MQ: To The Heart

[Artifex Felicis]

Very little had changed while Leon was in the Turlin tower, though many more elves were beginning to move in two directions. One, where many of the males and stronger looking fighters were going, was towards Eluriand's wall. The other group, consisting of some supplies, as well as younger kids and women, headed the other way and towards some exit out of the city. The sight wasn't something the cat boy stuck around to sit and watch however.

He made good time across the city, making it back to his room that he has risen from not long ago. The elven girl was gone now, and the bed hurriedly made up to keep some vestige of cleanliness. The cat boy scurried around the room for a moment, grinning widely at finding one of the elf girl's forgotten pieces of clothing. What Leon was looking for was safely stored in the closet however. There were simple things, and their purposes were all fairly easy to understand.

He took the bell out first, looping it around his neck so it let out a merry jingle. It was a shiny little thing, and brightened the dark closet so he could see what he was doing as he picked up the other three. The shield and sword went onto his back and hip respectively. The spear he carried, holding the package from the Headmistress under his arm. The nekomata pushed the door closed and left the room as he found it. The whole process probably took him about four or five minutes.

Finding the south east gate did not take much time, and he waited there. It was heavily guarded, much like the other gates, but not as much. Currently there was only one major scouting party that would nearby the walls, with the bulk of the undead Army concentrated at the other walls. It was a very sound tactical maneuver, as it put the Turlin tower the furthest from the undead forces. The cat boy stood, feeling a little foolish. There was still an opening in the raised gate, barely high enough for the nekomata to pass under without ducking. He hoped whoever was going to help him would get there soon. The elves might close the gate soon just on principle.

[Moonlit Raven]

The undead have once more risen and move under Xem’Zund’s order. I request that you lend aid to a special group. Please be at the southeast gate before midmorning.


~Head Mistress Séregon

I stared out the window of the small rented room, watching the citizens of Eluriand hurry. To a safe place, to defend the walls or even to simply wait in some open place for their deaths, I didn't know. Truthfully, I'm not sure I completely care, but if I am asked to help I must. After all it won't take long for a war to spill across the sea and make things worse than they already are Corone. I thought honestly to myself. The air held a frantic, almost beaten note. On the cot, near Kazimir my cat-sized spider, lay a letter that I had read over a dozen times while I dressed and packed lightly. As I slipped on the last pieces of armor over the leather body suit and fastened my falchion to my belt I found myself humming a mourning dirge.

At the far edge of my perception my nerves tingled and shrieked, protesting and alerting me to the closing army of undead. If I can sense the undead inside of the city, I’d hate to see how many of them there actually are. I glanced at the note before tucking it away. Then again, there is a very good chance I’ll be seeing a lot more than I want too.

Grabbing Kazimir I placed him on top of my pack, the now familiar tickling sensation of him standing partly on top of my head to look about, comforted me. Closing my door behind me, a wave of melancholy and nervousness settled over me. I thought of the reason I was in Raiaera, newborn daughter I had ran from. I regretted that fact that those green eyes, Avery’s eyes, are what had ultimately led me to leave my daughter in the care of a co-worker in the bazaar.

I took the stairs slowly, working to push all of my worries, regrets and fears aside, they would do me no good now. By the time I stepped out into the busy street, I was calm. In the back of my mind the part of that me that I feared, turned and slowly crept to the fore, lurking and reveling in the scent of fear that perfumed the air. It took me only a few minutes to reach the southeast gate. I took up a position near the two-tailed man obviously waiting there.

“May the gods have pity on us all and let us find our rest, living and undead.” I murmured under my breath as I finally stopped humming the dirge

[Iriah Caitrak]

This is for long forgotten light at the end of the world…

Ira drew in a deep, shaky breath as her heart thudded faster against the cage of her chest. She felt frozen in place as her eyes gazed on in shock at the scene before her. It was a horror to her mind. She stood in the mist of a vast city, beautiful at one point in time that was now being marred. The stones of the buildings were cast a bright orange, a reflection of the flames that raged all around them, consuming everything they came across. Smoke was rising into the air, a black blanket that covered the sky. She couldn’t even tell if it was night or day. But that wasn’t the worst part.

The cobbled streets were running red with blood, blood that pooled in cracks and seeped out of the bodies and body parts strewn about. Countless sightless eyes stared at nothing as others around them were being ripped to pieces by horrendous creatures Ira had once run into herself. Zombies, bodies revived from their dead state yet given no soul. They were nothing more than creatures that feasted upon the living, a plague so much like the Fallen she fought. They attacked people she had never seen, people with tall, lithe frames, decorative armour and pointed ears, and these people fought back, but they were losing. Their faces just as frozen as she felt, forever screaming in the agony of what was happening to them yet being able to do nothing. Everything around her was like a macabre painting, trapped in time.

“Ira.”

She spun around at the sound of her name to see the familiar figure of Gereint, the tribe Shaman standing behind her. His weathered face looked tired and older than she remembered and his sightless eyes were underlined by a tiredness so deep they looked bruised.

“Gereint, what’s going on?”

“It’s an image I chose to show you.” He said to her as his head turned to observe the scene around them, as if he could actually see it. “It’s the future, or one of many possible futures if no one does anything about it.”

This? This was the future? Her heart ached within her breast to think that this was going to happen, or could happen.

“I have a mission for you.” Ira tore her eyes away from the grotesque image and back towards her Shaman, the tone in which he used far more grave and sad than she could ever remember hearing from him in the past. “There is a chance this future can be prevented, but it will take many. I want you to travel to Raiaera, Eluriand the Capitol to be precise. You must speak with the Headmistress of Istien, she will give you instructions to join with others who will be fighting for the same thing you are.” He paused for a moment, “This mission takes priority over your life.”

The Calerian was momentarily stunned. Gereint always insisted that their lives came before the mission, always. What was so special about this one? Could what she was doing truly help change the course of the future?

“You must leave immediately, Ira. There isn’t much time.”

The scene around her was beginning to fade to blackness and Ira knew that Gereint was cutting off their connection.

“Wait, Gereint!”

“Wait!” Ira sat up in the darkness of her room, taking in one deep breath after another. Beside her, the sleeping form of Malagen stirred, her pale demon of a lover. She could not tell if her outcry or sudden movements had woken him, but when the silence continued to tick by she assumed if it had he had resumed his slumber.

Taking a moment, Ira leaned back against the bed, allowing herself a few moments of calm, where the only sound in the room was Malagen’s steady breathing. There was a sea of turning emotions within her. Gereint hadn’t given her a mission since The Festival of the Dead, be it out of distrust or something else. She couldn’t help but feel happy over suddenly receiving one now. However, it meant she would have to leave Malagen. He wasn’t a Calerian and on top of that, Gereint’s statement about this being more important than her life worried her. Even though such a thing would not stop him, she did not want to put him in danger.

Knowing she couldn’t lay here forever, the Calerian slid out of the bed, careful not to disturb Malagen. Then she began picking up her clothes, which would have been easier if it wasn’t so dark and they weren’t strewn all over the place. She was completely dressed and just beginning to throw her various items into her rucksack when Malagen interrupted her.

“What are you doing?” His voice sounded rough, like he was still partially asleep.

Ira stopped what she was doing and turned towards him, her eyes now more adjusted able to make out his form, sitting up in their bed.

“I have to go, I just received a mission.” One that I might not come back from… She couldn’t bring herself to tell him that, then it actually sounded like she wouldn’t in her mind. Like she’d never see him again.

He threw the sheet off him and proceeded to get out of bed.

“What are you doing?” She asked him, puzzled.

“Going with you.”

She sighed, wondering if she could convince him not to. “You can’t, it’s a Calerian mission and you’re not a Calerian.” That wasn’t entirely true, this was probably going to be very different from any of her previous missions. “Remember when I took you to Purgatory when you tried to kill me? That’s where I fight and there you can’t defend yourself, you already know that. You’ll only be in the way.”

“I’m going with you.”

It appeared she hadn’t convinced him.

“Malagen, I’m being serious. You can’t… please, don’t make this any harder on me then it already is. Just… stay here. I’ll be back…” I Hope…

Instead of going back to bed, he walked right up to her and roughly pulled her against him, kissing her so deeply she almost forgot what they were talking about.


--------------------

Ira looked at the paper in her hand once more, reading the words written in Fallien upon it, telling her to go at the Southeast entrance. Looking up from it, she saw the large doors just barely open enough for people to slip through them. Already there were two people there, waiting for the same thing she was, just as Gereint said. One of them looked like nothing more than a regular female warrior, yet the other was a creature she’d never seen before. Some kind of furred being that walked on two legs and had two tails. Strange. But now was not the time for her curiosities.

Approaching the entranceway, the Calerian said nothing to either of them as she leaned against the wall. Within her she could feel the corruption stir and call, but as much as she ignored it she knew it was trying to tell her something.

[Reiko]

The cold mythril felt heavy in my hands, for the forged sword had been folded many times more than normal making it a dense blade. My eyes scanned the runes for any flaw and I could find none in the flowing elfin script on the side of the elfin shamshir. It was a perfect blade me, well, it was the best blade in the Eluriand for me. I had to get ready for the fight of my life. I had to actually be a hero to this city as one of the few that would sneak through the lines and destroy the fiend, Xem’Zund.

I had gotten a letter a while agon to make haste for the Elfin capital and prepare for the attack and to be part of the counter that would take the head. A bold plan.

My tails couldn't stop shivering, should have said no. I should have said no to the whole thing! I was a mother. Who would take care of the kits for me?

I shook my head and spoke softly to myself. "If I don't do this and they fail, then many more mothers and children would die. I have to fight. They can't." I convinced myself and made a test swing with the blade, well balanced. It would do.

"Doji Ki!" My ears rang with the words and my heart almost popped. "You have to get moving, the undead are moving in as we speak." It was the old guard that had escorted me to the shop. one of the few elfin people to show signs of actual age and not stay forever young, it was a monster that stole his youth.

"Alright, alright, I'm going." I shook the apprehension from my tails and looked for the merchant.

"No time, I'll pay for the sword. It's the company's money but your service will be priceless to us."

I hated being rushed.

"Good bye and thanks." I waved and left the store, hearing the heavy clank of coins being slammed down as I left.

The city was quiet as what was left went about their business, mostly people not wanting to leave and a couple of soldiers making sure no one started looting. The world was calm as a cloudy day before the thunderstorm came. It was all dour and so was I.

Once I came to the south east gate, the planned meeting area where I would meet my companions. They were there and I was last to arrive to the group. I knew two out of three of them.

"Hey! Leon, Elena!" I called and waved, feeling much better than before and my heart warmed up to see my old friends. "I can't belive we're the ones who's going to save this place." I lightened up with a warm smile and embraced Elena for a moment and smiled.

I had let go and turned to Leon, saving the stranger for last. I ran and jumped into his arms for a much sweeter embrace. I sniffed lightly at his scent, a heavy musk that remained me of our night with each other and something else, something feminine, a strange girl and a scent that was not present on anyone but him... Pheromones. I released the cat boy, shocked. "You, you, you had sex with some girl! We're here to fight a war and you sleep with some girl like it was nothing. Did I mean nothing to you?" I blushed, feeling embarrassed as I looked to Elena and the new girl. Leon didn't have their scent so it wasn't them.

"Umm, sorry." I stammered as I looked to the stranger. "I'm Doji Ki, kyubi and kengo of Akashima." I raised my hands in offer of a handshake, trying to save face from my outburst.

[Artifex Felicis]

The nekomata didn't stand around as he waited for the others. He paced back and forth, checking over some of his arms as well as talking to the Captain of the guard. Leon was a fairly well known face in the city of Eluriand, especially to the some of the higher-ups in the army. It did not take much in order to convince him to let Leon and whoever came with him to exit through the gate. Most of his job entailed keeping the undead out of the gate and out of Eluriand. Still, the heavy doors could only be closed once, then the song mages would weave their magics and close down the gate until Eluriand was sacked or the undead defeated. It wasn't a pleasant thought, but there were also some extra precautions taken, but as an anti-undead field around the rooftops, which would end up frying any undead that steps into it. Of course, with the sheer numbers they had, it may not last that long.

When the cat boy did all that could, he simply waited, one of his tails, the one he still thought of as his original, twitched every once in a while. Even if he was looking forward to it, a twinge of fear was still in him. It was not helping that every once in a while he saw the elves own state of mind. Many were held together simply through loyalty to their home and desperation. Leon watched their movements along the walls and behind them, one of his hands twiling some of the longer hair on his head. It was another action the cat boy did whenever he was nervous or thinking hard. It was much closer to the former now.

The others began came fairly quickly. The first was a strange, short girl with a spider. It brought a small grin to her face, as he recognized the species of spider, and how the little being was still only a baby. The other woman set off a warning bell in the cat boy's mind. It was a gut instinct in him that he learned was hard to ignore. The only true thing he could describe about the Fallien woman was that her gash was off putting. The nekomata had scars that matched it, but not in that area.There was a feeling that she was both good and holding a strong trump card close to her chest.

The last one, however, brought a happy smile to the cat boy's face. He did not often see the girl, but Doji Ki was an old friend of his. Though the term friend didn't really stretch to contain all of what they did in their relationship. The girl was also the closest thing Leon had really ever had to a real girlfriend since Morrigon, who herself did not truly count as a girlfriend so much as a roomate. He smiled at her as they embraced, marveling that she still even smiled and looked as beautiful as the last time he saw her. He let her go quickly, though his own face blushed red. It was amazing how something like love can mess with you, even in war.

[Iriah Caitrak]

Ira was neither a particularly sociable person around those she did not know, nor a quiet one, she just didn’t feel like talking very much at the moment. Her mind was else where, thinking of the last moments she had spent with Malagen back in Corone. It wasn’t their conversation that kept repeating itself over and over in her mind but the way in which he’d made love to her shortly before she’d left. It hadn’t just been sex, not to either of them. It had been something more, like he’d been trying to convey emotions to her using his hands and his mouth when words had failed him. Which reminded her of the words he’d spoken on a frozen mountain plateau when he’d thought she’d left him.

“I think I love you.”

Ever since he’d said those words she found herself repeating them over and over in her mind as if there was some mistake and flaw in them. They couldn’t be right, not from him, not from her barbarian. But it was exactly what he’d said. He thinks he loves her. Being a man so far removed from the regular emotions that people felt she knew in his mind he believed what he said, but she knew he couldn’t truly love her. He barely knew her. He probably cared about her, the same way she was just beginning to come to terms with the feelings she had for him, but he didn’t love her. When he did, he would know.

Her short reverie was broken by a sudden influx of excited words. Glancing up from some spot on the ground her eyes had been trained upon but never really looking at, the Calerian turned towards the new comer. It was another female of the same kind of thing that the boy was; only this one had nine tails peeking out from under her kimono. She appeared to know the other two people, embracing the both of them in turn. For some reason though, she underwent some kind of outburst when she hugged the male, yelling about him cheating on her with another woman.

Ira did not see the big deal about him having sex with other people. In Astaka females were allowed to have as many partners as they wished and they were not expected to stay with only one of them.

When she approached her, Ira remained rather impassive about the whole thing. She merely shook the woman’s hand as it was offered.

“Ira Shinkara, Calerian warrior and Ambassador of the Astaka tribe in Fallien.”

It was not a customary thing to shake hands in Astaka, but she was growing used to it the more time she spent out of Fallien and in the other regions on Althanas.

[Moonlit Raven]

A small smile tugged at my lips as Ki hugged me, her exuberance infectious, I hugged her back with and equal warmth. I am glad to see she’s okay. I wondered where she had disappeared to. I turned away from the sight of the embrace Ki gave Leon. For a moment, I felt a small pang of hurt and jealously. I buried the feelings and the memories of happier times with Avery.

I looked around, noting the elven soldiers that guarded the gate, their weary hardened expression barely masking the fear that shimmered in the back of their eyes. Each one I turned to look at either looked away in some other direction or dropped their gaze. I wondered if I unnerved then. Did my palled appearance remind them too much of the undead coming this way. My gaze slid over to the unknown woman that had joined us moments after Ki’s arrival. Without judgment, I looked her over until the shout of Ki’s heated then chagrinned words drew me out of my silent study.

“Elena Alexi-Nito” I hesitated, unsure of if my station made any difference, if I should even say anything about the race that had hidden themselves away for a millennium. Not bloody likely. An odd smile tugged at the corners of my mouth for a second, I squashed it before it fully formed. “Moontae Queen. My pet is Kazimir.”

I stepped around the small group into the cooler shadows of the wall and looked out the gate. The countryside, what I could see of it, looked like any other countryside I had seen before. Yet still the soldiers barked orders, peasants, mages, students and noblemen all scurried about like ants on a burning mound of wood.

“I assume we all got some form of message that we are needed.” I spoke aloud to the others without turning around. “Xem’zund is attacking this country once more. Do we have any additional information as to what our roles are to be in this? What is Xem’zund’s location? Where are his generals? Or are we expected to simply charge forward with little to no knowledge.” A familiar ticking against my cheek cut off my questions. Kazimir looked back towards the group, one of his bright yellow legs tapping my cheek. I turned back towards the trio.

“Are we expected to gather intelligence as we go?” I offered my last question to them in a politer tone despite the unease I felt. “Whatever the situation we should hurry. We stand idle and a army of monsters approaches.”

[Iriah Caitrak]

Ira released the hand of the strange looking female named Ki and turned to the third woman in this group now addressing her and giving her name. The closer the woman Elena got to her the more the corruption stirred within her soul, calling to her and screaming a mess of unintelligible words the Calerian could never hope to decipher. Part of her was curious as to what it could tell her and another revolted at the thought of communicating with such a thing. Still there was something about this Elena that unsettled her and the Calerian was going to figure it out one way or another. For now though, it was not important, the mission and the journey before them were. And the answers to all the questions posed by Elena were as well.

Glancing around, Ira eyed the nervous soldiers and the scared natives as they rushed beyond the gates. Their voices were a buzz that never seemed to die from the wind and the words upon it were nearly lost to the Calerian. Some of it was Common but that which was spoken in Raiaeran was nothing more than gibberish to her ears as she could assume Fallien would be to theirs. She understood their sense of overwhelming panic and anxiety all too well, for this was not her first war. The civil war that had broken out in Fallien had been devastating to the region and the people. No one in her generation would ever forget it or the scars it left upon the desert nation. There still lingered the threat of it reappearing, for the Harpies still roamed the mountains and the cultists still hide in their underground ruins.

Thinking about the war made her unconscious reach up and run her fingers along the vicious looking scar on her neck. The clean looking circular puncture marks closer to her jaw line, and the ragged and rough looking scar beneath it where it literally looked as if her neck had been torn open by a vicious animal. And it had, only the animal came in the guise of a human.

“Come,” Ira said, addressing the group, “We can continue our discussion outside the walls of Eluriand, time grows short.”

It was natural for the Calerian to just assume a position of authority, though this was not the most adequate mission for her to do so. She didn’t know the lay of the land, the people or even the true origins of the threat. In fact she knew very little about the threat, as the enemy was a great mystery to her. As a Calerian she could sense souls, but reanimated bodies did not have souls and therefore she could not sense them. One could stand but a foot from her and she wouldn’t know it unless she could see or hear it.

Nodding to one of the soldiers, Ira led the group out the massive gate and to the other side of a wall that spanned the entire length of the city. Never had such a simple act felt so final before. With the gate being closed behind them with a resounding thud of wood meeting stone, Ira knew she would not see the inside of that magnificent city again. Not unless the war turned in their favour. Resoundingly enough to her, the burning city that Gereint had shown her in her dream had been Eluriand.

[Reiko]

I was jealous, that must have been it. My pride was too great to admit how much of a hypocrite I was to even think about holding Leon's nightly romp against him, for I've had my own lovers and not exactly in the best places either. Something had just came over me that got my blood boiling and it pretty much fell on deaf ears. They ignored my outburst and politely gone on as if nothing happened. The scent wasn't gone and it heated my blood again.

What was wrong with me. Maybe I could slap him after the battle but we had to work together. My tails puffed up and flicked like angry cobra. I had to release my frustration and anger by sending my hand in some short slaps. Get control of yourself! Part of my mind screamed as everyone started to leave out the gate.

Elena asked some questions but I forgot to answer, I was still caring about Leon's infidelity and trying to keep my self from doing something stupid but outside the gate the cool air cooled my head.

The land outside was so pristine, the sky was a bright orange as the sun drew closer to the mountains before hiding the world from it's life giving light. The trees looked like they more alive than normal and it made it hard to think that a legion of death would come crashing down.

With the calming view of nature and the cool wind to chill the boiling blood I could remember the words and questions of my friend.

"Sorry, I was kinda of lost for a moment. Anyways I'm guessing we'll have to play by ear." I smiled in apology. Elena must think me nuts or stupid for my behavior and I really was starting to feel the same.

I probably shouldn't be here like this; Heroes and warriors need to be clear headed.

[Artifex Felicis]

The cat boy was off his ground, a formidable feat for many to do so, but apparently not hard enough to do. The other two seemed to be fairly competent people, as well as nice for once. It was a rare thing that the nekomata didn't deal with those whose egos were inflated far beyond what they could actually accomplish. Still, even if those two were indifferent, as they appeared at least, Ki still was angry with him. As good as it was to have help and see an old lover, this took a wrong turn somewhere along the line. He welcomed Ira moving all of them outside of the gate like a starving man welcomes warm, fresh bread.

The outside air was brilliant, though he could taste the corruption in the air. The magic of the Necromancer was strong, and Leon had several ideas of how it worked its way around. The most likely was that the Necromancer himself would need to be still and focused, in order to keep such a powerful spell active. Stories of risen trees, snakes, bears and even injured body parts corrupting under the enemies will reached the cat boy's ears. While it was unlikely that they could find him quickly, Leon had a sneaking suspicion that Xem’Zund was far more vulnerable now then at any other time.

“I know a few things Elena,” Leon answered openly to the group, even though only Elana asked the question. He spoke her name with a slight twist of the tongue, though he didn't notice it. He walked carefully, double checking his weaponry and trying to calm his anxious tails from betraying his emotions too much. Getting caught by Xem’Zund still seemed preferable then having Ki correctly accuse him of infidelity again. “I know that he isn't directly in front of us, but leaving through the gate closer to him would be near suicide. I saw much of the layout, and reasonably small forward party that was kinda close to this gate.”

“Besides,” The cat boy grinned a little, showing several of his pearly, and altogether too sharp, teeth. “I'm kinda certain that they are a scouting party. I didn't see anything that big or any siege weapons. So we should be good. I'm kind of hoping we'll get some information from this group, and then see how it'll go from there.”

[Moonlit Raven]

Outside the gates, listening to Leon give us what little information he had, I wondered at what suicide mission I had willingly joined. It surprised me a little that the sky did not reflect the dark actions going on in this country. I had expected a dreary day with clouds pregnant with cold rain just waiting to fall upon us. Perhaps a little fog thrown in, to add the fear of what could not be immediately seen. Instead, a beautiful sky stretch over head, dotted once in a while with clouds that looked like nothing more than fluffy cotton. Leave it to Fate and the weather to throw a person off their stride and play a joke on your. Then again what did I except? It’s not as if the weather could change from the few steps it took to leave the city.

The sound of the gates finally shutting behind us sounded like a death knell. I suppressed the shiver of apprehension that clawed its way up my spine. That settles it, there is no going back. I glanced at the rest of my group and wondered for a moment how we were to survive our mission. I found my self staring to the west of the city, the particular itching, skin crawling sensation I get around demonic things was the strongest from that direction. Glancing back at the rest of my group I set out, following the sensation. I wonder if they’ll notice that I left the group.

Too preoccupied with my thoughts to accurately judge the feelings I was following I rounded the sheered face of a large hill and found myself face to face with a small group. My nerves shrieked and jangled at the edge of my perception and I wished for a moment that I could turn it off. I jerked my body back into cover before I fully thought about moving. I discovered my falchion in hand. It took me a moment to go from panic to calm; I ignored the dark voice in the back of my head that sang at the thought of bloodshed.

For a heartbeat I stilled, holding my breath and listening over the sound of my heart for the group. From the sound I gauged that they were moving for the opposite side. I guess if your body is already dead you don’t really care about stealth that much. Releasing the breath slowly, I reached inwardly for the vampiric side of me that hovered just beneath the civilized surface of my mind. It came to me eagerly, altering my body as it always did yet puzzlingly it left me fully aware of myself; stopping short of taking over my mind as it normally did. Slitting my eyes against the bright light of day, I slowly edged over and glanced around the edge.

I was startled to see a human looking zombie standing there. I was ashamed of the startled noise that came from me. My blade just barely caught the edge of the zombie’s sword, blocking what most likely would have killed me. Baring my teeth at the zombie I slashed out with my other hand and took its eyes. With the pressure off my falchion I was free to kick at the hand wielding the blade. The other creatures of the group that I thought had gone ahead reappeared. Just great, walk right into an obvious trap. I think my time among the Moontae must have damaged my brain. Now would be a great time for some help. Backing away, I stared at the huge eye in the center of a zombie that always stayed at the back of the group. What in the nine levels has Xem’zund done to that creature?

[Iriah Caitrak]

He knew little to nothing. It was a sad realization to make but the cat creature named Leon did not know a whole lot about their situation either. He did however know the lay of the land, which was a lot more than she did. Raiaera was foreign to her. The last time she had been here had been for a very short amount of time and she’d seen little else than the port. That knowledge was surely not going to help them now. Could any of the knowledge and skills she had help them now?

As Leon talked, Elena walked away. It caught Ira’s eye as she thought it silly of the woman to simply wander from the group in the midst of discussing a possible course of action. She half listened to the cat-boy as her eyes followed the great Queen Elena until she slipped from the Calerian’s view. Something within the pit of her stomach rebelled at that moment too, and Ira, trusting her instincts turned away from Leon and Ki and moved towards Elena. The last thing this group of misfits needed was for one of them to get killed this early on, which Ira could see happening very easily if they continued to act like this. Were these people really the ones Gereint wanted her to team up with and fight alongside?

The sound of metal clashing against metal sang out through the air. A reverberating note that only meant one thing in the mind of the Calerian warrior. A battle. Every sense came to life, straining to detect the slightest of things as the corruption within her screamed for release. It wanted to fight. And she was tempted to give into it. But Ira was better than that at giving in to temptation.

The sheered face of a small hill loomed before her. The round features it possessed one side cutting off and turning into a sharp angle that the sounds were clearly coming from. She quickened her steps and rounded the corner only to nearly run straight into Elena. The small woman was holding her own against a group of what Ira knew well enough to be zombies. As Malagen taught her she assessed the situation within a second or two, her eyes surveying the area and everything around it and her mind taking it all in as fast as she could. There were five in total, four of which she beginning to surround Elena—and Ira now as well—plus one in the back that seemed less interested in fighting and more interested in watching. The large eye embedded in the centre of his chest didn’t help much either. A large, unblinking eye. It reminded her too much of the eyes of the dead as they stared at you, accusing you, pleading, crying, begging. It didn’t matter. She hated their eyes.

She reacted the way she was trained and honed to react. Where before her hands had been empty there now appeared her two Half Swallows as if they had always been there. Their long handles and the slightly curved blade at the end made them slightly unbalanced, but it gave her a greater reach than most swords. And they were her most experienced weapons.

As one of the zombies moved towards Elena’s exposed side, she interjected. Not surprising, the zombie didn’t appear to appreciate that. His long, curved blade and the rust and blood that covered it went singing through the air towards Elena’s left shoulder. Ira lashed out, the Half Swallow named Uriahd cut through the air and clashed against the blade of the zombie, sending it off course and harmlessly slicing through nothing but the wind. Before the zombie could recover she moved in quickly with her other nameless Half Swallow, slicing open it’s gut and watching as the filthy and rotting innards fell to the grass below. The smell was revolting. It was almost enough to make her retch, but she fought it back.

Ira recovered from the assault on her senses quickly. She needed to. The large gash had barely slowed down the zombie, reminding her once again that these were not living creatures and she should feel no guilt in putting them out of their misery.

The blade was already on the move towards her body. Coming in from a low slash towards her un-armoured stomach. She parried, she body stepping off to the side and the blade passing her by. With a quick motion, she arched her half swallow towards the creatures arm, severing it just above the elbow and sending it tumbling to the ground, still clutching the sword. At that time, one of the other zombies decided it would be a good idea to attack her from her back.

[Artifex Felicis]

A pair of darker eyes watched the zombies begins their strike, a pit of revulsion growing in his stomach at the lumbering beasts. Daxunyrr was one of the few beings that surved under the Necromancer with some degree over his mind. Even considering some of the changes his body had gone through surving his Master, old habits die hard and his subordinates were far from likable. In his true life, as he whimsically referred to it, a nigh xenophobic loathing for all undead permeated throughout his entire body. That changed when he joined the Necromancer's ranks however, even though it was under orders.

Sure and silent steps moved slowly, tracking the small battle with a grin. His small sacrifice was more then worth what it would give his homeland, especially since they had duped the Necromancer with their own magics. His orders were heard within his mind, but he had enough control to think on his own, changing the orders slightly when needed and sending his reports when he got the chance through his own small network. Even though Eluriand would fall, and Raiaera soon after, his homeland needed to be ready for when dead eyes set their sights across the mountains.

He nocked an arrow, still marvelling at his new body months after the Master had altered it. The drawstring, before Daxunyrr had become a double agent, was nigh impossible for him to pull. Its arrows, when fired, could fly for what seemed like eons. Before a dead necrosis and enhancement used to need both hands, with the archer's feet holding the bow up like some sort of small siege weapon. Now its draw felt like nothing to the hunter, and the arrows still destroyed all that was in their way. Daxunyrr had yet to find a being who could survive a single strike from one such arrow.

He sighted down the line of his arrow, the strange woman with the whirling blades in sight. He paused though, taking several steps as he moved to avoid the sentry being. The sentries scared the officer far more then any of the other undead. A system of beings created entirely to be the eyes of the Necromacer, recording the sight of their grotesque eye and relaying it instantaneously to the Necromancer. Everything that they saw, his knew, and that intelligence was used to its full advantage. Killing that being would result in a fate far worse the death, and Daxunyrr wouldn't jeprodize the Necromancer learning of the information he had written down. Destroying a soul did not seem far outside of Xem’zund enormous power.

The shot never went off as something slammed into the former drow's side, slashing and nearly reaching the spine with whirling claws. The long bow fired, catching Daxunyrr and cutting his arm. His free hand struggled to pull his knife, barely away that this strange attacker had removed most of his insides reaping and tearing. An eye blink later and he lost all motion in his thrashing legs, the flashing blades of the striker severed the spinal cord. An elbow broke his lower jaw a second later, though the undead felt nothing. His blade struck, ringing off as if it hit metal, and the last image that the great hunter Daxunyrr saw was Leon's grinning face before his claws stabbed into his head and ended the pseudo-life of an undead.

((Gonna need to talk to next poster soon, so yep. Toss an IM my way soon.))

[Moonlit Raven]

A flash of relief shot through me when my back side was saved by the timely arrival of the others. I bared my teeth in a feral smile at the blind creature that clumsily waved its hands though the air, seeking its sword or me. The putrid liquid that slid down the gray skin smelled of old death and rotting flesh. More than enough too normally turn my stomach. Grabbing on to one of those flailing arms I jerked the zombie off balance, onto the clean edge of my blade.

The sensation of my falchion cutting through flesh and jumping on contact with hard bone and cartilage was the same sweet sensation. Hopping aside, I let my momentum carry me in a circle, for an instance my gaze stuck on the grotesque creature bearing an eye in its torso. Ignoring the viscous black fluids that stained the ground near my feet from the beheaded zombie I stared at the distorted creation.

"Your master will fail and fall." I hissed as I leapt at the creature, burying my sword in the eye, hearing it pop with a dull sound. Yanking, I pulled my sword out, braking the ribs and ripping the side of the zombie's body. A hand grazed my cheek hard enough to leave the skin numb for a moment. Cursing under my breath I stepped into the creature's space, too close for its weapon to strike me with the edge. The ease of toppling it surprised me in a vague way, I had honestly expected more of a fight. These are dead people, it's not like they still have all of their marbles.

Stomping on the sword arm, I hacked at the other offending arm, severing it. Sparing a moment I glanced at the severed arm, half expecting it to move of its accord or rather as Xem 'zund willed. Looking back down at the struggling zombie, I pushed my sword though its soft, rotting body experimentally; shoving my blade deep into the heart.

Now that the excitement had pretty much died down, my companions taking care of the other abominations I could feel my emotions returning in some small way. The first thing was horror at the situation I found myself in at the desecration and slavery of the dead. You're supposed to rest after you die. I wonder if the souls that once inhabited these bodies still reside in them." Kicking the arm I stood on, braking the arm severely enough that the creature was unable to raise the weapon it gripped I began to prod it with my falchion.

After I was sure I had ruptured every internal organ and the creature still moved. Turning, I looked back at the one that I had beheaded, making sure it still lay on the now soiled ground. Frowning, I hacked through the waist, severing the spine. I was gratified to see the legs stop moving and nodding slightly I beheaded it. We need to find a creature capable of intelligent speech. Thought how to acquire information will be a problem, the dead don't feel pain.

Glancing at my companions I nodded to Ira indicating that I would be a little ways off. Brow furrowed in thought as I tried to solve this new puzzle I walked far enough away that I could easily clean the foul smelling fluid off of my blade and boots on the grasses.

[Iriah Caitrak]

She never knew about the close call and the arrow that would have ended her life. Her new companion taking care of the undead before the arrow could sing towards her. Instead she continued to fight, her half swallow coming back around to finish the zombie off by removing his head from his shoulders. No great release happened afterwards. No soul that escaped the body and travelled to a world possibly much more forgiving than this, for there were no souls within the body of a zombie. They passed on long before the body could be turned into this rotting heap of fighting flesh and no matter how much they tried to get back into it, they never could.

As his body fell to the ground, the Calerian stood straight, relaxing the tensed muscles in her and looked out towards Elena who was just finishing off one of the strangest creatures she had ever seen. A zombie with an eye in the centre of his chest. Even the Fallen had yet to produce such a being and she was glad of that. What the purpose of it she wasn’t entirely sure, but she could hazard a guess. Eyes were only good for one thing after all. She nodded back towards the woman as she wandered off, inwardly wondering if it was such a good idea to do just that. After all, her wandering away had gotten them into this mess in the first place and needless battles were pointless battles. They needed to conserve their energy not run around potentially getting into serious trouble.

Feeling a tickle on her senses, the Calerian turned to look behind her. The scene she saw was ghastly at best and rather disturbing at it’s worst. The creature known as Leon that she couldn’t quite classify as man or animal had ripped right into one of the zombies, tearing it’s body apart and making a rather big mess of the thing. That wasn’t the worst part though. That was the fact that only a foot or two away from his now destroyed body was the soul that had once inhabited it, pain and anguish written upon darkened skin that she could see the trees through. It was an all to familiar sight for her, but Ira had been rather certain that zombies did not have their souls still trapped within their bodies. Had he not been the revived dead or something else entirely?

Her swirling silver eyes remained on him for a while wondering exactly what she should do. He did not appear to be moving on to the after life and even then she wondered if that would be such a good thing for him. He was most likely destined to go to Abyss, a place many Calerians thought was a never-ending experience of pain and suffering due to all the evils conducted in their life. It was just a theory though as none had ever seen it and those who had were not coming back to tell about it. Eventually, the Drow realized she was not looking through him but at him.

“You can see me?” His voice was a little grating to her ears, gravely almost.

She nodded, “Yes, I can.” Ira was used to talking with the dead and cared little for the stares it evoked from others. It was just a natural thing to her. Whether the others would even notice was another thing entirely.

It brought a small amount of relief to his features, a slight smile that tugged at his lips and made his eyes crinkle at the edges. Looking at him reminded her of Izvilvin only because they were of the same race, for Izvilvin would never be what this man was. A coward fighting for a side that most likely promised him nothing more than power and certainly delivered in the form of a misshapen body.

“There are documents inside the jacket upon my body, you must retrieve them and then flee from this place as fast as you can!”

Sceptical as to the use of documents from a man who had been on the opposing force’s side, Ira did it anyway. There was little to no harm in taking a look. Walking over to where his body had fallen, the Calerian dropped her blades and knelt down in the grass. She ignored the wounds upon him as best she could. Touching as little of the dingy material as possible, she moved it aside and sure enough, in the right jacket pocket were stained pieces of paper written in a language she could not understand for the only thing she could read was Fallien. With no use for them, she turned to Leon, still standing next to the corpse and probably a little confused at this point in time.

“Here, I cannot understand them.” She handed the pieces of parchment over to him, and then she turned back to the spirit of the Drow. “Why bother helping us now after trying to kill us?”

He merely shrugged at first, “I was never completely on the side of the Necromancer. He promised me something I wanted, something that no one else could give me. More power and he delivered.”

She thought so. It always came down to such simple reasoning, simple yet stupid. The power he talked about had changed him and turned him from something he was into something he wasn’t, mutating his body and his soul in the process. Much like the corruption within her wanted to change her in ways she wouldn’t let it. Power needed to be control and carefully harnessed and never abused for it could destroy a person. Especially the power she housed within her own soul.

[Reiko]

My feet had stopped, for a part of me thought 'why?' Why am i following Leon? I mean I considered him a friend and a lover, well ex-lover. We had both moved on and yet I was angry. Why was I angry? It was stupid as I had other lovers too. Maybe it was timing that mad my ire burn.

Still whatever ate at my soul had mad my legs stop the familiar motion of one foot in front of the other. I stood still with my tails twitching for a moment then soon they started to buckle and then I decided to sit down before they gave out. What was wrong with me?

Sure Leon sleeping with some unknown woman the night before such an important mission. It seemed stupid but many of the Corone Bard songs mentioned pleasures of mating with some girl with a soft heart and skin and locks of gold. So why had it ate at me?

Jealousy... That was it. Jealousy!

Tears rolled down my face as I realized the fact that I allowed pettiness to rock my heart and I hated myself for it. How stupid I was! My hand clenched a bit of grass and pulled out by the roots and threw it away. My friends didn't see the spectacle of my childishness and I was glad. No one was there and things were quiet. Know, I wasn't paying attention to the faint sounds in the short distance away. I was a warrior, better than this!

My heart jump started and sent my legs to jump up and I ran. I couldn't let the evil take Elana, Ira and Leon. I ran through the grass and sparce trees, quiet in the still day in hopes the evil will pass them by: The ultimate cowards.

And I was a coward! I had hesitated and Hesitated because I was jealous and selfish: A horrid warrior, mother and friend. I ran through the light forest to be greeted by the smell of death... and life. My friends had won the day.

Without me, pathetic me. And I called my self a samurai.

"I'm sorry." I barely whispered with my tails drooping and my ears folded back with shame. "I'm a coward." I said a bit louder then repeated as a whisper. They must hate me.

[The Scourge]

Flying to the hilltop like a wounded comet, shedding magical streamers and vapors as he fled, Xem'zûnd hurtled to earth, landing with a gentle thud. And he looked downwards on those that had followed, and he smiled. At least one of them he knew; the Necromancer knew the face of every soul that had ever stepped inside the Obsidian Spire, his enchantments made sure of that.

Taking a step down the hill, out of sight of the battle, he waved his hands and cried aloud. "Hello there! Hello! Leon Timyon, I need your help!"

The spell of Aesphestos still held.

* * * * *

"It is quite the enchantment, is it not?"

The one who was once Cantor Zundalon, whose face now seemed for all the world to be that of Abbot Xem, knelt before the brown-garbed magician. The man, long in face and with a shrewd gleam in eyes framed by locks of raven hair, placed his hand on the shoulder of the kneeling one.

"Yes, Zundalon...you have passed the test, you allowed the sword to penetrate your body, and in that moment you found the might of immortality. What did it feel like as Abbot Xem slew the one who had betrayed him?"

Zundalon could scarcely look up into the face of his master, the great Lord Aesphestos who had given him such a gift, but he tried, and said, "Great Lord, I could feel all that the Abbot once was enter me, his bones becoming my bones, his face my face. And when I rose, unwounded, I felt nothing but glory as I beheld his fearful face, his countenance of arrogance marred by the shock of seeing his own soul looking out of my eyes and into his. With hands that looked like his I raised his sword and slew him; I watched through his eyes as he sank to the floor, dead. Great Lord, it felt better than anything, to taste this immortality so sweet."

"Good, good," said the mage in brown. "The enchantment upon you is powerful. From this day forward, you can only die by the power of weaponry; and when you die, you shall take the form of that which kills you, over and over again until eternity. And everyone who kills you shall become part of you; and they will not know it, but their power will flow into you even as you perish. Nurture it, and your enemies will become yours; every death will be a new source of strength. And you will always bear the face of the one who last cut you down."

Aesphestos laughed, a deep laugh that boomed for a second and was then silent. "Now, Cantor Zundalon, take a new name. Your features are those of the Abbot you once served, Xem, and you are the better half of what you once were, Zundalon. So you are now...Xem'zûnd, Lord of the Greatwood, Rightful Ruler of the Durklan Lands and the Throne of N'jal. The Grand Library shall be rebuilt by you, your enemies dispersed, and you shall have vengeance."

And so rose Xem'zûnd, the Durklan. The elves had wrested his mother's scream from her chest, and they would pay dearly for that scream.

* * * * *

All magical vapors had vanished in a heartbeat by the time Leon and the others could turn to watch the man now striding towards the hilltop. He swung back his hair and laughed, and said, "Yes, Leon, legends do still walk! I heard this land was in need of some help, and I owed it some distant debt."

Leon would be able to see the features; the jut of jaw, the sparkling blue eyes, the empty scabbard that hung at his waist; a violin case even hung off his back, completing the look. Portraits of the man still hung from mantels in Raiaera; young elves still listened in rapt attention to the tale of the man who had ascended the tower, the great Obsidian Spire, at the height of Raiaera's need, cut down the Necromancer, and delivered the land from darkness. And with any luck, the enchantment would hold best when the little furball realized how uncannily he looked like...like her.

None would know what evil lurked behind that noble visage until it was too late, for the eyes that now looked upon those gathered there were the eyes of Devon dan Sabriel, the Starslayer.