Into the Woods [CLOSED]

"Oh, one who pours healing into the sea, spare my poor fins."

Melaina had seen people ride horses before. They looked graceful and elegant, sitting astride the beast as mane and tail flowed out behind them, a banner and wave that caught every eye. It was a beautiful thing to witness.

It was a horrible thing to participate in.

"My tail will be crooked forever," she whined.

She sat astride the mare, her arms wrapped around Alina's waist. The foreign dancer had introduced herself again when she told Melaina the mare's name, after she had offered her a chance to ride. Melaina had (foolishly) agreed with the offer, partly because she had never ridden a horse before and wanted to experience it, and partly to get away from the tavern and all of the people and deadly, supposedly man-eating plants.

Alina was giggling in front of her, no doubt at Melaina's whining voice in her ear. That was fine. She wasn't too concerned. The woman, despite knowing a few words here and there in Tradespeak, was lacking enough in knowledge of the language that Melaina was probably doing little more than confusing her. It didn't matter. What mattered was getting to a place where they could set up camp so she could climb down off this monstrosity of a beast.

"How do you ride this thing all the time?"

Alina shook her head. "We ride."

"Ugh." Melaina dropped her forehead against the dancer's back and groaned, eliciting another giggle from the woman. At least she was a source of entertainment, she supposed. This lack of an ability to communicate between them could prove a problem. Then again, on horseback, with them unable to see each other, they were limited to words and the tightening of Melaina's arms around the woman's waist. Once they were back on the ground, face-to-face, body language and facial expressions would tell more.

She wasn't sure why, beyond wanting to escape and ride the horse (foolish, foolish, foolish), she had chosen to stay in the company of the other woman. Melaina had been notoriously solitary since the death of her mother, rather staying near people and certainly not traveling with them. The only time she spent around them was when she was attempting to pinch coin from them, through quick fingers or a quick tongue, whichever worked best at the time. She had, of course, spent some time tracking the thieves back in Scara Brae, but that hadn't panned out well at all.

Someday.

She shook off the morbid thought. She didn't want that here, not now. They were riding north, bordering the edge of the Concordia Forest. Alina had been doubtful about traveling through it and Moonstrider wouldn't have been able to carry them had they been forced to navigate tree branches and root work.

What a pity,, she thought sourly. Maybe we should make a go for the woods, after all.

The sun was beginning its decent and they wouldn't be able to safely ride in the dark. They did need to stop soon, when there was still enough light that they could gather timber by and start a fire. She had no desire to leave the company of a man-eating plant only to be devoured by a wolf, or whatever haunted the lands outlying the towns.

Melaina exhaled and squeezed her arms tighter to catch Alina's attention. She hesitated, wondering how well this would convey, then simply said, "Stop. It's getting dark."

Stop was apparently a word the woman knew, thank the waves. Moonstrider's pace slowed to a walk.

"Stop?" Alina asked, turning her head.

"Sleep," Melaina clarified. "We need a fire." And my bum could use some peace, while we're at it.

Darkness sprawled lazily over the forest’s fringe, snuffing out the waning red embers of sunlight. Long shadows still clung to the bases of trees both broad and thin, and the leaves chattered in a breeze that nipped at exposed skin with chilly teeth.

Alina Espad’rina slid lithely out of the saddle, with the comfort and ease of one who had been riding since infancy. She pulled down her short leather skirt to conceal her linen undergarments, and straightened her tanned corset. The sun-kissed Fallieni woman reached up with both hands to help down her new friend Melaina.

The tiny Coronian woman stumbled and waddled about as her legs grew used to walking again. Giggles rose unbidden from Alina’s belly at her companion’s antics. Has she never ridden a horse before? How do these islanders get from one place to the next? Melaina looked back at her crossly, and Alina clapped both hands over mouth.

“Bad Alina,” she said, uncertain of how else to apologize. Her Tradespeak vocabulary was about as varied as the landscape in Fallien. “Fire?” She said, pointing at Melaina, and then, “sleep,” pointing at herself. She set about rooting through her saddlebags and then realized the little girl was staring at her.

“Horse sleep,” she corrected herself, pulling a stiff brush and heavy blanket out of the bag. Melaina’s mouth formed an O and she nodded. The girl said something incomprehensible in Tradespeak and then tottered off, hopefully to find firewood.

Sun-darkened hands worked diligently as Alina removed the saddle and brushed down Moonstrider’s sand-colored coat. Once the mare was free of sweat, Alina draped the thick blanket across her broad back. There was no need to stake Moonstrider’s reins; the well trained steed from Suravani’s Oasis would graze nearby and sleep as she saw fit.

Melaina returned bearing an armload of twigs and dead logs. They constructed a fire pit from some stones they pried out of the ground and Alina set to striking steel against flint while Melaina blew on the nest of tinder. They worked well together despite an absence of words, and before long a fire crackled merrily between them.

Darkness had rolled over the last of the sun’s luminance, but the coals in their fire only grew, and the dancing flames illuminated a small chunk of the inky night. The moon peeked shyly from behind a bank of gray clouds, adding some silver radiance to the light.

Suravani. She watches me even here, so far from my home. Thinking of her goddess reminded Alina to consider her companion’s needs. Even in her lightweight clothing, the chilly breeze did not bother the dancer. Fallieni nights grew much colder than this Coronian spring. She had not eaten since that morning, but her stomach did not protest; she was habituated to long rides without sustenance.

Rising, Alina scampered out of the fire’s halo and found Moonstrider grazing nearby. She dug in the saddlebags once more and found a waterskin, some salted beef wrapped in cloth, and another thick woolen blanket. She walked back to the crackling fire, enjoying the smell of woodsmoke. Islanders did not understand the convenience of having so much wood close to hand all the time.

Alina sat next to Melaina, close enough that her sun-darkened thigh brushed the girl’s short leg. They had grown close in the short time since they’d met in a tavern, where Melaina had been singing for silvers. The girl had an angelic voice.

“We share,” Alina said. She wrapped the blanket around them both and offered her friend food and drink. The warmth of the fire seeped into her like a gentle massage. She looked at her diminutive friend. “You sing?”

Arther looked through the bars of his large cage. He had been resting in his nest in the Valley of Ancients. Suddenly a strange object was thrown over him and woke him up. He struggled but couldn’t get out. As he looked up, Arther saw creatures he had never seen before. What he did know was that they had attacked him.

So he fought back. Arther put the object in his mandibles and chomped right through it. He did it again and again when suddenly a sharp pain when through his back as his chitin hide was cut by an iron blade. Arther threw his body back as the creature who cut him cried out as Arther’s blood touched the creature's skin. Arther continued to fight, however, he finally was overwhelmed and taken down.

That was two months ago. Arther had been stuck in his cage since. However, he has learned how to understand these “humans”. It seems his blood permanently burned the man who had cut him. And apparently, it had caused this man to be laughed at and ridiculed. A hollow victory, but better than nothing. Now all he could do was wait and see what became of him. He really hoped that something would happen so he could go free. Oh and send out a telepathic distress call once in a while. Arther looked up at the sky and saw it was sunset.

'Time to send out another call,’ Arther thought.

With that in mind, Arther gathered his mental ability and gave it the ‘basic’ word. “Help!” Then released the mental wave that would travel 3 miles before becoming undetectable.

The bandit that guarded him held his head then looked back at the giant. “Would you please stop doing that!?” yelled the man to the seven foot monster. “ It’s annoying and no one is going to come to get you.” Then the man turned back around.

Arther laid down and thought, “We’ll see.” Arther then went into a sleep cycle.

During the daylight, forests seemed like welcoming, friendly places. In the dark of the night however, they transformed into a different beast entirely. Fireflies flickered in and out of sight, ethereal in nature. They were in the only real source of light where the moonlight couldn’t pierce the branches above. All of Varin’s senses were on high alert. There was always this ungodly feeling lurking in the dappled shadows, the eerie idea that something voracious could be on the lurk and one would never notice until it was too late.

This fear was a beast that Varin was willing to face, however. The alternative was far worse.

“This is a terrible map,” he muttered, squinting at it in the dark. The little brown bird on his shoulder, Arie, hopped down onto his wrist and tugged on the tattered edge of the paper he clutched. She cheeped at him tiredly. The Drakari gave her an exasperated growl in reply and shoved it into the thick folds of his robes. “It is not my fault that it does not cover Concordia! Look, would you rather be facing that bounty hunter once more, or would you rather be wandering these woods for a few days? We should find our way out eventually. For now, perhaps we should just find some relatively safe perch to sleep. Who knows what might-”

Help!

A lone voice cut over the chirping crickets. It was a keen, tentative cry, one that struck the soul rather than the ear. Varin stopped, listening to the night. “Arie,” he said quietly. “Did you hear that?” The bird bobbed her head.

Both mulled over the intrusion. It didn’t sound again. A shudder shook Varin, and he stroked the head of his feathered pet. “Perhaps it was a false call,” he said dryly, “uttered by some predator meaning to lure us in with pity, only to feast on our flesh when we swoop in to provide aid. I doubt that it would be worth looking into.”

Arie stamped her foot and scampered all the way up his shoulder, squeaking disagreeably all the way.

Varin groaned and gave her a hard look. “Oh, really? Hush your bleeding heart. We are in unfamiliar territory! It is a very real possibility! Actually, it would be best if we forgot about it entirely and headed in the exact opposite direction.”

The sparrow did not agree. She took a beakful of Varin’s braid and tugged it in the direction the call seemed to have come from. Her master shooed her away with a wince, snorting as she climbed atop his head. “Alright, fine! If it was someone in genuine need of aid, I suppose we should see if we can help. If not, I blame you for whatever befalls us.” Arie settled down and gave him a self-satisfied tweet. Dragging his clawed feet, Varin set off. “It had better be someone who actually knows the way out of these forsaken woodlands.”

Chasing after the call was… difficult, to say the least. With nothing more than the vague idea of where the call came from, Varin careened over concealed roots and smacked into low-hanging branches. It made him wish he had been gifted with night vision or some such power. He waved off a few useless fireflies that hung in his way, with Arie snapping up one for a quick snack. One of boggling bugs seemed off; it was orange, and sat at a stationary point a ways away. Peering at it from behind the relative safety of an oak, Varin realized that it was not actually an insect.

In fact, it was nothing more than a weak campfire in the distance. The few figures crouched conversing by it didn’t seem particularly sinister, but one never knew. Keeping back a bit, Varin called out to them in a halting voice.

“Excuse me, but... did you cry for help?”

If one were to blink, the forest would have appeared exactly the same as it had before the eye could shut and open. So when the owl hooted peacefully into the night, eyes scouring the ground for a tasty morsel, it was not expecting anything untoward to happen. Even as a mouse began to scurry from one tree to the next the Owl took flight, silently cresting through the air to take the mouse unaware.

The owl then blinked, and smacked into the side of a tower.

Sage didn’t hear the soft thump of the animal landing in a heap on the ground, he learned out from the doorway weary of some hidden danger lurking in the shadows. It looked like Corone, not any part he was familiar with mind you, but it was a far cry from the wastelands of Raiaera or the blistering warm deserts of Fallien.
He had only just been acquainted with the idea of a teleporting tower on several hours before. And the wizard was more than delighted to keep on reminded him about it too.

Frowning, the boy stepped away from the door to get a better look around the small clearing the tower had appeared in to see if he could figure out where he was now. In a forest, that much was obvious. But where that forest was, he had not a clue. His guess was Corone, but it also may have been somewhere deep in the outlands.

“This is not Crossroads” he said looking back over his shoulder at the Elderly Wizard who had agreed to mentor him. Clean shaven with a neat crop of hair was not what Sage had expected of an old and powerful Wizard, though powerful may have been a stretch, the man certainly knew his profession.

“It isn’t?” he said knowingly “Well, it shouldn’t be far from here, we are on Corone”

“I think” he paused for thought, then shrugged and entered the tower before the effeminate looking boy could call him out on it. Sage realised only too late what the wizard was about to do and managed to dash half way back towards the tower. Only to fall right through where the door had been only seconds ago and stumbled into the large open clearing.

“I … wait!” the boy cried loudly. Only to realise a second later that the man had left him here.

“… You’re kidding?” Sage allowed gravity to pull him to the ground where he lay sprawled on his back in the middle of a dark and foreboding forest. Through the tree line, he could see the distant stars twinkle down at him and the silver hue of the moon illuminating the clouds from above. It would have been a beautiful sight to just stop and behold, except that it was a dark and foreboding forest, He couldn’t forget that fact.

Or the fact that this may not even be Corone.

He didn’t even have any camping supplies on him.

“You’re kidding, right?” His palms met his forehead with a meaty slap and a large groan was released from his throat. And he thought to remind himself that he was in a dark and foreboding forest, seriously, how could he keep forgetting that.

The night brought with it a chill on Melaina's flesh. Not because it was cold, for the fire was quite warm and comfortable, but because night was always a dangerous time, especially when one was not within the confines of a city or town, where constant activity warned away predators.

She and her companion had lost themselves in a silent vigil of the sky. The moon was bright, turning the sky behind it into a blanket of darkness, hiding the stars by the strength of its own brilliance. She imagined that full glow shining through the lapping waves of her sea's watery ceiling. She used to lay on the sands of the ocean floor, her tail touching the blankets of kelp so she would not be lying to her mother when she said she'd stayed in bed all night while she was gone. But while her fins rested on her bed, her head and torso lay outside the cave, sand scratching the back of her hands as she folded them beneath her head, staring up at the stars. The water didn't seem so clear during the day as it was at night, the shallower area of their tribe's home giving her a beautiful view of the stars dancing to the rippling whims of the sea's current. The moon would shimmer and shine, quivering like a silverfish' fins in flight, but never waver until it settled down to bed to allow daybreak to commence. There were nights, all alone in their den, when Melaina had stayed up until dawn turned the ocean gold, the moon her constant companion through long nights of worries and fears.

It looked different without the ocean playing a curtain between them, but the moon was still her for her, a faithful companion. A little bit of home, it seemed, even here on dry land. That made the ache in her heart burn a little less, so when Alina returned from Moonstrider's side and offered food in exchange for a song, Melaina felt well enough to oblige her with one that her mother had taught her as a child.

"Once there was a little boy who broke a cardinal rule;
He stayed up passed his bedtime like a sorry little fool.
He thought to trick his parents into thinking him asleep,
So he stuffed pillows in his blankets and out the door he sneaked.

He climbed across the hilltops, laughing gleeful in the night.
He thought himself a genius 'til he had a terrible fright.
The sun sank low on the horizon and the sky turned pitch and black,
And though the little boy tried he could not find his way back.

He tumbled down the hillside, scraping knees on sticks and stones,
And he feared falling off the side and breaking all his bones.
The little boy sat still and silent, though tears streamed down his cheeks,
For he's sure he'd be lost out here for weeks and weeks and weeks.

But as he cried for his mother, lost, scared, and alone,
The world turned beneath him and the night's sun groaned.
Woken from her nap on the other side of the world,
The moon stretched above the horizon and rose up, arms unfurled.

"Why do you cry, little night-seeker?" the moon wondered of the boy,
"You are exploring my kingdom and that should bring you joy.
For I am the Queen and the Goddess of the Night,
And I will chase away all monsters with my blue-silver light."

The boy stared up at the moon, this guardian of the sky,
And wondered how he could have slept each night as she passed him by,
For she was beautiful, shining bright, dimming all the stars,
And he wished that he could kiss her cheek, though she was much too far.

"I am a little wanderer," he told her, slightly shy,
"But I have lost my way and I admit it made me cry,
For the night was a scary place after the sun left me alone,
But with you here the night is bright and safe and feels like home."

Flattered, the moon smiled at him, but she knew more than he,
For she was ancient and forever and he might have reached your knee,
But the moon was a guardian of all creatures of the night
And he was wandering her kingdom so she couldn't ignore his plight.

"My light shines for only so long, little wanderer in the dark,
And it is not so bright that it could outshine a campfire's spark,
But you are a sweet boy and you should know the joy it is to roam,
So wipe your tears from your face and let me lead you home."

The little boy wiped his face dry and hiked up his sleeping shorts
And the two set off across the hillside like long-time cohorts.
The moon lit the way as the boy trekked across the land,
Showing him grass and mountainside, sea and surf and sand.

He walked and she hovered, guiding his journey west,
And his yawning grew more frequent as did his need to rest.
The moon could hear the sun crying, calling for the morn,
But she would not leave her little wanderer until home she'd had him borne.

It was when his mother picked him up and clutched him to her chest
That the moon bade him a farewell and settled down to rest.
The night had been a long one, the longest of the year,
And the sun was angry for her stealing hours that were so dear.

But the moon is a guardian of the night and all its creatures.
It dared not leave one in need of her kind and glowing features.
So this is the story of a Moon who is ageless
Who turned her generosity into the first winter Solstice."

Melaina ended the song staring up at the moon, her guiding light in the dark, a small smile on her face. Her mother had sung that song to her as a child, on nights when sleep did not come easily and the two were together. Melaina would lay her head on her mother's chest, occasionally pressing a hand to the growing belly where her half-sibling grew, and listen as her mother sang, the murmur of her voice and the vibration against Melaina's ear a cocoon of safety against frightening dreams.

The moon had become her guardian, too. And though she knew that the moon did not create the longest night of the year to protect a little boy from the dark, the lullaby had always been a balm for her as a child.

She wished adulthood were so easily frightened away with a lullaby, but that was not how life worked.

"HELP!!" The cry came from nowhere and everywhere, echoing in her mind with a ring of desperation that choked peaceful memories from her grasp. She sat up straight with a gasp.

She turned to Alina, noting the woman's frantic face. "Hear?" she asked. "Help?"

"I heard." Melaina noted Moonstrider's antsy movements to her left and wondered if the horse had also heard the cry. "It's possible it's a predatory seeking a good meal," she admitted, though she had never heard of a predator with a cry that was telepathic rather than auditory. Even her own siren song needed to be uttered aloud. She was just about to suggest they remain where they were, safe by a fire that would keep predators away, when someone burst through the trees into their clearing.

“Excuse me, but... did you cry for help?”

Melaina moved slowly. He didn't look like a threat, but that didn't mean anything, and though his voice didn't sound like the telepathic cry had, she couldn't ignore the possibility that he might have been the one to call out, attempting to lure them away from safety. Who wanders around in the dark forest at night? Her hand slid behind her back, grasping the hilt of one of her daggers, out of the boy's line of sight.

"I didn't hear anything," she lied. She eyed him up and down, her eyes narrowed to try and see him where he stood in the dark with the bright light of their fire blinding her. Clever trick. "You're taking a fair chance wandering the woods at night. Not afraid of getting eaten?" Might be the one doing the eating.

If that was the case, he'd picked a poor target. Sirens didn't just drown sailors for fun. They ate their prey.

Although she did not understand the words, Melaina’s song made Alina think of the Fallieni glassfields she called home. She was one of the Mi’Sheteri, the most secretive of the desert nation’s tribes. As the little woman sang Alina gazed into the fire, watching memories dance among the flames. She could see herself, stealing about the blight at night gathering glass. She could see her friends and smell their bodies as they slept close together to ward off night’s chill. She could hear the sound of sand sliding down the dunes with each whisper of wind.

And then the cry for help came, not in any language, but in feeling, and shortly thereafter the strange lizard-kin poked its snout out of the woods. Alina had grown habituated to meeting all different manner of creatures since coming to Corone, and the lizard-kin was rather small and cute, but still its appearance straightened her spine. She could sense Melaina’s discomfort; a hard edge had entered the singer’s tone as she spoke to the stranger.

Alina stood and moved away from her friend, gaining a different angle on the invader. She had a small knife on her belt, but did not reach for it. Her hips swayed as she walked, like a rattlesnake shaking its tail, and the walk became a dance. She slid further away from the fire, forcing the lizard-kin to divide its attention. She danced softly and subtly, to a music only she could hear, and power began to build in her body. She felt comfortable in the dance, almost invulnerable.

If this beast is here to harm us, let it try.

As her eyes adjusted away from the fire’s brilliance, Alina could see more of the intruder’s body. At first glance its wings and cloak had made it seem muscular despite its short stature. As she looked closer, however, the dancer noticed the frailness of its form, and the innocence of its glowing orange eyes. Its clawed hands clutched no weapons. It did not seem dangerous at all.

Even so, Alina continued her dance, like a spider building its web. Things were often not what they seemed, and she had witnessed great magic already since coming to Corone. The local shamans did not see fit to announce themselves with appropriate tattoos and garb, and their arcane arts required much less ingredient-mixing and chanting than the Fallieni brand she had witnessed at home. In truth, it seemed anyone on the island nation could be a powerful wizard in disguise.

And a dance could be a lure for something far more dangerous.

The forest was quiet with new tension as the two parties sized each other up. As it turned out, the two travelers that had been hunched by the fire moments before were a pair of women. Though most humans looked fairly alike to Varin, he could tell by the flickering firelight that first of the two didn’t hail from Corone. Her features were reminiscent of the desert folk he saw in his stolen books when he was young. The second woman didn’t seem entirely human. Her skin seemed a little too glossy, for one, and her eyes had the look of a predator. Varin held his breath and looked away from her bright golden gaze. For a moment, he was afraid that they had sent out the call, and that it had been a sort of lure after all.

Suspicion made the shiny, predator woman’s words cutting and glassy. Her voice was powerful, and it made him uneasy. Judging from her stance, she was ready to take some sort of defensive action against him. "I didn't hear anything," she told the Drakari plainly, practically undressing him with her eyes. He couldn’t help but shrink back into the shadows at her gaze. "You're taking a fair chance wandering the woods at night. Not afraid of getting eaten?"

As if she were some sort of guard dog, Arie hopped in front of him at the first sign of aggression, cheeping fiercely at the woman when her voice turned cold. She stared at the little bird in either startled mistrust or muted amusement -- Varin had a bit of trouble deciphering human expressions.

“Arie, no. That is a bad fight to pick. Come back here,” he commanded. “Away from the strangers.” As the little sparrow scampered back to her master, Varin gave the shiny woman a sharp look. “There are things I fear more than the belly of a beast,” he replied, delicate fangs bared. His wings fluttered, not unlike a cat raising it’s hackles to appear more fearsome. “I might ask you what it is that you are doing here. Either you are out here because you are as desperate as I, or you are just as cocksure as you assumed I to be.”

During this conversation, the foreign woman had begun a sultry swaying that build up into a dance in the dark. For a moment, he had dismissed her as crazy, but she had a lot of intent to what she was doing. In fact, the fluid movements seemed almost reflexive, defensive. They were both captivating and obnoxiously distracting to him. Varin’s gaze darted warily between her and the shiny one. They were just acting so… odd.

Realization struck him very suddenly upside the head. Well, of course they were as guarded as they -- they were likely making the same kneejerk conclusion he had come to when he had first heard the cry! Varin slowly held up his empty hands, hoping not to frighten them further. “In any case, I apologize for interrupting you. I am unarmed,” except for my fists, “so request that you please not unleash any sort of wrath upon myself. Are you certain you did not hear anything?”

It would be just his luck for it to have all been in his head all along. Perhaps wandering alone was driving him mad after all.

Between scouting the woods in the dead of the night, or watching over that damn millipede. Rodrick knew which of the two he certainly preferred. Stumbling through the thicket, he knew he was certainly not the lightest on his feet, especially when it was so dark he could hardly make out the hairs on the back of his hand.

Just thinking of how that beast would scream out for help within the privacy of his own mind was more than enough to warrant him putting a distance between him and it. But then it had to go and start learning the language too.

Either picking it up from inside his own head or though listening to them talk.

Thoroughly freaked out and disturbed by the oversized roach. He had all but assured himself that he would be volunteering to go and scout out the woods as often as possible. “The beasts here are not nearly as bad as that … Thing!” he spat, his skin crawling with the thought of the way it would scurry across the ground.

“Blech”

“You’re such a coward” his scouting partner said mockingly. Brom chuckled, taking care to match his footsteps with his. “Are you afraid that the itty bitty insect is going to eat your brains?”

Rodrick bit his bottom lip to stop himself from taking a swing at the smug bastard. Brom was one of their best trackers, but he was utterly insufferable to the point he was almost debating if he should have offered to watch over their prize catch.

“Then again, with you, it would probably starve”

Rodrick spun around with a fist, striking Brom awkwardly on his shoulder rather than his face as he closed in on his like a wraith. A gloved hand pressed against his mouth as he was pressed up against a tree. He struggled for a brief moment until Brom silenced him with a hiss. “Shut up”

“What?”

Brom did not move an inch. His eyes were glued to something in the darkness. Rodrick did not hear anything, nor could he see a thing over his companions shoulder. But something had honestly gotten under his skin, but what, the last time he had seen Brom this jumpy was in that damn valley. But there had been nothing natural about that place.

He knew that Brom had a dislike for anything supernatural, ghosts, spirits, demons and other otherworldly beings did not settle well with him. But give him a beast that dwelled into the furthest reaches of the outlands, and he was as comfortable as a cat in a lap.

There in the distance, something flickered through the tree line.

Brom tensed, tightening his grip over him. Sufficiently annoyed and disturbed, Rodrick pulled the vicelike grip Brom had on him away. “What is it?”

He received no answer as he focused on the thing in the distance. Ethereal light spilled forth as it darted through the tree’s disturbing wildlife and causing the critters of the night to howl their displeasure. Brom turned what as a ghost as the strange light cast its light on him, and Rodrick could see the only conclusion the man could come too given the strange situation. A sick realisation came over him as the horrified howls the creatures made “You don’t think that damn beast called a…”

“Ghost” Brom Squeaked in horror. And then was off him like a flash as tore through the brush away from their camp. Rodrick, on his last nerve and thinking that the beast had called a poltergeist for help followed soon after.

The two were sufficiently done, and decided to cut their losses before whatever spirit that beast had called could get them.

Silence returned to the forest as the ethereal light dimmed a few notches, hovering in place. If the two had stayed their nerve for just a moment longer, they would have seen a young boy emerge from the thicket and reach up to his light spell. Maybe sending a ball of magic light careening through a dark forest was not the wisest of ideas. Sage ruefully flushed at the startled wildlife. Even as they made their displeasure known to him he dimmed the light of his spell another notch. The good news however, was that by disturbing what would have been a flock of resting birds, he had been awarded a brief glimpse at what they were.

“I think I can safely say I am back in Corone” he whispered with some modicum of confidence. Some of the breeds of birds he had disturbed were local to the island. So there was some small measure of satisfaction in that. But that did not mean he would not be tempted to swing for Victor the next time he saw him either.

What was he thinking, ditching his new apprentice/part-time student in the middle of the woods?

It made sense, Melaina thought, for a creature with wings to have a familiar with wings, but such a tiny little bird? Granted, its attitude was twenty times its little size, big enough to fit its partner, but not... visually frightening. More like endearing.

Despite her amusement, Melaina was careful not to fall prey to its easing. She kept herself tensed, ready to fight, watching the boy careful. The shuffling of his wings made her shift in uncertainty, but like the shuffling of Moonstrider's legs, she let it slide by her. She was careful not to look at Alina. Even knowing the girl was dancing made her want to turn her head, but there was a benefit to being a siren she had never considered before. She was aware, constantly, of the ability with her own lips to catch an eye, twist a thought, turn the tide. But that didn't make her immune, so she was careful to keep her eyes averted.

The boy lifted his hands slowly, displaying empty palms. Melaina tensed. For some people, that was a sign of surrender, but for those who could use magic, it was preparatory to an attack. She'd seen sirens raise their hands to send off an attack that boiled the sea water and burned with light, but the boy didn't make any move to attack.

“In any case, I apologize for interrupting you. I am unarmed, so request that you please not unleash any sort of wrath upon myself. Are you certain you did not hear anything?”

Melaina hesitated a moment, waiting, but when the boy still didn't attack, she relaxed minutely. The boy spoke strangely, rather formerly, and she had seen very few Drakari since she left the sea behind her. This was the closest she had ever been and the first time she had ever spoken to one. Perhaps it was her innate curiosity, but Melaina waved a hand at the fire before her and Alina in invitation.

"I may have heard something, but it may also have been a predator, which is perhaps the same thought that you have had?" She lowered herself slowly to the ground. "We are leaving behind a less-than-ideal tavern, rather poor clientele. They preferred eating the guests to what they might find on the menu. Much the same as this forest, I suspect." She studied the darkness that lurked beyond the reach of their fire, before turning back to the boy. "What are you running from that you'd risk the forest at night?" She allowed herself a the smallest of smiles. "And with such a valiant protector as your little bird."

Not understanding the conversation at all, Alina watched her friend’s body language. When it became clear that the singer was comfortable with the lizard-kin’s presence, the dancer ceased her mesmerizing movement. She’d nearly charged enough energy to land a knockout blow, and had been prepared to use it on the little fellow. As they all gathered round the fire, Alina felt like a giant. Most Coronians were considerably larger than her, but among present company she stood the tallest by a considerable amount.

The Fallieni woman wondered what was going on. Had the lizard-kin or his bird friend emitted the telepathic cry? Likely not. If they could have communicated with her in a way she understood, surely they would have done so. She hoped that they did not intend to go chasing after whoever had cried help. By night, the woods presented a considerable danger for Moonstrider’s legs. Alina did not wish to be stuck in the middle of nowhere with an injured steed.

Beyond the fire’s reach, Moonstrider munched on the long grass that grew plentifully. The mare was a great comfort to the dancer in this strange, foreign land.

“Alina,” the Fallieni woman said, pressing a hand to her chest. “Melaina,” she added, touching her traveling companion’s arm. “You?”

Grateful that he was unscathed, warm, and invited to a moment’s rest, Varin hunched over at the fire’s edge and listened to the other two intently. It was nice to warm his feet.

His new… acquaintances were odd company, to be sure. Lovely in guise, but strange. Trust was not yet a word he would use, but he was fairly confident enough that they were not of the kind to attack without reason, and that set him more at ease. The foreign woman -- Alina -- was not particularly gifted with the traveler’s tongue of tradespeak. He assumed that she must not have had the same study of it that he did. Perhaps the thing with the dancing earlier was some attempt to communicate? It could be, for all he knew.

“Varin,” he stated plainly, pointing to himself. The brown bird leaned into his neck to pointedly remind him of her presence. “Arie,” he gestured to her with a snort. “Nuisance, but friend. Good pet.” She accepted this designation with a cheerful puff of her chest, the same way she had puffed when dubbed a “valiant protector” by Melaina. “That tavern does not sound to be a hospitable establishment to dine at. It is a shock that such a place would stay in business for very long. Then again, I am not very well acquainted with the workings of this nation, nor its culture. We ourselves fled away from people who…”

He pondered a moment, poking at the edge of the campfire with his cold toes. How to put this lightly without incurring a waterfall of prodding inquiry?

“...consider me an object that needs returning to its owner. I do not agree.”

Alina spoke up, and it was thankfully a bit off topic. “Fire,” she said softly, staring into the distance.

“Yes, yes,” Varin said agreeably, taking on the same tone he did when speaking to Arie. “I know that we are at a fire. It is cozy indeed.”

“No,” the woman said insistently, not sounding terribly pleased by his dismissal. She motioned into the trees. Varin flustered and glanced up in the direction she had waved. “Fire there.” Sure enough, there was a light bobbing amid the trees that was definitely not a firefly.

(Let me know if the bunnies work!)

Lost, that was his current situation, lost in a forest on what he assumed to be somewhere on the island of corone. For all the good that information did him, he may as well take a right and be plodding over soft sand dunes in Fallien. The boy hoisted his light further up as he stepped over a root of a tree. All things considered, the day could have ended much better than it had, the highlight had been convincing the wizard to take him on as an apprentice. But since then the day had took a nose dive in expectations.

“Foreboding forest, meet Sage. Sage, meet the foreboding forest” He scoffed in contempt. “I’m sure you two will become quite acquainted with each other”

The boy openly sighed at the tone of his own snarky wit. Complaining would solve nothing. If anything his whining would only attract unwanted attention. Like his light spell, that was bound to alert someone or something.

Calming himself, he stopped to listen to the wind brush across the top of the tree’s rustling the leaves. He could hear the sounds of wildlife rummage through the dark, sounding so close and yet always staying on the edge of the
shadows. Sage shivered at the thought of running across a pack of wolves, he would be nigh defenceless.

Well not entirely defenceless. He still had that obsidian dagger that woman had given to him and the others. That had to count for something right.

He continued to move on regardless of the wind sending a chill down his spine. It was starting to get quite cold at this point and his tunic had only so much warmth to bear. Crossing his arms and clenching his jaw tightly was all
he could do. His spell gave off no warmth, even if he could hear the sound of an open fire crackle on the wind.
And for a moment, the boy dared to hope “That would be nice.”

Wait, that noise, his spell did not make a sound either. Had he imagined it? Closing his eyes and tilting his ear to the wind, he listened as carefully as he could. Just of the edge of his hearing, he heard it again, the sound of wood
popping under the heat of a flame. Actually, was that a light in the distance?
Is that a camp?

Elated, the boy quickly change his course towards the direction of the strange light, passing the tree’s with a hasty and quickened step. He only considered that they may not have been nice people, and that anyone from bandits to poachers could have been camping in the forest. His place began to slow, as he chewed on the possibility.

Was it really wise to rush towards a stranger’s camp in the middle of the night?

No, not really, but he had little choice in the matter. His options were far too limited, and he would pray that he would be alive to regret it later.

Stepping into the small little clearing, the first thing that Sage saw was the stranger with the wings. "By the gods, what was he?" Sage had read about a fair number of creatures and beings that could trace their ancestry to a dragon. But to see someone who actually looked like they had blended with a dragon? “What kind of chimera is this?” he asked with a voiceless whisper.

He was close enough to the fire that Sage could also make out other details about him. His dark hued skin and coal black hair glowed under the fires radiance. And dare he say that even from this distance that his eyes were glowing with a golden hue. But that may have just been a trick of the light.

The boy was unsettled enough to heed his instinctive flight command, to turn around and put as much distance between him and the camp as he physically could. And with any luck the stranger would not give Chace. He legs were just about to turn and bolt, but that was when he saw the other two occupants of the campfire and stood rooted to the spot.

“I…What, what are you two doing here?” He openly asked confused as to what the two women he had met in the tavern were doing here. Only to realise soon after that he should really be the one offering an answer to that question.

Melaina cursed herself for not paying better attention to her surroundings when Alina announced the arrival of a fire in the forest. She turned quickly, but it wasn't the blazing consumption of woodlife that she had expected. A light bobbed lightly, growing steadily closer.

A lantern. Her hands flickered toward her dagger hilt again and froze when she realized she had turned her back on the draconian. She whipped her head around to see where he was, but he hadn't moved. In fact, he looked mildly concerned himself.

The idea had briefly entered her mind that his story about being an object had been something meant to draw sympathy from them, especially if she faced the lantern in the forest and turned her back to an enemy. Perhaps it was because the story had struck so close to home for her. She still remembered clearly how her mother was a thing to the tribe, a birthing canal and not a person whose life was worth anything but what she could give them. And though it made no sense that someone would know her story, as she had told no one, it worried her still that someone was somehow using it, trying to make her sympathize with them so they could get closer and hurt her.

But no, the dragon-like creature was still resting by their campfire, watching the light bobbing closer and closer, and Melaina forced herself to relax. His attention was completely on the lantern, not on her or Alina.

The three of them sat there, watching as the light bobbed and drew closer. Melaina felt herself tensing every second that the light grew nearer and she wondered if the others were the same.

And then the light broke through the trees surrounded their small clearing and for a moment, Melaina could only stare.

“I…What, what are you two doing here?” the boy asked.

"Sage?" she asked in confusion. "Why are you wandering around the woods in the dark?" She stood up and moved to go over, freezing after taking only a single step. She had meant to go check on him, to see if he was all right, and the realization of her own plans startled her. Why... did she care?

She shuffled in place a moment, then grabbed a couple sticks from her small pile of wood and threw it on the fire. That's what she had intended all along. Obviously.

"Come over here and sit down where it's warm." Shut up. Shut up. Shut up. She sat back down and crossed her arms over her chest, like that would hold in her words.

Arther awoke only a few minutes into his sleep cycle. It wasn’t clear right away what had awoken him but after a quick look around he noticed that a man had entered his cage. One look at the man’s right hand told Arther that it was the man who that had cut the giant centipede. Arther reared up to look bigger and clapped his mandibles together.

“Back off burned one!” Arther projected into the man’s mind. Then just laughed as he got closer. “I’m warning you, I will take you out.” The man just kept on coming. Finally, the man got into striking distance Arther struck as he projected, “I warned you.” Arther’s mandibles clamped down on the man’s right leg and cut through it. The man cried out and held what was left of his leg. The cry alerted a few of the mercenaries that was near by to the struggle. They quickly ran in and held Arther at spear point until they got him out then closed the cage behind them. Arther then gathered energy and sent out another psychic wave with the word “Help!” on it.

However, before he could fall asleep a heavily decorated man came up to the cage's door.

“You are a beautiful specimen,” the man said with a smile. “Large, fierce, defensive, and smart. You will make me and my men extremely rich.” Arther clacked his mandibles together in a threatening manner. But the man let out a boisterous laugh. “You do not scare me creature for you are in a cage and I am not. And you will be sold tomorrow as planned. Send out as many distress calls as you want, no one will save you. No one can save you. No one comes to this forest so no one will hear you. Have a good night, creature.” The man then let out a laugh as he walked away.

After the man left, Arther laid back down and thought, ‘We will see bandit.’ Then he gathered his mental energy and sent out another psychic wave with the words, “Bandits”, “Cage”, “Help!” and started to send it out repeatedly in the hope that someone would hear and find him.

Bandits... cage... help... bandits... cage... help!

The repeated message struck Alina as she struggled to understand the conversation around the fire. As much as words, she received images... metal bars, leering faces, and an overwhelming sense of helplessness. Suddenly she wanted to help whoever was crying for aid, for she had felt what they felt. Of course, it would need to wait until morning... she would not risk Moonstrider foundering in the dark.

“You hear?” The Fallieni woman asked her companions, pointing at her temple. She’d been shocked to see the soft-featured boy Sage again, but supposed she should not be. Corone was not an overly large place, and they had not journeyed very far from the tavern where they first met.

Alina’s two friends and the lizard-kin all seemed to nod their agreement, and the dancer held up both tiny palms to regain their attention.

“No walk before sun,” she said, stringing together what passed for a sentence, “Moonstrider…” she trailed off, and then mimed breaking something and pointed at her ankle. “Not safe,” she said, and then spread her hands to indicate all four of them. “Some sleep,” she said, “others watch.”

For in a land as strange as Corone, who knew what dangers lurked within the forest’s darkened fringe.

To Varin’s utter relief -- praise Chalazae for her protection -- the light wielder that emerged from the darkened trees was not, indeed, a fey being intent on deceiving and devouring them.

Instead it was a brunette human whom the other two seemed to already know. Their eyes snapped up in recognition of her. If Varin was comfortable with the idea of mixing blood with humans, and stable enough to pursue romance, he might have been smitten with her. Her features were soft and pleasant, strikingly attractive for a non-Drakari. As it was, he merely relaxed and studied her features in hope of memorizing enough of them for a good sketch later. Arie, who was bumping her head against Varin’s cheek and making sultry chirps, was soundly shushed with a tap on the beak. Hush you.

The woman, too, had stared at him as if he were some sort of eldritch creature. Evidently, someone hadn't met a Drakari before. With Melaina’s invitation, this “Sage” dissipated her little spell of light to take a grateful spot at the blazing fire.

Before before Varin had a chance to utter a proper greeting, an unsettling cry echoed faintly through the woods again. And again. And again, deeply startling the four. At first Varin startled at the sound, wrapping his wings around himself as if to drown it out, forgetting momentarily that it was a mental force rather than physical sound.

“Bandits… cage… help!”

Well, that was a little more specific than the first outburst. Cage was a particularly concerning word to the tired Drakari.

Bright-eyed as ever, Arie scampered to the other side of the fire to beep excitedly in the direction of the disturbance before returning to Varin. Her master merely hunched over, listening, as he peered out from the flimsy protection of his wings. The calls were still coming, bleeding into one’s thoughts a little even as they were brushed aside. Varin very nearly missed Alina’s suggestions.

“...not safe. Some sleep, others watch,” she said sensibly to the whole of the group. Her horse, a dun creature folded over in sleep, snored as if in some agreement.

”Not safe” indeed.” Varin nodded quietly and spoke up after her. “I agree with this notion. Ah, who should be the first to take watch?” Arie unsurprisingly bounced up as if to volunteer herself immediately, her tail twitching.

It wasn’t likely to be him, he guessed. Out of all present, Varin was the one least acquainted with anyone, and the most suspicious in appearance in human lands. Melaina still gave him trustless, semi-predatory looks out of the corner of her eyes. She was a stern figure. It made for a steely portrait.

“And,” he added just above the snap of the fire, Arie’s joyous volunteerism, and the lingering whispers of the call, “if I may dare to suggest such a thing, perhaps we should investigate the source of this psychic racket in the morning. If only for the peace of our minds?”

Sage felt elated at the welcome he had received. After fearing that he would be forced to wonder the forest at night and alone, the mere prospect of coming across a camp fire –Complete with his new best friends- and he was willing to say all was right with the world. The warmth of the fire that kissed his skin was a pleasant contrast to the chill of the night.

But his good fortune also seemed a little suspicious. On one hand, it was either by chance that his new part time mentor had dropped him off in the wrong location. And it was by complete accident that he would be able to come across a couple of people he was sure were agreeable company.

Either his luck was really something to behold or the old man knew exactly where he was dropping him off. ‘But why would he? He could not possibly have known that these people were here’
Sage brushed the paranoid conjecture aside as he allowed Melaina to usher him to the camp and he settled down with a warm smile. He felt unable to say “Thank you” enough times to truly convey how thankful he was for their hospitality and their generosity.

“Thank you” He repeated with a sheepish smile and brushed his locks of hair away from his face once more. “You have no idea how much I-”

~Bandits … Cage … Help!~

“-Gyahh!”

Startled at the sudden mental cry not his own. Sage was back on his knees in a flash, awkwardly preparing to intercept any possible danger. Wide eyed like a startled doe and more than a little panicked, the boy stared out into the darkness of the forest fearing that something was now lurking just out of sight.

His heart pounded in his chest as his hand sought out the obsidian dagger he kept tucked in his belt in the small of his back. When he saw nothing suspicious he swallowed heavily and cautiously scanned the shadows suspiciously.

He turned to the others to see if they were also taking up a defensive posture, and proceeded to halt in with his own defence when he saw that they appeared to be relatively more resigned to the mental plea than he was.

Perplexed, the boy dropped his guard in favour of watching Alina mill around as though the psychic cry was little more than an annoyance at this point. The boy blinked in confusion when the Dragon-person asked who would be taking the first watch. He seemed to pause for only a moment before asking casually if they should investigate the source of the mental projections first thing in the morning.

But was it not a cry for help? It was a broken message, but the tone that had echoed in his mind was clear enough for sage to fill in the blanks on his own, ‘Bandits have me in a cage, please someone, help!’

“Is that wise?” he wondered in concern, a frown beginning to form on his features. Hugging his legs close to his chest, the would-be-mage turned to his fellow campers and enquired “Is this something that has been going on only recently?”

‘Had to be’ with the way they were seemingly treating the plea for help, it stood to reason that this was not the first time they had heard it. “I have only just got back to Corone rather recently. I’ve been, eh, elsewhere.” He said idly wiping away the last few grains of sand that had been clinging to his boot.

“But whoever or whatever is making that mental projection is coming across as rather desperate” He clarified while tapping the side of his head. The boy paused, realising that he was all but suggesting they run off into the dark forest to try and rescue someone from a group of bandits. Not only that, but the mental projection was soundless, leaving no hint of a clue as to which direction they would even need to go in.

Sage openly frowned, it did not sit well with him that something was openly crying for help and he was unable to do anything. “I’m not in favour of actions made in haste… but. By the morning light it may be already too late to save them.”

Melaina's mouth twisted downward in a grimace. Sage made a fair point. She would readily admit to herself that she had planned to leave their camp the moment the sun began to lighten the horizon. Cages, physically or not, were a point of contention with her and she couldn't abide a helpless creature being trapped within one without cause. She could give no reason to the thought, but the plea for help hurled into her mind evoked a feeling of innocence being shredded away by unfair captivity. Granted, she knew better than most how that could easily be a trick, but it bore investigating nonetheless.

"We can't risk Moonstrider wandering the forest in the dark." She nodded toward Alina's horse, who she didn't think Sage had met yet. "If we trip, we might well break a nose, but a horse could well be lamed for life, or not live long past an accident." She tilted her head to the side. "Asides from that, we wouldn't be able to sneak up on any bandits with a horse clopping around us. And I doubt you know the woods here well enough, Alina, to lead her through at a gallop for a rescue." She hesitated, realized that she was probably confusing the other woman more than anything, and said, "Moonstrider can not go fast in trees, sun or moon."

At Alina's nod, she sighed. "I don't know how smart she is, but I wouldn't want to leave her by her lonesome with bandits wandering around, anyway. Alina will have to stay with her." Left unspoken but no doubt heard was that she wouldn't trust their newest companion to watch the horse while Alina came with them. For all she knew, the draconian creature considered horse a delicacy. Maybe he considered siren a delicacy, too. She felt her shoulders tense at the thought of her new human companions being eaten by a creature she didn't know and resisted the urge to bare her teeth at him.

Instead, she looked at Sage. "But you're right. Morning is far enough off that the danger might well be past by then, and our chance to help, as well." She looked down, frowning. "Alina will have to stay with Moonstrider, but if we can perform some reconnaissance, get an idea of where these bandits are and their captive, and how many of them there are, we could make a plan." She eyed the dragon creature. "We'll need to discuss what we can bring to the table as far as offensive and defensive measures, though." She personally didn't like that idea much. She disliked giving away any information that could make herself more vulnerable. If it were just Sage, she would feel better. The boy was so openly enamored with magic, she couldn't imagine him using it against her. More likely, he would grill her for all the information she had on her species' capabilities, if she were to reveal to him what she was. Not that she had any intention of doing that.

She sat back and eyed her companions, waiting for their thoughts. It occurred to her that this was the most that she had spoken to any of them and it was leading into a discussion of tactics.

Since when did she play on a team?

As the call for help was sent out continuously, Arthur began to fear that his efforts would be useless. However, on the outer edge of his mental wave, elves had just received his message and have already discovered which direction it came from. Easy to do when you can see the curvature of the outer edge of the mental ripple just by looking at there group. The elves, with the belief that it was a human psychic or even possibly one of their own, headed off in the direction that the mental wave came from.