Chapter 7 - Traversing the Wasteland

[Gralhruk]

The vast bulk of the Citadel rises behind the adventurers like a huge, granite behemoth, casting it's angular, mishapen shadow over them like a tattered blanket. The wasteland stretches out in all directions, hill upon hill of broken stone and gritty dust. They have in their possession food and water sufficient for the trip, along with a crudely drawn map of the destination: a point near the base of Erol's Peak, where the structure said to contain the Runestone lay.

What dangers guard the stone, neither Ysene nor Cadogan had been able to say, though they are certain it will be guarded. It dawns on the companions that they never thought to ask why it would be guarded, or so carefully placed to begin with. Looking back, it seems that the door they exited from has vanished, leaving little choice but to coninue on the path so recently chosen. They would find the Runestone and return it to Cadogan, then he would work with his magical compatriots, using the stone to destroy the Cube - an evil artifact which the blind wizard had found and returned to the Brotherhood.

The Citadel had been a strange place, and one that did not do very much to comfort those alien to it. Yet now, compared to the desolate lands around them, it is hard to imagine why they would choose to leave such seeming luxury. Of course, the place they were headed would probably make them long for the simple dangers of the wastelands. Relativity is like that, one must conclude.

[Black Plauge]

Things were moving quickly, a little too quickly for Blarth to follow everything that was happening. He's pretty sure they agreed to help the blind wizard find something, but what that something is and why its important are well beyond Blarth's ability to grasp.

They were, however, away from that strange place with its presumptious servants and Blarth, for one, was glad about that. Not knowing that things were going to be where you left them was disconcerting, even if they were taken to be cleaned or repaired. The wizrads had even been kind enough to take care of Trak's armor while Blarth helped out with this job so that he wouldn't have to carry it.

For the first time in several days Blarth is in high spirits and as the party heads towards their destination, Blarth takes advantage of the fact that he can move much faster than the heavily armored Cadrius to satisfy his curiosity and do a little exploring.

[Gralhruk]

Her lips compressed into a thin, disapproving line Shade eyes the arid waste around them and compares it to the relatively barren map the wizards had supplied. Blarth's retreating form further tightens her grimace; hadn't the half-orc learned anything from the near death experience he had only a couple of days ago in this very land? Never particularly garrulous, she doesn't bother warning him. Sometimes it was easier to let people figure things out on their own.

Her flinty gaze shifts sideways to Cadrius, notices that his blue eyes are riveted straight ahead - almost unfocused, as though he was absorbed by his thoughts instead of their surroundings. The line of her mouth narrows even more. Typical. Not that it mattered, she was more than wary enough for the rest of them. Before he notes her scrutiny, her eye roves onward to Ben.

She was curious about him, but that curiousity was as edged as everything else about her seemed to be. Why was he here? A warrior, in the citadel, randomly recruited to join them. It seemed odd, and Shade didn't like it when things seemed odd. Unconsciously, she loosens a blade in it's scabbard.

Nicos notes the sound and gives her a half-amused, inquiring look. She returns it with a flat stare, wondering why she is making such an effort to alienate everyone even as her anger bubbles slightly higher. Her feet hit the ground rather harder than normal for the next dozen paces or so, glancing once more at the map before tucking it away. It didn't matter; they'd get this runestone and then they could get out of here.

[itches]

Nicos is travelling quietly for a change, lost in contemplation and content to let the others lead. In their hurried departure, he barely had enough time to leave a cryptic note for Gemoud. 'Gone to borrow a cup of sugar from the neighbours. Be back soon.'

Well perhaps cryptic wasn't the word for it, maybe insensible was, he considered silently. Its purpose wasn't to pass on information about his task, just to inform that he hadn't run off without a word, a task that it performed admirable.

Continuing to muse in silent, the bard considers the implication of Gemoud being a Mooner. The Order of the moon wasn't a large organisation or an organised organisation either. It was just a small loosely allied band of bards with similar goals and basic means of getting in contact with each other. According to what he had been told when he had joined, the order had started when a bunch of bards had gathered together to exchange tales. At some point someone at pointed out that they all made a habit of poking their nose into other people's business for the same basic purposes. Then someone else noted how nice it would be if they had a way to work together. Several hours of drinking later, they had a system of symbols and code-words hammered out to identify each other, as well as a loose list of rules.

What bothered Nicos about the situation was that Gemoud wasn't a bard. When Saelyn had introduced him to the Order of the moon, she had described it as an organisation of bards, plus the handful that he had later met and worked with later had been bards. Gemoud however was a mage. Nicos by no means knew the organisation's secrets well enough to say for certain if there were non-bards or not, but the idea didn't seem too likely to him.

Putting the issue aside for the moment for the time being, the bard adjusts his pack on his shoulders and continues to walk in silence. Hearing Shade loosen one of her weapon, he shoots her an inquiring look. Getting a familiar glare back, he shrugs silently, content that if it was nothing more then paranoia something would have been said.

Unwilling for once to risk an argument, the bard adverts his gaze, instead resting it upon the back of their new companion, Ben. His presence so far was an enigma, and while Nicos remembered seeing him a couple of times, he knew next to nothing about the strange warrior. Making a mental note to strike a conversation soon, returns his attention inward, contemplating the mission, his companions, and his life of late.

[Cadrius]

The open sky, along with all of the wilderness's dangers, is a welcome sight to Cadrius. Having to guard one's words is tiring. Being polite is one matter, but having to speak in code and doubletalk is a thing the fallen paladin has no skill for. He isn't even certain how it is they managed to make their way out of the Citadel without angering the other faction. In retrospect, he doesn't particularly care. They've escaped from the magical conveniences and web of sorcerous intrigue. It might only be borrowed time; the opposing residents are bound to learn of their plans. Yet it feels good to be outside all the same.

He hears the soft, but familiar, scrape of Shade's swords. They weren't drawn fully. No, she loosens them when she's angry or worried, as is her wont. What could trouble her, besides the potentially angry spellcasters, the monsters likely roaming the nearby wilderness, or the stranger named Ben, is beyond him.

"How far to the Stone?" he asks, keeping his eyes on the horizon.

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben placed his wide-brimmed hat back on his head to help protect himself from the sun that was just beginning to warm the surrounding land. He'd never been one of the best morning persons, so he had intended to get a decent breakfast before leaving the citadel.

The wizards had had other ideas. So here he was with the warrior Cadrius, that half-orc and one-armed bard, and a woman he didn't recognize. Brought together to look for a stone that would enable the wizards to destroy a cube capable of unleashing a demon on the world.

Ben shuddered at that thought. His friends had told him of their only experience with a demon, of it could convince rational men to perform terrible deeds, and the terrible cost the company had paid to stop its plans from reaching fruitation. Ben had never really asked exactly what those plans were, but he got the feeling that the group had never really understood exactly what the plan was supposed to do either.

So he'd agreed to find this runestone, to keep such a terrible presence out of the world. It was the least he could do for them after they'd given him a room and food for the night. Besides, he'd been the one who-

He rubbed his eyes at that. Best not to think of such things right now, Ben thought to himself. They didn't know exactly what they would face when they got there, but it probably wasn't going to be orcs or goblins or any of the other foes he was used to fighting. And he didn't know very much about his newfound "companions" either. He knew most of them only from last night at the table, and he only knew Cadruis' name.

That half-orc fellow was getting ahead of the rest of them. Ben didn't really know much about him, but he figured he must be the scout in this group. It was probably best to get moving fairly soon though.

He glanced back at the unknown woman who held the map that that female wizard had given them, and then returned his gaze to the receding half-orc scout.

[Gralhruk]

She slows her pace until the others catch up, chewing on Cadrius' question. The answer, like everything else, wasn't exactly simple.

"I'm not sure. As the crow flies, the place lies perhaps 3 days northwest of here. Our route is going to be a little longer, and depending on the terrain, even longer than that. We'll head west until we reach what looks to be a dry riverbed, then follow that north until we hit the foothills of the mountains. Then west again along the chain until we reach the high peak called Erol. I suppose we'll know it when we see it."

She shifts the pack on her back, heavier now that it is laden with food for the trip. They should be able to refill their water in the foothills and once again at the place where the Runestone was said to be interred.

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben looks over at the mountains that can be seen rising above the horizon. They are only silhouette at this time in the morning, but many of them appear to be craggy spires of rock, impossible to climb except by the most rugged -- and some might say insane -- individuals.

None of them stood out to Ben as a tower or stronghold in which a magical stone capable of unlocking the key to a Demon's prison might lay. Not that he expected one to. He closed his eyes and tried to mentally picture the route the woman had described.

"Sounds like a trip of 5 days minimum to me," Ben mumbles to himself. "Maybe more, if we're waylaid by whatever it is that lives out here." Not much out here in the way of food, so I suspect we would look to be quite the delicious targets to a pack of starving monsters.

"That is, if anything does live out here."

[itches]

The majority of the day is spent in silence, the surrounding desolation and the unknown danger of their mission conspiring to cast a pall of silence over the group. In the silence, they make cover a good amount of ground. As the sun starts to drop toward the horizon, the group discover a sheltered dell off the side of the road. Out of sight, away from the wind, and if push came to shove, more defensible then camping in a clearing.

Though all are seasoned travellers, the party members are foot sore and tired from the day's march and glad for the opportunity to rest. As the sun sets and the first of the night's chill settles onto the land, the group gather in their makeshift camp.

[Gralhruk]

The tumbled ring of stones is as good a spot as they are likely to find. At least it blocked some of the wind, which would be positively numbing once the sun departed. They weren't being pursued, so a fire seemed likely to keep more critters at bay than it would attract. Shade goes about building one, noting that Cadrius is becoming more adept at camping in the wild.

Before she can even broach the subject, Nicos announces he'll be cooking dinner. She is skeptical of his skill, but the bard makes a great show of combining food and herbs in an almost dazzling spectacle. Dinner is passable, and at the very least, hot enough to warm their bellies for some time afterward.

Almost immediately after they have finished eating, even before watches have been discussed or decided, Shade focuses on Ben.

"The rest of us have travelled together for a time, and so know something of one another. You don't have that benefit. I'll start by telling you something of myself, and then perhaps we can all do the same. I like to know who I'm travelling with."

The veil is down now, as it has been for most of the day, showing the thin, white scar that runs beneath her eyes. Her steel grey eyes are harder than the tone of her voice.

"I used to thieve for a guild in Darnell, a large city many leagues south of this place. It wasn't the life for me, although it beat starving to death. There was a falling out, and I went north, eventually coming to Karkas and resolving some unfinished business. Since then, I've been trying to figure out what to do, but trouble keeps finding me."

It isn't much, but more than the others are used to hearing from her. She folds her arms and waits for someone else to speak, her eyes still on Ben.

[itches]

Washing down the meal with water from his water-skin, Nicos lets his eyes switch between Shade, Ben and back again. It was obvious that Shade didn't trust the new comer, but by the same mark she didn't appear to be overly distrustful either - those few sentences were the most the bard had ever heard about the woman's past.

As good an idea as sharing histories to build trust is, the last thing Nicos wants is for Ben to feel overly set upon. Clearing his throat, the bard draws attention towards him.

"Well, as long as we're sharing juicy pieces of gossip about our past, I think I'll join in. I used to be a monk, a member of the Brotherhood of the Raven’s Claw. An overly ponderous name if you ask me, though they never did. When I lost my arm, it became clear that the life of a monk wasn't suited to me, nor I to it. The option to become a travelling performer became available, and I took it."

[Black Plauge]

Nicos's cooking was certianly edible, if not as tasteful as what the citadel had had to offer, and Blarth consumed it with a gusto.

Staring at the stars, Blarth doesn't even notice the conversation going on around him.

[Cadrius]

The warm food is a comfort against the cool autumn air. He isn't used to this climate, in a place where gnarled, scragglily trees eek out an existance. Still, a hot meal does wonders to fortify one against the elements. If only they had some ale or whisky as well.

He raises an eyebrow while Shade summarizes her tale. Had she told him she used to belong to a guild? He didn't think so. Then again, she didn't relate what her unfinished business were. Perhaps the murder of a dwarf isn't best brought up, not to acquaintances.

Cadrius draws his blade and whetstone and methodically sharpens the edges. The shhhrk-shhhrk fills in the gaps in conversation. When it comes his turn, Cadrius doesn't look up, and keeps running the stone along the blade.

"I was in the military and now I am not. I also may, or may not," --he smiles softly-- "have run afoul of a certain priest along the way. I met Shade during my first stay in Karkas. Blarth and Nicos came later."

It's a story, if only barely. Then again, why complicate things with a tale of woe and self-pity regarding murder and a fall from grace? Looking around at his companions, he wonders how many have done the same. Shade? He has a hard time ever imagining her being innocent, or at least pure enough to fall. For all her qualities, she seems to have been permanently hardened by the world. That alone causes a twinge of sorrow within the former paladin. Blarth? Innocent, certainly, but perhaps too much. The half-orc is too simple, and likely hasn't killed, not outside of combat. And Nicos? Cadrius imagines it's rather hard to murder someone when they have two arms and you only one. Still, out of the three, the bard is the most likely to have fallen. Perhaps his life as a monk was more complicated than he leads them to believe.

Turning his eyes to Ben, Cadrius awaits the man's story.

[red_dr4g0n94]

It wasn't much different from what Ben had used to do really. Never really spending more than a few days in any one place, walking from destination to destination. The wide-brimed hat on his head protecting him from the worst of the sun, and once again his close were covered in the dust of the trail.

It wasn't the first time he'd had travelling companions either. He'd often traveled with -- and protected -- a caravan or some other group in return for food and temporary shelter. This was the first time he had ever traveled with other adventurers, or toward someplace that wasn't a city or town though. So it was that he found himself agreeing when the woman suggested they share a little bit of themselves.

He listened as the others revealed a little about themselves. The woman spoke of being part of a theives guild at one point, but leaving after some sort of disagreement apparently. The one-armed man stated that he was a monk in a Monastary until the loss of his arm made him rethink his life. Cadrius said he was part of the military and running afoul of a priest, though that was hardly odd. There were plenty of priests out there serving evil dieities who caused a great deal of trouble. The half-orc remained strangely quite.

They'd each spoke of at least a bit of their past. Ben didn't doubt that there were some things about their past they weren't telling. Everyone had something they'd rather keep to themselves. It was his turn to tell something now though. He poked the fire with a stick as he stared into its crackling depths. Then he spoke.

"I was a street urchin for a time, before I joined up with a mercanary group. I traveled with them, and they raised me to be part of their group, but I never really got the chance." He paused for a bit, but then pressed onward. "A little around 8 years ago, they were all killed in a forest after finishing a job for a nearby village. I was the only survivor out of a group of nearly two dozen seasoned adventurers. That happened far to the Southeast from here though, and I've been traveling ever since."

No real need to tell them why he'd been traveling. Still, if knowing who what one was traveling with was the goal of this little chit chat...

He looks up at the woman with the scar on her face. "So what are your names anyhow? I know his name's Cadrius," he gestures at the man sharpening his blade. "But I don't think I was formally introduced to the rest of you. Or, if I was I don't really remember it."

[Gralhruk]

Her grey gaze doesn't waver from Ben's blue one, her scrutiny undiminished by his short tale. When Paladin had joined them she had every reason to be uneasy. With Ben she had none of those reasons but the unease was still there.

"Shade. You can call me Shade. Everyone else does. The quiet one is Blarth, the not so quiet one is Nicos."

She folds her arms, frowning.

"You must have been pretty lucky to escape. Mercenaries tend to be a tough bunch, and eight years ago you couldn't have been more than . . . what . . . sixteen?"

[red_dr4g0n94]

Shade, Nicos, and Blarth. Not the most flamboyant names he'd had ever heard, but then again there was a decided lack of Elves present. Probably just as well, Ben's experience with Elves had been more annoying than productive for the most part.

Shade's comment caught him a little off guard though. He looked back at the campfire, not responding immediately. He wondered for a bit if he should just ignore the statement. But no, it was harmless enough, more of an observation than a question.

"Fifteen actually. As far as being lucky goes..." He trailed off, silent memories coming forward in his mind unheeded. But he beat them back to the farthest parts of his mind, where unpleasant memories were buried and forgotten. Or, were tried to be forgotten.

Giving a little sigh, he looked back at those steel gray eyes. "Sometimes the worst punishment one can receive is to be the survivor when all the rest of your friends have died."

[Gralhruk]

Shade shrugs slightly, her narrow shoulders making the gesture lithely reminiscent of a lioness stretching before the hunt. It wasn't fun to outlive your friends - unless they were trying to kill you, that is. Of course, Ricard was still alive.

The bastard.

"Loss is a lesson we all learn, one way or another. The good news is it means you're still alive. How did it happen?"

[red_dr4g0n94]

Loss is a lesson huh? That was one way of lessening the pain, Ben supposed. It wasn't all that accurate in his eye. Loss happened to lots of people who didn't deserve it. The sons and daughters he'd met, to tell them their mother or father was never coming home, had probably never deserved it. The parents, who would never be able to see their son or daughter again, had probably not deserved it. If loss was a lesson, it was a lesson that was all too often not deserved.

Shade probably didn't want to hear that though, his opinion on loss, else she would have asked for it. No, she wanted to know about the loss of his companions, how he alone had gotten away from the slaughter. She probably suspected he had sold them out to enemy forces or something. Ben wondered how close to the truth she was.

"How did it happen?" he repeated the question like it was a matter of course. He fell onto his back and a small puff of dust flew into the air. He gazed up at the stars, just starting to twinkle into existence with the sun disappearing behind the mountains, before answering. "It probably happened like you think it would have happened," he pulled his hat off his head before continuing. "It happened with a fight."

With that, he put his hat over his face.

[Cadrius]

He shoots Shade a warning glance, unseen by Ben's hat-covered eyes. He can't exactly fault Ben for being unwilling to disclose each and every detail, but to tell them that there was a fight and that his entire company was slain without explanation is a tale that cannot be ignored. It isn't that Ben supposes the rest of the mercenaries were slain, it's that he knows they were. The complete certainty of his knowledge puts Cadrius ill at ease.

"If what you say is true, those numbers of that skill, it would have taken quite the foe, or foes, to wipe them out. Yet you survived. Was it through strength of arms? Speed? Or simple luck? There is no shame in the last two.
If you are to travel with us, Ben, I would know more."

[red_dr4g0n94]

Should I tell them? Would it really be so bad to tell them the truth? To get this lie off of my shoulders. Would it really be so bad to tell the whole story?

Yes.

But apparently they weren't going to take his dodgy answer lying down. He couldn't blame them really. They didn't know much about him, or why he had been thrust into their little group with little in the way of explanation. Ben sort of wished he knew himself, but that didn't change the fact that their own stories had been just as scant on detail as his.

That got his blood boiling a bit. What gave them the right to interrogate him, when they had told him so little themselves? Granted they weren't asking much. Just a simple question really, how he alone had gotten out alive when so many others who deserved to live didn't.

Several more seconds pass after Cadrius asks his question. Finally, Ben takes the hat off of his head. He looks up at the stars once more, so familiar and yet so alien in their own world, ignorant of the problems of those they twinkled down on. Then he spoke, never actually rising to meet their eyes that he could feel on him, just watching the stars.

"Strength of arms I suppose. I had to fight to survive, but I wasn't the target, not really. Whoever caused it all must've known I was not a great threat to them. It always happened at night, and the attacker retreated, only to return the next night. I never saw who it was; Hell, all I recall are the faces of my friends as they fell, one by one. At the end of it all, only I remained to continue on in the land of the living."

He let that sink in a bit. Ben, for his part, wondered how he was able to recall the event without bursting into tears. He had at first, and so many times thereafter. But, after a while, the emotions attached with the memory had...lessened. He still felt them, but they were dull reminders at best, ghost-pains at worst. Maybe in time they would disappear all together. Ben didn't think so, but one could never tell with these things.

"I'll take second watch."

The words break the momentary silence, and Ben places the hat back over his head as he finishes the small statement. Closing his eyes, he tries to find in the blackness of his sleep what he cannot find in his conscience.

[Gralhruk]

Shade blinks once when Cadrius meets her eyes; she senses the warning there and her head dips ever so slightly in the smallest of nods. Wariness creeps up and slowly overtakes the anger that burns beneath the stillness of her face. As she waits for Ben's response, arms folded beneath her cloak, her hands slowly drop until they rest comfortably on the hilts of her swords.

Her brow creases slightly as Ben speaks, but she does not relax at all. His grief was plain but his story does little to ease her tension, nor does it answer the question of why he was still alive when other -presumably more competent- warriors had perished. Very nearly does she let anger and fear get the better of her; harsh words are already forming in her mind, the desire to expose and remove any threat vibrantly alive.

She bottles it back up; maybe because she is uncertain, maybe because he seems genuine, or maybe because she can see a glimmer of what he must have gone through. Her eyes meet Cadrius' once again. If he was telling the truth.

"I'll take first watch then. Cadrius, tag along with me while I mark a perimeter? We don't know what else is out here."

[itches]

Listening to the tale Ben weaves; Nicos quietly considers its implications. Lost in his silent contemplation, it takes the bard several long moments to respond to Shade's declaration of taking first watch.

"Actually Shade, it might be a better idea if I," he says looking up to see Shade and Cadrius already beyond the range of his low voice. "Damnit."

Pulling himself to his feat, Nicos quickly jogs after the pair.

[Cadrius]

Shade sees the danger too, and Cadrius supposes he shouldn't be surprised by that fact. The woman has an uncanny ability to feel out the potential harm in any given situation. Then again, a deaf man could likely hear the danger in Ben's story. He gives a quick nod and shoulders his shield.

"A wise plan. I would know our surroundings as well," he says, brushing some errant dirt from his breeches. He fetches a brand and nods to the bard."Nicos, watch the fire, would you?"

He casts another look over his shoulder and sees the bard looking down at something. Cadrius shakes his head; the man only listens when he wants to hear what's being said. Turning back he sees Shade has faded just far enough to honor her namesake. In the growing dark he can barely make out her sillouette, but it's there all the same, a lithe shadow amidst a wasteland of black.

They move away from the fire in silence, unwilling to break it, unwilling to risk Ben hearing their thoughts. She must want to speak of his story. No other option enters his mind.

Drawing a slow breath, Cadrius exhales, watching the plume of steam billow forth and dissapate into the chill autumn air. It's cold up here, colder than he's used to. A blanket will serve him well tonight.

Or a warm body. The thought startles him, a rogue emotion amidst a disciplined order of duty and melancholy. Cadrius wills it away. There will be enough time to dwell on such foolishness when there isn't a risk of being murdered while sleeping.

"Something is not right, obviously. He spoke plainly enough, I would think, but what would take a handful of well-trained mercenaries each night but leave a boy alone? Some sort of monster that refuses to prey on the innocent? Or does Ben bear a dark secret like us?"

The crunch of feet across earth and stone sets Cadrius's heart racing. Had they been discovered? Had Ben just overheard the suspicions?

Nicos walks out of the dark. Cadrius rolls his eyes. If Ben was asleep that meant Blarth was tending the fire. Cadrius reconsiders his apprehension; the half-orc likely has more sense than Nicos ever will.

"Yes? What is it?"

[Gralhruk]

As usual, Shade doesn't wait to see if Cadrius listens to her. She is already well away from the group when she hears his footsteps approaching. Her steps slow slightly, waiting for him to join her, one hand pulling her new veil across the lower half of her face. When he speaks, his sentiment is not unexpected; the very same suspicions had run through her mind. Hidden, her mouth frowns at his choice of words.

A dark secret like us.

Her mind flashes back to a dark stain on the floor of a tavern in Karkas, where a dwarf had spilled his life's blood. The blade that had opened his throat was at her side still. Cadrius had witnessed the murder and though he had never offered an opinion on it, she knew he had never forgotten it. Before she can sort out her feelings and respond Nicos appears. For a change, she is relieved, having wanted to ask him along but fearing that the three of them convening would appear suspicious.

"I would guess he knows that I wanted to talk to you privately, and that he knows what about. Ben. His story is far from complete, as anyone who tells stories for a living would know.

"The real question on my mind is why is he here?"

[itches]

"Actually there are two reasons I'm here."

Holding up a finger, Nicos looks from one to the other.

"First, I don't think you should take a watch tonight Shade. I'm not trying to step on your pride, but you still don't look 100%, and would benefit from a full night's sleep more then any of us."

Lowering the first finger, Nicos holds up another.

"Second, Ben. Obviously you sensed he wasn't telling us everything about his friends' deaths. He didn't appear to be lying, but to be blunt; I've heard whore's promises that sounded more likely. It sounds like he blames himself for their deaths, maybe because he fell asleep on watch, ran away, maybe he was giving their potion away. I don't know, but I don't like that he was left alive."

Taking a deep breath and making sure that none of the others had followed him, Nicos looks tired from the day's march.

"The killings could have been a vendetta against the others and not him, an assassin. Maybe he was allowed to live because the killer had a use for him still, or maybe he just got lucky and is still being tracked. Or maybe he is the killer, I just don't know."

Giving the pair in front of him a grin, Nicos continues.

"The one thing that bothers me about all of this isn't why Ben is here, but why none of the mages came with us. There were a lot of people at that citadel, and even one or two of them would have been a help. Instead they send us out a former mercenary? The pair of you have a greater sense of mistrust then I do, what do you think?"

[Gralhruk]

Shade's mouth twitches slightly at the implication that she isn't fit for guard duty but she holds her tongue. The fight with the giant and the subsequent scamble to the Citadel had taken a toll on her. She wasn't about to admit any weakness to anyone but she decides to avoid fighting over it now.

"I think that I trust him no more than I do one of those stinking wizards. Cadogan should have come with us."

[Cadrius]

"I do not like it," he says, folding his arms over his chest, "I intend to take my watch with Ben. That would leave you and Blarth for the other two. You, at the least, have enough suspicion to keep a watchful eye on Ben should he rise. Blarth...Blarth is too trusting."

Yet Cadrius cedes the bard's other point; the lack of a member from the citadel is disturbing. True, they were given some direction, but the least one would expect an apprentice to accompany them if for no other reason than to verify their success. Cadrius doesn't like the sound of this either.

"It is either too dangerous to risk their own...or they wish us to fail and die in the process."

He pauses for a moment and casts a gaze at Shade, "I am beginning to regret accepting this task."

[Gralhruk]

Shade frowns.

"If they wanted us dead they could have done it at the Citadel. I think they want us to succeed. Or at least, Cadogan does. But there is something else going on, I just don't know what."

She shakes her head then rests a hand lightly on a sword hilt. Her eyes find Nicos.

"You take the second watch. I'll pull the last one with Blarth. That gives me a good unbroken sleep and it will give me some peace of mind, which is what I need."

[itches]

Nodding at the plan, Nicos doesn't appear completely pleased with the plan, but he doesn't raise any further objections.

"Okay, then first watch is mine. Cadrius, I'll wake you before I wake Ben, in case you don't want him to know that you're awake."

Taking a look around at what little of the unremarkable terrain is visible in the starlight; the bard nods again and takes a step backwards.

"We'll I’ll head back to camp and leave you two at it, don't stay out here too long or there would be little point in me taking first watch."

With out another word, Nicos turns and walks swiftly towards camp.

[Gralhruk]

Shade swallows the acid rejoinder that automatically perched on the tip of her tongue. She was fairly sure that the bard enjoyed her discomfiture and like with so many other things, she wasn't about to give him what he wanted. Her eyes stay on Cadrius, wondering if he really meant what he said or if it even mattered. She had a feeling that it didn't, and that even if he thought continuing was the worst idea ever spawned in heaven or hell he still wouldn't change his mind about it.

And I am beginning to regret ever going to the Citadel.

All for Cadogan, who's only thanks had been to send them on a dangerous quest and keep them in the dark. Cadogan hadn't seemed like that. Shade would have thought the blind man would have put himself in danger before his comrades. Maybe his bond with wizards was greater than his bond with them.

"Loyalty is a very damning mistress, isn't she? All manner of foolishness is performed for her; vows broken, morals cast aside . . . people killed. All for something so nebulous as her favor. It is the very best quality to have in someone else, and one of the very worst qualities to possess yourself."

[Cadrius]

Cadrius does what he does best when faced with Shade's acrid tongue: he frowns. It isn't quite an open scowl, no, but it might as well be for the dour man. Part of him ruefully acknowledges her words, hearing the truth and pragmatism in them. The other part, the smaller part, rails against it with every fiber. Outwardly he looks displeased by her remarks, inside he's a maelstrom of conflicting emotions.

"Right."

It's neither an acknowledgment nor a condemnation. In fact it's the only word he can think to use. He swallows hard and nods in the vague direction of their camp.

"We should return before Blarth comes looking for us."

Not waiting for a response, Cadrius cuts back through the dark, torch in hand, and toward the remnants of the fire. It's burned a little lower now with dinner over. The fallen paladin shivers a little; it'll be cold tonight. Ben sleeps, or looks to be, and Blarth is prodding the fire with a stick. Cadrius smiles and takes a seat next to the coals.

"It is going to get colder."

[Gralhruk]

Her eyes ride above the horizon of her veil like silvery twin moons, shining in the reflected light of the torch. His obvious anger stabs her deeply, twisting painfully in the coiled mass of her emotions before it is burningly yanked out. Before she can sort out the reasons he is on his way back toward camp, the light from the torch quickly leaving her in darkness. Shade's head bows, slim hands press her forehead then run through her short black hair.

* * *

Shade saunters into camp a minute or two after Cadrius and unobtrusively settles down, as far from the others as the little ring of stones allows. Positioning her back to a rock and her feet toward the fire, she adjusts the heavy silk cloak to trap the heat. Beneath this canopy, she unbuckles her weapons and removes her boots. Resting her head on her pack she settles onto her side, one unscabbarded blade hidden beneath the makeshift pillow. She listens surreptiously to the sounds of her companions at the fire, her face turned away from them. Her clear grey eyes remain open for a long while.

[itches]

The night passed slowly. The watches were long, cold, boring and the speculation of betrayal turned out to have been for naught.

Nicos spent his watch looking up at the clear sky's stars, thinking about the past, and making circles of the camp to ensure nothing was creeping up in the dark.

The others did similar things and it such it was when the sun finally rose above the horizon, bathing the lands in light and the promise that a new day holds.

Breakfast was quickly eaten, as the party shook off the last remnants of sleep. Kicking the fire out, packing up their gear, and settling into a marching order, they set out for the day's march before the sun has been up for more then an hour.

[Black Plauge]

A night under the stars will do wonders for a body and the excess energy from being cooped up inside the citadel that Blarth had yesterday is gone. Today he sticks close to the group, letting Shade pull her regular scouting duties.

In fact, Blarth spends most of the morning hanging at the back of the group and looking over his shoulder. Unable to shake the feeling that he is being watched, Blarth keeps looking for the person doing the watching but can't seem to find them. Who ever is watching always seems to be dancing in his periphrial vision, but whenever Blarth turns to look, nothing is there. Unsure whether to believe his own gut, Blarth keeps quiet, merely stoping to look periodically before turning back to catch up with the others.

[Gralhruk]

The sun is bright but even as the morning passes the air remains cold. The waste around them seems desolate, but Shade notes the fingers of life that scrabble for purchase despite the harsh conditions. The cold, stark land mirrors the emotions that fill her this morning.

As is her wont she scouts ahead, as much to keep an eye out for trouble as to familiarize herself with the land and it's inhabitants. It also grants her time alone, which is probably for the best. By the time midday rolls around, she is less volatile, feeling merely grim rather than angry. She calls a halt and breaks out some rations for lunch, taking a swallow of water and surveying the land ahead from a small rise.

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben had never been talkative, even during his days with the company. The time inbetween then and the present had made it so he was even less of a conversationalist. Besides, he seldom talked during travel, choosing instead to conserve his energy for the march ahead and anything that might happen requiring and instand response, such as an ambush.

That woman was in the lead now, with the half-orc, Blarth, back among the rest of them today. What was her name again? It had something do with darkness, Shadow or something like that. The half-orc had not spoken at all last night during their conversation.

Ben snorted at that thought. Conversation. Right, interrogation was a more accurate description of the talking done last night. He doubted they trusted him, and why should they?. No one else did, not even himself, so they had little reason too. But they hadn't left him sleeping at the camp that morning either, so maybe he was just being paranoid. Or they just needed another strong arm in this little quest of theirs. The latter was more likely, but the former was still a possibility.

Shadow woman called a halt to their little precession. Ben ate some of the rations in his own pack, taking a swig from his waterskin before sitting down for a brief rest. He wasn't tired, not nearly, but that didn't mean it would do him any good to go ahead and tire himself out.

Shadow moved onto a small hill nearby, and Ben decided to let her be. Of the whole lot, Ben figured from those cool grey eyes that she trusted him the least. Ben instead looked over at the other three members of the group, wondering why they had been at the Citadel. He looked down at his feet, his mind lost in thought as he mechanically ate his meager rations.

Then a gust of wind blew past, carrying on it something that caught Ben's attention. He raised his head suddenly, alert awareness taking over, straining his ears to identify what it was that he had heard.

Throughout his years of training with Rocky and the others, he had lost interest with most of the skills he had learned as a street urchin, forgeting most of them over time. But Rocky had stressed that a warrior was always aware of his surroundings, that the best method available to humans to learn everything one could about events happening around yourself was simply to listen to those events.

So Ben had kept his hearing in practice, learning to analyze noises seperatly from each other, like he had as a child making sure no one followed him down the alleyway or to a certain secret hideaway. So it was now that he removed the noise of the wind rushing past his ear and heard...something that was out of place.

"Did anyone else hear that," Ben asked as he stood and looked around the group's impromptu resting spot, trying to find what had caused the noise. He couldn't tell what or where it had come from, but it had been carried on the breeze so it could be several dozen yards away or just a few feet away from him. But it had been something that alerted him, there was no doubt about that in Ben's mind.

[Black Plauge]

His senses already on the alert because of the strange feeling he's been having all morning, Blarth hears clearly what Ben only catches a glimmer of: the sound of a small scree shifting under the weight of someone (or something) crossing it.

Nodding in answer to Ben's question, Blarth picks up a small stone and throws it at the ground near Shade. When she practically glares at him, Blarth merely points to his ear and then in the general direction of the sound.

[itches]

At Ben's question, the Bard dropped the tune he had been humming to an almost inaudible level and glanced around searching for whatever had alerted the man, Nicos failed to see or hear anything hiding nearby not that this fact came as surprising, the one-armed-man had never been partially adapt in the wild.

His hand drifting towards the dagger on his belt, Nicos waited; content to let his companions take the initiative.

[Gralhruk]

She is looking without really seeing, mulling over the possibilities that the next few days will bring. Shade could tell Ben wasn't comfortable around them, the way he kept to himself, the way he looked at them. That was fine with her. Better he be wary, especially of her, then for him to think they were all as dense as Blarth.

A small stone skitters at her feet, tossed from the direction of the others. Her steel grey eyes sluice toward them, promising pain for someone. That someone happens to be Blarth, and as he points off to his left she freezes, much as most of the rest of the group seems to have done. After only a heartbeat she hears it: an unsteady crunching, as of someone lurching uphill across the loose earth. Moving as silently as an owl in flight, she makes her way across the small hill so she can peer down through the scree. What she sees sends adrenalaine ringing through her wiry frame.

The thing is tall, half again as tall as Cadrius, with gaunt limbs and huge clawed hands. Its shuffling gait is unsteady, but it is clearly moving towards their camp with purpose. She moves quickly to the others, her voice a harsh whisper.

"Troll, and it's coming for us."

[Black Plauge]

Grimacing at the mention of a troll, Blarth regrets that they had elected to have a cold lunch.

There had been a gang of trolls in the mountians near his village as a child. Every family had the responsibility to always keep a fire burning in case of attack. He could still remember the time when he had let the fire go out. It had been one of his first overnight vigils to keep the fire burning alone. Rebellious to an extreme, he had ignored his father's advice to rest during the day and had fallen asleep during the night. When his father woke him in the morning there had been hell to pay for letting the fire die. It would be almost a year before he was trusted again to maintain the fire by himself.

Shaking his head clear of the memory, Blarth casts about for some wood, maybe there was still time... but no, the sounds of the approaching troll were no longer a faint whisper. There was no time to gather wood and light a fire. Loosing his club from his belt, Blarth prepares to face the troll the hard way.

[itches]

When he heard the word 'Troll', Nicos' mind immediately summoned up the tales he had heard of such creatures. All of the tales held one thing in common; trolls were exceedingly hard to kill.

As the bard opened his mouth to suggest abandoning the camp before the beast arrived, the troll burst forth through the shrubbery that had hidden its approach. Its beady eyes peered at the gathered companions, as if deciding contemptuously which one it would slay first. A growl rose from deep in its chest, removing beyond a shadow of a doubt whether it intended to attack or flee.

Taking advantage of the momentary lull before combat, Nicos' hand grasped the haft of the dagger on his belt, with a speed and surety that only comes from experience, drew it and sent it spinning toward the towering monster. The dagger buried itself in the troll's belly, but the creature merely grunted and pulled the offending weapon out, casting it aside as if it were merely an annoying twig. The wound the blade created had already started to knit close.

"Ah crap."

[Cadrius]

Trolls. He'd learned something about them as a page, and later a squire, but any knowledge of tactics has fled his mind. His cheeks flush with heat as his body anticipates the fight. The bastard sword rings as it's freed from its prison on his back. Cadrius readies his shield and hopes that the smith in Karkas knew was he was doing. The long nails and fangs of the troll could rend flesh as easily as any knife.

Nicos reacts quickly, hurling a blade into the troll's midsection. On a normal man it would be a serious, if not mortal, wound, but the troll pulls the dagger out as easily as a Cadrius would a thorn. The blood flows but a few seconds before staunching. By the time Cadrius moves, the wound has closed. The fallen paladin sidesteps his way so that he's between the troll and his companions.

"Come on, then," he calls to the beast, waving his sword ever so slightly. It offers a toothy grimace, but Cadrius figures it must pass for a grin in the troll world.

[red_dr4g0n94]

Troll. Ben frowned at the word, recognizing it but not really able to attribute it to anything about the creature. He did remember something about nasty claws but nothing else came to mind.

Still, Ben didn't think it had come to share lunch with them. Well, maybe it did, but that was hardly comforting when Ben pictured what was on the menu. Quick as the blink of an eye, Ben reached down to his side and grabbing the hilt of his sword. Giving a quick jerk, the leather strap holding it to his belt snapped open and the sword was in his hand. But even as he grabbed his sword, his other hand reached behind him for his shield, which obviously wasn't there since it was on the back of his pack that was lying on the ground next to him.

Cursing himself for not grabbing it when he heard the noise, he bent down to grabb his shield just as a dagger from Nicos flew over him into the stomach of the monster. Grabbing the handle for the shield, Ben pulled it off his pack and looked up in time to see the wound knit shut on the troll's stomach.

Realizing this wasn't going to be easy, Ben moved forward, coming up beside Cadrius just as he threw his taunt at the much larger creature. Ben swallowed, gulping down a retort concerning the wisdom of such a move along with his apprehension at facing such a being.

The awful creature grinned at the taunt. Even if it couldn't understand what it's meal was saying, the movement of his sword made it all to clear. That grin, full of teeth and malice, held the scene still for a brief second, freezing everything in the minds of those present in a perfect, clear picture of the calm before the storm.

Then the creature rushed forward with its shuffling gait, letting out a growling roar before he came to the two warriors. The large and apparently ungainly beast moved deceptively fast, and Ben barely had time to duck behind his shield after seeing a claw heading for him. But the attack to him was a feint. He wasn't the real target.

Trolls weren't exactly known for their intelligence, but they had enough sense to recognize someone clad in a lot of armor and someone who wasn't. That didn't necessarily mean they realized that attacking them first with others around wasn't the best of moves, but the trolls claws made the point moot.

The claw Ben had thought would be heading for him rushed instead for Cadrius. The fallen paladin put his shield up just in time, blocking the apparent attack with the edge of his shield, only to see the troll's other arm come in toward his torso. He twisted to dodge the attack, but it had the opposite affect of making the damage far worse worse. Instead of simply clawing down his shoulder, the beast tore down the man's chest, even reaching his stomach.

Three long, jagged lines now appeared on Cadrius' once immaculate armor. Three long lines, only starting to turn a crimson red, now appeared on the man's chest and stomach.

[OOC: 20 points of damage to Cadrius]

[Black Plauge]

Blarth moves in to take the heat off Cadrius. No one person could hope to take the heat of the trolls claws for long and Blarth wasn't about to let it aim another blow like the first in Cadrius' direction.

Lining himself up oppisite Ben, Blarth pounds the troll with his club, putting every ounce of strength in his being behind the blow. An effort which pays off in at least one way, he certianly got the troll's attention. The beast's shoulder, however, rapidly pops back into place, as the signs of the blows damage fade to mere bruises.

[OOC: 42 damage to the Troll.]

[Gralhruk]

A body in motion tends to stay in motion . . .

Shade stood frozen as the troll approached, the horror something like fascination as it shrugged off wounds that should have killed it, the rubbery skin already beginning to mend. As Cadrius is struck she feels a part of herself sink in his pain, fear gripping her heart with the crushing weight of death. Blarth's staggering blow finally snaps the bonds that hold her motionless.

She rushes forward in a swirl of silk and steel, dodging the beasts long reach with reckless grace, never slowing her approach. Her first thrust is true, the blade driving deep into it's hide. The backhand she launches is intercepted as the thing twists towards her, and the sword glances off without drawing blood.

<OOC: Move to flank the beast, one hit for 14 damage.>

[itches]

Seeing his companions engage the beast, Nicos sets himself to finding a permanent solution. The same tales which tell how hard it is to kill a troll, also say it is possible. Two weapons are prescribed to battle them, acid or fire.

Rushing to small patch of dead leaves, in a tiny furrow, Nicos's hands are already making arcane movements, as he softly chants something in elvish. Kneeling beside the leaves, the bard holds out his hand and begins to light a fire.

[Cadrius]

The troll's claws, sharp as any dagger, tear into a weak spot in Cadrius's armor. Finding purchase in the chain and leather at the shoulder, they curl underneath the protective steel and rip into the fallen paladin's flesh. Cadrius emits a half-scream, half-groan, and wrenches his torso away. Battlelust is upon him, dulling the pain, but the wound still burns fiercely.

He retaliates, bringing his guard back into line and scores a minor gash on the beast's thick hide.

((OOC: 8 damage))

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben wondered at the troll's reasons for attacking. It had never really stood a chance of defeating them, five versus one were hardly fair odds. It might have been able to get one of them, but the rest would still pummel it into a pulp. He couldn't believe the stupidity the creature had shown, attacking them by itself.

Even as the thought entered his brain though, he thrust his sword at the beast. The blade almost seemed to hum as it sliced through the air, the blade digging into the creature's chest with a hunger it felt like. As soon as he pulled the sword out though, the wound was healing. Apparently it had been enough though, for as it slid out the thing gave out a terrible moan and fell forward. The heavy body hit the ground with a loud thud, its just barely missing Ben.

He grimaced as the creature's awful smell hit him full blast. Interesting how you could ignore such things even when you were face-to-face but fighting for your life. He noted that the creature's shoulder still made some popping sounds from where that half-orc had hit it. And how the troll had spilt no blood on the ground from its wounds.

"Is it dead," Ben asked, unsure if the creature's odd regeneration would continue even though it had been subdued. He hoped it was, glancing over at Cadrius who had taken the only blow from the creature's horrible claws.

[Black Plauge]

As the creature falls to the ground, Blarth continues to pound it with his club, raining blow after blow on the still form.

"Its not dead," he says between blows, "only unconcious... It can't be killed... through sheer force.... Light a fire... It needs to be burned..."

[Gralhruk]

Shade dances away nimbly as the troll topples earthward, fists white on the hilts of her blades as Ben steps back. Her steely eyes rake over Nicos, the bard busily kindling exactly what the half-orc ordered. Blood pounded through her body in time with the blows from Blarth's club, the adrenalaine from the fight still surging through her.

Death

It was her only thought. She rotates, eyes like slits, scanning the surroundings for something else to fight, to kill. There is nothing. Muscles taut like a loaded crossbow, her body howls for a reason to pull the trigger. A slight tremor runs down her arm from the strain, and then she slams the blades back in their sheaths.

She spins on her heel and stalks to the top of the rise, looking for any others. As she turns back, she sees Cadrius, obviously in serious pain. Had she forgotten? For a moment, the thought stabs at her heart and then she steels it against the onslaught. She moves towards Nicos, breaking off branches as she goes.

"Go. Cadrius is hurt. I'll finish this."

[itches]

Nodding to Shade, Nicos abandons the fire to her care to make his way over to Cadrius. Tapping Ben on the shoulder, the bard motions for the man to follow him. Stopping out of sword range of the former Paladin, Nicos eyes the blood oozing from the shoulder.

"Cadrius," he says. "I can help with the wound."

[Cadrius]

Cadrius pants, his breath coming heavily and the blood pounding in his ears. He doesn't hear Nicos, not at first, and instead stands still, facing the fallen troll. It isn't until the bard moves within sight that the battlelust begins to fade and he remembers his wound. The fallen paladin sheaths his sword within the earth and slides one hand under the pauldrons, finding the path the troll took to get under his breastplate. It comes away crimson.

"Yes," he says, feeling detached from the dimly aching wound, "it will need seeing to."

Methodically he begins removing his armor as he's done so many times before: helm and avenplate, gauntlets, rerebraces, elbowguards, vambraces, breastplate, backplate, skirts. Within a few minutes only his legs are armored, and a bright red stain mars the underclothing by his shoulder. He stands still while the bard takes one of his knives and cuts some of the cloth away, exposing the wound.

"Make certain none of it is inside," he says gravely, recalling what happens to a man whose clothing remains in the body after a wound has healed.

[itches]

Looking at the wound, Nicos’ breath caught in his throat. Rather then a single messy gash, he is faced 1 messy gash, and 2 ugly but not as dangerous looking ones. Together all three were conspiring to pump out more blood then the bard would have preferred, but not as much as if a vein or artery had been severed. Luck, the gods, or his armour had saved the man’s life, but only barely. A little deeper and it would have taken the attention of a Cleric, or skilled surgeon to save his life, neither of which Nicos was. Washing the blood out of the way with a liberal amount of water, Nicos braced himself for what he had to do. It would be ugly, and painful – almost as much to himself as to Cadrius.

Handing his blade over to Ben, the man quickly issues out a set of instructions.

"Take this blade to the fire Shade is cooking, and heat it until it's red-hot. And tell her to hurry up; I'm going to need more help here."

Turning back to Cadrius, Nicos pulls out his flask, and takes a swig before handing it over to the former paladin, and looking him in the eyes.

"Cadrius," he begins. "My options are limited out here, but I need to stop the wound from bleeding, and I need to do it now. This is going to hurt, it's going to hurt a lot, but you still have a choice. You can remain awake for what is about to happen, or you can be unconscious. I can't decide for you; either path is going to be harsh, so it's up to you."

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben takes the bard's dagger and nods when he was told to take it over and heat the blade. He realized the bard's intent, and quickly turned to jog over to the small fire that the woman was building. He caught the bard's question to the other warrior but not the answer.

He glanced over at where Blarth was still pummeling the troll with his club, the blows inflicted by the massive weapon smashing the creature's bones constantly. But the constant snapping and popping noises from the body showed that his blows were futile at killing the beast, just as the half-orc had claimed.

Hopefully he can keep the thing down until the fire is ready.

The thought passed through Ben's mind as he came upon Shade's position. He moved around the small furrow so he wouldn't get in her way and hunched down. Without looking up at her he put the small weapon into the fire, waiting anxiously for the blade to turn red with the heat from the flame. Time was precious, the other warrior could easily bleed to death from his wounds.

[Cadrius]

Cadrius swayed on his feet watching Ben take the dagger to the fire. The wound was deep, he could feel it pulsing with his heart, and it would need fire to tend it properly. There would be pain. Much pain. Yet there is little else to be done. They lack a healer, and his one-armed nursemaid, while possessing noble intentions, will not manage with bandages alone. He gives Nicos a weary look.

"Find me some leather and any wine or ale if you have it. I will...be over there." He nods at several rocks jutting out of the earth like fingers. The fallen paladin gives Nicos a weak smile. "And see if you can get Blarth and Ben to come with you. I do not want you to be harmed."

[itches]

Nodding, Nicos fishes out the flask from his belt pouch, and hands it over. Standing, the bard hesitates and softly comments, "I doubt it makes it any better, but I know what it feels like."

Leaving the man to mentally prepare himself, Nicos walks over to Shade and Ben.

[Shadowfane]

A mile west of the party, a slight figure makes its way swiftly over the scree, heading east. Violet eyes scan the ground, then the surroundings, then the ground again, ceaselessly searching for clues, tracks, indications of life. Hands clutch convulsively over the hilts of a matched pair of blades, a longsword and a shorter, narrower, sword.

Surayon bites back her fury. She has been tracking her latest prey for two days now, following week old tracks the bandit made as he headed straight for the hills. Overlaying the tracks are fresher, bigger tracks, the tracks of a much more imposing creature; a troll, maybe, or an ogre. It is at most a quarter hour ahead, maybe even less. This development could delay her vengeance, maybe even prevent her from accomplishing it.

A darker part of her mind whispers inside, find it, kill it, it will hinder our goal, it may take our prize, it cannot be allowed to interfere with our quest...
She forces the voice down, trying to find some measure of calm. The creature could hinder her goal, simply by forcing her to divert around it. Maybe she should at least track it back to its lair...

A roar erupts from just ahead. Drawing an arrow and nocking it in one motion, she races forward, her thoughts torn between fear, anticipation and a sudden flare of excitement. Whatever the reason, whatever the cause, she was involved now.

[Gralhruk]

Shade works with her characteristic efficient fury and shortly the small fire is a blaze of heat and flame. She pulls a flask of oil from her pack and douses the still writhing troll, avoiding Blarth and his pounding club. With a flaming brand, she sets the thing alight, shielding her eyes from the smoke.

[red_dr4g0n94]

While he was waiting for the blade to heat up sufficiently, Ben observed the woman turning the small fire into a roaring flame. Then she quickly moved over to finish the troll off. Ben returned to watching the blade slowly heat up, agonizingly slowly. He wonderd if the smoke of the fire might alert any companions the troll had of their companions fate, but he couldn't be sure. He didn't know anything about trolls, so he couldn't even guess if they would travel in groups.

Ben looked up as Nicos came over, then returned his gaze to the small weapon. At least the bard knew what to do in this situation. Ben knew they needed to stop the bleeding, but he'd never been any good at medicinal tasks. Without looking back up he asked, "So what do you need to me do after the blade heats up?"

[Shadowfane]

A column of black smoke boils upwards from the rise just ahead, causing Surayon to check her headlong rush forward. Although she wasn't the most knowledgeable person about trolls, she did know that fire was the only reliable way to destroy one. Since trolls were hardly likely to assist in their own demise, that meant someone else was down there. Someone either skillful enough or numerous enough to take down a troll. But who else could be out here?...



Her face stiffens, her mouth twisting into a snarl. Maybe another party of bandits, waiting here for their friend to return. Her fury rises to almost uncontollable levels before she can force it down again, her hand white around the grip of her bow. Nothing is certain, the identity of whatever lies over the rise can only be determined through seeing for herself, but no more blindly rushing forwards.



Keeping the arrow nocked and ready to draw at a moment's notice, Surayon ghosts forward, using all her training and knowledge to move silently, working her way round the rise to look into the hollow. Whatever she thinks she will she, it isn't anything like what she expected.



To one side is the burning corpse of a troll, the popping sounds of burning fat occasionally audible over the crackling fire. Standing over the troll is a slim figure, shrouded in a cloak, a man with a club standing by her. Nearer the middle of the clearing is a human, clearly in some pain, elven eyes spotting the wounds across his torso and shoulder. Two more figures are next to a fire, one kneeling in front of it, the other standing, his shape somehow different to the others, something missing....

Surayon shakes her head slightly, no matter, but what to do? Are these more of the people who destroyed my home? Why are they here? Why now? The arrow point shifts from figure to figure as she desperately tries to decide what to do

[itches]

"Hold him down." Nicos replies grimly.

Looking at the dagger, buried deep within the flame, the bard mentally braces himself for what is about to happen.

"Come on, that should be hot enough. If we wait too long Cadrius is going to loose too much blood."

Walking back towards the lone figure that is Cadrius, Nicos stops to succinctly explain the situation to Blarth.

"Blarth, I'm going to need to cauterise Cadrius' wound, and I'm going to need your help to hold him still."

[Black Plauge]

Tired from the level of exertion he put into the all too brief encounter with the troll, Blarth merely nods at Nicos' request and accompanies him to Cadrius' side.

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben didn't react to the bard's answer. It was what he'd been expecting. Doing what they were about to do was something you only did if no other choice was available. And even if Cadrius meant well, he knew the man couldn't just lie there and take it, nor could Ben in the same situation.

The bard's right, the blade's heated enough. He pulls the knife out of the fire and, careful not to let the blade touch himself, straightens himself out. He moves over to where Cadrius is while Nicos goes to get the half-orc.

He walks over to the outcropping of rocks where the other warrior is. He doesn't try to keep the now red-blade of the knife hidden. The other man knew what was going on, and Ben didn't feel any shame at being the one to bring it.

"You holding on alright," he asks the other warrior.

[Shadowfane]

Surayon watches from her concealment, noting the man moving over to the injured human with a blade that now glowed red-hot from the heat of the fire. Realising what is about to happen, she winces - this isn't going to be pretty, or pleasant, she well knows what happens to flesh when it is burned or seared.

Looking at the other human, she suddenly realises that that sense of something missing is caused by him missing an arm. Her rage subsides, replaced by confusion. The men she is on the trail of suffer no such injuries that she knows of, at least, not yet... a voice in her mind whispers. Indeed, from the little she has seen of them while stalking them, they look down on such people, sneering and insulting them. If a member of this group has one of those injuries, they were unlikely to be part of the group that destroyed her home, her life. In an agony of indecision, she recalls a saying her father once told her, "Courtesy costs nothing". So be it, father, you teach me even now... She hunkers down into her cover, deciding that she will go down to the group, but not until after the red-hot blade has done its work - distraction at this point would only be harmful.

[Cadrius]

Cadrius slumps against the rocks, holding the now-empty wineskin in one hand. A few crimson drops, of wine and not blood, hang on his chin, caught within the two days growth there. The drink burns within him, momentarily distracting him from the pulsing in his shoulder. Even now blood eeks its way through the fresh wound, staining his underclothes and the ground beneath him.

He sees Ben approach, but his eyes are focused on the heated blade in his hand. The metal glows red and orange. There will be pain. He steels his resolve, ordering his mind to control his body. The words of his old Master-At-Arms spring unbidden into his mind. "Discipline beats talent every time." He wonders how that might aid him now.

"I will be fine," he says, taking the dagger's sheath, laying on the ground nearby, and wedging it tightly between his teeth. Nicos gives him a questioning look, taking the blade from Ben. Cadrius draws a deep breath and nods.

The half-orc and former mercenary kneel by Cadrius, helping him lay flat on the ground. They each take hold of an arm and place weight upon his chest. Each is quite strong, and Cadrius doubts he could best them both, not even at his strongest. Now he feels little better than a mewling kitten.

Nicos steps closer and Cadrius can begin to feel the heat rolling off of the blade. He's never cared for fire, and is now greatful that he was not born into a smith's family.

Discipline. I shall not scream. It will hurt little more than a scratch. Discpline. There will be--

Pain. With a quick motion the bard lays the blade against the wound, searing the lacerations closed. Cadrius' draws in a sharp breath and then screams; the sheath partially dampens the cry. All of his training, his pride, his supposed discipline, is burned out in one moment. Nothing remains save agony and the all-consuming fire emanating from the dagger. Cadrius dimly recognizes the sickly smell of burning flesh.

He finds new strength amidst the blinding pain and rocks against Blarth and Ben, raising himself a foot off the ground before the two redouble their efforts and firmly hold him down. Cadrius thrashes his legs ineffectually, his body seeking a way to escape the burning. His back arches before being forced back down again.

His work done, Nicos steps away from the three men but is clipped by one of the fallen paladin's flailing kicks. The bard stumbles away just as Cadrius slumps, losing consciousness.

[itches]

Taking the red hot blade, Nicos pressed it firmly over the wound. The stench of burning flesh rose up and enveloped the one armed man, assaulting his senses and calling forth memories he would prefer to forget.

-Oh shit, this is bad.-
-Is he going to die?-
-There’s too much damned blood, I can’t see.-
-Oh gods, the arm’s mangled.-
-He’s awake.-
-Shit, this would be easier if he was still out.-
-Nicos? Nicos, we need you to lie very still. You’ve been hurt very badly-
-Hold him down; I’ll try to make this quick.-
-Nicos; I need you to focus on my voice. Try to ignore everything else.-
-Damnit, is that blade done yet?-
-Here, bite down on this.-
-Just my voice, there’s only my voice.-
-Oh gods, oh gods! The blood is everywhere!-
-Give me that blade, now!-
-It’ll all be over soon.-
-He’s bucking! Hold him steady!-
-Oh gods, that stench! I think I’m going to be … urk.-
-Keep him down!-
-It’ll soon be alright, everything will soon be alright.-

Blinking tears away from his eyes and returning to the present, Nicos pulls the blade away from Cadrius’ flesh and examines the wound, struggling to keep from screaming at remembered pain. The cauterization had done its job well, leaving only a little blood oozing from the main wound. Having stepped away from the struggling man, Nicos was caught off guard by one of the frenzied kicked, getting stuck firmly in the chest, and knocked to the ground.

Wincing at the bruises the blow had caused, the bard got back to his feet only to find Cadrius now passed out. Stepping in to examine the wound again, Nicos shook his head. It had improved, but not nearly an improved enough. Dropping the still red-hot dagger to the side, and still trying to shake the echoes of the past, the bard sighed and mutters aloud.

"Well at least he is unconscious now. This spell is an unpleasant thing."

Holding his hand level over the wound, Nicos began loudly chanting. Normally when the bard called upon the arcane to aid him, it was a quiet thing, barely audible. This time the effects were more noticeable.

Feeling the unnatural energies gather, the hair on the back of Nicos' neck stand on end as his chanting increases. A feeling of sickness grows in his gut, and the man struggled to continue chanting without upheaving his breakfast. The magic was unnatural, unpleasant, and building.

With another increase in volume, the bard jams his hand against the wound, and gave a mighty shudder as the power crawled through his body into that of the former paladin. His skin crawling almost uncontrollably, Nicos finally leaves the chant to die into echoes and removes his hand to reveal the wound. It's healing had been notably speed along. This coupled with the cauterization meant Cadirus was no longer in risk of death.

Having done all he could, Nicos steps away, and stumbles to the ground. Vainly attempting to blink away tears, the bard grasps for the flask that no longer hangs at his belt. Denied the escape of oblivion, the ghosts of the past overwhelm Nicos the Bard. Former member of the Brotherhood of the Raven's Claw. Former Whole-Man.

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben moved away from the now unconscious warrior as Nicos mumbled something about a spell. Ben didn't even watch, too busy panting and trying to keep the ration he'd just eaten down in his stomach, leaning against one of the nearby rocks for balance. The smell of Cadrius' flesh burning was bad, but wasn't unbearable or a new sensation. But the sight of the blade searing and boiling the flesh, the look on the other man's face...it was all too much like that night--

No. Ben closed his eyes, banishing the thoughts away. Now was not the time for that. The deed had been done, Cadrius was out now, and Ben didn't think it would be wise to move him. Ben looked up at the gathered group. Cadrius was out cold, and Nicos was the only one with any medical experience it seemed so needed to stay here. That left Blarth and the woman, what did Nicos call her again? Shadow? No, Shade, that was it.

Pushing himself away from the rock, he moved over to where she was, where the troll was still burning.

"Shade, Cadrius is out. I don't know for how long, but it'll probably be long enough for whatever friends this Troll may have had to come looking for us." Ben glances over where the more armored man lay against the rocks and looks back at the cloaked woman.

He doesn't like her. Maybe it was becuase of how she'd started that interrogation last night, or her saying she had been a theif before. Maybe there wasn't even a reason, but the tension in the air between them was so great it was almost tangible. She had been the one to spot the troll however, so it was obvious that her senses were more finely tuned than his.

"They're probably not anywhere near here, but lets you and me check out the surrounding area anyways. Maybe we can find someplace better than here to hide in while we wait for Cadrius to become mobile again."

[Gralhruk]

The troll burns; noisy, smoky, and acrid. Somewhat obscured, Shade can see Nicos and Ben preparing to heal Cadrius. She should go to him, comfort him. Another woman would. She thinks about a lock of blond hair in a silver amulet and her jaw grinds. His woman would have.

As usual, Cadrius is stoic as they approach. Shade is rooted where she is, every muscle taut with something between fear and fury. There is anger in her, enough anger to slice into friend or foe with words or blades like it was the fight of her life. Why had Cadrius let himself get hurt? Why did this troll have to lumber across their path? Why did it have to be someone she cared about?

Her fist clenches. If they had any decency they would have pummeled him into unconsciousness. Almost. She almost goes to do it but then it's to late, and his yells of pain make that fist tighten until the knuckles crack.

When Ben approaches the veil hides the emotion surely displayed on her face. It takes monumental self control not to simply explode into the fury that consumes her as eagerly as fire consumes a troll. Eyes like steel spikes turn on him with vengeance and she merely stares for long seconds. Then she turns away as her feet move to do what he asked.

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben took a step back when Shade looked at him. The hatred in her eyes wasn't so shocking, but the pure, raw fury was. He was certain that his skin would just wither away, his bones reduced to ash, underneath that gaze. She held his gaze, and the way her eyes burned made it so he didn't dare turn away from it for fear of being made a target of that fury.

But she turned away from him after several agonizing seconds. Ben let out a breath he didn't even realize he'd been holding, hoping never to be under such a terrible gaze again. He started after the other woman, closing his eyes to calm his nerves from the intense experience before opening them again to see that he'd caught up to the smaller figure.

He fell in behind her, letting her scout out ahead. The only reason he'd even come along with her was becuase one: it had been his idea and two: he didn't want her to get caught without some support. It wouldn't do much good for him to have to explain to the others that she had disappeared when he suggested she scout things out.

So he just kept quiet and followed Shade, hoping for his sake that she would be able to keep herself from unleashing that fury from earlier.

[Shadowfane]

Surayon watches as the one-armed man presses his knife to the other humans wound, the smell of cooking flesh and the sound of muffled screams carrying across to where she hides. She holds herself still, waiting for the moment to quieten, not wanting to provoke anything when she gets up. Before she can start moving, she sees the hooded one and the other armoured human head into the surrounding area, a little to the left of where she is hidden. To be found now would possibly provoke a confrontation, one she doesn't wish to occur; she must save her rage for the killers of her village. Realising her hand has been forced, she sighs quietly, then stands and glides forward towards the one-armed man, deliberately stepping on a twig and snapping it with a sharp crack to advertise her presence.

[Black Plauge]

Still fatigued from the inhuman exertion he had used to mangle the troll, Blarth collapses next to the unconcious Cadrius after Nicos is done with his work. Once again Blarth was thankful he had been gifted. Many of his tribe had borne the scars of such treatments as he had just witnessed. Blarth however, had no such scars, had never had to endure such painful treatments. His gifted mind could heal his body's injuries far easier and far faster than the branding iron.

Shooting straight up at the sound of the twig snapping, Blarth grabs for his club again, afraid that they might be under attack from another troll. Instead all he sees is the slight figure of an elven woman. Who was she? And why was she in this desolate place by herself? Lowering his club, but keeping it in hand, Blarth challenges her, "What are you doing here?"

[Shadowfane]

Walking forward, Surayons head snaps round as she hears the voice, and she curses herself as she remembers the other member of this party - the half-orc with the club.
"What are you doing here?"
Biting back the irritation at her lack of attention, she answers, speaking formally and coldly.
"I am Surayon Lauthelias of the Blackwood, and my buisiness here is my own. And what of you? What are you doing here, and why are you making enough noise to bring every beast within a league down on you?"

[Gralhruk]

Shade spins as the elf speaks, inwardly cursing herself for being as wooden eared as the men she travelled with. Nobody should have gotten that close to them without being noticed. As her mind analyzes that almost melodic voice she frowns. Elves were stealthy.

If Surayon had meant to harm them, she could have struck already. Shade saunters up to her slowly.

"What were we thinking, making all that noise. It would have been better to let this troll eat us quietly."

[Shadowfane]

Surayon turns to look at the cloaked figure, only now realising that the hood hides a womans face. A glance around shows the whole group is here, all seemingly watching. Courtesy, remember, be polite...
"What were we thinking, making all that noise. It would have been better to let this troll eat us quietly."
A flare of anger erupts as the woman speaks, but is quickly swallowed by the ever-present emptiness. After all, what difference does one troll, or two, or hundreds really make, as long as she can get her vengeance?

"Yes. It would"

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben froze when he heard the branch snap and saw Shade turn arounf. He though maybe he'd stepped on it, and now she would berate him on his poor stealth skills. But then he heard a voice.

Ben turned his head to see the slight figure of an Elf.

The elf snapped the twig on purpose. They're light enough that, if they wanted to sneak up on us, they wouldn't snap a twig if they stepped on it. She WANTED us to find her. Which is harmless if she wasn't the person who sicked the troll on us. But could mean she's distracting us if she was...

Giving only an impassionate stare as his thoughts veer into the area for traitors and spies, he turns back to face Shade, wondering if they could still go out scouting. But he knew that, with a new stranger here, she wouldn't leave. Why would she leave them to the mercy of someone she didn't know?

Ben chuckled at that thought, realizing why it was that Cadrius had stayed up for watch with him last night. Of course. It makes sense now. Why did I think they would trust me?

The same, impassionate stare comes back to his face. Well, he wouldn't let the elf fool him. If her allies were about, he'd find them, without the woman's help.

He shouldered his way past Shade and went over the next rise, intent on finding the Troll's allies. It didn't make any sense that it had attacked them all by itself. It HAD to have allies somewhere. And he'd find them. Even if it took the rest of the day.

[itches]

The voices in the present reached through the haze of memories that held Nicos in check, and bought him back to reality. Still disoriented, the bard looked around and noticed an elven woman standing nearby.

'Saelyn,' he started still without a complete grasp on the situation. 'Che cosa faites aquíla?*'

As the last of the fog lifted from his mind, the man realised his mistake. While the woman was indeed an elf, her hair was more silver then white, and Saelyn would never have dressed in those clothes. Recovering from his gaff as smoothly as possible, Nicos smiles.

"Shame on you all. Why didn't someone tell me we had a guest?"


((OOC: *elvish = What are you doing here?"))

[Shadowfane]

She turns as she hears an umfamiliar voice speaking a familiar language, and almost, almost, the sound brings her close to tears. It has been so long since she heard her own language, even slightly mangled as the human speaks it, unable to pronounce the words quite as an elf would. Involutarily she replies in the same style,
"Ne dovienda misain shau."

Then the coldness returns, and she turns empty eyes on the one-armed man who dragged her emotions close to the surface for the first time in a year.
"Who are you, and what do you do here?"

((OOC: said "I hunt killers" ))

[itches]

Catching the words, and the change, Nicos' smile broadens.

"Us? Well we were sent out to find the key-stone of an item which contains a terrible power, by a secret socity of mages, in their hidden fortress," he states with a straight face.

"Why do you ask?"

[Gralhruk]

Irritated by Nicos' easy familiarity with a potential enemy, Shade can only roll her eyes. However, his words were certainly more apt to keep the situation from exploding than her own. Behind the veil she frowns. Maybe it was just her recent experience with Laronar, but elves definitely seemed to have a way of getting on her nerves.

"Like you said, anything hostile knows we're here and might come looking. Why do you want to be around for it?"

[Shadowfane]

Suddenly being interrogated from two sides at once, Surayon stiffens slightly. Humans. So quick to be suspicious, so untrusting... but then, was she really any different? She turns, pointing at the now unconscious human.

"Because he doesnt look to be in a fit state to fight another troll. From the way your tracks are running, you look to be heading into the foothills further north of here. The man I'm tracking went that way. I'd rather not find him, then come back and find you've been eaten if I can do something about that."

She listens to her words as they leave her lips. Did she mean that? Perhaps, perhaps not. She rubs a hand over the hilt of her longsword without realising it, thinking of the battles to come.

[Gralhruk]

Shade regards the other coldly, skepticism clear in her eyes. Those damned wizards might well have sent her after them. Even if they didn't, why would this stranger want to help them?

She wouldn't.

What did that leave? Surayon said she was tracking someone. Maybe she figured that she'd need help when she caught up to him.

"We can fight our own battles. And we don't have time for yours."

[Shadowfane]

Surayon glances away from the woman, taking in the area around her as she speaks.

"We can fight our own battles. And we don't have time for yours."

She looks back at the unconscious human, the scent of burned flesh still hanging in the air.
"Yes, I can see that..."

[itches]

As the conversation shifted away from Nicos, the ever present stench of burnt flesh and the fresh memory of Cadrius' flesh burning under his hands, conspired to drag the bard back to older memories. To the remains of a slave camp. To a crowd of people around him. To a blade, burning and searing his flesh. To a scream, rising from deep within, echoing forever deep in his-.

"Ahhh!" Nicos yelled leaping to his feet. Ignoring the startled glances, Nicos starts talking, attempting to cover his agitation.

"Damnit, you two can kill each other later," He starts. "Right now we need to get out of this clearing, and find a campsite nearby where Cadrius can rest. Shade, you find somewhere while Blarth, Ben and -". Noticing for the first time that Ben isn't present, the bard grits his teeth in annoyance, but pushes on anyway. "Blarth and I gather Cadrius' gear, and then move it and him to the camp site."

Spareing the newcomer only a glance, Nicos continues. "As to you elf, you can either help us or stay out of our way. I don't give a damn."

Not giving anyone the opportunity to argue back, the one-armed-man angrily kicks a rock out of his way as he moves to gather his cast off blades.

[Gralhruk]

Shade bristles at the implied challenge from the elf. The battle, Cadrius' wounds, and now this arrogant woman: it all worked to fuel her natural tendency towards anger.

Try me.

The words are as close to her lips as her palms are to the hilts of her swords. And then Nicos interrupts with an inarticulate cry. When his tirade is done she decides that a fight with Surayon gains them nothing. The knowledge does little to lighten her mood, though. Ignoring the elf and her words, Shade answers the one armed bard icily.

"I'll get Ben and find someplace close."

Giving Surayon one last stony look, she heads after Ben at a trot. Nicos might look like an invalid but Shade knew better. Plus he was smart enough not to turn his back on the newcomer. And he had Blarth to back him up.

[Black Plauge]

Quickly shoved out of the converstaion by the more assertive members of the group, Blarth sits down to rest and shake off the remainder of his battle fatigue. It would do no good to keep pushing himself now if another threat showed up. And besides, the elf didn't seem too dangerous. Far less dangerous than the troll at least.

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben started moving down the other side of the rise as soon as he was out of sight of the others. Sliding down would have been more accurate actually, as loose rocks and dirt made it a treacherous descent to say the least.

When he got about three-fourths of the way down, he looked back behind him. The rise was much larger on this side than it was at their battle site. Apparently this side was a depression going down lower than the rest of this desolate wasteland. Ben saw a figure appear at the top of the slope, but paid it no heed. Probably just someone coming to help him. Maybe Shade had finished with her little quarrel with the elf. Ben turned back around and started shuffling down the slope without acknowledging the figure.

A few steps later, he stepped on a rock that looked stable from above, but gave way when he put his weight on it. He cursed as he slipped and fell painfully on his rump, and promptly started sliding towards the base of the hill as the loose pebbles and dirt continued to give way.

Well, at least I'll reach the bottom fairly quickly this--

"Ah crap," he said aloud when he saw that the "bottom" of the rise was actually several feet lower than he'd predicted, revealing a sheer drop at the bottom. He flew off the slope, tried to catch the edge but just got a handful of dirt, and fell 12 more feet to land painfully on his back on the bottom. His shield blocked the pain any rocks present might have caused, but landing on the flat metal back of a shield with handles wasn't that big of an improvement in Ben's mind.

"Ow," Ben said after several seconds of pain and grimaces on his part. He looked over to see his sword lying beside him on his left. Getting back up into a sitting position, he said, "By the gods, what'd I do to get on Fiol's bad side today?" He reached over and picked up his sword and brought it so he could look at himself in the blade to ensure he hadn't cut himself in the fall. The ichor from the troll was still present on the blade though, and he found his thoughts moving back to the troll.

It just didn't make any SENSE. Attacking them by itself had been stupid, it should have know it never would have been able to beat them alone. Ben had fought goblins before, who were never particularly bright, but big tough creatures like this troll were generally more intelligent than simple goblins. So it only made sense that this troll would have friends to reinforce it. Didn't it?

Ben sighed. He didn't know that much about trolls, but he realized that sometimes singularly powerful monsters weren't always bright, like with Bugbears. Maybe that was the case here, the troll just wasn't that bright. But was he really willing to risk it? If the troll DID have friends, they weren't that far behind it probably.

Ben looked up to where he had flown off the slope of the rise. An overhang jutted out from the slope going out about 20 feet or so to the left and right before stopping. Then the slope came back and led back down into this depression at the same grade as the rest of the hill. Underneath the overhand was what grabbed his attention though. About 6 feet underneath the overhang was a boulder, roughly as tall as he was in height.

Ben got up, sheathed his sword back into the loop on his belt, and moved over to the boulder to examine it. Why would there be a boulder here? Maybe it was hiding something? But when he tried to find evidence of a cave, he came up empty. Ben frowned in disappointment. Maybe he should try and move it instead. He positioned himself on one side of the boulder and threw his weight into trying to move it.

The stubborn thing wouldn't budge.

Ben grimaced and tried again. And again. And again. Something about it, a hunch if you would, was telling him that this boulder was important somehow.

[Shadowfane]

Surayon winces slightly at the cry from the one-armed man, the sound boring through her hood into her ears. The following words did have a point, however. The people here had no reason to trust her, after all, and arguing with people still high on a battle rage probably wasn't the best plan. Still, at least she had some names now. The injured man, still laid out cold on the floor, that was Cadrius, if she remembers rightly. The woman... Shade? possibly, after all, she didn't exactly look like a Blarth; that most likely was the half-orc with one of the biggest clubs she has ever seen. That would presumably make the other human, who had wandered off as she emerged, Ben.


She lets out a quiet sigh. Cadrius didn't look in a good way, and despite what they said, right now they needed all the help they could get, after all, the troll was hardly the only beast out here. There were signs everywhere for someone who could see them, and the mountains up ahead were probably the lair for any number of creatures. She pushes her hood back and bends over Cadrius' form, studying him intently. Bad, but not seriously so, at least at the moment, and probably safe to move. She looks up at the one-armed man, the only member of this party whose name she doesn't yet know, violet eyes staring into his.

"So, how can I help?"

[itches]

Having recovered his blades and composure, Nicos grins at Surayon's question. Reaching out and rapping on Cadrius' heavy armour.

"You can carry this."

Turning towards Blarth and dropping into a crouch, Nicos queries the half orc.

"Do you think you can carry Cadrius?"

[Black Plauge]

"Make a travois," Blarth replies. "It will be easier and safer for Cadrius if we transport him on a travois."

"We'll need some poles about half agian as tall as him and as thick as his wrists. Strips of birch bark would also be nice," Blarth continues, looking around, "but we may not have that option here. We'll have to make do with what ever kind of vinage we can find or strips of cloth from our clothing and bedrolls."

[Gralhruk]

Shade crested the small rise and looked down the shale strewn slope at Ben's retreating figure. Behind the veil she makes a face, irritated that he insisted on wandering off and further irritated that he picked this spot to wander off to. Even as she watches, the unsteady slope gives way beneath his weight, sending the one time mercenary crashing unceremoniously out of sight.

Cursing under her breath, Shade hops over the edge and half slides down the slope, quick stepping to avoid the same fate as Ben. Almost before she starts there is a metallic clashing - presumably the sound of Ben hitting bottom. More muted curses from her (and, one might imagine, from Ben as well). So much for keeping quiet.

She leaps off the rapidly approaching edge and lands lightly, tumble rolling, then comes up crouched and ready for anything. Her searching eyes quickly find Ben, inspecting the stone beneath the overhang.

"What in the nine hells are you doing? Cadrius can't walk and we've got a stranger in camp. This isn't the time to go prospecting for gold."

[Shadowfane]

Surayon looks down at the amour piled unceremoniously into a heap near Cadrius's body, and sighs quietly. What was it about people that they thought encasing themselves in metal helped protect them? A body could be trained to avoid blows, natural reflexes could be honed, improved on, while a man in armour was no more than a walking target for a swifter, more dextrous foe. Her time spent with the natural world had taught her that, showed her how deadly a wolf could be with nothing more than fangs, claws and speed, and her tutors amongst the rangers had honed the lessons learned, praising her abilities and eventually giving her a place amongst the settlements defenders....

She shakes her head abruptly, her hands clenching around her sword hilts, knuckles whitening, as a memory forces its way to the front of her thoughts. She sees the chapel of Blackwood burning, the fire set by her own hand, the bodies of her friends and family scattered about the ground. With an abrupt mental effort, she banishes the image and squeezes her eyes closed, breathing hard for a few seconds. Calming down, Surayon crouches and starts to sort throught the armour, placing the smaller pieces in her pack and lashing the rest together to make it easier to carry.

[Cadrius]

He had hoped that the pain might've been gone by the time he awoke. That hope, it seems, was foolish. The ghost of red-hot metal against his flesh lingers and he keeps his eyes shut, trying to drive off the pain by sheer force of will. He fails. Cadrius doesn't wish to see the work done by the bard. He dimly wonders if by some stroke of poor fortune, he might end up with only one arm as well.

Never before had it been necessary to heal by fire, and the fallen paladin prays it never will be again. Before there had always been battle priests or his own divine gifts to heal any wound quickly and easily. Of course there had been nicks and light gashes that were allowed to heal on their own in order to harden the squires and dull their sensitivity to pain. Yet nothing from those days had trained him for this. By comparison the brand upon his hand had felt as sweet as a maiden's kiss.

Relucantly he opens his eyes and sees a woman stealing his armor. Her features are fair enough, angular in nature. An elf. What manner of elf would give in to avarice? She methodically sorts the pieces that protect from the waist up and stows them in a bag. As she hefts the breastplate Cadrius realizes she's slight in comparison to him and wonders if all elves are of a similar stature.

Cadrius moves his left hand slightly so that it rests upon the dagger hilt on his belt. The motion is slight, but even so the elf catches it out of the corner of her eye. Violet eyes framed by silver hair regard him cooly. She possesses the same manner of beauty that Shade does. The two are like statues carved of marble: so fair, but also so cold. He notices no fear in her eyes from the threat of the dagger. The fallen paladin doubts he cuts much of an imposing figure at the moment, yet the hand remains. He has had little dealings with elves, but there are always stories of those who have given themselves over to evil. And in a godforsaken place such as this, Cadrius would not be surprised to meet one.

"Tell me," Cadrius says, his voice soft from the stress, "why are you taking my armor?"

[Shadowfane]

A movement from the downed man catches Surayon's eye, and she pauses in her sorting of the armour at her feet to glance round. Incredibly, the man is both awake and aware, although from the look of pain in his eyes, that isn't a good thing. She glances down, caught by the flash of sunlight on steel, and sees that he has a dagger clutched in his hand. Dismissing it as irrelevant, the man can barely move, let alone be a threat in his present state, she hears his words, whispered in a voice taut with concealed pain.

"Tell me, why are you taking my armor?"

Her eyes widen slightly, then narrow as she searches his face, looking for some trace of any ability to trust. She lets out a quiet laugh, smiling as she thinks of the absurdity of anyone choosing to trust her, a non-human, far from her home in an area so far not renowned for its treatment of other races.
Catching Cadrius's eye, she replies softly,
"Your friends are doing other tasks. Shade and... Ben? Yes, Ben, are looking for a more... defensible spot than this one. The half-orc and the one-armed man are seeking a way to carry you, and the man asked me to carry your armour." Her gaze grows harder, more challenging. "But if you choose not to trust me, then by all means, get up, put your armour on, and move on."

[LonePaladin]

"What in the nine hells are you doing? Cadrius can't walk and we've got a stranger in camp. This isn't the time to go prospecting for gold."

Shade's scolding of Ben is prevented from escalating further by a voice, cracking and obviously in pain.

"Help. I'm stuck."

[red_dr4g0n94]

"What in the nine hells are you doing? Cadrius can't walk and we've got a stranger in camp. This isn't the time to go prospecting for gold."

Ben felt a twang of annoyance at the woman's voice. The words, and the way they were spoken, left no doubt as to the speaker.

If I was looking for gold, I can think of go greater reward than taking my sword to-. The words were on the tip of his tongue when another voice, pained and in agony from the sound of it, spoke.

"Help. I'm stuck."

"Wha--?" Ben said in confusion. He looked again at the boulder that seemed to be where the voice came from. He couldn't see anywhere that might be an entrance through the massive rock.

He glanced back at Shade, his face showing confusion and a bit of helplessness. He gave a shrug, showing he didn't know what to do. He figured that someone might be trapped behind the boulder, but he couldn't see how they could have possibly gotten behind it in the first place.

[Cadrius]

"...then by all means, get up, put your armour on, and move on."

He scowls and thrusts the dagger back in its sheath. His shoulder pains him, the skin an angry scarlet to match the blood-soaked remnants of his doublet. Cadrius pushes himself into a sitting position with his other arm, careful to avoid upsetting the seared flesh. Waves of nausea crash over him and his head sways, but after a few moments the dizziness passes.

Reaching across his body, he wraps one hand around a gauntlet and drops it in his lap. So far, so good. Yet when he comes to the breastplate, muscles contract and his shoulder throbs mightily. The fallen paladin grits his teeth against the pain and watering eyes and refuses to groan. Stubbornly he slides the armor along the ground and props it against his thigh. He looks at the remaining pile and then at the bag containing his belongings. There's little chance of donning it again and less that he'll be able to lash it to his bag and carry it.

He keeps his eyes downcast at the steel that had failed to protect him; Cadrius pushes the breastplate away. His voice still soft, he speaks to the elf again. "I will need aid."

[itches]

Watching Cadrius struggle to pick up his armour, Nicos frowned knowing that it would prove an impossible task to the man, yet not willing to take the lesson away from him. When the former Paladin finally gave up and asked for help, the bard let out a silent sigh.

Dropping a hand on his uninjured shoulder, Nicos quietly speaks.

"Peace Cadrius, your body just needs time to heal. You've avoided becoming a cripple so rest. By tomorrow morn you should be back to your jolly old self."

[Gralhruk]

Shade glares at Ben, then at the implacable stone. Of all the stupid possible coincidences, that they should stumble on the one rock in this god forsaken wasteland that had someone in need behind it . . .

If it actually was a person and if they really did need help - two things Shade was not entirely convinced of. Unless it was the troll's den and this fool was his next meal. Possible, but unlikely. She didn't think a troll would postpone eating a victim. Certainly not one hungry enough to attack a group as large as theirs. She eyes the size of the boulder and then her companion. It didn't look like they'd be able to move it. And the others were busy elsewhere.

"Look, I don't know who you are or what you are doing in there but I don't think we can get you out. We'll come back with help."

Well, maybe they would and maybe they wouldn't. No need for this poor fool to know that though - or Ben, for that matter. She looks over to him grimly.

"Alright, let's get out of here."

[Shadowfane]

"I will need aid."
Surayon lets out a quiet breath, relieved that Cadrius is enough of a man to admit when he is unable to accomplish a task on his own. She sets to packing his armour once more, finally splitting the pieces between her travelling pack and a lashed-together assortment of the bigger pieces. Hefting the unwieldy shapes onto her shoulder, she sways slightly at the unaccustomed weight, but manages to distribute the load enough to regain her balance. Grimacing at the encumbrance, she refrains from saying anything; in trying to do things his way, Cadrius has at least earned enough respect to keep her from mocking his way of fighting.

She glances around, noting the lack of creatures; presumably the troll ate anything that crossed its path, but the absence of living things could also mean the approach of others, unlikely as that was. Of course, that could also be to the noises that were coming from here just a moment ago, she muses. She turns back to the one-armed man.
"So, now where? And by the way, I still haven't caught your name..."

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben looked at Shade with something between worry and resignation. On the one hand, the whoever was behind there was probably trapped. There was no way, unless he was strong as a bull, to move this boulder by one's self. And if there was a cave behind this boulder, it might make a good defense point. Especially if they put the bould back in front of the entrance.

On the other hand, they couldn't actually SEE behind the large piece of rock. It could be a person behind there, or simply an incredible creature that wanted to eat them. Besides, he couldnt' move this by himself, and Blarth and Nicos were helping Cadrius, who was injured. Going off and releasing another danger wasn't exactly a career building move here.

Finally, Ben wondered whether or not this group even really WANTED another person along, for any reason. They barely tolerated him, at least, Shade barely tolerated him. He got the feeling she felt that way about a lot of people. But and elf had just appeared, not more than 10 minutes ago, and Ben had only gotten involved roughly two days ago himself. Adding a third person to this group that at least seemed fairly tight-knit might be too much, too soon, too fast.

Of course, leaving someone here to die wasn't that big of an option in Ben's view.

So he just nodded at Shade. They'd be right back he told himself. Whether or not the trapped individual believed wasn't going to change his trapped status.

And whether or not Ben really believed it, well, HE sure didn't want to die out here just becuase of a sense of righteousness. That wasn't good business.
He stepped away from the boulder and moved to the side of the outcropping, then let Shade tak the lead. He followed her back up the slope so as to make sure he didn't slip again. He'd rather not have any more bruises.

[LonePaladin]

Three days. Three frickin' days since he ran from that stinkin', lumbering mass of rubber and claws. And he just had to wedge himself into this space, didn't he? And finally, finally, someone arrives -- only to tell him off and walk away. Not even a "how'd you get in there" or a "hang on, we'll try"; he could tell from the woman's tone that she'd prefer if he simply pissed off.

She didn't even give him a chance to ask for some water.

Finally reaching the point of true desperation, he closed his eyes, concentrating on the link he'd forged with Kahlan two years ago. Not strong enough for true communication, he could only send emotions, feelings, and vague imagery. With as much will as he could muster, he focused on the sounds of the voices of his should've-been rescuers, coupling it with a strong sense of purpose.

* * *

As Shade and Ben reach the top of the slope, they spot something completely out-of-place in this sort of terrain: a cat. Small for an adult cat, it sits right in their path, gazing up at them with fully-dilated golden eyes, and meows piteously.

[Cadrius]

"I am many things, bard," Cadrius says, watching the elf collect the pieces of armor, "but jolly is not one of them."

Nicos' compassion is unsettling. Neither the bard nor the fallen paladin had much love for the other. Why the bard would suddenly become companionable is beyond Cadrius. He still doesn't trust the man, and hasn't since meeting him in the sewers beneath Karkas. And yet he had saved Cadrius' life this time. Salvation by fire. I did not expect that.

"Thank you...elf-maid," he says, uncertain of how to properly address the woman. All etiquette has fled his mind and he stands, feeling more than slightly awkard. Not even the few simple phrases of elven he had been taught remains. He feels akin to a mug, freshly drained of ale and with nothing but the dregs remaining.

With his good hand, he grasps one end of his bag and half-carries and half-drags it back to Nicos and the elf.

"I am Cadrius...just Cadrius."

[Shadowfane]

"I am Cadrius...just Cadrius."
Surayon mutters a curse in Elvish under her breath, realising that Cadrius was unconscious when she introduced herself. Inclining her head towards him, she decides, for no real reason, to introduce herself formally.

"I am Surayon, of the Blackwood Elves. May sunlight guide your path by day, and starlight illuminate your steps by night. Tel'area vhar neekhar."

Straightening, she looks Cadrius in the eyes, then deciding that he can at least be trusted not to fall over, she moves away, scanning the surounding area, one hand drifting near the quiver over her left shoulder. Tossing a glance over her shoulder at the three men left in the clearing, she calls back,
"Shouldn't your friends be back by now?"

[Black Plauge]

Looking up from where he was futily attempting to cut down a sapling with a dagger, Blarth sees Cadrius on his feet. Straightening up, he heads back over to Cadrius, a look of concern on his face, "Are you sure you should be getting up? That wound is pretty bad. You could reopen it if you push yourself to hard."

[Cadrius]

"I appreciate the concern, Blarth," Cadrius says, swaying a bit, "but we cannot stay here. My experience with trolls is limited, but I do not know them to travel alone."

The orc has the right of it; too much movement and his wound will become worse. What he really needs is a soft bed and rest. Unfortunately for Cadrius, neither are available here. What little solace to be had remains firmly in the tower and Cadrius would gladly test his luck against trolls over wizards.

"A pleasure to meet you, Surayon." The word falls out of his mouth with little grace. Elven is a difficult language to master, particularly when you have but a fraction of an elf's life in which to learn it. Cadrius turns and regards the woman with a bit of wonder. To live for centuries; he's never really thought about it. And yet he envies her. In a hundred years none of his enemies, none of his family, nothing of his old life would remain. He could move on and carry naught but memories with him. No one would need know, except him. Time would likely not heal those wounds and instead of being pursued by the clergy, he would be chased solely by his own demons. Nothing would change.

"Blackwood? I have heard that before, but I'm afraid I do not know where."

[Gralhruk]

Shade doesn't lead Ben back to camp. Not yet. They needed somewhere else to rest for a while, and preferably somewhere defensible without any large, hungry enemies nearby. As they start back up, Shade finds their way blocked by an unlikely feline: what appears to be a small housecat is sitting on the blasted rock of the slope. And, as is becoming the painful norm, it wants their help.

She tries to ignore the thing, but it tags along, mewling piteously. Finally, with a curse, she reaches down and picks it up and stares into the golden eyes.

"Enough."

Her voice is surprisingly gentle. In her mind, she is back in a small apartment in a much warmer place, with one of the neighborhood strays for company. She shrugs and tucks the creature into the crook of her arm then continues on her search. Instead of going all the way up the slope, she skirts East and then North. It doesn't take long to find what she is looking for. After a few quick words to Ben about the suitability of this new location, she takes them back a different way, looking for an easier way to get the rest of the group here.

Her stride slows as she nears their original campsite. Cadrius is standing, looking as grey as the lining of her cloak. He ought to be resting. Her pace quickens again, her mouth set in a tight line beneath the veil. There is disapproval in the gaze she turns on Cadrius.

"Alright. I found another spot. It isn't far."

[Shadowfane]

Tilting her head slightly, Surayon turns as Shade enters the clearing.

"Alright. I found another spot. It isn't far."
She watches the woman's hands, her body language as she speaks; a slight flck of the hand, a movement of the head as is to look back before she stares at Cadrius. The gestures are enough to tell her which direction to take to get to the new site Shade has found. She walks over to the lashed together armour, and with an easy strength not shown by her typically slight elven form, swings the pack onto her shoulders, swaying slightly until her balance realigns. As she heads off in the direction Shade appeared from, she passes Cadrius, and in a quiet voice, answers his unspoken question, unable to keep the pain and bitterness from her tone.

"Nowhere. You heard it nowhere, Blackwood isn't anywhere. Not anymore."

[LonePaladin]

As soon as Shade reaches the campsite, the little tortoiseshell starts squirming, wrestling her way free of the woman's arm. Once back on the ground, she runs a short distance away, then looks back. Again, she voices a pitiable meow. She takes a few more steps, then looks back again.

[itches]

Rasing an eyebrow as the cat leaps from Shade's arms, Nicos dryly states.

"Found a new friend I see."

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben wondered what else was going to happen today. Yesterday had been more or less uneventful, and today it felt like the world was trying to make up for lost time. So far he had encountered and fought with a troll, assisted in an emergency life-saving manuever with a heated blade, met an elf for the first time in over a year, fallen down the slope of a hill, slammed his back into the handles of his shield when he landed, stumbled across a boulder with someone -- or something -- behind it who was asking for help, and then had left said someone there for...what? Even Ben couldn't quite say why he'd left, but there had been no reason to stay, that was for sure.

And now there was a cat. A plain, ordinary, every day housecat. Ben had to shake his head at that, even as Shade moved to pick it up. He wondered if it had anything to do with the man being trapped, but he let the thought slide. The chances of that were next to nil, and apparently Shade wanted to get something else done besides bring him back to camp. He ignored the woman's rather odd behavior concerning the cat, and tried his best not to slip on the slope again.

It wasn't until they had actually found what she was looking for, and she asked him some questions about the defensibility of the place, that he remembered that they could use a place more defensible than their battle site to rest. He looked the place over from a tactical point of view.

It wasn't much really, a slight depression in the ground with a single rock jutting out on one side of the "bowl" and stabbing into the air. The rock was impossibly huge though, easily rising fifty feet into the air and with a base that was probably twice that much. What looked like several crude paths lead up to one side or the other of the rock, or simply rose to the top to give an excellent lookout point, if one could climb them that is. The rock provided very nice cover, and would perform nicely as something to put their back against, or even use to help shield someone.

All in all it was very convenient, if a bit obvious. The rock could be seen from several hundreds of feet away, and was the obvious place for someone to camp. Then again, they didn't seem to have much of a choice, and the place was the obvious choice for a camp for very obvious reasons.

So Ben agreed that it was probably the best place for them to make shelter for the night. And with that, they headed back to the camp, taking a different route for reasons only Shade knew. She still had that cat with her, Ben noticed.

As they approaced the camp, Ben saw shade quicken her pace. He didn't follow her, rubbing his jaw which still stung just a bit. Though the new path Shade had chosen was much better than the slope, Ben had still slipped on a small patch of loose gravel. This time though, he had simple falled forward instead of going slidding, but his hands and jaw had a couple of new scratches to show, though none of them were bleeding.

He came up behind her just as the cat jumps out of her arm. It makes that same horrible cry from before, and Ben remembers the boulder from below for some reason.

"It found us more than we it," Ben proclaimed at Nicos' statement, still looking at the cat. "It was waiting for us after we found a boulder wedged up underneath a rock outcropping at the bottome of the rise over there," he points to the hill that he and Shade had visited. "I thought there might be a cave or something behind it, so was I trying to move it when she found me. Just as she spoke though, a voice came from behind the boulder."

Ben looked at the one-armed bard. They all looked like they were getting ready to move, and now was as good a time as any to tell them. "He said he was stuck, though I couldn't see how or why he was stuck. Not that it mattered, since I found I couldn't move the boulder by myself anyways. I couldn't see who was making the voice for that matter, so it might be some sort of trick. Still though, do you think we should try and help the poor sap? I mean, dying out here from starvation or thirst isn't my idea of a good time."

[itches]

As the story of someone or something trapped behind a rock came out, Nicos' eyes shifted to Shade. However, if she held any opinion on the matter, it remained secreted behind her grey eyes. Nodding as Ben finishes the tale, the bard voices his opinion.

"After we get camp set up, I'll take a look. If it's a creature, I'm intrigued by something that would lay such a trap. On the other hand, if it's a person and they are indeed trapped. Well, there are more merciful ways to end your days then starving to death behind a rock."

[Gralhruk]

After the cursory inspection of their new camp, Shade pretty much ignores Ben. He doesn't seem to mind and she doesn't ponder the reasons. Just as the reach the others, the cat - which had remained a docile passenger up until now - suddenly turns into a squirming ball of claws. She drops it and it once more takes up its lonely mewling. Shade eyes the feline curiously for a moment, until Nicos makes his comment at which point she gives the bard a customary glare.

Ben chooses that moment to mention the cry for help they heard, and she grits her teeth. He just couldn't wait, could he? That fool Cadrius should be lying half delirious from pain, yet he'd managed to assume a standing position. All he needed was a cry for distress and he'd be off and running, no matter if it killed him. Thankfully, Nicos makes a sane suggestion.

"After we get camp set up."

[Cadrius]

"My mistake."

Cadrius allows himself a slight glimmer of satisfaction. Her past is just as dark as his own, or Shade's, or likely any of those that currently roam these unforgiving lands. The elf would be in good company then with murderers, oathbreakers, adulterers, and gods know what else they've done. Cadrius smiles grimly. He has been trained to lead men in battle, but instead he leads a black company of misfits and outlaws. Perhaps it's a better fit afterall, even if he doesn't dispatch orders or engage in sieges.

He follows Shade the distance to her new camp. It was not far enough to discourage hungry trolls, but it is far better than bedding down on the blood soaked ground. Yet the fallen paladin eyes the rock a bit uncertainly. Climbing is far more difficult than walking a short distance, particularly with his belongings to drag along behind him.

"You wish me to climb up there?" He looks to Shade and then back to the natural watchtower. It's a good choice, very defensible, if easily seen. There are few trees this high up and none are anywhere near the size of the stone. Cadrius sighs. "Very well."

Dragging his equipment along the ground, he approaches the nearest path and gauges the roughly worn stone. It isn't quite as intimidating, but it will be arduous. All things in life are, he thinks. All things.

"If there is a man down there, we would do well to come to his aid or end his suffering by nightfall."

[Shadowfane]

Surayon looks at the rock, jutting up out of the ground like an enormous monolith, and shivers slightly. She doesn't like it, it just reeks of ominous portents, of screams and sacrifice that she could hear just beyond her hearing. Then she pulls herself together; she's been looking at things in a dark light like that too often recently. Still, she is reluctant to spend too much time in close proximity to the rock, even if thats all it is; a rock. Dropping Cadrius's armour at the foot of the rock, she swiftly moves back towards their previous campsite, with a muttered, "Back soon" in Cadrius' general direction. Arriving at the clearing, and with the troll-fire beginning to smoulder and die, she works quickly, using brush, the occasional tree branch, and what little foliage there is it about to conceal the party's tracks; although Shade shows little evidence of her passing, signs of the others are all too clear; a new, defensible site would be useless if tracks lead any enemies straight to it.

[LonePaladin]

The little cat sits at the periphery of the campsite, occasionally emitting a piteous meow and generaly looking pitiful. After a while, she finally wanders off into the encroaching darkness.

* * *

Back in the hollow, Xandir gets a feeling of resignation through his link to the cat, just as darkness approaches. Sighing in frustration, he fishes his waterskin out of his pack, holding it upside down for several minutes to get the last few drops from it. You tried, Kahlan, he thinks as he sends what gratitude he can muster to her. Squeezing the waterskin, he finally gives it up for dead and tosses the dried husk out the hole, leaving it lying in the sand. Perhaps someone else will wander by tomorrow and spot it.

Then again, perhaps not. He finds himself wishing he just had a spell to make himself stronger, or smaller -- or at least able to conjure up some water.

[itches]

"If there is a man down there, we would do well to come to his aid or end his suffering by nightfall."

"Good idea," Nicos says, looking around what will be their camp site for the night. It wasn't a terribly bad spot, but neither was a place he would choose to camp at if he had a choice. Still, lacking a choice made the location more attractive then it would other wise have been.

"Why don't you stay here and concentrate on healing. Ben and I will go take a look at the mysterious trapped creature, and collect the first load of firewood on the way back. Agreed?"

[Black Plauge]

Looking at the monolith that shadows there new camp, Blarth considers it a moment before going about the buisness of setting up camp. Once camp is set up and Nicos and Ben head off to check on the..., whatever it was, Blarth comes back to the monolith and goes to climb it.

"I'm going to get the lay of the land," he says, as he begins climbing.

[Cadrius]

Cadrius is grateful to spend the night at the base of the stone rather than the summit, but he says nought of it. Instead the fallen paladin gives Nicos a nod and drops his belongings on the ground and slumps against the rock. Fatigue saps the remaining strength from his muscles and it's all he can do to simply keep his eyes open and alert.

He hears Blarth climbing, boots scraping against stone send pebbles and dust raining down. A few stray bits hit Cadrius, but they only barely register. He feels distant; he feels detached, as if he were in someone else's body. Yet the flamed-healed shoulder still burns, that much is real. He smiles mirthlessly. It's always pain that grounds him, that keeps him going. Now is no different. He turns over his right hand and slowly opens it, revealing the brand of Heironeous on the palm.

"Nothing has changed," he whispers to it before turning his hand over once more.

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben frowned at Cadrius' comment of climbing to the top of the spire. Ben hadn't thought even he'd been able to climb to the top, the thought of forcing an injured man to do so caused an image of slaver's whips driving long-ago exhausted men to the brink of death. He banished the image, and the feeling of wrongness that accompanied it, away.

Still, he wondered, why didn't the thought of leaving whoever was trapped behind the rock immediatley call forth such a reaction?

Ben nodded to Nicos at the bard's suggestion for them to check out the boulder then get some firewood. Taking one last glance over the new campsite, he turned around and started leading Nicos to the booulder, taking the route that he and Shade had taken to get to the spire from the bottom of the rise.

Around the point they got to the battle site, Ben turned to Nicos. "Like I said before, we couldn't quite tell if whoever it was was actually human or not. But judging from the voice, the guy's been down there for a while, few of days if I had to make a guess. If we do decide to try and move the boulder, you'll probably have to go and get Blarth to help me. I couldn't budge that rock by myself no matter how hard I tried."

[Shadowfane]

Returning to the campsite, Surayon glances around quickly, noting Cadrius slumped against the rock, and Blaerth occupied in climbing the spire; the others seem to have vanished to perform other tasks. She looks around, and moves over to a spot that gives a good view of the immediate area. Needing to do something to clear her mind from the anger and frustration she still feels, she draws her blades and launches into practising her sword-forms, moving gracefully, as if in a dance, the weapons moving around her in perfect harmony as she seeks to suppress the black mood taking hold of her - trying to fall into the emptiness she needs if she is to function.

[Gralhruk]

Crouched near the base of the monolith, Shade avoids the notice of those left in the campsite. Her grey eyes are focused on Cadrius but her mind is scattered. Beneath the midnight blue cloak, her knuckles are white around the hilt of her adamantine blade. He was in pain, that much was obvious, but there was something in his face that made her think he enjoyed it. The man threw himself into battle as though he were looking to die, for someone to answer the challenge and put him out of his self imposed misery.

Surayon returns, breaking the unpleasant mirror of her thoughts and presenting a new focus for her steely eyes. The elf handled her blades well enough, and with a conviction that spoke of the deadly serious. The adrenalaine thrills through her, somehow managing to fuel her spirit without warming her at all. Her hands relax slightly as they rest on the worn grips of her blades even as the supple muscles of her thighs tighten, ready to spring and draw steel in an instant. As she shifts her shoulders into the proper position the fine chain she wears around her neck catches the smallest bit against her skin.

And then, just like that, she relaxes back against stone. Behind the veil her teeth are bared but she forces her gaze away from the elf, releasing her swords and pulling her cloak tighter around her.

It didn't matter.

None of it did.

[Black Plauge]

Making his way up the rock, for a moment Blarth forgets where he is and is back climbing the cliffs near the village at home. It had been one of the games the children played, to climb the cliff as fast as possible. Blarth had never won, never even come close really, but he had still enjoyed the feeling of the rock beneath his fingers and toes.

Too soon, however, he runs out of rock and reaches the top of the spire. Gazing out over the landscape, Blarth is suprised to find that he can't find the citadel on the horizon. They weren't so far away that it should be out of sight, especially given the height of this promitory, yet try as he might he can't make it out.

What he can find, lies two days travel away as the crow flies. Wisps of smoke pour from vents along the side of a high peak that must be Erol. Several vents near the base glow the red-orange color of molten rock. The wizards had failed to mention that Erol was a volcano, but there were no other peak quite as prominent in the area.

Turning his attention to the ground between them and the mountian, Blarth is able to pick out some of the prominent features that had been described to them. It didn't look very difficult, but then Shade was the one who had really paid attention to the details of the route, perhaps she would be able to see something Blarth did not.

Taking one last look around, Blarth scrambles back down the rock to find the elf practicing sword forms, Cadrius fighting both pain and sleep, and Shade stewing on her heels.

Going over to her, he says, "You can see what must be Erol from the top. Looks like its volcanic. Go ahead and take a look, I'll keep an eye on Cadrius."

"And the elf," Blarth adds after glancing at her where she practiced her forms.

[itches]

"Well," Nicos said looking at the rock. "It certainly is big."

Examining the bolder from what he hoped was out of earshot of whatever was trapped inside, the bard frowned in thought before turning to Ben.

"You're right, you and Blarth should be able to shift it just enough for someone trapped to slip out. We could get the elf down here as well, and between the two of us we should be able to stop what ever it is in there from eating the pair of you. What do you think?"

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben mulled over what the bard had said as he watched the boulder from beside the one-armed bard. He and Blarth would definately have to come, or else there would be no chance of moving the thing. And it had to be Blarth, with Cadrius injured and unable to really exert himself.

"No," he said as he remembered the injured man back at the new camp site. "No, that would just leave Shade and Cadrius at the camp then. An injured man and a single woman to fight off anything that might stumble upon them." He looked over at the bard and said, "You've traveled with them longer than me. We should probably just head back to the camp, and I'll grab the elf and Blarth to help me. That'll leave you and Shade to protect Cadrius."

"Not that I expect there'll be any trouble," he said as he returned his gaze to the boulder and whoever, or whatever, was trapped behind it. "But there is no sense in not being careful."

[LonePaladin]

Ben notices something that wasn't there before, other than the errant footprints he and Shade had left the first time; just in front of the rock lies a discarded, dried-out waterskin. The little tortoise-shell cat that Shade had been carrying is lying nearby, watching the bag of leather with apparent suspicion.

[itches]

Musing over the plan, Nicos nods. It did make sense to evenly split up their forces, thought it did leave the situation here out of his hands.

"If you feel you can trust the elf to guard your back, okay. One thing though, if there is someone trapped in there, and you can't get him out ... the kindest thing we could do is to give them the option of a quick death as opposed to a slow painful one."

Looking at the man directly, Nicos raises an eyebrow slightly.

"Do you think you could do that?"

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben didn't even turn his head at the bard's words, though he realized the seriousness in them. It was something he'd heard before, how taking an innocent's life out of mercy was one of the hardest things a person could do. It wasn't an act of self-preservation, nor was it truly a noble act to perform. Killing someone in such a manner as that was a thin line between mercy and murder.

For a long moment there was only silence between the two men, Nicos looking at Ben, awaiting his response, and the warrior staring at the boulder. He noted the cat was there, staring at an item which looked a lot like a waterskin, albeit an empty one.

Finally, Ben broke the silence with a sigh, and he finally turned to meet the bard's gaze evenly. "I'll do it. I can't say I'll feel right doing it, but I'll do it."

Looking back at the boulder, Ben speaks up again. "So where do you plan on looking for firewood exactly? Just plan on scavenging what little we can find lying around, or did you have some specific place in mind?"

[Shadowfane]

Her tutors had called it the Void, the Flame, a myriad of names that meant the same thing: control of the emotions during combat. Only by fighting within the quiet, perfect calm could the true warrior unlock her potential. Surayon knew this, understood it, but lately it had become more and more difficult to do. Her rage flared during life and death situations, but in complete contrast to what she had been taught, that was the only time she actually felt alive; the rest of the time, whilst she felt calm, it was an empty, dead feeling that left her almost wishing for a battle, if only so that she could feel again.
Her swords start moving faster through the forms taught her at Blackwood, the rage and pain consuming her thoughts as her blades blur around her, ignoring her surrounding as she concentrates on the storm of emotions inside her, hoping vainly that this time, when she stops, she may just be able to keep hold of them.

[itches]

Grinning at the question, Nicos gestures vaguely at the wilderness around them.

"I was planning on wondering randomly preying that Fiol will provide. Stay here so that whoever is trapped there isn't alone, I'll send Blarth and the elf back down."

With that turned and started jogging back towards the camp site.

[Gralhruk]

Shade doesn't glance in Blarth's direction, her grey eyes focused on Surayon as she whirls through forms, her blades flashing. The swordplay interested her, but not as much as the look on the elf's face. There was enough hatred in her demeanor to bury an army of paladins. Behind the veil, she clenches her teeth and finally looks over at the half-orc. Her voice is acidic.

"Volcanic? That figures."

Of course, maybe Blarth was looking in the wrong direction - hadn't he gotten lost after that mess with the giant? She should probably follow his suggestion and have a look on her own but she didn't like the idea of leaving Cadrius. Blarth was sturdy and certainly capable enough but she was reluctant nonetheless.

"I'll check it out before we go."

[itches]

Jogging his way back towards the current campsite, Nicos was surprised to discover his breath growing short. Dropping back to a walk, the bard took deep gulps of oxygen as he considered this. Either he was getting out of shape, or they were still higher up then he had assumed.

'Maybe both,' the thought came with more then a slight touch of humour.

Striding into camp, Nicos' eyes were immediately drawn to the elf's sword play. Something about the insistent movements triggered an old memory of a slim man. Shaking it away, the bard waited until his companions noticed him then quickly explained the plan he and Ben had come up with.

"I'm not liable to be much help, so I thought I would stay here and help finish setting up camp," he finished looking around at everyone.

[Gralhruk]

Shade's eyes linger on the half orc, softening a little, something akin to curiousity behind them. Blarth had gotten lost alright, and nearly gotten himself killed. She never had found out exactly what had happened to him.

"When you got lost, before we reached the Citadel, you were badly wounded. But when we found you, those wounds were nearly gone. What happened?"

Moments later, Nicos walks into camp. Shade notices the direction of his gaze and her face hardens once more. She answers his brief summary curtly.

"Fine. You better hope there isn't more trouble behind that rock."

[Shadowfane]

The blades slow their dance, then finally stop, the emotions draining away like they always did. Surayon feels a flash of bitterness, of despair, then even that drifts away, leaving the emptiness once more. Slipping her swords back into their sheaths, she drifts over to the the one armed bard recently returned. Although she had been consumed in the fury of her dance, her ears haven't deserted her, she caught a few words. Bending and retreiving her bow and quiver, she walks over, her voice once more its flat, toneless self that sounds so at odds with the musical elven language.

"So. What now? Whats this about a rock?"

[Black Plauge]

Though he is caught off guard by Shade's question, it is not entirely unexpected. None of those he traveled with showed any sign of even knowing what a third eye was, let alone posessing one. Even Nicos, who seemed to be the most widely knowledgable of the bunch, likely knew little of it.

"Its my third eye," Blarth tries to explain, unsure of how to properly translate the concepts into common, "I am gifted with the ability to mold my body and mind how I will. To a limited extent at least. One of the things I can do is heal myself, like I did back in the inn in Karkas. As at the inn, sometimes I make it happen. Other times, my mind and body do so of their own accord."

The effort of explaining even that much obviously straining him, Blarth smiles and shrugs as further explination.

Fortunately, Nicos's return save him from further talk.

"It needs to be moved," he replies to Surayon's question.

[Shadowfane]

Surayon raises an eyebrow slightly; a rock that the Half-orc and the other human may struggle to lift is one that presumably her own athletic but markedly less developed physique would add little or no aid to. Shrugging slightly, she pauses to ascertain the direction from Nicos, then sets of, trusting that at some point Blaerth will catch up. Her eyes scan the ground, absorbed in their work, in no mood for casual conversation anyway.

[Gralhruk]

With Surayon, Ben, and Blarth gone the camp suddenly seems quite empty. Cadrius is laying down, obviously in pain. Nicos is watching her with his usual half-amused smirk. It strikes her suddenly that this is how they had left Karkas - just the three of them. Wouldn't it be okay for the three of them to just abandon this stupid quest and leave right now?

Cadrius chooses that moment to shift his position. Her eyes find Nicos once again, and she half-fancies that he knows exactly what she is thinking. Cadrius would never go for it, though. Behind the veil, she frowns and then crosses the distance to where he is stretched out.

"Bad, is it? I know you are hurting, but we don't know what they are going to find behind that rock. Maybe we'll need to get out of here quickly. You think you could do it, if I helped?"

[Black Plauge]

Arriving at the boulder, Blarth and Surayon find Ben leaning against it waiting quietly, and a small cat sitting in front of him, seemingly stairing up at him.

"So this in the rock that needs to be moved?" Blarth asks, not at all impressed by its size. Were it not for the battle earlier, he probably could have moved it himself, given a tree for leverage.

However, the battle had been draining and he'd need help to move it now.

"And probably that tree too," Blarth says, his thoughts spilling over into spoken words.

Seeing the others look at him in confusion, Blarth explains, "We'll need a tree to leverage the rock with."

Looking around for a suitable tree, Blarth finds a dead sapling that had been half uprooted by the land slide that had created the various screes in the area. Carefully wresting it from the ground the rest of the way, Blarth brings it back to the rock and wedges it into a small gap between it and the ledge it was leaning against.

"We'll have to wedge the tree in farther to get enough leverage. Ben, when I pull on the tree branch you need shove something into the gap to hold it open so that we can shove the tree in further."

[Cadrius]

"I will go as fast as I am able. If it proves lacking, then you know what must be done." He grimaces, but forces his gaze to remain locked with Shade's. She will object, of course, but at the very least he must voice the idea. He's useless to them now and would be a liability in battle. It will take a week at the least before he can swing a weapon again.

He turns his eyes to the bundle of armor laying nearby and chuckles sardonically at its promise of protection. For all its strength, the steel proved lacking in the face of a beast. In the dim light he can make out a bit of his dried blood along the breastplate. His bastard sword lays nearby, another bit of metal that offered salvation but gave nothing but death. The fallen paladin wonders if his life would have been different had he chosen to never touch a weapon.

I would have most likely have been killed ten times by now.

Cadrius turns his head to regard Shade once more. "I could do it."

[Shadowfane]

Surayon stares intently at the rock, listening to Blaerth's plan - its a good one, and theres no reason why it wouldn't work. The only problem she can she is that if they all heave, and whatever's inside is hostile, it would probably kill at least one of them before they could react. Looking at the sapling the half-orc is carrying, it seems clear that Ben and Blaerth can do this by themselves. Pulling an arrow from her quiver, Surayon nocks it to her longbow and takes position at the side, aiming the bow where the hole will be once the rock is moved.

[LonePaladin]

As soon as the elf draws a bead on the gap, the cat springs to its feet, dashes over to the hole -- right in the spot they're planning on placing the tree -- and gives them a plaintive meow. It suddenly darts in, then backs out again, dragging something in its teeth: a leather pouch, skillfully crafted and divided into multiple smaller sections. Its purpose is unmistakable... it's a pouch of components, used by arcane spellcasters.

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben watched Nicos go off towards the camp, then turned back to look at the rock. He moved over to it, deciding to give another once over before they moved it, but didn't find anything new except for maybe another another layer of dust. He sighed and leaned against the rock as he waited for the elf and Blarth to arrive. He didn't say anything, despite his curiosity about who or what was behind the rock. He was a bit wary about this whole thing, especially with that cat there watching him now that he was by the rock.

After a couple of minutes though, Blarth and the elf arrived. Ben nodded with the half-orc's idea for using the tree, and found himself impressed when the half-orc simply uprooted a dead tree that was nearby. The elf takes out an arrow and strings it before Ben can say anything, and he nods without saying anything. These two at least knew how to use their skills in this situation.

"Right," Ben says in acknowledgement to the half-orc's request for something to brace the rock while he repositioned the tree. He scouted around for a bit, during which time he heard that cat make the same cry it'd been making all afternoon.

Ben paused as he heard the cry, then looked over at the slim woman and pointed at where the cat had just come out of from behind the boulder. "Uh... you. Elf. Do something with that cat. Hold onto it, tie it down, whatever, just make sure it doesn't get in our way. It seems to like doing that," he finished to her. He waited till she did something with the cat, then returned to looking for a suitable rock, finding one shortly after that.

He moved over to where Blarth had wedged the tree in between the boulder and the wall, not even wondering about the cat anymore. Shoving the rock in its place while Blarth pulled the tree out, he moved to help the half-orc to wedge the tree in between the rock and the boulder. But as soon as they had gotten the tree past the rock, the rock popped back out towards Ben from between the boulder and the wall, almost crashing into Ben's knee, and the boulder immediately crashed back into place.

Ben cursed, grabbed the rock, and wedged it back into place as Blarth pulled the tree out again. They repeated the maneuver with the exact same results, the rock popping out as soon as they got the tree past it. Ben muttered something unwholesome and wedged the rock in again as Blarth pulled the tree out, but this time when they wedged the tree between the boulder and the rock, Ben put his foot on top of the rock and shoved it in along with the tree.

The trick seemed to work, and the tree kept going in between the boulder and the wall farther and farther, until suddenly the rock fell into whatever hole was behind the boulder. The tree snapped up against the side of the hole and Ben and Blarth both grunted as the boulder's weight tried to snap the tree in two. But now there was a small gap, roughly two feet wide and a foot or two off the ground, just enough for someone to squeeze through.

"Hurry... get... out," Ben grunted as he planted a foot up against the ledge wall to help brace himself and keep the gap open long enough for whoever to get out.

[LonePaladin]

A battered leather knapsack tumbles out of the hole, rolling past Ben's feet; the cat squirms out of Surayon's grasp, jumping to the ground to investigate. Following the pack, a young man painfully pulls himself out of the gap. His leather armor is worn in various places, he looks extremely dehydrated, and is in desperate need of a bath. His left hand, not occupied with the effort of moving, clutches a pair of weapons: a bow and a rather nasty looking chain with several jagged protrusions attached.

Pulling himself clear of his rescuers and the boulder, he flops onto his back, eyes squinted shut against the now-unfamiliar glare of the setting sun. Hoarsely, he croaks, "Water."

[Shadowfane]

Surayon narrows her eyes as she considers the man they just freed - although he looks half dead of dehydration, the spell component pouch tossed through earlier marks him as a magic-user. Her fingers itch against her bow, resisting the temptation to put an arrow through him right now, that can always be done later if neccessary.

Looking around, she notices with an internal grumble that both Blaerth and Ben have left their waterskins behind, so with a sigh, she bends over and tosses her almost-full skin to the ground just in front of the human, backing off quickly.

"Don't drink too much at once, or you'll choke. Small sips, then more once you've got used to it"

[LonePaladin]

Taking the waterskin, he uncaps it and takes a small drink from it, letting the water sit for a bit before swallowing. Sitting up with a bit of effort, he looks at his rescuers while the cat hops into his lap, purring loudly. "Thanks. I can't believe I got stuck in there." He takes another sip. "Please tell me that bloody troll isn't around anymore." Sip. "So, what do I owe my saviors?"

[Gralhruk]

When Cadrius answers she frowns at him. It was just like him to suggest that they leave him for dead. No, not leave him for dead. Inside, the anger flares white hot. And he asks her to do it. Beneath her cloak, the knuckles of her left hand whiten.

Shade's eyes must tell him how close she is to granting his wish right now because before she has a chance to open her mouth he gives the answer she wants: he could make it. She makes her head nod once, then casts a quick glance back at Nicos before returning her eyes to Cadrius.

"Good."

She breathes, letting some of the anger disperse. Always on edge: she was always on edge these days. When this was over with and they were rid once and for all of wizards, then she'd feel better.

"Good."

She gives a rare smile, then realizes he can't see her mouth behind the veil. It melts away. She lowers the veil, serious now but her eyes have softened.

"Were you always so reckless in a fight?"

[itches]

“I once knew a man,” the bard said suddenly. “Good with a sword. Better then good really, the best I’d ever seen. I was stuck with in an Inn in the middle of nowhere for a week with him – sudden snowstorm out of nowhere. Gave me a few tips on using this thing.”

Nicos lightly brushed his hand against the half of the longsword strapped to his hip.

“He really was a nice guy, and in that time we spent together, I learnt his secret. He would practice for hours every day, obsessively. Even religiously. Not just that, he would always practice with the one bade he carried. Always that blade and only that blade. It was a damn fine sword at that, so brilliantly balanced its weight almost disappeared. Kept it’s edge no matter how many times it hit a target, and I never saw a spot of rust on it. He always changed the subject when I tried to find out how he came to own it – strange that.”

Running a hand back through his h air, Nicos looked around the makeshift campsite seeing ghosts of the past reserved for his eyes only.

“Anyway, the point was that it was always with the same weapon. I asked him about it and he explained that he was just focussing on what he did best. To his credit he defiantly succeeded in that, though the idea of putting that much focus one-thing-only hardly seems worth it to me. He said he hadn’t touched another weapon in years, which led me to question what he would do if it broke or got lost.”

As he dropped his gaze to the rocky ground, Nicos gave a small shake of his head.

“He laughed at the question, explaining that the sword couldn’t break, and he always carried it on his so it wouldn’t get lost. It’s a pity what happened to his, he was a nice guy.”

The following silence hung in the air for the dew moments it took the bard’s companions to realise he wasn’t going to continue.

“Well,” one said. “What happened to him?”

“Oh, a few months later someone stole it from him while he was sleeping. He was killed in a fight not to long after that – or so I heard.”

Silently the bard wondered what the moral of the story was.

[red_dr4g0n94]

A man. A man, human from the looks of it, crawled out through the small opening that Ben and Blarth created. After he was through, they let the boulder crash back into place, leaving the tree wedged in between it and the wall still. Ben watched, wiping the sweat off his brow, as the man asked for water and the elf gave him her waterskin. The cat jumped into the man's lap, and the man looks at them as he asks them what he owes them.

Ben couldn't even answer at first. The thought of getting anything out of this hadn't even crossed his mind. He'd actually thought that maybe some creature was stuck and he would be attacked the moment he let it loose. And what did he know about the troll?

"We killed a troll earlier, but I don't know if that's the one you're talking about. As for what you owe us, I'd say you could start by you telling us who you are and how you got stuck in the first place."

[LonePaladin]

The man takes a longer drink from the waterskin, then nods. "I can do that. My name's Xandir. I was walking through the forest -- must've been two, three days ago -- when this troll showed up and decided I'd make a nice snack. I wasn't too keen on the idea, mind, but there was no way I'd have a chance facing the thing. Ended up taking a tumble off that cliff up there, and spotted the hole under that rock.

"I don't know how I managed to fit in there; I was a little to worried about keeping my skin intact, you see. Anyway, I squirmed my way in, waited for a while to make sure the beast wasn't waiting for me, and realized I couldn't get out."

He takes a healthy swig of water. "I'd run out of food and water pretty quickly after that. I started sending Kahlan--" indicating the cat on his lap-- "around to look for help, but she had a hard time convincing you to follow her."

Testing himself, he stands up, pushing the cat off his lap first. He seems a little shaky on his feet, but still able to stand. "Wherever it is you're going, do you mind if I tag along? I don't want to have to run from something again, if I can help it."

[Shadowfane]

Surayon only half-listens to the man's tale, more occupied with scanning the surrounding area; despite this being apparently the trolls hunting range, the chance of other predators approaching was more likely the longer they stayed in one place. Letting the obviously dehydrated man keep her water skin for now, she heads off back in the direction of the campsite, eyes constantly moving, throwing off a parting comment at Ben as she does so,

"You can deal with this, I'm sure, better than I can, I at least. I'm going to check the area before everyone turns in."

[LonePaladin]

Xandir watches the elf's retreating back, one eyebrow arched. Looking back at Ben, he says, "My, she's a pleasant one, ain't she?" He ties his weapons to a couple loose straps on his pack, then hefts the whole thing over one shoulder, straining a little. "Lead on, please."

[Black Plauge]

Shrugging his shoulders at the elf's departure, Blarth leads the way back to camp. He was getting hungry, and any food he had was still in his backpack.

The group back at camp is a somber bunch when Blarth, Ben, and Xandir walk in. Heading for his backpack, Blarth fishes out a spot of jerky which he begins to chew on contentedly.

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben watched as the elf left, but then shrugged and turned back to their rescuee. He offered to go with them, citing his desire to not become food for a monster. Ben could believe that, as he too didn't have any particular want to be someone else's dinner. Still he hesitated when he saw Blarth turn and start heading back the way they'd come.

Hadn't they just left the citadel of the Brotherhood not two days ago? Was this guy somehow related to them?

Finally he says, "Well, I suppose you could come with us. You can at least stay at the camp for tonight. After that, well," he gave a shrug of helplessness. "After that, we'll see."

He turned and started following Blarth's retreating figure back to camp, but stopped suddenly and turned back to the man, idle curiosity present on his face. "What's your name anyways?"

[LonePaladin]

Slinging his pack onto his back with a grunt, Xandir hastens to follow. Didn't I just tell him my name? Heck, I even introduced my cat to him. Guess he's got other things on his mind. "I'm Xandir, like I said. And I'd like to stick around, at least long enough to get out of this forest. I'll try to play nice with the others."

Arriving at the campsite, he hands the elf her waterskin, still half-full. "Here, thanks. I owe you." Taking a quick look around, he sees a wounded man, still wearing armor. "Ouch. Let me guess: the troll." His eyes can't help but wander up the pillar of rock, and he leans back as he looks at the top.

"Who's up there?" Xandir walks up to the pillar, giving the wounded man a reassuring (he hopes) pat on the shoulder. He gives the rock another once-over, then suddenly crouches down and pulls off his boots. Tying the laces together, he lashes them to his pack, then puts both hands and one bare foot on the rock-face.

Without hesitation, he lifts his other foot off the ground. Rather than fall on his rear, he stays anchored to the wall. Bringing his foot up to the stone, he moves one hand to a higher position, then the other. Without actually grasping the stone, he quickly ascends the rock, climbing up it like some sort of insect.

In record time, he's at the top of the pillar. Peeking his head over the rim, he says to the woman there, "Evenin'."

[Gralhruk]

Cadrius is spared from further interrogation when Nicos tells his little story. Shade's eyes narrow as he finishes, not really sure what the bard is getting at. Somehow, she feels that he's using the story to say something about her, although what that might be the veiled woman has no idea.

"Right."

Now suddenly seemed like a good time to take Blarth's advice and check out the area around them. She moves swiftly to the base of the spire and looks up, assessing the best route. Not the most difficult, but not easy either - especially when a mistake meant a long fall. Her opinion of Blarth rises. She tilts her head left then right and it cracks reassuringly. Without any other preparation, she sets her fingers in the fissure she is using as a first hold and then pulls herself up.

A short time later she is seated on the small plateau at the summit of the spire, sweating despite the cold. It had been a strenuous ascent but the view - and the solitude it came with - made the effort worthwhile. She breathed deeply and closed her eyes, savoring the moment of peace, trying for once to stave off the anger that seemed ever present these days. It hadn't always been that way. She used to be different - warmer, with a sense of humour and a love of life.

And what was she now? Jaded? Bitter? Maybe. But all because of one man's treachery?

When her eyes open they are clear but still thoughtful. The girl she used to be was gone and she wasn't coming back. That much was true. That didn't mean she had to be some callous thug, though. The future should be open to something different. Shouldn't it? Maybe, but it seemed like all her choices led her down the wrong path.

Her eyes continue to stare out at the horizon though she isn't really seeing it. Lost in thought, she doesn't even hear the man ascending until his head pops up over the rim.

"Evenin'."

Maybe it is her sudden bout of introspection, or maybe it's just surprise. Either way, she doesn't even start at this unusual turn of events - and, more surprisingly, she doesn't bother whipping out a sword. Instead, she simply returns the young man's gaze without any real expression. Her mind does the math without any conscious effort on her part and she knows he is what was behind that rock without really thinking about it. After a moment she stretches out a hand to help him up. Her attitude and voice are amiable.

"You're pretty fit for someone who's been trapped in a cave."

[LonePaladin]

The man grins widely at Shade's remark. "Thanks, I've always been pretty resilient. My stomach's gnawing on my backbone right now, but at least I won't die of thirst." He clambers onto the top of the spire; as he does, Shade's keen eyes note that his hands don't bear the trademark scratches and abrasions such a climb should have caused. To make things weirder, his feet are bare; his boots hang by their laces from his pack.

Sitting down next to Shade, he pulls his stockings back over his feet and begins to strap on his boots. "Name's Xandir. Just wanted to say thanks for the rescue. Kahlan -- that's my cat -- seems to like you, so I'll warn you now: she can get a bit clingy."

Shade turns to face him, arching an eyebrow. For the span of two heartbeats, he simply returns the stare. I have got to get a look at her in better light. Later. "How do I know, right? She and I are linked. I can tell what she's feeling, and the best way I could describe what she was sending me was... well, kindred, like a sister maybe. I got enough of an impression from her to round it down, that it wasn't the elf. Unless there's another woman with you?"

[Gralhruk]

Shade snorts and shakes her head when he thanks her for saving him. She had nothing to do with it; in fact, if it had been up to her he'd probably still be in there. The thought makes her frown.

"You can call me Shade. And no need to thank me; it was Ben who rushed to help you."

She watches as he laces his boots up, her keen eyes noting his unblemished hands, the unhurried rhythm of his breathing, the fact that he wasn't sweating. She arches an eyebrow at him, her thoughts already moving in a direction she didn't like.

Then comes the clincher: he is mentally linked to Kahlan, his cat. Hadn't they just fled a castle full of wizards? She doesn't bother voicing her thoughts - if he was a spy, he was a damned poor one. His question hangs in the air between them, Shade wondering what this was about and feeling less and less that he is an agent of the Citadel.

"Cats like me," she says almost absently, "I used to feed some strays. Maybe that's what she meant."

[LonePaladin]

Xandir finishes lacing up his boots. "No, I don't think it's simply her spotting a sucker. It seemed to be more like, oh, I don't know... like she found someone she can talk shop with.

"Yeah, I saw the look. Yes, I know magic, though it's not the fireball-slinging type everyone thinks of. Bookish snobs. Heck, I think I might know one trick that could hurt someone, and it's only a threat to small animals. The things I know are a little more... personal. You guys get burned by one of those self-righteous spell-slingers?"

Leaning back and looking upward at the night sky, Xandir sits perilously close to the edge of the precipice. Much the same way cats tend to sit in high places. Something about his posture indicates that he'd throw himself off the rock if the need arose.

[Shadowfane]

Surayon heads back to camp after her look around, she didn't see anything major, a few track, but nothing really to worry about. Coming into the clearing, she looks up, spotting both Shade and the new guy sat on top of the spire, seemingly talking quietly. She shakes her head, then gives a slight shrug - if people want to trust each other, she doesn't have a problem with that, she just doesn't intend to fall into the same trap herself. Moving to the base of the spire, she folds gracefully to the floor a few feet away from Cadrius, but after a quick look over him to make sure he's healing ok, she doesn't speak, simply looks into the distance without really seeing anything.

[Gralhruk]

Shade shrugs at his question. Had they been burned? Not in the literal sense, but they were currently on a fool's mission because of the self righteous spell slingers at the Citadel. Instead of dwelling on it, she switches back to his first comment.

"Talk shop? I don't know anything about magic, if that's what you mean."

She shifts, her eyes finding Surayon down below and misliking the elf's choice to stay near Cadrius. Shade's grey rimmed gaze turns on Xandir once again, her face expressionless behind the veil.

"What were you doing out here, anyway?"

[itches]

With Shade climbing the pinnacle of stone that marked their camping spot, Nicos took the opportunity to forage for firewood. Fiol was not entirely unkind, and it is several minutes later that the bard returned carrying a half-load of timber. Seeing Ben and Blarth returned to camp, he dropped the load and made his way over to them.

"So, I take it the trapped creature wasn't some sort of exotic cave-monster?"

[LonePaladin]

"What were you doing out here, anyway?"

Xandir chuckles, but it sounds a little self-conscious. "Running for my life, to be honest. I'd left Redmarch, oh, close to a week ago I think, and got lost. Picked a direction and started walking, and some troll decided to take exception to it. I have no illusions about my ability to take one of those things on my own, so I ran. Fell off the cliff back there, spotted a hole, scrambled in to hide... and ended up stuck.

"I'm glad you guys dropped by, 'cause my food and water ran out yesterday. I'd been sending Kahlan out to look for help, and she's none too happy about that. And by 'talking shop', I meant the sort of things that cats do."

It takes him a second to realize that last statement could be completely misread. "I don't mean things like licking their own butts and hawking up hairballs. More like sneaking around, sitting on high perches, doing whatever the hell they feel like. She thinks you're kinda like a cat, minus the butt-licking."

He stands up, brushing dust off his trousers. "I'm gonna go back down before I embarrass myself any further. You need anything brought up here?"

[Gralhruk]

Her eyes stay neutral, fixed on Xandir as he proceeds to put more feet in his mouth than a biped should have. Somewhere inside, though, she finds herself touched that Kahlan regards her as something of a sister. That kindred spirit is what prompted her uncharacteristic genorosity when it came to the strays in Woodhaven. Never one to advertise her feelings though, she lets Xandir think he's offended her. Her head swings slowly side to side at his question.

"No, I don't need anything."

It wasn't like she was planning on spending the night atop the spire. And she certainly wasn't stuck up here. As he departs, her grey eyes move back to the horizon and her mind slides back into deep thought.

[LonePaladin]

"No, I don't need anything."

"Okay," Xandir says, and steps off the edge of the rock. As soon as he clears the pillar, and before gravity can really have its way with him, he lets out a burst of air in a quick exhalation. At the same time, the power his action draws upon suffuses him, making his body and all of his gear extremely light.

A plummet that should have taken about half a second becomes a lazy downward glide that lasts about ten seconds, with Xandir gently landing on his feet in front of the injured warrior and the elf.

[Shadowfane]

Surayon looks up, eyes flat as she regards the human they rescued from the rock-covered hole.
"Be careful, or you may attract the kind of attention you could do without."

She goes back to staring into space, her ears filled with the sounds of screaming, of homes burning in an inferno, of distant voices crying in terror as a small, rustic temple burns to the ground... But she makes no outward indication that this is what she is listening to; it is, after all, what she has heard every night for the last year.

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben watched as Blarth went over to his backpack and started eating, but didn't say anything. Though they had eaten when they had first stopped, the incidient with the troll had caused Ben to drop his own meal half-finished. Add on the fact that the two of them had just moved a fairly large boulder, and it was understandable that he was hungry.

Then he watched as the newcomer, Xandir, did something and started crawling up the monolith as if is hands and feet had some sort of sticky glue on them or something. Ben remembered the newcomer's spell component pouch, so wasn't terribly surprised at the strange phenomena. He decided that he'd practice a bit with his sword and shield.

He didn't feel so much that he needed the practice as he needed something to do. Blarth was content in eating it seemed, Cadrius was trying to rest and recuperate (or at least should be trying to), and Shade and Nicos had both disappeared. And the elf had gone off to do her own thing, so Ben was left to do as he pleased.

He moved over to his backpack and lifted up his shield, examining the few minor scratches it had gotten from his fall before strapping it to his arm. Nothing too serious, so he finished strapping it and then clenched the handles firmly with his hand, as he had been taught. Then he moved over to where he was a small distance away from the others, so as not to endanger them with his sword, then reached to touch the handle of the weapon.

The leather straps that helped one grip the handle were the original ones from when the sword had been made. But despite their age, the leather was not worn, merely faded in some places. Ben slowly drew the sword from its strap at his belt, admiring the soft scrape of the blade against the leather. Originally, the sword had had a scabbard with it, but Ben had quickly gotten rid of it after receiving the sword. He thought it was better if the sword remained visible even at his belt, for it was simply too well-crafted to be hidden away in a scabbard.

The sword was a work of art. The handle was fairly standard, with a cross hilt and pommel gem, and no apparent artwork in it to speak of, but the blade was the true masterpeice. Small figures were etched into the blade, all of them about an inch tall, and most of them wielding some sort of weapon. On one side, the figures were famous heroes, all of them reknowned for their skill with one or more weapons, and how they used those skills to help others. On the other side, the figures were infamous villians, also ones who had been reknowned for their great martial prowess, but who used those talents for their own benifet.

Besides the figures though, the blade was also suburbly balanced. Ben had once held the flat of the blade on one finger right where the blade and the cross-hilt met, and the sword had hardly wobbled, so perfectly balanced it was. Ben wondered how the smithy who'd made the sword had accomplished that, whether through some exotic metal or through simple skill. Regardless of how it had been made so well, the result was plain: whomever wielded the sword could move it slightly faster than they would a normal sword.

Yes, the blade was a work of art. Too bad it was the art of death.

Ben stared at one side of the blade for a moment, then quickly thrust forward with the weapon. Then he swung the blade out and pulled it back near him, as if slicinging the blade out of the side of whatever creature he had just impaled. He continued with his swordplay for a bit longer, then bring his shield up and practiced attacked while the shield was interposed in front of him. Then he started shifting the shield about quickly, as if blocking multiple blows, shifting his feet for the best stability when blocking. He continued for several more moments, not even noticing the elf's return so engrossed he was.

He stopped when Nicos spoke up near him. He lowered his sword and shield, then turned too look up the monolith the stranger--no, Xandir--had climbed up. "No, wasn't a monster or anything," Ben finally said after a few seconds of silence. He turne to the bard though, something like confusion mixed with helplessness on his face.

"But, well...I dunno, maybe it would have been better if he had been one. He had a spell-component pouch, and just a few minutes ago he climbed up that rock. His hands and feet acted like they were all sticky and stuff, and he just crawled right up there, like some kinda spider. It might be nothing but--"

Just then he noticed movement up at the rock and he stopped talking to watch as Xandir jumped off the rock. Ben was about to shout out something, then the man's fall slowed and he started floated down through the air as if he was a feather or something. Ben looked over at Nicos, gauging the one-armed man's reaction, then simply shook his head. Ben didn't know a whole lot about magic, except that some of it hurt, a lot. In the "make you dead really fast" kind of way.

Deciding that he probably shouldn't get involved, Ben returned to practicing with his swords. He started with the thrust again, and soon was back to blocking imaginary blows and stricking imaginary opponents.

[itches]

"This region seems to be absolutely infested with mages," Nicos said quietly to himself as he watched the stranger float down through the air.

Having observed the light landing and noticing Ben had returned to his weapon drills, Nicos gave a small shrug and set off to collect another half-load of firewood.

[Black Plauge]

If he thought about it, Xandir's magical stunts would have probably suprised Blarth a little, after all, he hadn't seen anyone perform such feats since childhood, but since he was eating, and not thinking, Blarth merely takes note of them. While neither was a trick he had ever mastered, both were well known in his tribe and not worth the suprise and shock the others attached to them. Heck, he even had a couple of spider tattoos that would allow him to duplicate the climbing feat if necessary.

Finishing his mouthful, Blarth takes note of the small pile of firewood that Nicos has been collecting and gets up to help out. Blarth's two arms would allow him to collect far more firewood than Nicos' one arm.

[LonePaladin]

Xandir starts to respond to Surayon's admonition, but sees that she went right back into her thousand-yard stare, and thinks better of interrupting her. He sees one of the strangers take a long look at the small bundle of wood nearby, then start walking off. Setting his pack down to lighten his load, Xandir hastens to follow him.

"Hey there," he says when he catches up, "want a hand?"

[Black Plauge]

"Sure," Blarth replies, "Nicos means well, but with only one arm we'd be here all night while he collected firewood. We get a two or three loads to supliment what Nicos collects, and we'll have enough to last through the night."

Finding a dead standing sappling, Blarth grabs hold with both hands, and after some effort, rips it from the ground.

"Standing dead wood makes the best fire wood," Blarth explains, "If you pick off the little banches for kindling, I'll take care of the main fuel."

[Gralhruk]

Her mouth turns down in distaste as Xandir floats from atop the spire, sinking slowly down like a pebble dropped into the ocean. More than ever she is convinced this mission is nothing but trouble. Drawing her knees up to her chin, she feels the cold cut through her like the edge of a knife.

On the ground below, the others move about their various pursuits and she wonders idly if this is how the gods view the world. If she had their might, who would she smite and who would she save? Her eyes stare without blinking, unconsciously reminiscent of the feline of your choice. It was better that she didn't have that kind of power. It was better she just stick to the shadows and worry about herself.

Somewhere, a murdered dwarf rolls uneasily in his grave.

[LonePaladin]

Glad to have something to do other than lie in a cramped cave, Xandir takes to the task with enthusiasm, if not talent. Wandering back and forth through the trees, he breaks off branches that lack greenery, dropping handfuls of twigs onto the steadily-growing pile.

Within half an hour, he's got a fairly large armload of kindling, and is completely worn out. Signaling his intention to the half-orc, he stumbles back to the campsite, drops the pile of wood near the existing supply, and gratefully collapses. As his cat comes over and gets herself comfortable on his legs, Xandir quickly falls asleep.

[Shadowfane]

Abruptly shaking her head, Surayon breaks out of her almost trance-like state and looks around - it is night, and at least one of the party is deep in sleep. Tilting her head back, she sees that Shade is still atop the spire, and decides to rest, trusting that the woman can handle first watch. Drawing her legs underneath her, she clears her mind and sinks into the reverie that passes for sleep amongst her kind - at least for the next few hours, her mind will not be full of the troubles of her past and an uncertain future.

[itches]

The sun crept towards the horizon as was the way of things and the companions settled into the camp for the night. With the plethora of new faces trust was at a minimum, and the rest was an uneasy one - to which they each reacted in their own way. Nicos took it upon himself to tell a darkly humoured tale of pair slave's attempt to escape from bondage, and their eventual ultimate misfortune. It did not noticeably help the situation.

Still the night passed, and the sun rose brightly, ignorant of the tensions that were cultivated while it hid below the horizon. The camp rose early, and after some small delays the companions were on their way. The morning's travel was completely without notable incident, and with the sun a quarter of its way across the sky they arrived at oasis at the base of the mountains, about a day's journey from the entrance to the tomb that held the mysterious Rune-Stone.

[itches]

The night had not been an easy one for Nicos. Sleep had only come slowly, and his dreams had been filled with the touch and smell of a red-haired temptress. Dawn came with its normal glory, and Nicos awoke red eyed and foul minded.

The morning's hike however, improved his disposition and so it was in this state that they happened across the oasis. Standing on the top of a small incline that lead down into the dell that held the water source, the bard could clearly see the handful of bodies scattered around. Though too distant to tell any details, they were clearly humanoid and intelligent.

"Well," he said to no one all who cared to hear. "This look like it will get interesting."

[Gralhruk]

Shade spends far more time atop the lonely shard of rock than she had intended. Night has long since donned it's blue-black shroud. Down below, a small fire burns and some of the others have already turned in. She stretches, her shoulders stiff and fingers numb from the cold. The climb down suddenly seems like a harrowing proposal, but there is no one to blame for that except herself.

After another minute of stretching her limbs feel looser, though the numbness has not really retreated from them. Beneath her clothing, she can feel her skin prickled from the cold. With a deep breath, she lowers herself over the edge and concentrates on making it down without breaking her neck.

The climb turns out to be easier than she expected; maybe the interlude at the Citadel had done her some good after all. In the camp, the first person Shade runs across is Surayon. The elf is wide awake and looking for all the world like she was ready to continue the journey right now. After an uncomfortable exchange, it is a agreed that Surayon will take the next watch. Nibbling some dinner, Shade puts her back to a small rise at the edge of the circle of light from the fire, far enough from the others to discourage conversation. Drawing her knees up to her chest, her grey eyes follow the dancing flames until she falls into an uneasy sleep.

***

Nearly 24 hours later she finds herself looking down on the small oasis the wizards had told her would be here. The relief that they hadn't lied about its existence is somewhat dampened by the westernly rays of the sun burning dejectedly along the bones of several humanoids. Cursing, she lowered her veil and looked around at the others.

"I'm going to take a closer look."

[LonePaladin]

Xandir scratches his head; why all the bones? "Want some backup?" he asks Shade.

[Black Plauge]

Looking down at the oasis, the sight of the bodies distubs Blarth. Loosing the club from his waist, Blarth nods to Shade, "We'll wait here for you. Yell if you need us."

[Shadowfane]

Surayon gives the oasis a careful look-over, ignoring the bodies for now - after all, its hardly the first time she's seen te site of a battle. Carefully going over the ground, she finally catches sight of what she was looking for - a dusty, half obscured set of tracks leading down into the oasis. Dropping into a crouch, she examines them closely - although she can't guarantee it, they do bear a resemblance to the tracks she was following when she met up with the rest of the party. She shrugs, coming back to her feet again, only time will tell, she thinks.

Pulling her bow around in front of her, she nocks an arrow and glances over as Shade announces her intention to do some scouting. "I'll keep an eye out; if it isn't you, it's dead..."

[itches]

Dropping his pack to the ground, Nicos looks over to Shade.

"Three's better, is something nasty jumps out. Lead on, oh shadowy one."

[LonePaladin]

Xandir points at Shade. "That would be her, right?"

[itches]

Grinning, Nicos nods.

"Aye, that would be her."

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben frowned at the discovery of bones at the oasis. Really, it shouldn't be that unexpected. It was an oasis, so lots of animals and creatures were drawn to it for the same reason their
group was: water, food, and whatever else they couldn't get in this mountain wasteland. Thus, it was natural stalking grounds for predators, not all of whom would be patient enough to drag their prey off to eat in relative peace. Of course, it was also obvious that these bones didn't belong to the typical animal. And not all predators came in the shape of beasts.

Men were perfectly capable of hunting each other after all, or anyone else they though might make good prey.

He looked over at Shade and shrugged. He had better stay behind to watch Cadrius. The others should be able to take care of themselves, especially with the elf giving fire support with that bow of hers. But whoever stayed behind had to protect the injured warrior, is case this really was an ambush point. He probably needed Ben more than Shade did right now.

[Cadrius]

Cadrius scowls at the honor guard left behind, scowls at Nicos' departure with Shade and Surayon, and he scowls at his wounds. Yet the bard taunts him not to keep his face in such a state of displeasure lest it freeze that way. Cadrius replies with a scowl.

His wounds were a fair sight better than yesterday, but it will still be some time to come before he's well again. The skin itches unbearably but Cadrius resists the urge to rub at them. The bandages were just changed and he didn't want to risk opening any wounds, cauterized or no.

The fallen paladin regards his companions, one at a time. Blarth is Blarth. The half-orc is kindly enough, if a bit daft at times. Yet he has a stout heart and hasn't wavered despite the hardships. He knows virtually nothing of him, but that's more than the others.

Ben has moved from the least trustworthy to something else. The young man has many secrets, but then again, who doesn't? Would he be so eager to stand guard over Cadrius if he knew of the murders? Cadrius doubts it and he wouldn't blame the man if he left then and there. The man shifts uneasily, his eyes scanning the land for any threats.

Surayon is precisely what Shade is, with a set of pointed ears and likely another century's worth of trials under her belt. The elf is just as dark as his long-time companion. He finds the similarities eerie and he wonders, does Surayon know of a tall elf who slew his brother and beloved? And if so, what happened to him? Cadrius doubts elven justice is much kinder than human law is.

And there's Xandiir. Of all those present, Cadrius mislikes him the most. His seemingly casual treatment of magic sets the fallen paladin ill at ease. His first instinct was to send him to the Citadel. It would be just like Gemoud to slip a spy into their midst. After all, if this task is true, and not simply a death trap, they will not trust a rag-tag group of outsiders to return their precious artifact.

"Dead by an oasis. I will not be drinking the water there," he says, speaking to no one in particular.

[LonePaladin]

"Can't say that I blame you," Xandir replies. "This place gives me the creeps."

[Gralhruk]

Shade holds Surayon's gaze for a moment and nods, pointedly ignoring Nicos and Xandir's comments. Instead, she draws the veil over the lower half of her face and lowers her eyes to the ground. This was a hard land, not given to holding a trail for any length of time. Even here at this water source where traffic was likely as high as it got there were few signs to be seen. And those that were present often overlaid one another. Doubtless things would be both clearer and harder to read down by the muddy edges of the spring itself.

Loosening her blades in their scabbards, she starts to circle down staying at first wide of the central clearing and the bodies. Gradually she spirals closer, until they finally reach one of the outlying corpses. Dead for a while - exactly how long was hard to tell, but the flesh had been picked clean from what was left of the carcass and the hair had mostly fallen out. The leather that remained of the armor was cracked and dry, but it could have been that way while the man was still alive.

"I'd say a month, but it might be half that or twice as long. It's dry here."

She kneels next to it, examining what's left. Likely every scavenger in the area had already had a go at it, but that didn't change the fact that it had been ravaged by something large. Bones were snapped and crushed, the armor itself was torn with large pieces missing.

"I can't tell what killed it, but there don't seem to be any weapon injuries. Something big has been at it, though."

As they circle around to the second corpse, there is a brief, rumbling growl along with a flash of tawny fur as 15 feet of lion flies through the air at the scouting party.

[itches]

As the large cat pounced out at the trio, Nicos stepped backwards letting out an exclamation of surprise. At the same time, as if by magic, his dagger made its way to his hand and spun out in a blur to slice a bloody line across the feline's belly.

[Shadowfane]

Surayons watches as Shade slowly circles around the oasis in a gradually tightening spiral, frowning slightly to herself - something wasn't quite right here, her ranger-trained senses were screaming at her for no obvious reason. She looked around again; a wide clearing, a water source, the bodies... then it hits her - she can't hear anything. None of the natural sounds that might be expected in such a place - the birds attracted by an easy water supply, small mammals, nothing. Even so, she misses the dire lion at first, the flash of movement catching her eye as it lunges toward the group. Although surprised, her reactions are as swift as they ever were, her hand blurs to the quiver at her shoulder, and in a split second an arrow is launched, thudding into the animals hind-quarters with an audible smack.

[Gralhruk]

The tawny body cut through the air beside Nicos, his drawn dagger tracing a red line along its flank, Surayon's arrow slamming into the beast with an audible thunk. If the mass of muscle and fur felt either it certainly didn't show. Shade had only the briefest glimpse of the huge head bearing down on her, fronted by ivory fangs as long as her fingers. She jerked sideways, the blades springing into her hands, dodging the deadly bite by the barest of margins but unable to avoid the great cat's rush.

She went down under the weight of the assault, feeling razor sharp claws dig into her shoulders and slide lower even as the beast raked her legs with its hind talons. In an instant she was drenched with blood, gasping through the pain and watching her life flash before her eyes. Anger sustained her, a burning substitute for the blood soaking her clothes. Another instant and it would surely clamp down with those massive jaws and that would be the end of her.

She drove her sword forward with all the strength she could muster, wielding them like a butcher, hoping to force an opening through which she might escape. She felt it balk, not sure if the blood soaking her hands was her own or the lion's and at the moment not caring. Her counterattack provided the brief respite she had hoped for and Shade rolled back to her feet, clear of the beast but clearly the loser in the encounter.

<OOC: Took 34 damage (ouch!) but managed to do 12 damage in return.>

[LonePaladin]

Xandir's reflexes kick in before he's fully conscious of the threat, sending him into a diving roll across the dust. As he scrambles to his feet, he sees a couple hundred pounds of muscle driving the scout into the dirt. Blood is all over, and it's hard to tell the source. Kahlan peeks her head out of the top of his pack, hissing and spitting to beat the band.

With his left hand, he pushes the cat's head back down, while his right hand grabs a length of chain strapped to his pack. As he yanks it off, he gives it a quick whipping motion, and a series of metal spikes spring out on hinges. Using the momentum, he brings the whip-chain back, out to the side, and forward.

The chain connects just as Shade manages to scramble out of the lion's way, and the wickedly-barbed links wrap around the lion's neck. They don't stay there long, as Xandir gives the chain a yank, pulling it as hard as he can. The length of chain constricting the lion is abruptly pulled back, sliding barbs and spikes across the lion's throat.

The lion roars in obvious pain from the gash, a nasty cut Shade gave it, and an arrow in its flank. Blood drips from its midsection, and it's clear it's reconsidering these interlopers as a serious threat. As a counterpoint, the smaller cat riding in Xandir's pack forces her head up again, and lets out a mean-sounding yowl.

[[ Critical hit on a sneak attack for 16 points. ]]

[Black Plauge]

As the lion rushes Shade and the others, Blarth's eyes are drawn away from the bloody mess of combat to a quiet disturbance in the grass near by. Looking carefully, Blarth catches a glimpse of the creature's mate, circling around to catch the prey from the rear.

"There's a second one!" Blarth exclaims to the others on the hill. Heading down the hill, Blarth knows he can't reach the mate before it will be in position to spring on the scouting party. "Behind you!" he yells, hoping the others will turn in time.

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben watched the others as they explored the oasis, unable to shake the bad feeling the presence of bones had brought, despite his own rationalizations. So it was that he should have seen the large beast, should have noticed it sneaking up on the other group. But he was shocked when the creature sprang into the scouting group, shooting past Nicos onto Shade. The twang sound of an arrow being released from a bow, cries from below the hill, and Blarth's shouts accompanied his own gape-mouthed expression.

Training took over where cognative thought did not though. By the time Blarth started moving, shouting out a warning to the ones by the oasis, Ben's sword was drawn and in his hand. Blarth's warning meant that Ben saw the other lion stalking the scouting party as well, and again training kicked in.

Can't get there in time. Draw its attention away from the others.

Swearing at his lack of a bow of any kind, he started running full speed after Blarth, shouting back at the elf, "Shoot the other one!" He didn't even spare the effort to grab his shield, it still being strapped to his backpack which lay atop the hill.

[Cadrius]

Cadrius watches the scene play out in a deadly slowness. The great cat rushes forward and pounces, clearing the last dozen feet in a mighty leap and it and Shade go down in a tangle of fur and blades and death. He finds himself holding his breath as Shade struggles for her life and this time there's nothing Cadrius can do to save her.

Surayon's bow thrums as an arrow is drawn, notched, and loosed in the blink of an eye. Blarth takes off with an unnerving speed and Ben follows suit. Cadrius, though, can do little but move forward at something faster than a trudge. His armor weighs him down and his wounds hurt him terribly. The bastard sword slides from its sheath and he readies his shield, but he can already tell he'll be too late. He always has been.

[itches]

Watching as the lion finished its pounce and land on Shade, Nicos desperately tried to pull himself back from the extended throw. The others move in an almost single motion, Xandir wrapped a chain weapon around the cat's neck, pulling the creature off Shade. The blood flooding the woman's cloths was observed and noted, but the emotional impact had not set in yet - there was no time.

Settling his weight on his back foot, the bard's hand drifted to his sword hilt preparing to draw it and press the attack to buy Shade extra room to escape.

Hearing the warning from Blarth, Nicos continued the turn out of instinct, seeing the new threat rapidly approaching in the form of a second lion. A quick glance revealed the rest of the companions charging, but too far to be of any help for the next few critical moments. Using the momentum of the turn, the one-armed bard took a few quick steps forward, his hand moving away from his sword hilt to stretch out open palmed to cat charging down at them, as if to tell it to stop.

Shouting a few nonsensical words, a great blinding flash leapt from the bard's outstretched hand, leaping out towards the lion, and then disappearing just as quickly, leaving only retinal impressions to mark it's passage.

[LonePaladin]

Xandir hated fighting. Especially when deadly weapons came into play, any battle would invariably turn into a chaotic, scrambling mess, full of uncertainty and pain. He had learned how to wield a very unusual weapon -- a ten-foot length of chain, laden with spikes on cleverly-designed hinges -- to give himself the advantage of reach, an edge on taking away others' weapons or knocking them down, and because it simply looked intimidating. Besides, most people who were considering hostilities with him would rethink it when they saw the weapon.

But here was something that couldn't be disarmed, would prove hard to pull off its feet, and didn't give a rat's ass what he was holding. Despite the chain driving spikes into its neck and shoulder, it still managed to pull against him, just catching Shade in the calf with a fang -- a nip, but still pretty bad -- and rake her hip with one claw.

He fought to keep some degree of control, putting all his strength into tugging the cat around. He wasn't the strongest combatant, though. The cat he'd managed to get on the business end of his chain was a lot stronger than he. The end of his chain was still partially looped around the beast's neck, and it almost yanked the rest of it out of his hands. Letting it fall off the lion's shoulders, he gave his end a quick whipping motion, causing the other end to flail about in a tight circle and lash across the cat's face.

More blood splattered on the ground in a half-circle, as the lion's head is whipped around to face the thief. For just a second, the creature's attention is on someone other than Shade.

[[ OOC: The lion bites and claws Shade for 11 points total. Xandir hit AC 17 with a sneak attack for 13 points. Lion is flanked, get 'im. Unless someone wants to do otherwise, the cat will likely go for Xandir next. ]]

[Shadowfane]

Surayon swears viciously in Elvish as she sees the other lion. Taking her attention from the other beast, she pulls two arrows from her quiver, stabbing one into the earth before raising the other to her bow. Letting the first arrow fly, she snatches the second from the ground and lets fly before the first even hits. The first arrow merely scores a bloody line acroos the creatures flank, but the second slaps firmly into the creatures hindquarters, burrowing deep into the muscle. Surayon yells in Elvish in an attempt to distract the lion further - she doensn't know how well Shade will do against the first one, but she won't have a chance if the second lion enters the fray as well.

[[OOC: Used rapid shot feat - 2 hits, 1 for 3 points of damage, one for 8]]

[Black Plauge]

Seeing the first lion take a vicous swipe at Shade that seems to eviserate her through and through, Blarth changes his direction of motion slightly to reach Shade. The second cat would have to wait for the moment.

It, however, has other ideas, or rather, it would have, were it not for the bright flash of light that Nicos shines in its eyes, temporarily disorienting the large beast.

[Gralhruk]

Despite the hammering the beast took from the others, its green eyes remain fixed icily on Shade. She meets the gaze unflinching but inside she knows that now is not a good time to be stubborn. Though she is squeezing with all her might, the hilt in her right hand still feels like it is sliding out of her grip.

Back off, before you get yourself killed.

Behind her, she hears Blarth's yell but ignores it. This cat would kill her first and so it deserved her full attention. Nicos, Xandir, and the others - even Surayon - had risked their lives to bail her out of this mistake. Her mistake. Running would be wise, but she wasn't going to run.

The beast is clearly readying itself for another attack and she tries to keep her swords in line, but she can't seem to hold them steady. Blood decorates the ground beneath her like crimson rain, droplets spattering down like tears. The pounce once again comes with terrifying swiftness and she dodges, but her injured body is too slow. She is halfway to safety but it makes no difference: hip and leg are snagged by the barbed weapons of the lion. She barely feels the teeth that rake her leg, but the claws in her gut burn through her body like spikes of acid. The world takes on a dimness, time slowing with each passing instant. Grim to the last, she makes no sound, still trying to launch a coherent attack with her ruined body. Her limp form hits the ground and rolls once, a silvery object flying clear, and then settles on its back.

Grey eyes stare up at the sun, tears streaming from them, wishing only for the strength to close their lids to the bright haze. The tears slow as light blurs into darkness. Nearby, a silver locket emblazoned with the lightning fist of Hieroneous shines painfully bright in the light of the wasteland sun.

[red_dr4g0n94]

Damn he's fast. No matter how much Ben ran, that half-orc kept pulling farther and farther away from him. As a couple of arrows flew over their heads, there was a sudden flash of light from the lion they were running for. Ben didn't know what it was, but he didn't think the lion had done it. At least, he hoped the lion hadn't caused it, because if it had, then they might be in really big trouble. Magical constructs were a bitch to fight from what he'd heard. And they didn't seem to be doing too well against two relatively mundane Dire lions.

Well, ONE dire lion. The other one wasn't moving, maybe blinded temporarily by whatever flash of light that was. Which wasn't really a good thing, since they had only been fighting one lion, and the second one probably wasn't going to wait too long to help its companion. He had to get its attention. A few seconds, a minute, anything. On his peripheral vision, Ben saw Blarth stop where Shade was, by the first lion. Shade was lying on the ground, not moving, which was definately NOT a good sign. The second lion might decide to finish her off, or eat her if she wasn't already dead.

Ben gritted his teeth. He didn't have his shield. Just his sword, his chain-link shirt, his wits, and whatever determination he could muster. This was probably going to hurt, might even get him killed. But that was why he'd become an adventurer, to help people.

Wasn't it?

Ben cried out, the sound emerging from his throat more a primal roar of challenge than an actual war cry, "RRAAAAAAAAAAAAARRRRGGGGHHHHHH!!!!!"

Disoriented it may be, but there was no way the lion couldn't hear the sound. Which was the point, but the lion probably wouldn't guess that. It turned and roared out a challenge of its own, slashing with its claws as spots in its vision apparently made it hesitant to use its deadly fangs. The two of them connected at the same time, Ben's sword now gripped in both hands, swinging upwards and cutting through the tough fur on the lion's chest with the tip of his blade. The claws on the lion's paw got tangled in the armor, but the paw itself still connected quite well, and the leather padding under his armor wasn't nearly enough to soften the large cat's brutal strength.

Ben went flying to the side several feet, while on the lion a line of red appeared on its chest where the sword's path had gone, stopping just short of its jugular. The sword probably hadn't gone deep enough to actually slice the vital artery, but it didn't matter now. Ben hit the ground but quickly rolled back onto his feet, sword still clutched in two hands before him, facing the now combat-ready beast. Ben hadn't heard the sound of broken bones when he'd landed, but his ribs were complaining about the swipe just the same. Looked like he wasn't going to get out of this fight unharmed like the one with the troll yesterday.

[OOC: Ben does 17 damage to the lion, lion returns it with 12 hit points to Ben. Hopefully he has its attention for a turn or two]

[itches]

Ben and Blarth had arrived, with the still injured Cadrius close behind which improved Nicos' assessment of the situation from suicide to stupidly dangerous. In the space of 2 days he had faced a troll and a brace of oversized lions beside his companions, and the bard was beginning to question the wisdom of deciding to travel with them. Then again, if he hadn't he wouldn't have met Gemoud, and that one experience more then made up for blood - luckily so far none of his.

Digging through his repertoire, Nicos began to mutter several obscure words, his eyes fixed above the lion now playing tag Ben. As he quickly reached a climax, the sound of a lion roaring a mating challenge erupted from the empty air above the over-sized feline.

Even as the sound grew, the bard fought to contain a grimace. It wasn't anywhere near as loud as he had hoped, but it still might be enough.

[LonePaladin]

"A little help here would be nice, y'know!" Xandir yells frantically, as the monstrous lion turns its attention away from Shade's supine form and focuses on him. Wary of the deadly chain he wields, the lion actually hesitates for a second, then pounces on the rogue between swings. It manages to rake a claw across his chest before he can bring the chain back into play. Catching the free end of the chain, he closes the ends together, swinging the rest like a large, barbed flail. The chain drives its spikes into the lion's face, and it falls to the grass, panting heavily, out of the fight... for now.

Letting one end of the weapon loose again, Xandir jogs a few steps past the one-armed man, closing in on the other lion. "Okay, a little help over there would be nice!"

[[ Lion 5-foot-steps and hits Mr. X for 8 points, taking an 8-point hit in return. Lion is at negative HP now, thankfully. ]]

[Black Plauge]

Bending over Shade's prone form, Blarth wills the tattoo on his right bicep into a semblance of life. Anyone watching would see the tattoo crawl down his arm and transfer itself to Shade before dissapearing out of sight under her armor. A few moments later a strange film seems to envelope Shade momentarily before sinking into her skin, bridging the gaps in her flesh left by the lion's claws.

"Stay put," Blarth says, as Shade begins to come round, "That lion didn't do you any favors and the healing tattoo I used on you is not nearly enough to repair all your wounds."

[OOC: Transfer an activate a Body Adjustment tattoo. Shade is healed of 12 points of damage.]

[Shadowfane]

Surayon pulls another arrow out of the quiver at her shoulder, swiftly drawing, nocking and raising the arrow to her cheek. The first lion is lying on the ground, presumably out of the fight for now, so she switches her attention to the second one just as it cuffs Ben and sends him flying backwards.
Warriors. Warriors and their insistence on standing in the way of things.

Surayon aims carefully, letting the air out of her lungs; then she stops breathing entirely. The world seems to slow to a crawl as the arrow leaves the bow - she can see the lion turn its head towards where she stands, and watches as the arrow hits the animal in the eye, plunging through and into the socket.

The world comes back with a rush, and Surayon hears a shriek of triumph echoing over the lion's agonised roars. It takes a moment to realise that the sounds are her own voice.


[[OOC - critical hit on the second lion, 18 points of damage]]

[red_dr4g0n94]

The sound of another lion's roar, along with someone shouting over the din of combat, reached Ben's ears, along with the lion's. It turned to look where the roar had come from, and in that split second an arrow pierced into its eye. Underneath the sound of its painful roar, one might be able to hear the sound of the other lion's monstrous body crashing to the ground, but Ben was too busy concentrating on his foe to hear it. An arrow in its eye, several scars across its flank from other arrows, and the red line from Ben's earlier attack should have dropped a normal person, and not even the troll yesterday had taken this much hurt and kept on going.

The lion seemed to consider its options, pausing for a split second as its one good eye bore on Ben, all alone with the lion between him and his companions. Ben gritted his teeth, expecting the worse from this beast, and the lion didn't seem to intent on disappointing him. Letting out a roar, it turned and lept at him, claws and teeth bared. Ben threw himself to the side, trying to hold his sword out to feebly block the beast's claws, but the massive lion simply landed where he had been and kept running. The long, loping gait of the massive cat would have been graceful to Ben, if his ribs hadn't complained when he landed on the ground, just as it whooshed by him. In the blink of an eye, the only sound of the beast was the rustling sounds it made as it fled.

[itches]

In the post battle lull, Nicos stood still taking stock of the situation, hearing his seemingly overly loud breathing, and feeling his skin tingle from the magic he had just cast.

Ben was covered in more then a little blood, some undoubtable his. Shade was down - but awake and absolutely drenched in crimson. Even Xandir has a growing red stain on his chest. Giving a sigh, the bard walked over towards where his dagger lay in the dirt, rasing his voice as he did so.

"Alright, how badly is everyone hurt?"

[LonePaladin]

Xandir lets his chain drop to the ground. "Oh, I'm just fine, thanks." His face suddenly gets extremely pale. "Mind if I just lie down for a bit?" His legs collapse beneath him, and he slumps to the ground, breathing a little too fast.

[Gralhruk]

The feeling of falling, down a dark well, her hands and feet skimming sides like slick mud.

A cold swell in her gut, radiating outward like the pulse of an ice flow, numbing her body in exponential degrees with each passing beat.

A single disk of light far above, rapidly shrinking to the tiniest pinprick, and then darkness, sweet darkness.

It is all over. Finally over.

The thought had barely finished its short course to this audience of one when she hit bottom with force enough to rattle her mind and shatter her body. Grey eyes opened to painfully bright sunlight and a half-familiar, half-forgotten, half-orc face. He says something that doesn't register with her. She rolls on her side, a thin rattling noise coming from her chest as she exhales. The pain that wracks her searingly comes in waves that coincide with the beat of her heart.

Alive and I don't ever want to move again are the two things that go through her head.

And there, on the ground in front of her, is a silver pendant. Her eyes go wide and she rolls to her stomach despite the pain, reaching out with her right hand to cover it. With an effort consisting mostly of will, she shoves herself to a standing position, picking it up and thrusting it into her cloak as she does so. Her voice is ragged.

"The lions?"

In the post attack disarray, her shredded cloak happens to be a poor container. Unbeknownst to her, the little locket on its silver chain slides through one of the gaping rents now present in her cloak and puddles onto the ground behind her.

[Black Plauge]

"One fled, the other in worse shape than you," Blarth replies.

"You really shouldn't be moving. The power of the tattoo was insufficent to heal you completely. If you're not careful you could easily strain yourself."

Standing, Blarth goes over to the heaving form of the lion. At his approach its eyes flutter open, probing widly for a moment before focusing on Blarth. As the two make eye contact, the lion's labored breathing changes a little as it tries to shift its own weight. As the attempt fails, however, a resigned look enters its eyes. Even with its mate to tend it, it would stand little chance of recovery. Here, amongst the enemies that had brought it down, its life was forfeit.

Taking his club, Blarth raises it above his head and brings it down quickly on the lion's head, putting it out of its misery. Blinking back a tear, Blarth wipes his face as if to remove a splatter of blood or dust to cover it up.

Hefting the lion's body over onto its back, Blarth takes a dagger and begins to gut and skin it.

[itches]

"Well, looks like we're going to be here for the next few minutes," Nicos muttered to himself. Turning to look up at Surayon, the bard yelled, "Surayon! Go make sure that thing isn't just trying to circle around us or something. And be careful."

Turning back in time to witness Blarth's butchering of the large creature, the bard couldn’t help but wince in sympathy.

-And now we pretend that I know how to heal people- Nicos thought as he moved towards Shade and Xandir lay. -I can only deal with one person at a time, so first up we deal with who looks the worse; the ever-fun-loving Shade.-

Dropping into a crouch next to the woman, the bard raised an eyebrow at her condition. "No offence, but you've looked better. I'm going to have to take a look at those wounds."

[LonePaladin]

Xandir rolls over onto his back, trying to steady his breathing, get some color back to his skin. "Trolls, hungry lions, what's next?"

[itches]

Shooting a grin at Xandir, Nicos responds. "Next you get the memorable experience of having me patch you up."

[Shadowfane]

Surayon moves back, circling the area and picking up the lion's trail easily enough - it leads due south, straight away from the oasis, not deviating or slowing, the tracks far enough apart to see that the lion is in headlong flight. Taking a quick glance around the area - she could do without any more of those kind of encounters for one night - she heads back to the others, her breathing slowing and calming as the bloodlust too slowly leaves her.
Walking back into the oasis, she looks quickly over the others. Shade looks to be in the worst shape, with the new man and Ben a little better.
Surayon glances over at Nicos, the inflectionless voice returning, "If you don't need me here, I'll go make sure we aren't surprised again."

[Cadrius]

He's always been too late. Be it his sword arm, his legs, or his mind, Cadrius has always been just a little late when life is on the line. This time, however, a life will not be on his hands. The others present were swift of mind and body. Shade lives and so too does Cadrius' conscience.

The fallen paladin stops short though as he sees a glitter of silver in the dirt. He frowns and then stoops to return the item to Shade.

[Gralhruk]

Shade grimaces at the information the others blurt out. Healed, by Blarth? Somewhere it even makes sense, as she recalls the way they found him on this same plain days ago, but for him to help her . . .

Well, she did not feel good about the way she had treated him. Somewhere, too, is the realization that she owed her life not just to Blarth, but to them all. That was Surayon's arrow in the creatures flank, and Xandir looked about as bad as she felt. The feeling fell somewhere between respect and revulsion. A wave of dizziness hit her and she sat down, feeling every bit as though she had just been pulled back from the brink of death. Beneath her clothing, she knew she was still bleeding and her right arm didn't want to move.

The aches and pains didn't matter as she saw Cadrius stoop. She felt frantically for the item she had just hidden, but it was gone. Nicos was crouched next to her, effectively preventing any move she might make. Then she saw the puzzled look on the former paladin's face and she dropped her own eyes.

[itches]

Frowning as Shade looked past him, Nicos followed her gaze to where Cadrius was hovering nearby.

"Ah," the man said as if he suddenly came to an understanding. "I tell you what; you don't look like you're going to die in the next few minutes so I'll check out Xandir and Ben."

Rising, the bard left with a nod to Cadirus, taking the steps necessary to stand over Xandir. Pursing his lips Nicos formed the frown which had been settling into his face too often in the last few minutes.

"Let me help you out of that tunic," he said. "I gauge your wounds."

[Black Plauge]

Carefully slitting the great beast's hide down the center of its chest and stomach, Blarth recites a traditional hunting prayer as he does so.

"Gruumsh, let the strength that filled this worthy advisary flow into your mighty servant."

Removing the guts from the now open lower abdomenal cavity, Blarth continues the prayer, "As I discard the remnants of its bodily life, take its spirt up to serve you."

Carefully cutting free the heart and testicles of the great creature, Blarth takes a large leaf from one of the nearby trees and carefully wraps them.

He then makes quick work of removing the rest of the skin. A cut around the neck. Another down the inside of each leg and around the paw. A careful flencing of the outer layer of fat and meat away from the bulk to preserve the skin.

Budling up the skin, Blarth leaves the now naked corpse. The fresh kill would atract any predators or scavengers in the area once the party had left. Except maybe for the lion's mate. In anycase, as long as they were down wind from the carcas, they would be relatively safe from attack tonight.

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben sat there, not moving for a few moments after the lion had apparently run off. He was still panting, just staring at the point where the giant cat had disappeared. But a pang from his chest made him grimace, pulling him out of whatever reviere he had been in. He sheathed his sword back on his belt, then slowly started removing the chain-link, his ribs complaining with each movement, dictating his slow movement.

He could feel the warm sensation of warmth moving down his side though, and he needed to check to see how bad it was. He looked at his shirt, which had a couple of minor tears in it now, it was covered in blood along most of his right side, but he couldn't tell how much of it was his. Pulling that off too, grimacing as a particularly fierce pang went up and down his torso, he opened one eye and looked down at the source of the blood.

It wasn't really that bad. Like he'd though before, the beast's claws had gotten tangled in his armor, but apparently it had still given him a couple of cuts a centimeter or two deep. Judging from the way the blood was just now trickle down to his waist, he was pretty sure they should just turn into scars and wouldn't be life-threatening.

Another pang in his chest reminded him that he hadn't just gotten a couple of flesh wounds from the lion. He wrapped one of his arms around his chest, hoping to relieve the pain somewhat, and rose up, grabbing his shirt and chain-link garb. Not necessarily limping, but not moving as fast as he should, he eventually got over to where Nicos was kneeling over that knew guy, the magician Xandir.

"Anything I can do to help," he asked to one-armed bard, hoping that this newcomer's wounds wouldn't require the same methods that Cadrius' had required yesterday.

[itches]

Looking in Ben's direction at the question, Nicos involuntarily winced as he caught site of Blarth gutting the Lion.

"See if you can help him remove the tunic without killing either of you. I'm going to get my pack, it has what little healing gear I posses."

Turning his back on them, Nicos lightly ran up to where his discarded pack lay.

[LonePaladin]

Sitting up wasn't too bad. That wound on his side felt like little more than a scratch. As he undid the buckles at his sides, he barely felt the claw-mark. Then he lifted his arms, reaching to pull his armor off... and the pain hit. It was a glancing strike, but those claws must've dug deep. Fighting off a wave of nausea, and certain that his face showed it, he quickly grabbed the back of the leather coat and yanked it over his head. Fresh blood flowed from the wound, just below his ribs. One of them felt like it might've cracked from the impact.

Tossing the armor to the ground, he said, "Nothing a good bandage can't fix." Then he fell back, again fighting to resist the urge to pass out.

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben nodded to Nicos as the bard got up to go get his supplies. He turned to see Xandir unbuckling his armor, wanting to help but realizing that he might just make the wound worse if he did. Better to let the man who could feel his injuries take his own garb off, if he could. The other man was obviously in pain, small gasps escaping from his mouth as he almost ripped his armor off.

Ben smirked at the magicians comment. "A bandage and maybe a few stitchings more likely, but unfortunately for you I'm not a seamstress," the warrior responsed. "Now roll over so the injury is facing up. You don't want dirt to get into your wound." He layed his shirts down and moved to help the injured man to roll over, but another pang from his rib made him gasp and crings as he stopped for a split second to let it subside.

He opened an eye a second later and looked down at Xandir. All that blood, he might go unconscious any second now. He didn't know if Nicos would want him awake or not, but it would probably be easier to let him drift into darkness than have to wake him up later.

"Well magician" Ben said, trying to keep Xandir awake. "First a troll, now a pair of lions, all of them bent of eating us it seems. I think, perhaps, you may just be a good luck charm. For the animals, I mean."

[LonePaladin]

"Great," Xandir replies, wondering why Ben kept referring to him as a magician. "All I need is a little tenderizer, some herbs and spices, and we're all ready for the menagerie. You planning on at least cooking me first, or should they just settle for me raw?"

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben smirked at the man's morbid humor. At least he was a little more light-hearted than the rest of this lot seemed to be. Of course, it only reminded Ben of his own dark stains.

"I wouldn't know personally," he said as he glanced over at the hill, "but maybe you should ask your cat that, since its sort of related to lions. Maybe it can tell you which makes you taste better."

[LonePaladin]

Xandir looks over to his discarded pack. Kahlan sits on it, completely focused on washing one paw. Xandir curls up his lip, saying, "She says I'd be tough and stringy, even if I were cooked all the way, and not worth the effort of chewing. Thanks a lot. I wonder if there's a way to smell tough and chewy, so that anything else we run into won't want to eat us?"

As Ben finishes his bandaging, Xandir looks over to Shade. "How's she doing?" As if in response to his concern, Kahlan hops off the pack, trots over to Shade, and sits in her lap. She begins purring loudly and kneading Shade's thigh.

[Gralhruk]

Hoping to avoid any questions from Cadrius, Shade decides to examine her wounds. Thanks to Blarth, her insides aren't leaking out of her stomach anymore. However, his healing seems to have done little or nothing for the other injuries she had sustained. The armor on her shoulders had protected her from the worst of the clawing - it will need repairing, but she knows she would have been dead without it.

Both her shoulders are punctured and her lower thighs and knees have long, precise incisions thanks to the razor sharp claws of the lion. That is far from the worst of it, though. Her right arm has been sliced to the bone near her elbow; luckily the beast's paws were so large that only one claw was still in contact at that point.

Gritting her teeth, she stares carefully pulls at the edges, looking to see if anything is trapped inside. Satisfied, she pulls out a small flask of alcohol. It would keep the wound from festering, but it was not going to be pleasant. Her grey eyes find Cadrius.

"Will you do the honors?"

She hands him the flask as she pulls a small dagger out of her belt. She bites firmly on the hilt and waits.

[Cadrius]

The locket hangs between his armored fingers, the silver of the chain shines all the brighter against the dust coated steel. It sways back and forth from an ever present wind. It's cold out in the open. Given their elevation and the season, Cadrius wouldn't be surprised to see the first flakes of snow soon. Yet the dryness that permeates the landscape suggests that it might not happen after all.

His eyes remain fixed to the small bit of silver. It and his blade used to be the only two things that kept him going. Now he wonders if it ever really belonged to him. No, it belongs to a dead man. This Cadrius cares naught for it.

"A thing like this"--he holds the locket out for Shade to take--"is easily broken. Do be careful of it."

He takes the flask in one hand and winces as he kneels. His wounds will be a long time in healing; if his eye is any judge, Shade's will be the same. They're clean enough, given the circumstances, but they could be cleaner. The oasis nearby may well serve.

"It may be better to boil this first. It will hurt more, but there will be no chance of festering."

[itches]

Nicos finally returned with his pack once more strapped to his back, and a vial of something murky in his hand.

"Here," he said holding it out to Xandir. "Drink this and it will help you heal. It also tastes vile enough to distract you from the pain - which is unfortunately the best I can do for now."

[Gralhruk]

Her grey eyes fix on the silver pendant Cadrius holds out. As grateful as she is that he doesn't make the moment uncomfortable, she can't help but wonder at his motive. Did he want her to have it or did he just not care anymore? And if he did, what did it mean? That he parted with it so easily somehow made it less meaningful a thing, but her left hand reaches up and closes around it anyway. Shade notices that their fingers never touch during the exchange.

She grimaces at his suggestion, but nods curtly. He was right: this was not a wound to fool around with. She'd be lucky to have full use of it again and if she wasn't lucky . . .

Well, Nicos was an unwitting reminder of how it might turn out. She grinds her teeth and looks over to where Blarth is eviscerating the carcass.

"Help me up. That smell is making me sick."

[LonePaladin]

Xandir takes the vial, looking at its contents suspiciously. He looks up at Nicos. "Is this magic? If so, you might want to hang on to it, in case someone needs some quick help."

[itches]

"Drink," Nicos said waving away the objection. "I have other recourse if it comes to that, and you are not so well off yourself to turn away what aid is offered."

[red_dr4g0n94]

"He's right," Ben said to Xandir. He looked up as he saw Shade and Cadrius, and in the background Blarth was skinning the now dead lion. He quickly looked back down at Xandir. "You aren't really in any position to decline, so you might as well just drink it."

[LonePaladin]

Shrugging, Xandir said, "All right, all right. I'm outvoted." He removed the cap from the vial and sniffed the contents. "Ugh. Smells like the inside of a blacksmith's glove." Holding his nose with one hand, he tipped the contents into his mouth with the other, forcing himself to swallow without tasting.

[itches]

Watching as Xandir finished drink the vial, a distressed look suddenly appeared on Nicos' face.

"Wait! Was that the potion or my vial of, uh-"

[Shadowfane]

Moving quickly, she soon leaves behind the clearing where the party are now holed up, following the tracks of the lion Surayon moves closer to its lair, a shallow cave set into a nearby hill. She can't say why she feels the need to come here, only knows that this is something she must do. Ghosting silently to the entrance, she cautiously looks inside. The second dire lion is lying inside, obviously in some distress. As Surayon slips inside, the lion catches her scent and heaves itself around, and the state of its injuries becomes apparent to the elf. The arrow she fired has worked its way further into the skull of the beast, and causing obvious distress. Gaining in confidence, she moves forward. The lion makes no effort to stand and challenge her - indeed, it seems unable to.
Leaning forward, Surayon stares directly into the eyes of the lion, glowing purple orbs inches away from amber ones. Something passes between them, unknown to both the elf and the lion; maybe the lions recognition of the greater predator, maybe an unexpected feeling of kinship between them, maybe even something as simple as mercy. Whatever the source, an almost pleading look seems to appear in the lion's eyes, and Surayon responds. Moving forward and drawing a long knife from a sheath in her boot, she takes a single step and plunges the knife into the beasts throat, severing the artery and stepping back as blood sprays into the air, painting her arms crimson almost to the elbow. Crouching down, she watches in solitary witness as the lion slowly fades and dies, then turns, leaves the cave and heads back to the oasis, completely unconscious or uncaring of her bloodsoaked arms.

[Cadrius]

Cadrius nods curtly and offers a mailed arm to Shade's good hand. She's uncharacteristically clumsy as she pulls herself to her feet and leans heavily against him. Blarth's talents, whatever they may be, were lifesaving, but they weren't miracles. Her injuries are still dangerous, but perhaps she'll be spared the pain of fire. Boiling alcohol won't be pleasant by any stretch, but Cadrius reckons that it will be better than a red-hot dagger.

He sees Surayon stalk away from the others, likely following the other lion. Once again he's struck by the fluid grace of movement that is so similar to Shade's own. Again he wonders if perhaps somewhere he also has a melancholy twin, who spends his morose days wandering beneath barren trees. No, he's heard tales of elves simply fading away in the face of overwhelming grief. Any twin of his would have left this world years ago.

The two make slow progress but reach the oasis after a few minutes. His shoulder is burning fiercely by the time he lets Shade slump back on the ground. He pauses a moment to catch his breath and let the pain subside before producing the flask once more. Fire. He'll need wood for a fire.

Up here, however, there's very little in the way of plant life. There are a few stunted trees living by the small pool of water, but beyond that, only the occasional doughty shrub marks the landscape. They won't burn particularly well, but they'll have to do.

"Wait here," he says, taking a pull of his waterskin before offering it to Shade. "I'll be back."

Drawing his dagger, the same one used to end the lives of three men in Karkas, Cadrius leaves the oasis.

[LonePaladin]

"Wait! Was that the potion or my vial of, uh-"

Xandir gives the one-armed minstrel a look filled with daggers, the finely-honed typed with serrated edges. Feeling the liquid he'd just swallowed begin to stitch the wound in his side closed, he suddenly opens his eyes wide and makes an urp sound, leaning forward slightly as if he's going to retch.

With a sardonic grin, he tells Nicos, "Nice try. If you're actually carrying... that... in a vial, I really don't want to know why. I still think you should've given it to the scout, or saved it for something more critical, though." With a flick of his wrist, he tosses the empty vial toward the bard. Inclining his head toward Shade and Cadrius, he asks, "How're they doing?"

[itches]

"Shade's pretty beat up, I'm about to go force some Nicos-style healing on her," Nicos said, grinning at the look Xandir had just shot him.

"What about you?" He asked of Ben, cocking an eyebrow. "You don't seem to be dripping puddles of blood."

[Gralhruk]

Shade keeps her eyes fixed on the still surface of the water as Cadrius moves away, trying not to consider the task he was about. Almost dead. That's all she can think. Almost dead because of a muddy little patch of ground.

For one brief searing instant she had felt for sure that it was over, that her life was ended. She was wrong, of course. But if she had died, what then? Her left hand found a pebble and she cast it into the water, watched the ripples spread out. Everything would have gone on. The rest of them would have continued after the stone and retrieved it. Or not. Just like they'd gone on after itches died.

In the larger scheme of things, it just hadn't mattered much. The ripples vanished, with nothing to show they'd ever been or what they had touched. Everything she did and everything she was were ultimately so small as to make no difference at all. Whether she lived today or died, in the end it would all be the same. Her good hand reached beneath her cloak, pressed the small silver lump of the amulet against her stomach.

If nothing mattered then why not go looking for death? She wouldn't, couldn't. Shade knew she'd hang onto life with every shred of her being, that no matter what happened or what the odds were she would not give up. She wasn't made that way. Death would find her one day, and he would take her - there was no way around it. But on that day she'd be sure to give him a scar to remember her by.

[LonePaladin]

Xandir picks himself up, wincing just a little as newly-mended flesh flexes. He walks to the edge of the pool, sitting down next to Shade, and shrugs off his pack with obvious relief. Just as the knapsack hits the ground, a black and brown cat squirms out of the top flap, and jumps into Shade's lap. Refusing to budge, the cat starts purring loudly and kneading the woman's thighs.

"So," Xandir says, looking over the water, "what are you guys out here for? You're obviously heading toward something."

[Gralhruk]

Her eyes find Xandir with sudden, terrible focus. The bloody arm that lays across her lap twitches slightly, bringing a hiss of pain between her teeth. And then, as the cat lands in her lap, the anger seems to wash out of her. Her good hand rubs the fur between its ears absently.

"Toward one thing is away from something else. We're trying to recover something these damned Citadel wizards lost. And judging by the bodies we found here, I'm thinking that maybe we aren't the only ones to come looking for it."

The grey eyes find him again, this time softer than before, but now firm rather than angry.

"If I were you I'd take my chances with the desert. At least you know what you're up against."

[Black Plauge]

Finishing with his some what grisly task, Blarth wraps up the bloody hide of the lion and heads for the oasis. Following the dry drainage stream towards the water, Blarth find the first spot where there is enough water to submerge the hide, and puts it in the water with a couple of rocks on top to keep it sumberged. Immediately the water around the hide turns red with the blood that soaks out of the fur, and for a moment, the untrained eye might think that the red area would spread to contaminate the entire oasis pond. The logic of Blarth's choice in placement, however, is soon enough apparent as the blood stays contained near the draining end of the pond. The nearly imperceptable flow of the water from the pond out into the desert seeing to that.

After washing his hands, Blarth joins Cadrius in the search for fire wood. Well, burnable brush really.

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben looked at Nicos, his face possessing an expression that showed clearly he was trying to decide if his survival chances would be better or worse if he told Nicos. Finally he shrugged, wincing from the motion. "Nah," he said as Xandir rose up, "I think my armor stopped the claws from going too deep, its really just a trickle." He pulled his now blood smeared hand away from the two scratches on his side.

"The problem is with my ribs though. That was one strong cat, and my ribs are complaining from when it knocked me around like a yarn ball. I don't think anything's broken though."

[LonePaladin]

"If I were you I'd take my chances with the desert. At least you know what you're up against."

Xandir barks a short laugh. "You have no idea. I'm not the sort to go traipsing about the wilderness; only reason I ended up out in that forest was because staying in town wouldn't've been the wisest of career paths. And look at me, I'm scrawny. I wouldn't survive a week out here alone -- if you guys hadn't turned up, I'd've proven it. It took me less than three days to get hopelessly lost, one to end up stuck in a hole in the wall, and three more days to get out of it. Do you really think I'd have a chance out here without help?

"With my luck, if I did go out there alone, I'd end up finding another hole to get stuck in." The image of himself, buried in the sand up to his neck, comes unbidden to his mind. It takes an effort to stifle a laugh.

"Besides, Kahlan's really taken a shine to you, and I won't take her away from a friend. If you really have to justify it, how about this: we managed to take down a lion in record time together." He unconsciously puts a hand over the gash in his armor. "Granted, it wasn't quite fast enough, but we can work on that."

Xandir scratches his chin, thinking for a moment. "Almost makes me wish my talents included something harmful. I mistrust wizards as much as the next guy, but you have to admit that one could be useful in a tough fight... as long as you don't turn your back on 'im."

[Gralhruk]

I don't turn my back on anyone.

She looks him up and down and gives a woeful snort. Her left hand has clamped around the wound on her right arm, blood oozed thickly through the fingers.

"You don't think I mistook you for a woodsman, do you? And I still said you should pick the desert over us. That ought to tell you what I think we've gotten ourselves into. It's no different than the guild was: we're just a tool for them. If we get the job done, they wash their hands of us. If we die trying, they find another tool tomorrow."

She shifts her seat slightly, scuffing one heel in the dirt. Dust rises in a small cloud.

"You still think that's something you want to be a part of?"

[LonePaladin]

Xandir rocks back. "Let me make sure I understand this. Someone who doesn't give a rat's ass about you has sent you out to get something you don't want, from someone you don't like. Sounds a lot like my last job.

"And if you're needing to sneak something out, that means you're going to need someone who can sneak in to get it. I'm pretty good on the stealth category... but, unlike you guys, I could get into spots that none of you could reach. Far as I know, that is.

"Once you toss in the fact that you guys saved my life, that cinches it. It sounds to me like I might be able to help you get this widget or thingamabob and keep your hides intact. And it's gonna be a damn sight more interesting than getting lost, and maybe eaten by something in the middle of nowhere. So, no, Lady, I'm gonna come along for the ride and help out."

He looks at the cat in Shade's lap, which has curled up into a sphere of fur. "Besides, I think a little fur-therapy might do you some good."

[itches]

"Okay," Nicos said to Ben. "In a more civilised environ I would push the issue. Then again in a more civilised environ you wouldn't be stuck with me to heal you."

Rising and making his way over Shade and Xandir, the bard is in time to hear Xandir's comment.

"Well it's certainly friendlier then the last cat that took a liking to her," he quipped. "Speaking of which, I need to heal you Shade."

[red_dr4g0n94]

Ben didn't say anything to the retreating bard cum medic, instead just watching what their little group as a whole was doing. Cadrius was heading away from the oasis, Blarth was finishing whatever with skinning that lion, Shade and Xandir were talking to each other, Nicos heading towards them, while the elf had disappeared.

And here he was, on the outside looking in. Not really wanted. That had been the reason he'd become an urchin. Even the underworld hadn't wanted him though, and probably hadn't missed him when he'd gotten picked up by the mercs. He wondered if even they had wanted him. If they had, they wouldn't anymore, even if they were brought back somehow. All of the groups and travelers and caravans that he'd been with since then only wanted him because he could protect them. And now, here he was with a group of other adventurers, and he was in exactly the same position.

He wondered if that was some sort of divine punishment for his actions. He would always be an outcaste, someone who could never belong to anything and was just along for the ride. If it was, he couldn't really blame the gods for leveling it against him. He, of all people, probably deserved it.

It probably didn't matter why it was like that. He could probably think of a thousand and one reasons if he thought long enough, and it wouldn't change the fact that is was how it was. Perhaps he would go insane from it all, if you thought like Jonathan di--had. He'd told Ben once that humans were social creatures, the reason they always congregated to towns and cities and traveled in groups. It was more than just a simple survival measure, it was a way to keep their sanity intact. Or something like that. Ben hadn't really been to interested in Jonathan's philosophical debates, more inclined towards the sword lessons that Rocky and Dorndrum always practiced.

Speaking of which...

Ben looked over at the hill were he and others had waited at, where their backpacks still lay, his shield there glinting in the sunlight. He should probably go grab it and fill up his waterskin. Actually, he should probably get all of their backpacks and drag them over here, since this was likely to be the only place they'd be getting some fresh water for a while. With his rib aching though, he didn't particularly enjoy the prospect of taking them all over here by himself.

"Hey Blarth," Ben shouted out to the half-orc as he rose up from his sitting position, "if you're finished with that lion, why don't you help me grab those backpacks and carry them here."

[Black Plauge]

Looking up from the pile of brush he'd been gathering at the sound of his name, Blarth responds, "Backpacks, right."

Making his way over to where most of the backpacks were dropped, Blarth starts by picking up his own, and then gathers up the one's Ben has left for him.

[Shadowfane]

Coming back over the ridge, Surayon finally rejoins the group, walking close to where Ben and Blarth and heading, but not really seeing them - her face has an introspective look, as if her gaze is concentrated on something inside her. Walking over to the stream, she kneels gracefully, and begins to slowly wash the blood from her hands, wrists, and arms, murmering softly in Elvish. The cadences have a prayer-like quality to them, and the motions she makes cleansing her skin almost ritual in form.

[Gralhruk]

Shade shrugs at Xandir's decision, still not liking his insistence on including her in his list of rescuers. Nicos saves her from further discussion in that direction, though. She nudges the cat off her lap and nods to the bard when he mentions healing her. Her eyes glance around for Cadrius, find him still absent. Her nose remembers the smell of burnt flesh from the bard's last healing session. She answers woodenly.

"I'm ready."

[itches]

After taking inventory of the wounds, Nicos rocked back onto his heels to consider the options. Cauterization rose first, but the bard's mind quickly shed away from the idea. Even if it were to do more good then hard - unlikely with the collection of wounds adorning Shade's body - he would be unable to face another assault like that so soon.

Settling instead on another idea, Nicos collected a small amount of the blood from the woman's still weeping wounds and quickly depicted a series of indistinct characters near each of the wound. Examining his work once he is finished, the bard judges it passable then returns his attention to Shade's face.

"You, uh, might want to bite down on something," he said, adding under his breath "I've never tried this before."

Grasping his hand gently around the wound on the woman's right arm, Nicos began to chant. A familiar unsettled feeling gathered in the bard's stomach as the arcane energies gathered. Increased the tempo oh his chanting, attempting to bring in more, the hairs on the back of his neck stood while the muscles under them began to twitch.

Feeling his body reach his limit, Nicos suddenly changed chant and felt a line of fiery pain shoot down his arm. Gritting his teeth against the fiery sensation, the bard grips Shade's arm in a painfully tight hold. The chant continues for 5 long seconds, then 10. Half of an eternity pass before 20 seconds arrives. 5 more seconds crawl by before the man begins to slur his words, and as suddenly as it started the spell ends.

Letting go of Shade's arm with a gasp, Nicos fell backwards onto the dirt, flexing in own arm as the sensation of pain fades away.

[Gralhruk]

Vivid memories of the bard's healing techniques prompt Shade to heed his advice and she quickly bites down on the worn leather grip of her dagger. As his chant begins, she feels nothing but a slight vibration, mildly disconcerting but in no way painful. As the ritual reached it crescendo, all of that changed. Fire shot into her, centered on the the points of his blood-etched runes.

It didn't stop there. She could feel each and every fiber of bone, muscle, and tendon as it grew and knit together. The injury itself had been exquisitely painful, but after the initial spike, the pain had been manageable. This was different. Time seemed to stop as her accelerated healing torturously rebuilt her flesh, each instant a complex web of excrutiating pain.

The world swam and she felt as though she were surrounded on all sides by barbed spikes, hammered relentlessly by thousands of individual agonies. It went on and on, until the only solid point of her existence was pain.

She hardly even realized when it was over, for long moments still frozen in place, the dagger gripped so tightly between her teeth that she bled. Finally she opened her eyes, flexing the fingers of her injured arm. Remarkably, it felt better. Her jaw cracked as she opened it, teeth marks deeply imprinted on the dagger hilt.

"Thanks. I think."

Her voice was hoarse, croaking. Shade rose, nodding to Nicos, her eyes betraying more appreciation than her words.

"I'm thirsty."