An Adventure in Black - Chapter II

[Ridgen Sú'ufanán]

Having received no reply as of yet, Ridgen decided to take a look around and observe. Everyone appeared to be fine, but there was something... off about the situation. Perhaps it was a rustle in the foliage. Perhaps it was an illusion of movement created by the wildlife around them. Perhaps it was the furious ticking of the pocketwatch hidden inside his overcoat. Or maybe it was something much more sinister? Delfagren certainly wouldn't delay in attempting to take the box off them. In their current state, he doubted that they would be able to fight off the demon man and protect the box - as well as their injured comrades - at the same time. There were a lot more things at stake this time.

The pocket watch's furious ticking continued; was it much faster than usual? That was odd. It must be defective. Was the donkey grazing over there agitated? A closer look proved that it was merely irritated at the fact that it had accidentally taken a few stones in its mouth. The plants in the foliage continued to give the illusion of movement, rustling as they were blown about in the wind. Ridgen stared at a particular spot for a moment - was that an intruder? With a hand on his sword hilt, he silently approached, watching intently for something to happen.

No, it was just Jarrox. That was a relief. Ridgen relaxed for a minute, only to tense up again at the sound of something else, at the sight of a demonic form darting from cover to cover. There was no way that they could fight here. The agitated elf went over to where Alyr, Gillith and the old lady were sitting. Or standing. It did not quite matter. They had to leave, now.

"We should get on the move now. We've stayed in one spot for a bit too long, don't you think? Oh, and I saw someone move through the brush. He looked a lot like that demon guy." Hushed, urgent words. Yes, it was about time that they were back on the move. "We should move the injured over to Tak and Termat's carts so that we may be able to heal on the move. Let's go."

[Roy Tmofl]

Roy was feelings were confused now. At first he had thought this gnome a danger to his art. By perhaps going around and purposefuly or not making fire magis look stupid. Which would loose them respect and worse fear.

But upon taking another look at this small creature he found no reason to beleive that anyone in their right mind could mistake him for a mage. So all in all he was willing to tolerate his annoying moments(which seemed plentiful enough) so long as he did no real damage to the fire mages reputation.

As he was pondering this he heard the gnomes response on him not being able to use them. You shall see otherwise little gnome he thought.

Then when he managed to get his burning stones he smiled earily and deposited them throughout various secret inner pockets among him. After this he heard another person speack saying they should leave. He agreed. It was dangerous here as demonstrated by whatever things attacked these people. There was no time to fool around. But what attacked them? It didn't matter if he knew now so long as he found out he decided.

[Quáel]

Quáel leaned against a tall, old tree as the remainder of the party filed into the clearing. All looked injured and uneasy, yet the gathering of them all lifted the air a little.

There were others who were joining the group as well, a gnome, an old healer woman, and a sickly, hunched over man with robes and a staff. This man was very curious, from time to time his sleeves would reveal his skeleton-like hands, his face so sunken you could make out all of the bones under the almost transparent skin.

The gnome was a silly little fella, Quáel thought he could bring a smile on faces even when they were down. Termat had offered some wine, and why not, thought Quáel. But just as she was about to approach the finely dressed man, and accept his offer, Ridgen made a point that we have been here too long.

As she awaited Alyr's response, she noticed Gilith had a very deep wound in his arm, probably from the hell hounds. Quáel pushed off the tree trunk, and awaited the departure, which was sure to bring more danger.   

[Alýr (Rayne)]

"Let us see what this (he almost said old) woman can do first eh?"

The indigo-eyed elf smiled at Gilith kindly. Her magical energies were fairly restored, but the young archer was right: the healing would weaken her, and there were many companions here who needed to be healed. She nodded gently to the young man's proposition.

Was there a chill in the air? No--it felt more like a shadow permeating in the movements of the wind, scattering it like frightened birds or horses. The slight changes were like a fly about her ear, though her attention was still mostly taken by the man in front of her.

She heard Ridgen approach, and glanced back to meet his worried, silvery eyes: "We should get on the move now. We've stayed in one spot for a bit too long, don't you think? Oh, and I saw someone move through the brush. He looked a lot like that demon guy." His words were soft, but urgent. "We should move the injured over to Tak and Termat's carts so that we may be able to heal on the move. Let's go."

It was then that Alýr let the full weight of the situation fill her senses. Her indigo eyes looked out upon the forest. The rogue breezes that pressed her robes and tugged at the tendrils of her hair were whispering of danger in the woods, pursuading the group to take the path onward. She couldn't see what Ridgen saw, nor hear what he heard, for his senses were more refined than hers, but she could feel something dark in the way the forest car'all shifted and breathed.

"I-I think you're right, Ridgen," spoke the slender mage, and she turned back to her injured companion. "Gilith, are you able to make it to Termat's cart? Miss..." Alýr looked into the eyes of the old woman, realizing she did not know her name, but now was not the time "... do you might healing in motion? I fear we are not safe in stillness."

She used a small bit of magic to may Gilith lighter, to ease his movement toward the cart, and offered him her arm to steady him.

[Gilith]

He listened to the elf's words drinking them in as he pondered them. Of course it would be lickely that the enemy would attack as they become a group once more. Disorganise them then strike at them individualy. Then as they are gathered back together they feel good they get slightly unwary. They need time to heal the wounded, reorganize themselves plan a new plan. A situation in where a group was at its weakest in where an attack would be devestating.

Of course they probably thought of this and have an ambush ready for us and an attack ready for us if we don't move. Or so Gilith thought. He could be wrong but there were not to many options left to them.

"I-I think you're right, Ridgen, Gilith, are you able to make it to Termat's cart? Miss..." do you might healing in motion? I fear we are not safe in stillness."

"Hmm" Then the meaning of the words sank into him. "I mean yes but er... I should probably be ready in case of another attack."

Gilith Got to his feet which felt far easier than it had been to get down with the extra balanced provided by Rayne's arm.

"Ah thank you very much Rayne" He said as he was helped to his feet but trying to put as little weight as possible on the arm that supported him. His gratitude grew all the more as he noticed her pained expression at his suffering. "But.. well what I mean to say is... I don't think I'm in quite bad enough shape to be taken out of action quite yet."

"If the woman (He nodded towarsds the old woman) would like to patch up my left arm very quickly I think I could still be of some assistance after all we have very little time to waiste and it would be best if we looked our strongest For I can still use my sword arm just as well as before. In fact come to think of it I'm feeling quite a bit better." He lied.

Gilith was in pain but the Miyu berries and alchohal had lessend it considerably. If he perhaps had more of either he would be able to walk normally as his side was not in nearly as bad condition as his arm.

He did not want to slow this party down all becuase he couldn't handle a bit of wounds he was after all suppose to be used to this sort of thing. But if he did not get this treated he would not be able to draw his bow for at least a weak so perhaps later he would let Rayne or someone use magic on him. But for now he had work to do so he simply waited for a response or action as he stood as best he could without any support.

[Tak]

When Roy grabbed the stones without saying a word Tak grumbled something about manners and tall people under his breath.

"We should get on the move now. We've stayed in one spot for a bit too long, don't you think? Oh, and I saw someone move through the brush. He looked a lot like that demon guy.  We should move the injured over to Tak and Termat's carts so that we may be able to heal on the move. Let's go."

Tak wasn't entirely sure what was going on, but he started shifting things around in his cart to make way for those that were injured.  But he had to do this very, very carefully.  The barrel of burning stones got rolled over to the back corner, the boxes of saltpetre, torch-ore, kerostone, brimstone, and ghostine in the opposite corner.  He left his bitumen, benza and various alchemical reagents where they were, so long as they were out of the way.  He wasn't sure where to put his other bits and bobs but he stuffed as much stuff out of the way so someone could sit in his cart horizontally relatively comfortably.

Tak re-fastened his failed fragscent launcher to face backward and left the fuse close to him.  He figured if someone were following them, he might as well have a nasty surprise waiting for them.  Tak also thought about prepping a larger explosive, but settled with grabbing one of the winskins filled with Abngor and Tak’s Super Flammable and Sticky Solution and hefted it over his shoulder. 

He raced over to Rayne and Gilith.  “You two go to Termat, I think my cart should bring up the rear and we wouldn't want our fearless leader in the back!”  Tak shifted the wineskin on his shoulder, “Who else is injured?  I need to give them a quick safety demonstration and go over the rules of my cart before we get moving.  Arms and legs inside at all times, no touching the experiments, keep your hands out of the Malthanune, that sort of thing.”

[Serpentfang]

A few instances of wriggling and rubbing later, the psyrpent finally detached his old covering and revealed a new one. He stood up wearily from his previous position, letting the scale slide down his back and land on the ground, raising a small cloud of dust as he did so. He held his left shoulder and swung his left arm slowly, relieving the sore joints he got from staying in one position for too long. Then he repeated the procedure with his right arm. He stretched his back, getting a little pleasure in cracking his back. Finally he jerked his head sideways a little, producing a similar cracking sound in his neck in the process.

He rubbed his eyes, letting it adjust in the sunlight for a few blinks. Then he picked the discarded scale from the ground and held it in front of him. Aside from the stretched forearm part, everything is in good condition. He shook the molted scale a little, removing most of the dust and dirt that accumulated in it. Then he rolled it up and carefully stored it in his bag, taking up nearly all the space in it. A little bit of the scale is showing, and none of the psyrpent's attempts to hide it proved useless.

He stepped out of the shrub, waking his sleeping dog in the process. David immediately stood up and wagged his tail, eager to get going. The psyrpent patted his head and walked towards his companions, many of whom are getting ready to move. He stood a few peds away from them, preferring solitude than being in a crowd of normal humans, squishy humans, and the long ears.

[Roy Tmofl]

while Roy seemed detached from most of the things around him he was not. Everything he heard or saw which was much as he constantly was looking around he stored in his vast and great memory for use perhaps later. He was not one to get involved in things that didn't concern him but seeing as how he paid a lot for a few things (albeit he was still considerably exited about it) he would need more money. He did not know what kind of person this Alyre was but he doubted very much that she could bring together so many creatures at one one time because of her sheer goodness. No there must be more. Perhaps promise of sans or other valuables were offered to these travelers.

He could use the money but where they going to the same place as he and what were they gaurding. Well he knew they gaurded Alyre but what did she have. Why was she headed towards Xiamax or perhaps near the most magical city in the world. Why she was a mage but also an elf. Not neccesarily the most ambitious of people so she would not probably go through with this hellish journey unless for a purpose. He highly doubted that she was going there to learn as she seemed to know a considerable amount of magic. He also doubted if she was going there to simply extend her power. The elves had their own magic so so she would probably not go out of her way to learn "human magic" she would get her advanced learning with her fellow elves.

All in all this was a most confusing situation to Roy. He could not clearly see what these people were doing here or going to do. But he did know it was strange most of the clues pointed to the fact that they had something and that they needed to do something or deliver something perhaps. Deliver... interesting they might have something. Magic even! well perhaps for the purpose of finding said object and perhaps leaving with said object he could stay with these people for a while. It would be difficult but if he were to earn there trust and make it look like some one else stole the.....

Already before he even knew if their was something to steal his dark yet intelligent mind was already at work attempting to figure out how he could pull off the most brilliant theft.

He stopped mid thought. Before he got ahead of himself he would have to know more. He went over to yet another elf female shorter than normal yet still taller than most. Maybe even with him. He gave of the impression of being shorter than he normaly was because off all the leanong he did on his staff which caused him to hunch
over slightly and lower his head. The head lowering was however a habit he developed in order to keep his face hidden in shadow. Better to have them stare in mystery rather than a strange fixation about his looks he had thought at the time. After a while he began not to care but the habbit died hard.

When he reached her he tapped her shoulder to draw her attention and asked in styrash(he found most creatures liked to be addressed in their native tongues)

"Pardon me I do not know wether you need it but you seem to be in peril and perhaps I can aid your group as you can see but may not know that light was created by me as I am a fire mage. I only need know your destination and the minimal facts about your cause."

His quiet voice was slightly louder and a little smoother than normal. But not to smooth he needed to do this perfect. Not over nor under done but simply in the middle as if this was normal as if he was actually conserned. The last part was easy. He was concerned. Not about this group of course but about what he could get from them.

[Deklitch Hardin]

With a speed and an agility that was at odds with her age, the old woman planted her staff into the ground and then jumped up into Termat's cart ... it was most unladylike, indeed it wouldn't be part of the curriculum at the Goutonch School for Ladies in Bardavos, but it was effective.

"And you said I couldn't do it, dearest," she said reporoachfully to the air just behind her as she pulled up her walking stick.

She looked over Gilith and she tutted to herself, "you are in quite a state, aren't you?" she noted, "but I'm sure I can heal you. Herbs, bandages and a bad smelling and foul tasting potion for you. If you insist on getting into fights with those more powerful than yourself, what else do you expect to happen?"

She reached into a pouch at her belt and pulled out a small green flask with a brown liquid in it ... it had drops of blue in it as well. She placed that at her side, and then pulled out two bags, "Yahlre ointment or Odea powder," she mused aloud and looked towards Alyr.

"The Odea is more powerful, definitely, but it has those euphoric side effects," she said.

"In any case," the old woman said, turning back to Gilith, "you've got to drink this," and she handed the flask over to him, "hold your nose and close your eyes, and take a big drink."

She turned to the air to her left and said, "no, Dearest, it isn't a love potion ... you're the only one for me, you know that."

[Alýr (Rayne)]

"But.. well what I mean to say is... I don't think I'm in quite bad enough shape to be taken out of action quite yet," Gilith was saying as Alýr walked with him to Termat's cart. "If the woman would like to patch up my left arm very quickly I think I could still be of some assistance after all we have very little time to waste and it would be best if we looked our strongest, for I can still use my sword arm just as well as before. In fact come to think of it I'm feeling quite a bit better."

At his side, the elfess must have felt like wind--calm, an easy presence guiding him toward Termat's cart. She noticed the young gentleman had let his donkey out to graze. She looked to Gilith: "I doubt if anyone here had not had a run-in with... my old acquaintance," she said with a strange uneasiness. "None of us are in the condition to fight, and you are certainly of better use as a protector if you are healed." She smiled at him with gentleness, for she guessed the motivations behind his insistence.

As they approached the cart, she addressed the young man who's dark blue cravat and earthy-green jacket seemed unruffled in the least. "Mr. Geirskun, we are in need of your cart, if you would be so kind. We should like to heal on the move; the stillness seems disconcerting, and I think we should all be better to carry on. I hope it will not be a bother."

Her eyes were like twilight and her words like a river, and every manner of her movement was like a lyric to the song of nature around them. To watch her and hear her was to experience a dozen amorous opposites melding into strange harmony: Courteousness and assertiveness, calmness and quickness, wisdom and wistfulness--even composure and surprise as she watched as the old woman jumped into the cart with curious agility.

Like a guiding wind, the indigo-eyed elfess helped Gilith to the cart as the woman went through her belongings. She hardly knew how to respond when the woman pulled out two bags and looked at her, but the old woman was clearly speaking more to herself than anyone.

As the woman was going through her various ointments, pastes, and liquids, Alýr glanced back at Ridgen and gestured him over. He stepped over, and she met him a few steps away from the cart. "You are a water mage, are you not?" He nodded. "I wish to teach you a spell."

He looked at her, a bit perplexed, and she explained: "Many of our group have chaos in them; the unstable influences of fire. I do not know when this chaos will become too great a force for their will alone to hold it back. Nor am I certain if I alone will be able to still the floods that may come. I need you to be able to calm the raging car'all, should the need arise."

Ridgen nodded dutifully, understanding. He recalled the way that the psyrpent had leapt across the table to kill that demon-woman back at the inn. "I am ready to learn it, if you need me to."

Alýr smiled. "Close your eyes. Focus on your own car'all." As he closed his eyes, she did as well. Her voice was melodic, almost hypnotic. "You know where the water oun are, how they move, how they shift and change and grow stronger. Listen to them."

Ridgen could locate them, noticing what properties were enhanced, which were hidden--at least, those properties he was used to manipulating. Then, he felt an influence on his car'all other than his own will; Alýr's was drifting into his, like a artful breeze, and he began to notice something illuminating in his water ounia he hadn't noticed before--a part that he hadn't touched, like an undiscovered country. The property illuminated under the skillful work of the elfess, and he felt a calm wash over him. All the chaos around them seemed to dull for him, and he felt at ease.

He felt the will depart and opened his eyes, which shone clear with discovery and comprehension. He looked at the indigo-eyed elf a moment, soaking in what he had noticed and felt of the changes in his own car'all. Then the elfess spoke again: "Now it is your turn," she said, and motioned to Gilith.

Together, they walked to the cart and Alyr addressed Gilith. "Ridgen will cast a calming spell on you. It will make the healing easier as we mend what is broken." She nodded to Ridgen.

At this queue, Ridgen closed his eyes and let out a breath. He focused on Gilith's car'all, reaching out to discover its composure in terms of water ounia. He located them easily, then began searching for the property of calm. He pressed his willpower to activate the property, trying to bring about calmness in his target.

[Gilith]

Gilith all the while being led to the cart by Rayne had to agree with her. What she said did make sense so perhaps he should just agree with it and speed things up.
Yet while he was content to let Rayne do as she migt do he was a little weary of the old womans healing... Things for lack of a better word he thought to himself as he accepted the treatments. Hmmm. Some of the names sounded familiar to him but he wasn't sure if they were healing herbs or poisons he was told to stay away from.

"Ah thank you kindly."  He said to the old woman as she gave him the things she said would help. Then as Rayne came back to him and said

"Ridgen will cast a calming spell on you. It will make the healing easier as we mend what is broken."

"Um... sure why not!" He said as someone who decides to just let go and simply except what was going to happen.

Though for a few moments he pondered this strange mission. His employer's were not normally this nice to him. He was accustomed to the "Get up you lazy dog or I'll show you what a real broken arm looks like!"

But not the conceren and smilling of this employer. Sure it made a nice change but he truly was built to be pushed as much as possible. What would happen if he wasn't being pushed. Would he not be able to do the best he possible could. Or would he fight better with the thought. Well if I'm killed at least my employer will bury me.

As he pondered these thoughts he had a sort of amusing blank look that would cause some of his friends to laugh if they ever saw him thinking so hard. Not that they thought he was dumb. Far from it in fact but truth be told Gilith did not like to do much leading or concentrate very hard on something he didn;t have to. He was content to do as he was told rather than to tell those around him to do things.

Then as he saw the elf wich Rayne had told something to approach him he said to Rayne "I have been meaning to ask you though." He paused choosing his next words very carefully. "What in this world or another did we fight? I am going to stay no matter what for I already have a guess at what they are. But I must say I am a little short on the Who and over all why." 

Even as he said this he took up a relaxed look. He leanded a little as he sat, he was no longer nervous, no longer wary, no longer in too much pain.

[Alýr (Rayne)]

"I have been meaning to ask you, though" Gilith said as Alýr approached, and her eyes lifted to meet his. The hesitancy in his voice made her prepare for oratory lightness. "What in this world or another did we fight? I am going to stay no matter what for I already have a guess at what they are. But I must say I am a little short on the Who and over all why."

The elfess sighed a little. She glanced around at her other companions, for though it was Gilith's voice who uttered the question, it was likely one many of them had been asking silently. She began with the information many of them already knew: "Those that pursue us seek the box. He who held it before me was killed by them, and since it came to my keeping, I have discovered in the oldest tomes of the Great Library that the object within is a creation of dark inclinations--some conduit that links this world to the netherworld, giving he who possesses it the ability to summon demons to Caelereth."

Though her words spoke of darkness, she noticed the calmness beginning to envelope her companion. Her indigo eyes set upon Ridgen briefly and distantly, her gaze like a snow that falls tenderly in the night--light as down feathers and strangely comforting. She recognized the movement of his will, which passed outside of him like a ghost through the tangled web of carallia around them to find Gilith's, to shiver across the water ounia, and to illuminate in them the quality of tranquility.

She turned back to Gilith, her voice serious and yet peaceful (there was something pleasing in the sound of her voice, like the pleasure of watching the movements of a flame dancing upon a candle): "He who pursues us is a man, though his beliefs have twisted his appearance to half-demon. His name is Defalgren, and he is a powerful Seeker within the True Vision Cult. The Cult thrives in the wild mountains beyond Ximax, and practices demonology and demonic worship--which alters their appearance for the darker and endows them with strange and twisted powers. If they came to possess the box's contents, Caelereth would be beleaguered by the darkest creatures of nightmare, and destroyed by shadows born of chaos."

As though realizing that her tone had grown leaden with solemnness, she added: "As long as they do not possess the box, all is well--but it must be destroyed. I do not know how this may be done, but I hope Ximax will have answers."

She glanced back to Ridgen to find that he had concluded his spellcast--and the results seemed surprisingly effective, particularly for a mage who had but cast the spell for the first time. She invited the Cyhallrhim to come sit in the cart. He seemed hesitant to accept, but the elfess was assertive: "You have drained much of your magical energies. Come--rest, if only for a moment."

To exhausted to fight the graceful elf, Ridgen climbed into the cart and took a seat near the front. He couldn't help but hear the ticking of the watch in his pocket. There was something strange about it, though he was too tired just now to pay it much mind.

Alýr looked up to see if the donkey had resumed its place at the front of the cart, or if Termat needed any help. Though he had offered the cart previously, she still felt a bit apologetic for requiring its use. But the woods were full of fluttering darknesses with evil intentions, and she was eager to be moving.

[Termat Geirskun]

An elf - another one, though rather different from Alýr - had approached Termat as the apparently self-styled Tak “The Magnificent” leapt away to supply the sinister, staff-bearing, pale man with some strange item called a burning stone. This latest elf had requested a glass of wine - a desire Termat was only too happy to fulfil - but as he uncorked the bottle to pour a second glass, the elf seemed to be taken by a sudden bout of nerves, and, as Termat stood there concerned, his eyes flicked with increasing panic from place to place, before widening with a momentary shock and he moved quickly and tensely towards Alýr, Gilith and the old woman.

Not that Termat was immune to the feelings himself - whether it was just the elf’s nerves, or something more sinister, he felt his hand begin to shake slightly as he held the cork, though the reassuring weight of the bottle kept his other hand steady, and as the elf flicked his fearful gaze over some rustling bushes, and Termat followed his widening eyes, he felt a cold wash of fear begin deep in his gut and rush through his limbs.

As the elf moved off, Termat felt the sense of an all-pervading shadow begin to lessen; his donkey seemed to be less agitated, and his head became clearer. The sun even came out from where it had been blocked by one of the high trees that lined the path, and so in the warm sunlight, Termat settled down on the edge of his cart with a glass of wine in his hand and began to daydream.

It was daydreaming that the others found him, when Alýr, Gilith, the second elf and the old woman approached his cart.

“Mr. Geirskun, we are in need of your cart, if you would be so kind. We should like to heal on the move; the stillness seems disconcerting, and I think we should all be better to carry on. I hope it will not be a bother.” As she finished, Termat bowed his head slightly, made a gesture of assent with his free hand, and replied: “Absolutely. Feel free to put as many people on it as are needed.” He had no idea whether it would take two or five to heal Gilith, but if they sat on the trunks it would be possible to get them all on. The old lady leapt up first, with an agility that gave the lie to her seeming frailty of age.

Gilith followed her into the cart, but Alýr - or did she prefer Rayne? - drew her fellow elf to one side and began to speak to him in a soft voice. Termat was oddly reminded of his own few lines from shortly after he had come across the group - like a zephyr from across the seas indeed - but could only make out the quality of the words. Shortly, he saw the elf’s eyes close, and an expression of peace spread across his pale features; Alýr also had her eyes closed, and a look of patient concentration on her face. After just a few blinks, the pair opened their eyes and returned to the cart, where Alýr told Gilith that Ridgen - presumably the elf - would cast a calming spell - possibly the subject of their earlier discussion -on him. Gilith took it well, but appeared perplexed or hesitant about the path of events, and as his stance seemed to relax, he leant forward and began to ask a question.

“I have been meaning to ask you, though: What in this world or another did we fight? I am going to stay no matter what, for I already have a guess at what they are. But I must say I am a little short on the who and overall why.” Termat’s ears - well, they would have perked up, had they been able to. Instead, he merely looked politely, but with interest, from Gilith to Alýr. The elfess sighed, and began to speak, seeming to pitch her voice so as to be heard by other members of the group than just her questioner.

“Those who pursue us seek the box. He who held it before me was killed by them, and since it came to my keeping, I have discovered in the oldest tomes of the Great Library that the object within is a creation of dark inclinations - some conduit that links this world to the Netherworld, giving him who possesses it the ability to summon demons to Caelereth. He who pursues us is a man, though his beliefs have twisted his appearance to half-demon. His name is Defalgren, and he is a powerful Seeker within the True Vision Cult.” As she moved on to the True Vision Cult, Termat remembered childhood tales and thought with slight amusement that although fairy stories contained many unrealisms, he had never heard one in which the demon fell to the hand of a landed dandy; then he felt a frisson of worry at the same idea.

“The cult thrives in the wild mountains beyond Ximax, and practises demonology and demonic worship - which alters their appearance for the darker and endows them with strange and twisted powers. If they came to possess the box’s contents, Caelereth would be beleaguered by the darkest creatures of nightmare, and destroyed by shadows born of chaos.”

Her doom-laden sentence seemed to resonate as she continued, in a lighter tone, “As long as they do not have the box, all is well - but it must be destroyed. I do not know how this may be done, but I hope Ximax will have answers.”

At her pressing, the elf - Ridgen - climbed into the cart, and sat down heavily near the front; with a brief bob and a smile to Alýr, Termat was beside him.

“Sir - Ridgen, is that correct? Is that a first name? - if you still want a glass of wine, help yourself,” - here Termat pressed the bottle and a glass into the elf’s hand - “if any of you want blankets they’re in the trunk you’re sitting on,” - a gesture - “and if there’s anything I can do to help, just ask.” He smiled again, the half-smile dancing across his face like a waxed moon, back to its customary mild amusement in an instant. With another swift inclination of his head, he was back by Alýr’s side.

“Miss. Alýr, if there’s anything I can do to help, just ask. There should be room on my cart for a couple more, at least, but anything else is no trouble at all either. Now, if we’re moving off, I’ll get my donkey hitched back up; if you haven’t got to do anything, feel free to get a glass of wine from Ridgen.”

[Alýr (Rayne)]

Just as the elfess's eyes moved from the donkey to locate its dapper young owner, she found him at her side: "Miss Alýr, if there’s anything I can do to help, just ask. There should be room on my cart for a couple more, at least, but anything else is no trouble at all either. Now, if we’re moving off, I’ll get my donkey hitched back up; if you haven’t got to do anything, feel free to get a glass of wine from Ridgen."

The elf's eyes looked into his of dark blue; her expression seemed almost nonplus, strangely innocent for one so wise--heightened by the small cut in her lip and bruise upon her cheek where Defalgren struck her. But whatever it was in his words that engendered that brief shadow of emotion, it fell from her quickly, and she smiled courteously. "We are moving out, I think. Between your cart and Tak's, I think we should hold everyone. Thank you for the offer of drink, Mr. Geirskun, but rest is not yet mine to take." With a smile and small, polite curtsy, she was wind again, moving effortlessly.

"Quael, will you join Mr. Geirskun's cart?" Her eyes drifted to Juliette, whose minor cuts elicited her concern. "You as well, Juliette?" The woman nodded, reticent and sharp, and stepped into the cart to settle herself beside Ridgen.

"Tak, if you have room, perhaps Irid, Jarrox, and Remis might have space on your cart?"

She turned to see the red mage standing there, and she looked at him a moment. There was something dark about him, almost sinister, but she could not help but feel there was something else, some mystery and power in him; she could not tell whether he would bring them benefit or harm, but she felt certain that their paths would tangle somehow, and the woods, as they were, were dangerous.

She approached him with an easy swiftness, as though her feet did not even touch the ground. "Forgive me, sir, for not thanking you properly, but we have not the luxury of time. Let me say that my is Alýr (though many call me Rayne) and that the woods are trecherous--all the more so by our presence--and for you by your aid. I hope you'll forgive me that, but let me at least offer you the safety of numbers. If you wish, you may travel with us. I am sure Tak will have space for you upon his cart. Will you join us, and give me the pleasure of knowing your name?"

[Roy Tmofl]

When Roy heard the words from the elf Alyre he could barely contain his excitement despite the fact they were being hunted. An object that could sommun demons. This he would require later on. Especially if he wanted to enslave the demon who cursed him. This simple would open a gate to the netherworld and allow him to draw out the wretched creature! Of course he would still have to fight it and enslave it. He did not know how this would be done but he knew their must be way. He had read that there was at least one man who had been able to controll that specific demon. If he could only find out how then he would be able to extract his revenge.

But these thoughts were cut short as Alyre approached him.

"Forgive me, sir, for not thanking you properly, but we have not the luxury of time. Let me say that my is Alýr (though many call me Rayne) and that the woods are trecherous--all the more so by our presence--and for you by your aid. I hope you'll forgive me that, but let me at least offer you the safety of numbers. If you wish, you may travel with us. I am sure Tak will have space for you upon his cart. Will you join us, and give me the pleasure of knowing your name?"

He smiled less darkly than he would have normally. "My name Is Roy Tmofl and think nothing of it Alyre. It is my pleasure to aid travellers such as yourselfs. As it appears we travel in the same direction I would be delighted to accompany you thus far. However I would love to have back my burning stone." He said still smilling as he pointed to the spot in the sky were his burning stone still shone like a beacon.

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