Glowing Tree

Diana

LOOK HOW CALM SHE IS
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Romance, Supernatural, Fantasy, Thriller, Space Exploration, Slice of Life
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CHAPTER ONE; THE JOURNEY'S TRUE BEGINNING



"Something MUST be done. It is time we show the Kings of Feldagard what we can do. They will bend before our might and quake at the power in our command. We will demand peace and this world will finally be at ease."

"And if you fail, Arhazorel?"

"We will not fail."



Zahra stepped out of her tent, rubbing her wrist with a hand in an absent, thoughtful motion. Around her were several other tents. Some with shared occupants and some with a single soul. Tonight was the start. Any might assume the start of her quest began the moment she found the book. A brown leather bound tome, barely larger than her hand. A golden tree leafed on to the cover with the brilliance of something made just yesterday, instead of something that might possibly be one of the oldest books in the world. It was currently tied neatly with a strap, hanging from her belt along with the rolled up scroll she used as a guide map. The scroll was also something peculiar. The few that managed to catch a glimpse of it's contents could not decipher the glyphs and runes. Everything appeared to be gibberish. More oddly, taking a second glance the image would change. Never seeming to be the same contents twice.

But the book and scroll were not the things she was concerned with now. Zahra's eyes scanned the camp, taking note of the collection of people now preparing to wind down for the evening. She had asked them to get to know each other. Be familiar with their traveling companions. The nature of journeys often came with tests of loyalty and dependability - if you could not trust your companions, you were sure to die. With a quest to seek out a tree of such important legend... these people did not know what they were soon to face.

A few paces away was Lahras, tending to the one task she had given him and making sure her donkey was fed and tied. It was peculiar to her how he appeared so shortly after she procured the Book. Being so young, she wouldn't had allowed him to come along... but... Well, the secrets of Lahras would have to wait.

Zahra strayed away from her tent, seeking out one of the party members in particular. Darius, John, nor that Bard Rovan would be of use tonight. Human warriors could swing their weapons and their fists, but when it came to more effective protection, they didn't do the trick. The others all had hints of magic here and there, being beasts born from it that was to be expected. Save for the fairy who had lost her power all together. Yet, they didn't have that little spark that would be necessary...
 
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"You need to work hard for Zahra. Zahra is a nice lady and she wants you to help her, so you need to work hard and not complain about the food." Lahras spoke in serious tones to the donkey while he filled a basket with hay and started brushing off the dirt that had accumulated on the creature in the previous day of travel. The donkey sniffed the hay and turned it's head to the side, towards Lahras as he vigorously rubbed the flanks of the stubborn animal.

The boy sighed and stopped brushing while shaking his head at the donkey. "I know it's just hay, but we don't have any carrots, and you have to eat. If you don't eat, Zahra might send me away." Whether the donkey understood the boy or not, it brayed once and turned it's face towards the basket to start eating. A broad smile appeared on the youth's face and he began rubbing the brush over the donkey again, his eyes half closed and humming a strange tune.

A few minutes later, Lahras was strolling through camp at a leisurely pace. As he came upon the the small bonfire in front of Rovan's tent and noticed the bard sitting there cross-legged with the lute in his hands, he stopped and started listening to the soft sounds coming from the instrument. He closed his eyes, and in his mind the leaves started rustling in a counter-melody to the lute, the wind started soared high and fell low, it's whistling in tune with the mans unskilled fingers. Even the ground joined in with deep rumbles far below, drumming together a rhythm for the grand song. It lasted for a very short eternity, before the lonely cry of a far away eagle fell in line with the final note of the song and ended it.

The young boy walked to the warrior-bard's little camp site and sat on the ground opposite of him with a daft smile on his face, his eyes reflecting the fire and adding a little of their own as he looked the man in the eye. "That was a pretty song" he whispered, loudly. He then grinned widely and leaned over, nearly tumbling in the fire before he could recover himself. Lahras' grin reduced to a shy smile and he looked into the fire instead of the man's face as he added. "Play another one?"
 
Around the edges of the camp, the lone black figure slinked and slid, crouched low to the ground on all fours. Her tail was tied as a belt around her waist. Her boots were elsewhere. Safe, of course. Although she enjoyed wearing them, there were times a cat needed to feel the earth between her claws. She was a silent shadow on the prowl, at times moving, at times freezing with such adruptness she might have been struck by something.

The other members of the party were resting or perhaps doing patrol work of their own. She didn't care. It wasn't like she was interfering with them so it was little concern to her. Whenever someone passed, she would stay still until they had passed. Then she would slink forward. She had been doing this for quite sometime. Maybe a few hours. She had spied people doing all kinds of things from pissing to eating and drinking and talking.
 
The methods of battle and warfare passed onto me by my ancestors dictate that one must train with his weapon at least once a day.

I must become one with this weapon; it must be an extension of my arm itself.

Spinning the blade reflexively as I move away from my tent and into the open, I begin with a few sweeping attacks; the spear's long blade whirls in a brutal arc, striking into the ground and hacking up the dirt. I whirl about and snap the weapon back before launching it forwards into a quick thrust. The blade comes to a sudden halt outstretched in front of me, and I hold the position for a moment, exhaling.

A few manoeuvres like this would be adequate training.

But in times such as these, 'adequate' isn't good enough, I feel.

Bringing the blade over my head in another twisting arc, I use this momentum to throw the weapon into a powerful sweep in front of me, loosening my grip as I do. My hand slides further down the grip of the spear, extending its reach even further, before I bring it back around for another swing. My free hand grabs the shaft again and pulls the spear into the vertical slash, the blade embedding itself into the ground again.

This continues for another ten minutes. I hurl myself around the area I have set out for training, slicing and swinging at imaginary foes. Finally, I return the spear to my tent and take a quick breather before wandering into the main part of our small party's camp, my ravens resting atop my tent. Near the trees is the cat-woman, Lirin, no doubt keeping watch or something. She seems distant from the rest, I've noted; must be a feline thing. The young boy, Lahras, sits before the bard's tent, watching the man play away at his instrument.

Grabbing my jacket from my tent, I stride over to the pair. Solitary training is all well and good, but training with others is much better practice. And I distinctly remember Lahras stating that he wants to learn to be useful on this quest of ours; learning to fight would be an excellent start, and I'm sure there's plenty Rovan and I could teach him.
“Don't suppose you two would be interested in more training?” I ask for what is only the third time tonight, “Practice makes perfect, after all!”
 
The pale form of Rethil would be hard to miss: the horse-sized dragon would only ever be on the opposite side of the camp as the monster hunter... It was no secret that the man frightened Rethil even more than the journey. His hair would rise and his body would quiver at even a glance from the man. As such, Rethil offered the man respect in the form of letting him be: his cowardace prevented him from simply talking to the slayer, and being on the same side offered little comfort.

All those gathered had some form of combative skill, while Rethil was barely able to call himself a dragon. His flagging confidence expressed in his drooping shoulders and mournful expression. The mere-dragon felt most comfortable around the innocent and the herbalist... The young boy tagging along seemed more interested in Rethil than frightened, and the lovely centaur had been terribly interested in his plant magic. She had asked him to create specific plants for a while after they met... While Rethil had little idea what they were by name, an apt description from the centaur allowed him to replicate the plants asked for. Rethil had been pleased with himself, there.

As it stood, he inspected his current work... Moving the canopy to guide the campfire smoke to other areas of the forest, dispersing to as not to attract airborne predators. It had been challenging work, but he managed to complete it. Vines and branches moved under his whispered commands, words in the divine language he could not translate... The spells of old taught to him and experimented with. The whistling, "wind in the leaves" quality of the spells gave it a strange air of ancient wisdom - far enough from the truth of Rethil to be laughable.

Satisfied, he nodded... Resting on his belly, tucking his legs underneth him: he kept checking on where the slayer was in nervous habit... He longed for someone to speak with, but with everyone else entertained, he lay there with blank thoughs and a blanket expression... Without much thought, he moved to a second project: mumbling the words into being, a ring of purple-blue flowers began to rise. Their smell was strange: holding a presence, but still faint. Rethil hoped it would mask scent from landbound predators... Every once in a while, the large creature would look over his shoulder in a nervous manner, look to the slayer terrified eyes, then return to his 'work'.
 
We were fellows strange and outcast, but with our cause a common home. My memories of that first night are distant now, but I remember feeling ghostly, as if not quite there. For in the company of dragons, cats and fairies I was like a dreamer or an infant lost in bedtime tales. And though the stage was set I lingered awhile with those weird and wondrous shapes...


From the Diary of Darius Castablane​


Darius wound the bandage carefully around his knee, pinning in place the moss that Arothi had given him. The Centaur had noticed his limp as they made camp and had left the salve in his tent while he collected firewood. Not a word had been exchanged. Arothi must have understood his need for dignity. He did not want the others thinking him less able.

He winced as the bandage pulled tight around the old wound. But he was smiling. For across the camp he saw John and Rovan inducting young Lahras to the ways of combat and camaraderie. It was a reflection of Darius's own past, decades ago as an exiled teen on the road with the Knights of Endril. Two of the older paladins had put a sword in Darius's hand then laughed as they sidestepped his angry swings and clonked him with the flats of their blades. It was the start of a brotherhood and of a path that would see him transform their ridicule into respect.

Precious moments, when glory and adventure were promises around the corner. He wished he could join them now. But John's previous display had made Darius feel all the older... all the more out of use...

He was running out of time. This quest would be his swansong... his final stand for the things that mattered.

In the next tent along, there was a waft of smoke as the dragon adjusted the canopy. The creature had been working on its spells for quite a while, and Darius had already detected the tension between it and the monster-slayer. Rethil had told them all his story, and Darius understood well the fear that gripped the young dragon.

With a smile, the paladin got up and tested his weight upon the bandaged leg, before heading over and watching as Rethil crafted purplish flowers from the earth. The paladin was unarmed, in only his tunic and with his holy symbol hung around his neck. And as Darius clutched the symbol he felt again the goodness that held in this dragon's heart. Keeping his voice soft, he studied the cuts and burns upon the creature's back - a tapestry much like his own. "It is funny, my friend, that the two healers should have the most scars."
 
Arothi slowly made her way back to camp, having been out hunting and gathering for her tonics and the groups evening meal. She had struck it lucky in this area and caught three foolish rabbits as well as dug up plenty of wild root vegetables and edible fungus. She had also found a few healing herbs here and there which she could use in her tonics. She would have to ask Rethil to grow more of it however, since most of the herbs were small and lacked much of what she needed. She entered the camp quietly and looked around, her eyes glancing over the tents and travel companions.

She did not have a tent and rather preferred it that way. She had been sleeping in the rain and under the stars all her life, why would she suddenly change now that she was around different people? She wandered over to a simple mat that she had laid out to mark her resting place and went though one of the larger bags which carried the cooking supplies. She pulled out a large knife before tossing the sack onto her back and wandering over to the camp fire were Rethil and Darius rested.

"Evening Rethil, Darius, I hope both of you are well, yes?" She asked politely, her eyes landing on Darius for a moment of questioning before looking away. She knew better than to speak her curiosity out loud.

She sat down upon the ground while the sack, rabbits and herbs, a small sigh of tiredness having slipped past the centaurs lips before she lifted the knife to begin her work with gutting the rabbits. She was always working, weather it was taking care of a hungry group of centaurs or a band of traveling adventurers. Her role was always that of a mother, which almost made her laugh since she had yet to even consider having a relationship with any male at all. She turned to Rethil with a smile as she cut into the first rabbit, showing him a rather scraggly looking weed of sorts.

"Rethil, could you grow more of this for me? It is a very important ingredient in one of my tonics which I was planning to make tonight but I was not able to find enough."
 
IC:

Annalaey was the quite one among the group. She observed from the tree top as she sat there instinctual, it didn't concern her much but her attire did seem in appropriate around some people of the opposite gender. She had taken upon herself the night shift to watch guard while others would go to sleep and rest, she did not have a ten of her own and she liked it that way. Just above the bonfire where most of her comrades were she sat in the dark of one of the closest trees. Quite as a mouse, some would think she vanished in her heart she prayed and old prayer. The Vierr race prayed to the gods of nature as they believed in for their well being, they considered mother nature their god and hence Yggdrasil a messenger of some sort. Annalaey would glance from time to time around her surroundings and sometimes even venture further to make sure they were safe or to tell if the weather would remain constant or if a storm was heading.
 
Rovan began unfastening his plate armor as he neared his tent, he could wear it all day if he had to, but he did enjoy the ample weight to be lifted off his shoulders. Reaching the front of his tent he bent down to toss the shoulder plating onto the floor of his temporary home. Pulling off his lute and setting down his spear, Rovan let out a long yawn that ended in a low bellow, followed by a weary hand pawing at his other armor pieces. With a tired smile he took off his chest and leg pieces and lightly tossed those with his shoulder pieces. Finally he sat on the floor with his lute, fingering the strings with careful plucks. He glanced around the camp as he tested his instrument, watching the eclectic group of men, women, and creatures. He hadn't had a chance to speak with all of them yet, but there was time. Friends could still be made.

Sitting himself cross legged on the ground, he settled his lute on his leg as he began to play a song he half remembered. Humming along with what little he could recall, Rovan let the music come as it may. He didn't mind that he wasn't that good, nor did he care too much that he couldn't sing. "Untrainable" was the word used most often when master bards described his voice. None of that matter to him, he found the joy of music. A love only rivaled by his love for the Fight.

Picking casually at the strings, he spotted Lahras walking over to him. Stopping short of reaching him but still within earshot of his music, he seemed oddly entranced by his song. Odd only in the sense that Rovan wasn't the best bard to ever hold an instrument. His mouth began to curl into a smile as Lahras opened his eyes and walked toward him again.

"That was a pretty song.", Lahras said. He stumbled a bit, almost knocking into the small fire nearby, but recovered quickly. Looking away, he asked, "Play another one?"

Rovan simply nodded, smiled, and began to play another song he partly knew. He didn't get too far when John approached. A fellow polearm wielder he instantly liked the man for that, if nothing else. "Don't suppose you two would be interested in more training?", he asked before adding, "Practice makes perfect, after all!"

Rovan's smile grew wider, he loved his music, but even more so, he loved the Fight! "Gladly, friend. I can't say no to that.", he said eagerly. His body still wore a skin of weariness, but that was nothing he wasn't able to handle.

With a casual toss of his lute on his laid out bedroll, Rovan picked up his spear, the First Spear, and nodded to Lahras, "Come on, boy. You would do well to learn a thing or two. We can make a warrior out of you yet!". He smiled down at the boy and placed a friendly arm around his shoulder, motioning for John to lead the way.
 
A few feet from the fire, curled up in the grass, lay a wolf who had been in the throes of half-sleep for a good few minutes or so, the conscious half listening to the conversations around it. Finally, and with some sense of purpose, Jair stood up and stretched her forelegs, taking a short look around before moving away in a random direction. She had listened to the bard's music, and anyone watching may have seen her tail moving just a small bit, but the clanging of metal against metal was hardly a song she was interested in. She took a purposeless, meandering path to the outer edge of the camp, and only noticed Lirin from a foot or two away, close enough to have already been obvious to her. After backing away a few steps and sitting on her haunches, she spoke quietly in a feline language taught to her long ago: {Excuse me. The night favors you well.}
 
In her silent searching, Zahra passed several of the party members. Darius was attempting to draw some conversation from the cowardly dragon, with Arothi's gentle requests being of some aid. A brief flicker of a smile crossed Zahra's face before it disappeared just as quickly.

She gave John, Rovan and Lahras only a fleeting glance when she walked by them. The boy would be safe with that pair, even if she wasn't keen on the idea of letting him get too close to sharp weapons. As she moved farther towards the edge of their camp, the wolfgirl Jair appeared to be verbally prodding at Lirin. It conjured an amusing thought of dogs chasing cats, though Zahra was certain it would be Lirin doing the chasing.

There she was. The one Zahra was seeking. Annalaey was up in a tree, having volunteered to give night-guard. Zahra didn't believe the tree would be any more of a better vantage point than on the ground, but Zahra's methods of protection went a more... magical approach.

"Annalaey. I have a task for you." Zahra said softly to not startle the girl, but loud enough to make her presence known as she stopped under the tree. She waited patiently while Annalaey dropped from the branches. Eying the girl for a moment, Zahra pulled a small pouch out of the folds of her clothing and offered it to Annalaey.

"These are protection crystals. Very simple to use and I need you to place them around the area of our camp. How you do it is very important. Like this." Pulling another stone out of her pocket, she held it tight in her right hand for several moments. Then she passed it to her left hand, also holding it tight. When she opened her palm the stone was now glowing a pale light green. "Pulling it out with the right hand, putting it back in with the left."

"Do you understand?"
 

Annalaey was summoned and her rabit ear turned another direction lightly and then she jumped off smoothly from the tree branch. It was Zahra who called upon her, Annalaey listened and watched intently to every word she spoke. "I do not understand." a strange accent more commonly known as a Vierr accent slurred in her speech as she bent a little looking at the stones carefully in Zahra's hand. "Perhaps it's easy to activate them but where to stud them, my lady? The trees or the earth?" One would have a hard time getting around her, they were a difficult race to work with only because of their completely different methods of living. "My lady a little more elaboration would help." some would say her accent had a little mechanical tone in it as well.
 
Rethil jumps slightly, not expecting the warrior to speak with him. Turning his too-human eyes on the paladin, he laughs nervously. "Oh... y-yeah. Um... H-hello, Sir Da-... Uhh, Darius." The dragon forgets slightly too late that the man was not of any order, and wasn't sure if he'd enjoy being called 'Sir' anymore. He dips his head in apology, "S-sorry... I'm... not good at... s-speaking. Particularly to people. I'm..." He drifts off, head tilting as he thinks of something.

Grateful for the topic change, he responds, "Humans... are very good at using things that cause pain. Weapons aren't that bad, it's the magic that hurts the most. The magic I use has always been calm and... well, useful. The magic used against me... spells designed to scar... to hurt, to slay. It... makes my stomach hurt." He shifts warily, sending panicked eyes at the slayer once more.

He attempts a weak chuckle, "S-Sorry again, I don't mean to... erm... 'mope', was it? I just... think a lot when I'm not doing something productive. I should probably learn to keep busy more often. I don't like thinking much." He nods apologetically, and his expression perks up as Arothi arrives. A smile crosses the beast's face. He looks at the herb for a moment, raising a clawed hand to take a strand from her. He couldn't grow something by appearance alone. He sniffed at the herb, feeling it in his hand... after looking at the centaur and asking a meek "Is it safe to taste?", he tries it.

Nodding quietly, he turns to some of the purple flowers that he had conjured before. He wasn't sure why, but he always found it easier to affect plants he had already conjured, than conjure different plants altogether. His father called it 'conservation of energy', but the term was lost on Rethil. Breathing magic onto the patch of flowers, he rose a clawed hand to gesture. Whispering the words of magic to them. Petals merged into the green, stems split and smells altered. Roots shifted shape, and leaves flattened. When finished, he looked up at Arothi, whispering, "Umm... is this right?"
 
Lirin tilted her head and made a sound that might have been a chuckle or a snicker. "Why ... Thank you. So you speak the feline tongue, eh?" To humor the canine, she spoke back in the same language. It didn't sound quite right but the cat could understand her well enough. She stretched and kneaded the ground with her paws before slinking forward. "I've never met a canine who bothered to learn it. Interesting ..." She circled around her. "Very interesting ..."

The canine looked rested enough. She could probably steal a wisp or two of energy and she wouldn't feel it at all. These young creatures had lots of energy to give. Zahra's rule had only been not to kill anyone. There was a lot she could do short of killing. None of Lirin's thoughts appeared on her face, however. "So ... Jair, is it?" There was another snickering chuckle. "Do not fret. I overheard you introducing yourself. It's not like I can read your mind or anything." She returned to sit in front of Jair and began to lick the back of her front paw. "You may call me, Lirin. It is a rather beautiful night. A pleasant way to start a journey fraught with danger. Hungry demons, bloodthirsty creatures, just to name a few. Many members of the party may not last for very long." A soft sigh. "It shall be very, very sad. Comrades lost. Dreams crushed. Such is the life of an adventurer, is it not?"
 
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The shabby tents of the camp did not suit Alla, nor did the terrain that the tents seemed to herald because they could not be constructed well on sloping and mountainous ground. This land was flat, deplorably so, and Alla could only hope that the quest took the band into the mountains so that she might get to be comfortable once more. However, with little choice currently as to where she slept, she caught herself peering from her tent like a shy child with her wide eyes betraying no emotion in their fathomless brown depths.

After reaching the mainland, Alla had not intended to get involved with some 'noble quest' but the young woman had been recruiting at the tavern where Alla had stopped for the night. It wasn't that the woman had struck any chord with Alla or even that the quest had. The motley assortment of volunteers, rather, had caught Alla's eye. It was deeply amusing for her to consider so many different people trekking along through the countryside in search of... oh, Alla found she couldn't even quite remember what the quest was for.

Besides, Alla considered, her ten years of wait were half over. Half over and she'd found one of the dragonlings. True, he was naught but a mere dragon - a less powerful creature than his sires and ancestors of yore. Still, though, Alla was most curious about this strange parallel to her people. Her people had broken off from the dragon's lineage longer ago than these and were half-blooded at best. This one would be more... pure. This thought drew her curiosity more than any of the others.


Cautiously, Alla stepped from the tent to look around. The flat land seemed barren to her, ugly. She curled her small wings around herself and thought of home. Strange how she'd come so far only to miss it right now.
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In Rethil's eyes I saw the plight of many. For what else are we but mighty beasts brought low by misfortune? The dragon had suffered at the hands of a few twisted men, reduced to fear and weakness. From that first night I felt for him. I wanted to show Rethil that we are not all monsters - that some humans are worth believing in...


From the Diary of Darius Castablane​


Darius found himself watching Zahra as she gave instructions to the Vierr woman. If anything, he would deem their leader a magic-user or cleric, since she had neither the build of a traveller nor the entourage of a noble. Only with the arcane arts could such a slender individual have the confidence to lead this band of outcasts. Zahra held herself with a certainty that he had only seen in fellow paladins - the poise of one who was called to rise above her fears and serve something greater.

A fascinating woman...

He jolted a little as a magic charge gripped the air. Turning back, he saw the dragon crafting weeds from the flowers he had conjured, whispering words of ancient might. He observed the ritual whilst nodding respectfully to Arothi and, silently, thanking her for the healing salve she had given him. When the dragon had finished and begun offering up the weeds to the centaur, Darius crouched and smiled once more at the creature.

"Your talents do you proud, Rethil. You are among friends here..." He turned slightly to glance at John, who was now sparring with Rovan as Lahras looked on. "And you have my word I shall make sure no harm comes to you."
 
If Zahra had any impatience for the Vierr woman's lack of basic protection knowledge, it didn't show in her countenance.

The activated stone was added to the bag and handed to Annalaey. Zahra stretched her arm out to points towards one of the areas just outside the cicle of camp. "Begin there. Activate a stone, then place it. Move ten feet, activate a new stone and place it. The stone must be placed on the earth and no farther than ten feet from another stone. The entirety of the camp must be surrounded."

Zahra's head tilted as she regarded the rabbit girl. Worrying about placing the stones right didn't seem to be what bothered her. Zahra smiled. "I don't doubt your abilities to keep guard over the camp, Annalaey. To the contrary, I feel you are the ideal one to give the stones proper activation. Now go on and get to it."

She didn't mean to dismiss the girl too quickly, but the sooner the task was done the better Zahra would feel. Her gaze drifted out towards the dark forest that lay off in the distance. Not a fire, torch, or light could be see out there, but she could feel someone near. It would only be a matter of time before there was unwelcome company.
 
Jair hardly moved, except a few flicks of her ears to listen, while the feline circled her. More than any spoken language, all creatures understood movement. She sensed she was being sized up, presumably to determine her worth as an ally; turning around with the feline would certainly have given a less complete picture, or at the least seemed less than trusting of her.

Once they were both still again, she shifted form; it was a very natural, quick sort of movement that could easily be perceived as a young woman simply adjusting a convincing wolf costume to reveal the human hidden inside, sitting cross-legged on the ground. To her own name, and the other's introduction she merely nodded. Though she did not say so, the idea of mind-reading had never crossed her thoughts before it was spoken. It struck her as a bit of a strange thing to insistently deny. "My kind are taught to speak with all creatures," she remarked first, to explain her earlier use of feline language. "I have wandered all my life, and seen that death is as natural as birth. It matters less to me what must be given up, and more what it pays for. Still, I would fight to see that less sacrifice is necessary."
 
Once Zahra explained it to her Annalaey nodded confidently and as she was dismissed, she set off. Annalaey jumped from tree to tree just to make sure how wide their territory was. Making mental calculations Annalaey set off, just like Zahra had said, Annalaey placed the green stones inside the earth soil and then advanced to the next stop. Once she was done she headed back to the camp, although on er way the Vierr stopped for several moments. Climbing higher on tree branches and looking out for someone but still no sign. "I sense a storm of evil coming." the Vierr spoke to herself before heading to Zahra. Landing just right behind her she spoke, "My lady, it's been done...but I fear some thing is headed our way my lady. I can sense it strongly and my senses are never wrong. What should we do?" Asked Annalaey now standing poised and elegant like a lady unlike most of the time where she'd be on tree tops and more like an animal.
 
Wonderful. I have sparring partners.

It is common practice amongst my people to first teach a trainee how to dodge and block. What this often translates to, however, is the trainee getting hit with sticks until they learn how to get out of their way. Now, whilst I think this is a good way to learning the fundamental principles behind manoeuvring on the battlefield, I think it may also put young Lahras off training altogether.

And I wouldn't want that. He wants to learn something useful, after all.

Moving quickly to my tent ahead of the other two, I grab my spear and a training staff for Lahras. I glance over to the paladin, Darius, quickly and contemplate inviting him to join us as well, but the man looks busy discussing matters with the non-humans in our party, and I decide to leave him to it. I make the dragon nervous, understandably, and so I do not wish to intrude.

“Alright!” I say brightly, tossing the training staff over to Lahras and glancing at Rovan, “What do you think we should begin with? I think some blocking and a few combat steps are always good to start on. But wait! We'd better all stretch our muscles first; don't want anyone breaking anything at the start of the journey. They'd miss out on all the glory and the battles!” With a grin, I spin my spear experimentally and give my muscles a quick stretch before looking back over to Lahras. “Give that a couple swings to see if you like the weight, Lahras. Tell me what you think.”