Raven Darkblade:
"You know I think you're an idiot, I hardly have to tell you that. I also admit it's not something you can help - I only consider myself blessed by Solaras that I have been able to avoid all such entanglements before. What do you intend to do about it, then?"

What do you intend to do about it, then? The words echoed through Solarin's mind. Suddenly, despite the mid-afternoon sunlight, a chill seeped through his veins. He drew his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around himself and wondering, with a trace of helpless confusion, when exactly he'd become self-destructive.

What do you intend to do about it, then? The campsite, the forest, Atalaya and Raven - everything melted into an unfocused, painful blur. Solarin closed his eyes, only to be confronted by a cold, mocking face. (Go away, damn you,) he told the phantom. (It hurts.)

What do you intend to do about it, then? Master Naharel demanded from the dark recesses of his memory. A Solarin a century younger answered through gritted teeth, I'll try again.

Abruptly he opened his eyes. "Do? Atalaya, there is nothing I can do." His voice was soft, barely audible to anyone more than three feet away, but nothing could mask the pain in his face. "What do you want me to say? I love her. I'd die for her, kill for her. She's killing me by degrees. I can't tell her. I can't even touch her." His voice went bitter. "She trusts me not to touch her - and that terrifies me half out of my mind. I can't even leave this game with my sanity intact. My friend, I'm doing remarkably well to not break down and howl.

"I'll stay with her, of course, until she kills me or something like that." Solarin shrugged, looking at Raven's peaceful face. "There are worse ways to die, I suppose. Worse ways to live." He sighed. "I would never change a thing. Not for all the magic in the world. That's what frightens me most."

Divine Knight Ámp:
Jonas looked around the clearing, where it seemed most of the party were either finishing up their meals or trying to sleep. Having finished his own meal, he drained the last of the whisky from his cup and attempted to do likewise. (Odd. After all the freaky things happening today, you'd figure I'd be too wired to go to sleep, but then, I honestly can't remember the last time I did... might as well get some rest while I can.) With this, he pulled his hat up over his face. He was asleep in minutes. The whisky probably had something to do with that.

As soon as he fell asleep, he began seeing things. This wasn't unusual; ever since he had stolen Masamune, he had had incredibly vivid dreams, although he could hardly ever remember what he had dreamed of when he awoke. Still, this one seemed... different than the others. Mostly his dreams were incoherent, showing him an endlessly different parade of strange, terrible things. This time, it looked as though he was remembering his life....

"Alright, Jonas, try it again."

A fifteen-year-old Jonas heaved himself up from the ground, trying to catch his breath. Sir Simon Elera, the Knight who had been assigned to his section as Armsmaster, grinned down at him with good-humoured contempt. "I know you're in hurry to go choke down your gruel, but you're not finished until you score against me at least once."

"Yes, Sir." (Idiot,) Jonas said mentally. (One of the finest Knights in recent history, and he expects a third-year trainee to be able to take him? Geez, he must be getting senile....) Sir Simon was nearing his sixtieth year, but you'd never be able to tell. He regularly beat the living daylights out of Knights decades younger than him at the yearly competitions. He was that good.

Jonas returned to the ready stance, holding his practice blade in front of him. If only the old bastard wasn't quite so fast, he might actually have a chance.... As he danced forward, the image of Sir Simon wrapped up in yards of thread formed in his head. (Hah. I wish he was wrapped up in thread, I might actually make it back to the barracks with time to clean up before dinner....) And then, suddenly, something seemed to go twang in his head. Sir Simon had been going into a defensive stance, but now stood absolutely still with a shocked look on his face.

As this registered in Jonas' mind, the stretching sound seemed to stop, and the Knight began moving again. He gave Jonas a strange look and said "I think that's enough for one day, young'un. Go get cleaned up, it's nearly time to go eat." As Jonas placed the practice sword on a nearby rack, he added, "And report to Father Jurden tomorrow morning at nine. I think he'll have something to talk to you about."

(Father Jurden? What does he have to do with me? He's one of the mage-student's instructors....) "Yes, Sir," he replied. As he left the salle, Jonas wondered what in the God's name he had just started.

The scene faded out, to be replaced by a blue mist that seemed to be drifting towards him. Out of the mist appeared a face that was nondescript with except for two things: one of its eyes was clearly fake, and the other glowed with a slate gray light- the color of Laoghaire. The apparition opened its mouth and spoke to him in a darkly humorous tone.

(What is your choice, Divine Knight?)

With the voice still ringing in his head, Jonas tumbled back down into consciousness.

(Huh?) He opened his eyes and placed his hat back on his head, squinting up at the sun. (I don't think I've been asleep more than... a few minutes? Surely not....) He was still disconcerted from his dream - no, vision. That voice still seemed to echo in his head, although he had no idea what it had meant. (What is my choice? What choice?!? God, I know you're probably not really happy with me, but I must ask, what is the purpose of this?) As usual, he didn't get an answer. (Well, I don't think I'll be getting back to sleep anytime soon... maybe I ought to ask the Bright One over there... she'd know....) On second thought, that didn't seem like a terribly good idea at this point. She really and truly did seem to be very put out with him at the moment. Well, he'd ask her later, perhaps.

Kathryn:
Fallenangel inclined her head to the Paladin Atalaya as she bowed and walked away. She sighed and stretched before standing and looking around for a place to rest. The sent of stew wafted to her from the campfire, reminding her that she hadn't eaten since before she arrived at the Midnight Sun.

:Hungry, dear one?: she sent to Isis.

:No, I hunted earlier. I'm settled - you may want to loose the four-foot to feed, however,: Isis replied before curling up for a catnap.

('Loose the four-foot,' huh? She may be right on that account, but I don't feel entirely comfortable with the idea of letting Donas loose here. This forest is strange - to say the least - and I am not overly fond of the emotional overtones of this campsite. I'd hate to find out what else it was used for....) Fallenangel whistled and her well-trained stallion raised his head, wearily trotting toward her. She stripped the saddle and saddle-bags from his back with practiced efficiency before dropping the horse's reins to allow him to graze. That done, she dug into the saddle-bag nearest her, unearthing a pear and apple that she proceeded to slice with her dagger.

She glanced up as each of the new arrivals wandered into the camp, but seeing that they were being met, dropped her attention back to her meal. She was beginning to feel rather uncomfortable here - she was a solitary person by nature, and the mark of Laoghaire's favour made her even more so. (Few people want to 'consort' with a Angel,) she thought with humour. (Even if she is no angel.) She restrained a giggle verging on hysterical. (Oh Lord, I need rest. I get altogether too reckless when I'm tired. And that sword turning up doesn't help matters. I have a feeling that there are no few even in this party who would love to get their hands on it. Oh well, I have the feeling that Sir Jonas isn't going to part with it, so that's one worry laid to rest for the time being.) Fallenangel shrugged, dismissing the matter.

She wiped her dagger clean and sheathed it, placing the cores of the apple and pear aside to take care of later. Leaning back against her rock, she closed her eyes and relaxed, letting the sun bathe her face. Suddenly, she felt Power moving nearby - power that she recognized. With a start, she sat up, glancing around for the source - or rather, the recipient. At that moment, the Knight Jonas sat up from where he had been sleeping. After an glance around, he laid back down, but Fallenangel was no longer paying attention.

(Lord,) she prayed, sending her thoughts directly to Him, (why have You granted him with a vision? He has stolen the Sword from Your Holy Church....) She trailed off, receiving no answer.

(This is too much,) Fallenangel thought, dropping her head into her hands wearily. (Laoghaire is so sparing about who He touches - and He just goes ahead and 'contacts' a... a... criminal!) She smiled, suddenly noticing the distinctly possessive tone of her mind-voice. (Okay, I'm tired and running on my last resources. A few minutes sleep should make me feel better - but first....)

She stood and walked over to where the Knight was. Looking down at him, she pulled her cloak closer about her shoulders and smiled.

"If you want to talk about it, let me know - after I've woken up, of course."

With that, she turned and walked back to where Isis was curled up. (I may as well be friendly,) she thought as she spread a blanket from her pack on the ground. (If My Lord has forgiven him, then so should I. Although I can't promise I'll still feel that way if he does anything else stupid - like try to run off with Masamune. I put too much effort into that piece of metal to loose it again....) With that thought, she fell into the bright depths of sleep. Yes, bright - how could a God-touched one's dreams be dark?

Typo:
When dreamless sleep finally settled over her mind, Erelan slept like one dead. She trusted her senses enough to know that the slightest sound of danger would pull her out of the deepest slumber and have her on her feet - or on the wing - and ready to fight in an instant. Still, now, in the presence of so many who fairly glimmered as creatures of Light, she slept innocently and almost unworriedly - like the child she was.

She did wake once or twice as people came and went, her eyes focusing for a moment on the black winged horse with its human boy, and the woman with her shaggy lupine companion. None of them looked familiar, but neither did any of them seem immediately threatening, and she was so tired.... Once, half asleep, she found herself looking out across the veritable army of people at a dark-haired boy who curled alone against a tree. She flexed her talons absently against the ground as a cat might, musing over her fellow travelers. The young man sitting on his own was handsome for his breed, the features speaking strongly of elven blood. Many around the campsite appeared to be half or part-blooded elves, and once again, she wondered if such pairings were commonplace in the Cold Lands. It seemed vaguely sad to her that it should be so - to produce children born of such tragic love... or no love at all.

She missed elves and the unquestioned rapport shared by dragons and their kindred elves at SeaCliffs. She missed the simplicity of her earliest learning, the companionship, understanding of her instinctive need to protect. She missed - home.

(Home - a far off place that forgot my name long ago. A world I don't belong to anymore)

Erelan sighed softly as she emerged from her dozing thoughts, blinking soft eyes and yawning once at the lengthening shadows of the day. She stretched her shoulders out and pulled herself up into a seated position, letting her eyes wander across the campsite once more. The boy by the tree was gone, and others seemed engaged by their business. She decided not to bother them. Ambling a short distance out to the road, she pushed off from the ground and spread her wings just above the tops of the trees. Tonight would be a fine night, she was sure - temperate and hopefully peaceful - and if they could manage to herd everyone in the split group back together, they actually stood a chance of reaching the Citadel with most of the party alive.

She drifted for a while over the tree tops, her shadow dancing and shattering across the leaves in the waning light, and wondered idly what had become of the unicorn Ynys in all the fuss. It really was too bad that there were so few fellow carnivores besides the humans in the camp. Erelan herself had no difficulty befriending grass-eaters and minor predators, but she had rarely found the sentiment returned outside the races traditionally friendly to dragon clans. In her experience, few people were willing or able to carry on a good conversation over the worry of becoming lunch.

(As if I'd knowingly eat a sentient,) she snorted. (Ah well... wasn't Ynys off to answer the mageflare? Perhaps I can at least scout for that group....) It was too far to scent for magic, but she extended her senses as far as her limited ability allowed, and searched hard for a hint of magework. After a long while, she sensed it, faint as a wisp of silk on the horizon. (Hmph. If I can see it at all, it must be spectacular. Good thing I knew what to look for, or I would never have seen it.) Gently wheeling on the light wind, she drifted to the left, taking her time. When the forest finally became too dense for her to see faint trails from the air, she dropped reluctantly to the ground, tucked her wings close against her sides, and peered through the deeper darkness of the tree-shadowed woods, looking for the best trail.

Raven Darkblade and Izzy:
(Gods help us,) Atalaya thought, seeing Solarin's face as he spoke and hearing the desperation in his voice. (This is not a good thing.) Getting up from where she'd been sitting, Atalaya began to pace. "Great. You could just tell her, take her to bed, and fix things," she suggested, distaste in her voice. "It'd hardly be the standards of our people, but...," a bitter chuckle. "You never cared much for those, did you, Solarin? Not even enough to inform the rest of us that you were leaving. Just ran off... but never mind."

Atalaya sighed as she resumed her place on the rock. "So just... gods, I don't know. You might as well tell her. Have as much fun as you can before she dies. I mean, there's nothing else you can do."

Solarin looked at her steadily. "You're wrong, Atalaya," he said, his face sealing over into a cool mask. "You're wrong."

Closing his eyes, he said nothing more.

Rainbow:
Rainbow glared at Jay as he groomed Jatoka under the shade of a tree in a small clearing next to the main one.

"Alright, what are you doing here?" she asked angrily as he turned around to face her. "Dee would know if anything was wrong at home - unless there's something major. If there was you'd have told me by now." She could feel Dee behind her and a cold rage echoed down the bond that they shared.

:Jatoka Mio'rel, how dare you come here!: Dee said haughtily, and Rainbow noticed a feeling of cool satisfaction as the black pegasus' head jerk in shock at Dee's icy tone.

"Rainbow!" Jay spoke in relief, smiling at her gently. "I hoped I'd find you! You stupid woman, running off like that!"

:Running off with full council backing, I might add.: The white pegasus stepped up next to the princess, staring the other human down.

Jay's liquid spaniel eyes looked at Rainbow, a mixture of pleasure and pain in their brown depths. "I was concerned for your safety, your Highness," he murmured, knowing that he was out-ranked. (Time to show some humility before she loses her notorious temper,) he thought nervously as he saw her posture and carriage. (She looks just about ready to). "I am glad you are safe, at any rate."

Dee faced Jatoka angrily; black and white stared at each other, and Rainbow could feel their animosity in the back of her mind. She looked at Jay, one eyebrow elegantly raised.

Jay nodded slightly, wondering what the pegasi were doing. Dee'rina hated being bossed around; Joka knew that, and Jay wondered why his friend kept arguing with her, and why he wouldn't accept that she had ideas and didn't need him following her around.

(Hypocrite,) Jay thought silently to himself. (I do that to Rain. But Rainbow needs someone looking out for her,) his mind argued back. (She's the Heir.)

(What will I do tonight?) he wondered silently, suddenly realising that in his haste to depart he had only packed a small lightweight canvas which wouldn't do for much longer. Rainbow seemed adamant that she would stay with this 'group' - (Whoever they are,) he thought - and that canvas wouldn't do for long expeditions. (I only wanted to find her and take her back!) he groaned in his mind. (Why is she so stubborn?) His trail rations weren't in good shape either. He had enough to get back to Animi - just. He had assumed Rainbow would have her own, and they'd reach Animi quickly. Unfortunately he didn't have enough for long trips.

Rainbow sighed. From looking at the stuff that Jatoka had carried, it seemed her stupid friend had forgotten long-triptents and lots of food for both him and the pegasus.

(He's got enough to get back to Animi on...,) she thought speculatively. (No, I might need him and I'm not that cruel.)

"You'll have to share with me tonight." She sighed, annoyed. She noticed with a certain amount of satisfaction that the blond head opposite her jerked up in shock as she spoke. (So, you were thinking about that were you?) she thought, mentally smiling like a cat which had just woken up from a long lazy nap in the summer sunlight.

"Your Majesty," Jay spoke nervously.

(Oh, damn,) she thought angrily. (He's going all formal on me!) "Jay!" she ordered, cutting him off sharply, "come on." Her tone relaxed and she smiled at him. "I haven't forgiven you for chasing after me, but stop being formal! You know how much I hate it!" She suddenly noticed an impish grin under a piece of hair which had obscured his face. "You, you... how dare you...!" she spluttered with laughter as he grinned even wider.

Suddenly they turned at a sound behind them. The whispers in the back of Rainbow's mind became louder and she could make out words.

:Jatoka... I am... up with... -ting superior!... am part of the roy-... -ouse of ... -asi, and I don't need... you telling me that I was stupid!: Dee's voice became louder and louder, and Rainbow winced away mentally from her mind-voice.

:Stop it!: she yelled to the two pegasi, who were still locked in eye-to-eye contact. She shielded carefully, so no-one but the combatants would hear her. She smiled wryly at Jay, hearing echoes down the soulmate bond between them that he had done the same.

The two pegasi jumped and turned as one to face their partners.

:Rain, I'm sorry...,: Dee whispered privately to her friend. :He said that I was irresponsible and....:

:Leave it, Dee,: Rainbow ordered silently, knowing Jay was telling his friend off as well.

"Jay?" she asked out loud, looking at him as he picked up a grooming brush and started to brush the sweat off the pegasus' hide in a gesture of peacemaking.

"What?" he said curtly. He was still unsure about how she felt about him coming to find her. (Alright, I have to admit it,) he told himself, (but only to myself of course - that sometimes my hormones and heart rule my head. This was not a very bright idea, Jay, to go searching for Rainbow; she's equal with you in most shielding magics, and can look after herself. Also she needs training; how's she going to get that with you around? Any mage would think you could train her!) He sighed. (Wish I could, but she needs war magics; you're a nature-mage, not a war- mage.)

"I've got spare blankets." Her voice jerked him back to the present. "And the tent'll fit both me and Dee in on rainy days, so it should fit both of us inside - if, of course, the pegasi don't mind sleeping outside."

:I don't mind,: Dee spoke to all, looking at Joka questioningly.

:Neither do I,: the black pegasi grudgingly spoke, giving the impression that he had folded his arms, and would do if he was human.

:Any way, if it rains I'll use the human spell.: Dee laughed at Jatoka's face. :You forgot I had that spell didn't you?:

Jatoka snorted arrogantly. :You'll have to teach it to me.:

:Maybe...,: Dee's mind-voice laughed, and Jatoka snorted and bucked in annoyance and arrogance.

Rainbow looked at Dee and Jatoka, and they both giggled like children.

"What about food?" Jay asked once they had recovered.

"We'll find some rations for you. I can smell food heating up," Rainbow told him, still smiling. "We'd best get the tent up. Dee? Shift into human will you dear, and give us a hand?"

Dee nodded and Rainbow set the shifting-spell going. When the pegasus was changed, she spoke softly in her human voice. "And you my dear partner, can carry the equipment."

"There were some people cooking when I got there," Jay said. "I've eaten, but I'll need food for any journey we go on." (Why am I saying that?) he groaned mentally. Jatoka snorted, but followed the three humans, or rather two humans, and one person with wing-like extrusions on her back, into the main clearing where everyone else was waking up.

Angie:
Shadowblade turned at the sound of Ynys' hooves and Dee's touchdown.

(Back and already bickering. I wonder if Dee'rina still remembers that the poor boy is still on her back,) she mused. (Probably not.) As the quartet turned to Rainbow's tent, the elf turned and collected the sick boy from the pegasus.

"Pardon me, mistress Dee'rina. But may I help...." She nodded towards the boy.

:His name is Darro.:

"...May I help Darro here?" :Thanks Ynys. See? I am learning manners!:

She leaned Darro's limp body on her shoulder and pulled him off the pegasus' back as Dee stooped a bit to aid in the transfer. Almost buckling under his deadweight, she half pulled and half dragged the unconscious Darro to the remnants of the camp-fire.

Ynys trotted behind her, grabbing the sachet of herbs that 'Blade had sectioned off from her main pouch to be used to cure Darro's pain.

:Here, I'll help to pour these into that pot over there.:

:Thank you Ynys.: 'Blade carefully lowered Darro onto the ground beside the fire. Peering into his eyes to check his condition and feeling his pulse, she felt it would be okay to feed him the mixture.

:Ynys, I'll keep an eye on him. Do you want to catch up on your sleep?: She glanced at the unicorn who was already beginning to nod off.

:Sure... sure.:

She felt a mental yawn from the unicorn and watched the retreating white form as the unicorn settled down beside 'Blade's tent and nodded off to sleep. Turning back to watch the still form of Darro, she sighed and wondered where the young healer was.

Adrienne:
The road did not look safe, and she had been hearing strange animal thoughts during her walk. Long before she had started carrying Ruvan. (I do not want anything like that beast-thing trying to eat Ruvan again.) The raven, "Mor" - he had answered when she'd asked his name - was circling above.

:How much farther?: she asked him.

:Around bend.:

(Good. Ruvan is getting hungry. I need to stop soon to feed him, but none of this area looks good. Once I get to the clearing where Dak is, I can return his sword and other things to him and feed Ruvan.) Aliaya idly played with Ruvan's curls. He began to pout as hunger caused pains in his belly.

It was none to soon before Aya reached the clearing. Once she'd sensed the number of people in the clearing hours ago, she'd retained shields to keep them out. She lingered at the "doorway" of the spires of granite and took a moment to watch everybody. Ruvan's hunger was momentarily forgotten as he took note of all the amazing things within the clearing. Aya was not surprised at any of the people she saw there, having noted from their own thoughts who was there. She scanned the group again and found Dak, eating by the great fire pit in the center of the clearing and chatting with a few of the other people - one of whom looking confused, as if Dak had turned the world up-side down on him.

At the sight of Dak, she caught her breath. Her memory had not been accurate with how beautiful he was. He was even more so now, having the appearance of one who had recently bathed, wearing clean, new clothing. Aya stepped into the clearing and strode directly toward Dak, ignoring the other people there for now. Automatically, she slipped into court mode.

"Good evening, my lord," she said quietly. "I am glad to see you well. I have brought for you your sword and other things you left behind this morning." She placed his sword before him. She did not offer him a pack because she had mixed everything up to make the two packs an even weight. Ruvan was reaching towards Dak with a large smile on his face, clearly expecting him to share his food. Both looked at Dak expectantly.

Axe:
:Irah morkara andi-ehva arwith
Lystranelari manita kyrith
Savoon bindari telari telan
Telestinikan kyrith na sevan

:Mora a' irah morah a' ir
Tendutendina kaledra K'tir
Fordraksendagin fanila b'ar
Lystranelari alarion tusar.

:Fordraksendagin wandatha tenil
Lystranelari oonala melil
Lystra se Fordraks kurakrith t'lgar
Lucen abodan kyrith nur renar...]


[Once there were Angels
who walked among men
keeping and serving
their young mortal kin

Then there came difference
and Angels abandoned
and birthed there were Demons
from pure Angel's hands

Demons made war then
and Angels fought back
Angel and Demon in struggle eternal
Mortal kin caught between light and infernal]

Like a child's nursery rhyme at a feverish pitch the words in ancient Mage Tongue burned in Xenon's mind, swirling and turning, roiling his sleep and darkening his soul. Long the words burned there, words half of which were used by the untrained mages of these younger days as Words of Power, and never known for their true meanings, no less in a meaningful and understood bit of elder verse. But Xenon Xerxes Zohar was no ordinary mortal mage and no ordinary scholar. The words had Meaning for him and they cut deep into his soul like icefire.

Finally, though, the words dimmed and his mind moved into a more restful sleep, a sleep in which he dreamed of a childhood not only long gone, but dimmed and dulled. This time, though, the clearing power of the elder verse cleared the years of forgetting and brought the memories back, like the fresh morning's dew of the day they were made.

:You should know, young Xenon, of the Power of the trees and Green things...,: droned Sala Tinithniel, the elder of the two apple tree wives to old Oridian Oakman, her familiar mindvoice a sweet brushing of leaves in Xenon's mind. He dangled his feet from his perch in her branch arms and listened to her crooning the words of knowledge into his mind and heart... and hoped he would never have to leave this peace....

Bright flashes of fire stroked the night sky as Xenon ran through the light misting rain to the edge of the river. He looked over to where his father's dock lay up against the stone wall of Applehame. He screamed a cry to the unlistening heavens as he saw the destruction of wall and buildings, the stone having run like the river's water in places from a heat so great it melted the most solid of stone. Xenon knew the Dragon who had done this, and he swore when he faced him next in the future he would blow him up from his own internal fires and consign his soul to a very small pebble in the most out of the way pit of Hades....

He stood on the scorched ground of his old home, a home he had returned to many times over the years, a home which was one of the only things he really loved. Small fires still glowed in places, and deep in the stone were places not yet cooled. Oldman Oakman and the Apple tree wives, the only real mothers he had ever known, were blackened and dead, little more than defiant and pitiful upthrusts of ashed branches, which were quickly being washed away as the mist became a downpour. The groves were also burned - in fact, the island had been methodically destroyed by torrential gouts of dragon's breath... and Xenon knew that dragon. Even his spite at Xenon would not have caused him to linger after all were dead so. Only the words of Medivh Savar had the power to so command this wyrm... and those words were surely the ones that had been spoken.

Upon Savar's head lay the death of not only Xenon's kind gentle father, but of all Xenon had ever loved.

"Oh gods of Dark and Light! Give me the power for revenge on this One and his Master!" Xenon cried into the rain. And the words fell to deaf or to no ears... as they always did when spoken to gods. No. There was one who could vengeance take for this and Xenon Xerxes Zohar was that one. Savar's fears of Xenon's growing power were not overrated, and Xenon knew much of Savar's methods if not his new plans. He stopped short of swearing then and there, though. Much could happen and change, and Xenon was fully aware of the power of oaths. Instead he would wait.... and serve his uncle the dish of vengeance oh so very very slowly... whenever it would hurt most....

Kang's gentle mind voice awakened Xenon from his sleep and he began to listen to Kang's report of what had occurred during the time Xenon had rested.

Dax:
Several people looked up as someone new entered the clearing, battle senses honed for danger, but the figure who entered the clearing was no danger; all could see that in a moment. Dakorillon was one of those who looked up from the fire and he recognized Aya right away, Ruvan in her arms. He caught her eyes as they passed over the assembly and lighted on him and smiled as her breath caught. (Its nice to be appreciated, hmm Dak? No one here seems to have noticed how wonderful you are.)

Aliaya strode over towards him, a familiar face among so many unknown.

"Good evening, my lord," she said quietly. "I am glad to see you well. I have brought for you, your sword and other things you left behind this morning." She placed his sword before him.

(Thank you Luck and Love! My sword! My packs! My harp!) Dak thought happily, reaching for his sword, having felt naked without it. The packs didn't seem big enough to hold everything, and he didn't see his saddle, but he could hardly fault her for that, after all she had found his sword. Ruvan had a big grin on his face and reached out chubby arms to him. Aya had a look in her eyes that said that she wanted to reach out to him too.

Sheathing his sword and putting the bowl he was eating from on a convenient log, he stood and took Ruvan into his arms and hugged him. Then, putting an arm around Aya's shoulders and giving a squeeze, he spoke to those awake and watching.

"Gentle persons, this is Aliaya, a gentlewoman of my acquaintance, and her delightful son, Ruvan of the Curly Locks and ever empty stomach." He smiled, first at the group and then at Aya and Ruvan in turn. Ruvan reached up and grabbed a lock of Dak's silver-blond hair, causing his wayward lock to fall across his left eye. After everyone's greeting, he escorted her to the rock he had vacated, and, placing Ruvan back in her arms, he took the packs and set them behind her.

(Nope, way too light. My harp wouldn't fit in these bags either.) His happiness at finding Aya and Ruvan well was only slightly dimmed by his losses. (Things can eventually be replaced, people can't be.)

Zeke, happy with his role of food provider, handed the new woman a bowl with some of the last bits of stew.

"There you are, my lady," he said with an approximation of an elven bow. "For you and your son. May I say that a finer, plumper child I have rarely seen? You may call me Zeke." He then took the hand that was circled around Ruvan and brought it to his lips, staring her in the eyes, want flicking forth from his, silky elven hair brushing the sensitive underside of her wrist.

He whispered, "And may I say that your hair is like the sunset and your eyes, cool green moss to lay my feverish desire on? After you quench your hunger, perhaps I could help you quench other hung...." The last ended on a yelp, as cold steel touched his throat.

Zeke looked up the length of steel to an arm clothed in silk, then on up into fire furious blue eyes.

"Lady Aliaya, is doubtless tired after her journey, friend elf. She is also shy among strangers, and might take your overtures of friendliness the wrong way." (How dare you say things like that to her.) Dak put his sword away in a smooth, practiced motion. "But you and I could go and share a drink, while she rests, eh?" So saying, he put an arm around Zeke's shoulders, having determined during their afternoon talks that Zeke was quite young and inexperienced in the ways of the mortal world, and led him towards the east side of the clearing, a look and smile over his shoulder at Aya to reassure her.

Angie:
(Seashimmer, Seashimmer where are you?) Shadowblade looked down at her patient, sleeping peacefully after sipping some of the tea. She looked up at the arrival of a woman, and the announcement of the new elf.

"Gentle persons, this is Aliaya, a gentlewoman of my acquaintance, and her delightful son, Ruvan of the Curly Locks and ever empty stomach", he smiled at the group and then (Aliaya) and Ruvan in turn.

(What's his name... Dak? Something that sounded like it. Well, I hope they pardon my not going to greet Aliaya and her son, but I have a patient to look after.)

She smoothed back the sweat-dampened hair on Darro's forehead. (I hope you can recover. From what Ynys said, you probably underwent some severe mental trauma. I do not dare enter your mind to find out, for fear of making it worse. I need a Healer....) She was kneeling beside the unconscious man, facing the clearing's opening, her back to the fire.

When Zeke came to collect some of the leftover stew still steaming in a bowl by the fire, Shadowblade knew, and when he got escorted by Dak for being overly friendly with Aliaya, she smiled to herself. It was painfully obvious what Aliaya and Ruvan meant to Dak. That elf-boy must be either very young, or very dense.

She sighed and sank back on the heels of her feet, preparing to get up and look for Seashimmer, the only qualified, true-blue Healer in this entire group. Taking a last glance to check if all was well, and that the small flames would not set any part of her patient on fire, she stood up and began her search.

Angie:
He sat alone in his room, facing the open window. His fingers were steepled under his chin as his eyes gazed into the dark night. They were coming. But there were always heroes coming. Heroes seeking to end a reign of power are now the skulls adorning the battlements. What made this group different from the others? The lone candle lighting his room flickered out when a gust of wind blew through the open window. He sat silent in the suddenly complete darkness, as if unaware of the lack of light.

His thoughts flew traitorously back into the past. His past. The two years of training that he had underwent under Savar's loving attention. Now he sneered at the boy he had been. And maybe even at the visions he had once had. But they were memories now, and memories could not hurt him... could they? His attention pried itself away from the hot irons of memory and turned itself once again into the night. The time was approaching, he knew. This band of heroes would come and storm the gates once more, but something would be different this time. Something....

He continued in his solitude on this loneliest of nights. For he was alone, and he would always be alone.

Adrienne:
Dak's smile warmed Aliaya's blood as she sat, sharing her bowl of stew with Ruvan, watching the backs of Dak and Zeke as they walked off, Dak speaking quietly to Zeke. While she was glad for the food, Ruvan snacking happily on his pieces of vegetables, Zeke's overtures had startled her. In court, people certainly thought such thoughts, but it was a rare occurrence that they thought them about her, and nobody would ever say those thoughts to her. Dak's reaction had surprised her, as well. It made her feel cared for and protected. She had not felt that way in a long time.

She continued to eat her meal and feed Ruvan extra bits. She reviewed the menagerie of sentients before her. First, she noticed the large black troll and his massive sheep. He nodded at her when she looked towards him. Next, she saw a dark-haired woman sleeping with a light-haired elf watching over her. Mor rested in a tree-branch above them. Aya knew instantly this was the woman bonded to Mor. Near them sat a female elf, a haughty air about her. And slightly off from them was another red-haired female elf, sleeping. An exotic human woman sat in a tree. She caught a glimpse of two adolescence glaring at each other through raging hormones. The black and white pegasi nearby marked them as being from Animi. An angel sat by herself, wearing an introspective expression. Aya briefly sent a wave of compassion towards the woman. Not far away, a man sat with an obnoxiously huge sword. Loathing welled up inside her. She quelled it once she realized its source was the King's Sword. She would investigate why such a reaction was elicited later. By the fire sat Dak and Zeke, and also a fairie, dozing with a knife and wood in her hands. Aliaya noted a silver-haired woman with a weird tattoo lingering near where a red-haired man Aya recognized as Xenon from Dak's mind slept, wrapped in the arms of a dark haired woman. Aya's attention was drawn to the man's belt. She Felt a familiar presence. Before she could delve any deeper, a woman striding towards the sleeping couple caught her eye. She seemed distressed. Aliaya lowered her shields to the woman and caught thoughts of needing a Healer for mind trauma for a man laying near the fire. A unicorn stood guard above him.

(A Healer for a mind,) Aya thought. (I can do that.) Aya placed her empty bowl near her packs. Ruvan had already wandered off to Dak, sitting beside him, trying valiantly, though unsuccessfully, to stay awake. Aya trusted Ruvan in Dak's care. A pat on Ruvan's head by Dak with a smile in her direction assured her of Dak's attention to Ruvan. Then, she intercepted the distressed woman before she could wake anyone.

Projecting a rationale of calm towards her, Aya spoke softly. "I overheard you need a Mind-Healer for that young man over there." Aliaya gestured towards the unconscious man. "I may be of some aid. I offer my assistance."

Angie and Adrienne:
Shadowblade stopped in her musings when the young woman that just joined the group approached her.

Projecting a rationale of calm towards her, Aliaya spoke softly. "I overheard you need a Mind-Healer for that young man, over there?" Aliaya gestured towards the unconscious man. "I may be of some aid. I offer my assistance."

'Blade sensed the calm that the woman was projecting. (Alright, I'll accept that calm, not that I'm all that frantic in the first place....) She turned to face the woman. "I accept your aid, dear Lady." (Better be polite... no knowing what Dak would do if I was rude to his lady.) Inclining her head at the human woman - (Boy, does Dak really want to wind up like Solarin...?) - she led her to Darro's inert body. "I know that he has a strong reaction to any mindtouch... that much I garnered from Rainbow before she got caught up with her fiancé." She touched Darro's forehead as she settled down cross-legged beside him, gesturing with her other hand for Aliaya to take a seat on the other side of Darro's body just between the fire and him.

Aliaya nodded as she took the information in. She settled on the other side of the young man and also touched his forehead. Immediately, she felt a torrential confusion and an extreme amount of pain, although it was physical pain the boy suffered from. She removed her hand and looked up at the elf.

"So." 'Blade looked up when she saw that Darro was still caught in his nightmares. She felt his pulse and was relieved that it was not too accelerated. No fever plagued him... yet. "Can you do anything about him? He's not suffering from any physical wound as far as I can tell. No blow to the head, no concussion, no clogged arteries that would result in hemorrhage." She shrugged. "This is way beyond my skills."

"He is in a state of confusion. I should be able to help him." Aliaya paused. "By the way, please call me Aliaya. And what shall I call you?"

"Yes, L... Aliaya. You may call me 'Blade,' though I have been called by less... polite names in the recent past." She smiled across to the nice child. (Good, my tongue was beginning to grow formal....)

"Just so you know, I am going to enter his mind. I'll be sitting very still, and it may not appear that I am breathing any more, but don't worry. Please keep him calm. He could wake up, depending on what I do. If he is awake and coherent, that is good. But if he is not coherent, that could be dangerous." Aliaya took a few deep breaths, then closed her eyes and reached out towards Darro again.

She took his hand into her own and placed her other hand on his forehead again. This time she traced a small figure with her thumb - an unnecessary motion, but one that eased her entrance into a foreign mind. The confusion returned and Aliaya took a moment to root herself firmly before entering his mind.

'Blade saw Aliaya sink into the Healing trance. She took one last test at Darro's pulse and then got up to prepare more tea. If the trance was long enough, Aliaya might even need some of that tea as well. She added more water and leaves to the tea still being heated, and sat down to wait.

Muranog:
:Newcomers approach, bondmate,: Sable Mindspoke her troll partner. In an instant, Muranog was fully alert, prepared for trouble, one hand half-reaching for the hilt of his runesword. As the human woman and her child entered the clearing, however, the troll Adept relaxed, seeing no immediate danger, and listened as the elf Dakorillon introduced the new arrivals. The woman looked around the clearing, her gaze passing over each member of the party in turn. As her eyes passed over Muranog and Sable, the troll nodded politely to her. Muranog noted that the lady, Aliaya, as Dakorillon had introduced her, looked somewhat the worse for travel. No doubt she had some interesting tale to tell, and the troll waited to hear it.

Raven Darkblade:
A sound behind her.

She pivoted, paring knife in hand, and met her partner's eyes defiantly. He absorbed the sight of her - blade-thin frame sheathed in lightless black clothing she should not have been allowed to have, holding a knife she should not have been able to hide, hands still smeared with blood. There was something happening, but it took a moment for comprehension to dawn on his face.

"Get out of my way, Devon." Her voice was low and cold in her throat. She couldn't stop now, certainly not for him.

He didn't move. "What are you doing?" he asked, though from the look on his face he already knew and didn't like it one bit.

She took a step. "I'm leaving. I won't stay here any longer. Get out of my way."

His posture shifted slightly, the balance of his weight changing. Preparing for a fight. "Don't do this. You can't get away, they'll kill you."

"They can try. Move, Devon. I don't want to have to kill you."

He shook his head. "Why? You're the best - why leave? You don't really think they'll punish you, do you? They'll probably promote you."

She stepped toward him again. "That's why. One last time, Devon - get out of my way."

He braced himself visibly. "No."

She leaped at him, small blade flashing. He jerked away once, twice, but she was faster, nimbler, tougher, and she tore his stomach open, pressed so close to him she could feel him begin to die.

"Gods damn you, Devon," she murmured roughly, shoving away.

A shaft of sunlight lanced though the small window, striking the boy whose entrails spilled out of the gaping wound in his abdomen. Dulling grey eyes sparked green, unruly brown hair flamed gold. Nausea and dread speared her. "Solarin - "

"I'm here, shayala." The voice echoed as though from a distance, even as the body at her feet and the tiny room around her ebbed into mist. "You are dreaming."

The knife fell from her shaking hands, dissolving as it fell. "Not you... not you too...."

"You're dreaming, shayala. Wake."

Raven sat up abruptly with a gasp. Solarin leaned over her, concern on his face.

"I'm sorry," he said contritely. "I wasn't paying attention...."

"Sorry?" she asked incredulously. "I kill you in a dream - I disembowel you - and you apologise?"

His mouth quirked slightly at the corner. "No," he corrected. "You killed a boy named Devon, and then you saw him as me."

Temper flared through her disorientation. "Don't analyze my damned nightmares."

Offering her a hand, he said mildly, "And why not? I believe it was one of your sages who first wrote about how dreams mirror one's inner turmoil."

She growled in exasperation, taking his hand and pulling herself to her feet. "How long have I slept?"

"Most of the day," he answered lightly. "There are a few hours yet until sunset."

"That long? Why didn't you wake me before?"

Shrugging, he said, "You needed rest. Besides, I had other concerns. You're awake now."

Raven shook loose hair out of her eyes. "Food?"

He smiled slightly, pleased. "Over by the fire. I believe there is still plenty left."

She spun on her heel without another word and heading towards the fire with a single-minded intensity that dared anyone to try and waylay her. Mor winged down from some perch in a tree, flying above and beside her.

Adrienne:
Aliaya entered Darro's mind. The "ground" heaved and moved, as if it didn't know quite where it was supposed to lie. It was dark everywhere - a stark contrast to the brightness of Ruvan's childmind, and even the normal light and dark areas of the normal adult human or elf mind.

She looked around, bombarded by a confusion not her own. Her first instinct was to radiate calm and allay the obvious fears floating about, but she also saw the pathways. They were torn and moved and removed. She had no idea what a wave of any emotion might do to the pathways.

Aliaya shielded herself against the confusion that nearly overwhelmed her, then set about healing. She found no way to distinguish her entry place from any other place. Carefully shielded as not to disturb the mind she was in, she thought, (Well, I'll have to do without it. I'll just use my own trace to myself to get back.) After another sight inspection, she decided to just begin her healing work.

First, she knelt on the "ground" and soothed it with her hands, willing it to settle. After a bit of concentration, it did as she told it. Tension flowed away and she saw that other pathways stopped convulsing as well. Aliaya started to walk down the pathway slowly, taking in all the images around her. Everything was fragmented. The "walls" moved constantly, apparently unsure of where they should stand. Aliaya had no way to determine where the "walls" should be either, not without some other guiding force. Since none seemed to exist, Aliaya decided to create her own.

She stopped walking to start her next work. First, she illuminated the area by thinking up brightness. From her own spirit, a luminescent globe appeared. The "walls" recessed from the light, as if it would destroy them. Then she called to memories, bright, childhood memories. They were slow to come, so she radiated a warmth and love that a child knows from his mother. Bits and pieces came to her. She gathered the fragments into her arms as if they were children and willed them whole. It took some time, but eventually, the memories were whole. More tension flowed away from the area, but she could feel that it built up someplace else. Finally, a small boy came up to her. This was the figure she had been expecting.

"What is your name, son?" she asked.

"Darro, ma'am."

"Can you tell me what happened here?"

The small child shook his head. "I don't recall. But I am glad the dark is gone away now. Will it come back?"

Aliaya smiled and patted the young Darro's head. "Not if you hold onto this light. You stay here and play in these happy thoughts of being young. I'm going to try to take the dark away."

Knowing that an outside force had to have caused all the damage she saw, she pulled the walls in close and placed a shield around them so that the memories could not be thrown to and fro again. Then she continued along on the pathway.

Before long, it reached a dead-end. (Now that's odd. Pathways don't dead-end unless they are hiding something traumatic.) She retraced her steps and found another pathway that looped leading off. This pathway lead to some of the boy's mind that controlled functions. This part of the mind had a fever to it. Parts of it oozed frothy blood. To aid Shadowblade's work on his body, she first put back together all the pieces that directed the basic functions of breathing, digestion, steady heart rhythm, and the excreting of waste. As she placed the last piece into the patchwork, an encompassing darkness overwhelmed her. As soon as she could, she re-illuminated the area with her globes.

And saw that all the work she had just done had been torn to pieces. She felt sick, from both the ugly evilness that had come and gone with the darkness, but also from the ruins in front of her. She reached for her trace, using it to restore her own calm and strength.

Once again, she pieced the basic functions back together. But this time she left the waste disposal unfinished. The parts that removed toxic blood waste she fixed, but she left all the rest in pieces. (Something does not want him to be able to heal himself,) she thought. (But whatever it is is here. I will make sure Darro will not die of poisoning of the body. But I will have to do something else to restore his mind.)

Aliaya recalled Darro's childhood memories of fairies mindspeaking to him. (It appears he had the gift to receive mindspeach that is unforced. That should be my next step in healing.) She searched for the pathway that would allow him to hear the mindspeach, but she could not find it anywhere. Along the way, she replaced and healed broken and fragmented memories. As she searched, she brightened the trail and realigned all the misdirected pathways she could. However, the farther into his mind she searched, the more convoluted everything became. Suddenly, a sturdy wall loomed before her. (This is not a natural part of this soul's mind.) She studied the wall, and realized that it connected with other barriers. (It is being held from the inside. It's likely that whatever caused the damage is hiding out in there.) At this point, all her work of steadying pathways and rebuilding memories and everything else had exhausted her. (It has been a long time since I've had to heal a mind, especially one in this condition.)

About that time, she felt a tug on her trace. (Time to return to myself.) She began her journey out of Darro's mind. On her way out, she caught sight of a figure. She started towards it, and as she came nearer, she realized it was not a figure but an image that was almost life-size. (I recognize the man of this image. Where have I seen him before?) she thought, staring up into green eyes set in an attractive face. (Oh, he is Xenon, the man who helped Dak. Perhaps he will help this poor young man.) A bit of relief renewed her spirits and strength, until a more urgent tug on her trace sent her stumbling. (Better get back. And I will ask Dak where this Xenon went off to so that I can ask for his aid.)

Just before leaving, she built, then re-enforced a shielding around all the pathways and memories she had fixed. Finally, she invoked the name of the god who Touched her, the god of the Mind, and gave a blessing. All at once, everything she had touched grew brighter, then subsided. (That should keep that accursed thing away from what I have done.) Satisfied, Aliaya left, returning to her own body. She opened in her eyes and looked up into a pair of concerned ones.

Typo:
The teal dragon grew bored with pushing through underbrush in short order. Even with her wings tucked tightly to her back, the low branches tugged at her, and brambles constantly seemed to become tangled about her legs. Frustrated finally, she stopped and unclasped her pack and twisted out of the straps, pulling the old leather carry-sack open with deft talons. She rummaged through the few boxes and padded lumps until she found the cloth-wrapped item she was searching for, and carefully unwrapped the protective scraps that bound it. A flat, diamond-shaped crystal of amethyst stone tumbled into her paws, and she held it up to catch the fading light of the low-hanging sun.

Good old uncle Aristide. He had made this crystal and the others for her years ago. Most were simply information storage devices, but several he had crafted to amplify her rather pitiful excuse for magic power to normal levels. From the shell, the magic-sensing and magic-shaping powers that were natural as breathing to most hatchlings were beyond her - had eluded her as fog fleeing the sun. She was flawed, obviously, but she was also a female, and fewer than one in twenty hatchlings were fertile, female and survived to adulthood, so she was tolerated. Her peers teased, but she ignored them, and as soon as she was able to leave the warm sands of the nesting beaches and wing awkwardly toward the sky, she sought her uncle's solitary workshop. She learned from him, a child at his side, and he infused her with a wonder of the world, and the wanderlust that had claimed him in his younger years. Still, even he had considered her woefully unprepared to face the world without magic, so Aristide, master craftsman, and had constructed these crystals for her, meaning for her to stay safely within the aeryie for the next several hundred years, promising to continue to work on his experiments and produce a set so small they could be embedded in her keelbone and serve as permanent prosthetics to enhance her powers. It was to be his present to her in celebration of her three-hundredth Hatching Day.

She was not known, in those days, for her patience. At scarcely one hundred years old, she was itching to explore the world, and as she grew older, the young drakes, hormones beginning to do more thinking for them, began to see the delicate young dragon less as an object of ridicule and more as a worthwhile prize, whatever her inadequacies. Still, she cared very little for the games of barter and currying favor that had to be played over arranging a betrothal, and spent more time alone, stretching her wings over the sea, exploring every hollow and hill for miles around SeaCliffs, growing stronger as she battled storms and swam to the depths of the ocean.

After one hundred forty years in the safety of SeaCliffs, nestled in the Warm County, she had packed a small satchel with the crystals he had given and a few trinkets of her own, and slipped away from her home. She did not say goodbye.

Settling back on her haunches now, she held the stone in both forepaws and gazed into the never-stilling depths, feeling the crystal amplifying and extending her sensing range. Unless a source of power was practically blazing before her, she could only Sense within about twenty feet on her own. She had once had nearly twice that range - still unsatisfactory, though better - but Tor's meddling had stripped all her weak abilities down to the barest levels. Still, some calm part of her accepted the way things were; she rarely relied on Othersenses beyond detecting blood-magic or demon-power in a nearby creature. She had learned ways around the lack, and she applied herself to the learning with a vengeance.

Scouting as far as she could, she found no trace of the mage-flare she had been following, though now she was close enough that any sort of battle or danger would have been apparent. There was nothing at all here - whatever danger had prompted the mage-flare in the first place was obviously gone. Erelan sat alone in the forest for a long moment as the sun began to slip below the horizon, then slowly returned to herself, looking almost wistfully into the crystal. Turning away without allowing herself another thought, she bundled the stone back into the protective wrapping and stored it with the rest of the treasures in her satchel. She was loathe to leave the forest just yet, as she clipped the pack securely across her breast and watched the shadows melt away from the trees and pool larger and larger across the ground. It was peaceful here and quiet. She had been fifteen years alone, and so many people all at once made her nervous. Here, though, all was silent, almost preternaturally still, and her thoughts swirled slowly around nothing, quiet and untroubled. At last, as the first star winked bright for a moment, then drowned in smothering clouds, she sighed and pushed off from the ground, winging slowly back toward the camp.

Dax:
Dakorillon looked up as Ruvan toddled over and patted his leg. He had just finished lecturing Zeke on etiquette with women, liberally spiced with long draws from a whiskey flask. (I think he's got the picture now. You are a diplomat extraordinaire, my boy. What are you doing wandering around all alone?) he thought as he picked up the curly headed boy. Ruvan just patted Dak's hair and solemnly stared at Zeke.

"They're very friendly, aren't they?" Zeke asked. It didn't seem as though the impling had crawled onto Dak to torture him. The child was just sitting peacefully, (how strange), Zeke remarked to himself.

:Not as strange as you seem to think, brother dear.: The sarcasm was all the more biting due to its long absence. :That is a human child. They tend to be quiet when they're not hungry, hurt or being brats. That one would make a particularly fine sacrifice. He has Power.: Zora finished.

:What would you care about a baby's sacrifice?: Zeke questioned, :If it's not a nearly grown male, and preferably a virgin, you don't even give them a second look!: Zeke was horrified that Zora might have decided to change her ways, and he was starting to enjoy watching the small human creature.

:I wouldn't,: Zora replied. :But, I think that this Medivh that everyone keeps talking about would. And they will be bringing it straight to his doorstep, a nice visitor's gift.:

:They wouldn't! The other's wouldn't let Savar do anything to hurt the child. The troll would certainly stop him, and the elves would, I think. These seem to be the kind of elves that the dark elves hate. And Dak here, he's pretty competent, at least in speech, and he is pretty fast with that blade, I don't think he will allow that either. He seems quite attached to both the woman and the child,: Zeke defended the baby, who was now standing on Dak's lap and patting the top of his head and jumping up and down.

:Perhaps if they could, but if the baby were to disappear... if they were attacked and it just got lost in the shuffle....: Zora was interrupted by Zeke's outburst.

:No!:

:Yes, it could bring us true freedom. Someone with Savar's power could find our soul-stone so that we could retrieve it. Once that is in our possession, we would be free from ever being summoned again. Wouldn't that be nice? To never be at the beck and call of a wizard again? To not be forced to do things that you felt were wrong? Do not be so hasty to throw away your own freedom for the sake of a human child that you don't even know, and that wouldn't care about you one whit.: Zora's tone was firm, yet persuasive.

(Could she be right?) Zeke wondered. (She is older and more experienced.) The thought of true freedom burned bright before him.

"I've got to go think about what you've said." Zeke looked up at Dak as he spoke.

"Hmm? Oh, yeah, sure," Dak smiled at Zeke, his bangs firmly in Ruvan's left hand, his right ear, firmly in Ruvan's right. It was this uncomfortable position that was occupying his attention for the moment.

Zeke stood and wandered toward the side of the clearing farthest from the troll, lost in inner turmoil.

It was a few hours later that Dak noticed that Aya still hadn't come to get Ruvan. Ruvan was giving him the hungry sign. That was the thieves sign that he had most recently taught him, along with "quiet". Ruvan was progressing fine. (He'll make a wonderful thief one day,) Dak thought proudly.

Dakorillon, stood, setting Ruvan down, taking his hand and walking him towards the campfire where he could see Aya with her hands on some man's head. She looked exhausted. He looked for someone to take care of Ruvan while he went to check on Aya, not wanting to leave him by the fire unsupervised. Looking around, he saw Xenon's armored form standing against one wall and hurried over. Dak knocked on the armor, which didn't ring as it ought to, and spoke.

"Xenon, would you mind watching Ruvan for a moment? I've got to go check on Aya."

Xenon's armor shifted, helmet and gloves flowing off strangely. Dak shuddered internally. (It always looks like its either eating him or throwing him up. I don't think I'll ever get used to that.) He looked at Xenon expectantly.

Xenon nodded his head and lifted the baby into the crook of his arm. Dak turned and headed over to the fire, making the sign for "quiet" before he headed out.

Aya had collapsed by the time he got over to her, and he lifted her head and cradled it on his lap. He stroked the hair from her face and sighed in relief when she opened tired eyes and looked into his own bright blue ones.

Muranog:
Muranog looked around the clearing while grooming Sable. The sun was beginning to set. Raven had woken after sleeping most of the day and most of the others seemed to be awake. The newcomer human, Lady Aliaya, seemed to have emerged from trance and finished her attempt at MindHealing the other young human newcomer.

:Perhaps now we can start moving on again?: Sable queried impatiently.

:I expect so, soon,: the troll mentally chuckled. :These are not trollkind, Sable. We must allow them some rest since they lack the stamina that we are used to. Some of them - Raven perhaps - might be able to ride all day and all night, but the others, probably not.:

:I suppose you're right, mindmate,: the war sheep snorted. The mental snort was accompanied by a verbal one. :Though your knowledge of humans and elves is limited to the old lore texts, you know more of them than I -,: the black war sheep stopped in mid-Mindspeech and stiffened beneath Muranog's grooming brush.

:Trouble?: the troll asked silently.

:Danger. Coming this way. Close,: Sable replied tersely as she projected what she had sensed to her troll partner's mind. In an instant Muranog was on his feet, sword suddenly in hand, its runes glowing faintly in the fading light.

"Danger, friends," the troll tersely explained as the others noticed his sudden increased alertness. "Sable's danger sense detects something. Close, and coming this way. We had best prepare for trouble."

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