack and as the door closed behind her she had worried he’d been left alone. But faithful as ever he had followed her inside. He too seemed entranced by what was around them as his large black eyes whipped from one side of the room to the next.

As she walked around the large, oval and mostly empty room, the halfling learned that almost everything within it depicted battle in one way or another.

At the end of the room, Witch quickly noticed two doorways leading off in opposite directions. Not wanting her curiosity to be wasted, she chose the one on the left and began walking through the hallway. It curved into a gradual crescent like shape that eventually took her to a slightly smaller room than the first. This one was completely different. Cruder, rougher and more in tune with everything else she had seen in the Draconian city so far. In fact, it seemed that the only things in the room were various altars. One of which reeked of blood. So much so that she couldn’t even separate the different races that were probably slaughtered upon the rough, wood block stained black.

One of the other altars in the room was covered in raw metals, feathers and jewels of a hundred different colours and shapes. But the one that caught her attention the most was the central altar. The biggest in the room. It looked as if offerings to those two people she had seen depicted so much were placed upon and around the altar. Weapons and armour of all kind littered the ground and the altar. There were even some things lining the pile she’d never seen before. And all of them were going to waste of some stupid false Gods.

Reaching out, Witch grabbed a short sword from the pile. Her touch disturbed some of the other items around it and caused a small clatter of metal on metal as things shifted in their place. The sword itself appeared to be a slightly smaller version of a Katana, the kind of which she could never remember the name of.

“Put that down!”

The words were a growl that echoed in the room. Any other person might have jumped out of their skin and nearly had their heart explode in their chest. Witch was not any other person though. Instead of doing that, she calmly turned to the rather pissed off looking Draconian and placed the blade back upon the pile. He was clad in some kind of black robe that almost made him look like a monk. But as he walked towards her she could see the briefest glimpse at armour underneath.

“You can’t just come in here and grab and touch what you want. Those are offerings to The Cupla and are not to be touched by anyone, lest you anger them.”

She had no idea what ‘The Cupla’ were, but she could guess they were the twin Draconians she had seen in all the carvings and paintings. False entities she had no real concern for angering.

“Shame to allow such things to go to waste…”

Whether or not he heard her, she didn’t care. Instead, Witch turned and began to head out of the temple. She’d be back, when the night set and there was no one around. Then, she could touch and take all she wanted to…