Peace Through War

It wasn't long before the men who were bringing the camp arrived, their horses pulling carriages of supplies. As soon as everyone was there, he got them setting up camp, while many of his soldiers were searching the forest for Faervel. Linnor was helping set up camp. As he pitched the tents, making sure everything was as it should bebe, he would give orders to the soldiers.

Truth be told, he actually quite liked Faervel. He had known her when they were children, and being married to nobility hadn't changed her at all. She was still the same happy, pretty girl with that blunt humor where you couldn't tell when she was joking or not. Her smile was amazing, and though he rarely saw it now that she was married to Rochirion, she would occasionally grace him with one. There was once a time when Linnor had wished to marry her. Hopes of that were dashed too quickly, and now he watched as she was made unhappy by her husband. However, he no longer was in love with her, and now was focused on ending the war more than anything. Linnor may now like her as he would a sister or friend, but he had other duties, and making sure that he was able to set up camp was more important than his feelings.

-----

Faervel wondered what the elf was thinking. He had asked her why she did not smile, and she answered truthfully. Was it not better to give the truth than to lie? Why were elves so complicated? To a wraith, it would have been an entirely acceptable answer.

Shaking her head incredulously, she once more began walking in front of the elf, still confused by his actions.
 
It was funny to him in a sad sort of way, confronting a wraith was an everyday occurrence for him but it was on the battle lines, swords clashing and blood greeting the day. The pointing out of simple differences didn't happen out there but now he was looking it square in the face as it were.

What seemed normal to him, was not for her and vice versa. It all came screaming out loud the very moment they had honest exchanged words, causing him to seriously wonder how great of a void was between the two people. In honestly knew little of the wraiths, having not made it a point in his life to study them and it was clear now.

Little quips of ginger teasing would have easily been picked up by Holi if she had been there alongside where she was suppose to be, perhaps making this duty not so ragged and awkward for himself. He might have grown up in the hands of elves, but he was not like them either. He could understand somewhat the curious behaviours some showed, but it still seemed like nothing in comparison.

Her head shook, his ears lifted somewhat as they walked in silence his own mind finally starting to wonder over trivial matters that really didn't need a place in his mind.

Worry creased his brow from time to time, brooding on the knowledge that the wraiths were building something that was hoping to end the war and destroy the only homestead he knew of, that the haven elves knew of. He supposed if they did manage to overtake the city with whatever they were creating, the survivors could flee to the mountain city of the iron elves, or possibly across the great span of the ocean to seek the shamanistic refugee with their drow brethren, but it was only a thought that was on the back of his mind like it should have been.

They were fighting for their homes, and desperately trying to know the reason to as of why the wraith's had attacked them. He could only fathom it had to do something with land, but even still Eathkar stood proud in its place over a six thousand years, it wasn't nearly that simple.

Following quietly behind the wraith woman as they began to rise over the hump of a hill that would over look the battle front, his gaze had been looking over the sparse landscape not entirely taking full note of what he would discover.

Drawing a slow gaze across his side upwards, he stopped short feeling the well of panic surge up into his gut, frothing madly. It shone out like a jewel, covering the entire expanse of the city in a surface that he didn't have to be close to, to know that it was hard as steel.

"They did it," he muttered to himself, looking across the lands surveying it desperately. "Something went wrong," his ears matted back as he furrowed his brow. They weren't suppose to raise the catalyst until he returned, something direly went wrong there was no other reason.

The entirely of the plan he had been involved in was for naught. Gritting his teeth, he turned to look darkly at the woman at his side, giving her a slow look over. She was useless now, no point in having her along as a hostage. Rational thought escaped him, as he clenched his fist, a single ear flicking to force his attention downwards. It didn't take much to look it over as he realized with a short breath that many of his own forces were now at the beckon of the wraith's. The shield had no bias, it only protected who were inside its confounds leaving many without its defense.

What of the royal crown? Had they made it inside, why was he feeling so damn uncertain about the whole thing.

His attention whipped back to Lady Faervel, "Your worth means nothing now." he sneered at her, the darker element of his own being taking a grasping hold of his mind, allowing the taint of a hellish creature to echo through where a mortal's tone was.

Advancing quick on her, Krim made damn certain to grab her wrists though what was surprising was what he actually did. Forcing the locks to give way, the shackles dropped off of her. Looking her over, he took a step back, "Aren't you lucky, Lady Faervel; you won't have to be a hostage after all." he narrowed his eye over her, sliding a step back. He wasn't going to waste his effort with her especially now that they had lost so much.

Ears moved yet again, his attention skewed away eavesdropping on others with a skill that was greatly outside that of a elven soldier, his features contorted into a devilish grimace. It wasn't hard to even decipher there common words, he knew that a member of elven royal family had been taken and with how they spoke of a catty tongue and wild attempts to strike out, he knew damn well who it was. "Holi," he gritted his teeth, gnashing them making a audible squeak rise up.

Tossing a quick look over his shoulder to the Lady of the Wraith lord, his upper lip twitched before he turned to barrel off into the lurking overhang of the remaining forest. As much as he wanted too charge in like a creature with no brains, he knew he couldn't. His comrades were at the mercy of the wraiths and his uncouth interruption would only ensure they died, and he was almost damn certain that by now the wraiths understood that Holi was the heiress to the elven throne. He had to stay calm and think quick though most of all, he wanted to keep the demonic side of himself at bay.
 
Faervel had felt that the elf was quickly becoming distressed. The dark feelings he had as he was gazing upon the magnificence that was the elven city practically oozed off of him, and she took a small step away from him. When he spoke, a dark undertone to his voice, she looked to hhim fearfully, fully expecting him to kill her for the trouble she had given him all this time.

Crying out in fear as he took a firm hold of her wrists, she gazed up into his eyes fearfully, trying to find her voice so she might plead with him for her life. When he unlocked the shackles and let them fall to her feet, she watched him in confusion. Backing away from him slowly as he focused his attention elsewhere, she hesitated, not sure of the elf's intentions. However, once he sprinted away, she felt it was safe enough to leave.

She wandered around, not sure how to get to camp again. From what she had seen, the camp had been moved closer to the city, so she trid to circle around, but she was no hunter.

Just when she felt she was hopelessly lost, and was standing beneath the shade of an oak, she heard footsteps. It was a wraith soldier, a sergeant by the badges on his breast. When he saw her, he immediately began asking her questions. She refused to answer any of them, and just wanted to go back to camp. Silent on the walk there, she looked at the chafe marks from where the shackles had rubbed against her skin.

That wet cotton feeling was gone, she was elated to learn. Now, she truly appreciated her shadows, after experiencing time where she was without them. The wwhole time she was walking, she was manipulating the shadows between her hands, feeling much better now that she had her powers back. Maybe now I can smile for the elf, she thought wryly, though the thought brought a frown to her face.
 
She shook her head with a blowing of her lips any chance of slumber quickly being sucked away yet again when finally the clouds over head began to shiver and shake releasing the heavy drops to the earth in a hope to cleanse all that had transpired, Holi closed her eyes.

Clothing stuck to her, hair matted to her all over as she could feel the biting chafe of the ropes around her wrists itching due to the burn she had caused to spread there.

The camp seemed to be up in arms with the chaos that was the missing Lady of Rochirion, which was probably a good thing for a moment of reprieve. She could see a few of the fellow soldiers that were of the elven army mumbling amongst themselves, others turning looks upwards to stare at the distant city that was not even in arms reach anymore, she shuddered against the cold before she sneezed and cursed the rain. She would have given anything for it earlier in the day but now it only made everything else entirely dreary, crushing anything that might have been a flicker of delusional hope.
 
As soon as the sky broke, sending rain down ffrom the sky, Linnor had his men set out large barrels to capture water in, knowing that they might be there for a while. He was glad for the rain, as well. It washed a lot of the blood from him, and though all that had gotten in his hair now stained his white cotton shirt, he was glad to be feeling somewhat clean again.

After standing iin the rrain for several minutes, he decided to let the elves stay out, tying the group to a tree. Moving to the girl, he did the same, though he made sure to tie hers tighter than the rest. Once that was finished, he finished setting up camp before making sure the bodies of dead wraiths were moved underneath canopied tents.

Walking to the girl once more, he asked, "You are sure you only want your dead comrades to be burned in a pyre? If otherwise, tell me and I will have them moved underneath a canopy." At her answer, he only nodded before giving appropriate instrictions to his soldiers.

Then, out of the forest, came a sergeant and--Lady Faervel! She looked relatively unharmed, and Rochirion immediately went to her, as was expected. She embraced him, something Linnor only saw a few times. Frowning at this show of affection, even as Rochirion returned her embrace, Linnor forced himself to walk there, glad she was alright. She had a bright smile on her face, despite the rain that doused her clothes and the mud on her shoes. She was crying, though, too, but they appeared to be happy tears, probably from being in a familiar place again.

As Linnor took the sergeant's name, intending on praising him later, he followed the lord and his wife to their tent, needing to know what had happened. As she explained it to them, his expression steadily darkened. "Damn those elves. Damn my soldiers. They should've taken better care of you." With that, he returned ooutside, and was helping set up bed rolls and sleeping areas for the soldiers, knowing full well that seeing the wraith soldiers asleep on dry ground while they slept in tue rain, tied up, would break a couple of the elves.
 
She was all for rain but she was getting annoyed at being soaking wet! Sure as a child this would have been fantastic day to go jumping in mud puddles but this was a cruel punishment even in the face of war.

Though she would have happily stayed where she as in the rain rather than being tied to a tree, she managed to keep from griping or whining about being tied tighter! Shaking out her hair in futile attempt, her ears barely moved though she heard the general talking to her again, she focused her gaze downwards ignoring him this time. She had told him their customs and while he could think it was barbaric it was how they were. The body was nothing but mortal flesh while it was the soul that would ascend to the rightful place in the ethereal plains.

Any sort of spirits that were in her elven comrades became distant as they all stood tied up in the rain, some muttering but not much as she dared a sorrowful look to a couple and them in return to her.

Pulling on the ropes absently like a horse being tethered too long, Holi turned her gaze upwards letting her eyes close just feeling the rain washing over her and being more than thankful all the sudden for it all, allowing it to hide the pride inside that came pricking at the corners of her eyes.

There was no sanity here, no hope she knew this. And yet, there they were lost in their own homelands, tied to the mules that were the wraiths and just praying that death would come swift enough. While she kept up the front of holding herself, she was screaming on the inside just for someone to slit her throat and the rest of them. She gave up truly and held no resolve for any of them.

"Lady Holi," a single solider spoke to her causing her to blink back the wetness of her gaze, dropping it to look at the man seeing him making a point with his eyes alone behind him to many of the other men that were seeming just as stubborn as she wanted too be. Just as quick as he looked at her, he began to make idle conversation with her in their native tongue seeming to be light hearted, as she couldn't help but let the innocence of her youth spread on her pale lips but it did little to reach the core of her gaze. This was their end, to wallow into nothing before the wraiths treated like animals, though animals did at least get an ounce of respect, she leaned forward to thunk her head against the trunk. Shoulders sagged as she laughed lightly, tears dripping down her cheeks.

They were screwed and they all knew it.
 
Linnor helped around camp for the next few hours, healing wounds, finding more space to house soldiers, and rationing out food. They would need to send for more food soon. When he finally decided it was dark enough for night watches to be set up, he retreated to his own tent. Changing out of his dirty, soaked clothes, he set his weapons beside his bedroll.

As he pulled on a fresh pair of clothes, he set about getting the blood from under his fingernails out. As he got the last of it out, and was looking much more nnormal than he had all day, he ate a meager meal of dry and crumbly cheese on stale bread. It wasn't much, but it kept hunger at bay.

Absently rubbing the bandage on his forehead, he pulled off his boots. Falling asleep on his bedroll, he barely stirred through the entirety of the night, his body desperate for the rest he had deprived it of all day.
 
To say sleep was uncomfortable was putting it so lightly she could scoff at the very idea. They were hungry, tired, wet, cranky and most ready to fall over from the pain that was rumbling around in their bodies but somehow had enough proud or vinegar inside to be stubborn still.

Not to say all were, some of the least favorable men began to whine and moan during the night only helping making it difficult to sleep, before they swore themselves to the wraith army much like the bastards wanted. Those were the weakest links and in turn would feel the shame of their own species.

Sighing heavily hearing the fervent growling of her stomach, the sun lingered behind the clouds yet again though they were not nearly as heavy as they had been giving filters of light here and there. Sometimes if she was lucky enough, a ray would shine out on her allowing the brief moment to warm up and dry off.

Ears remained at half mass as it were, her gaze worn but her pride seeming to be bridling tight in her chest, other men were conversing amongst themselves sometimes including her though they knew she wouldn't speak back due to the previous order not to let her talk with others, she wasn't in much of a mood to let others suffer at her stupidity.

But she as grateful for the mild words here and there, it helped dull away the ache of her body and the foul mood she was wadding in.

Having managed to kneel down before the tree, she could only wiggle the rope enough to drop her arms somewhat, her attention fumbled around the workings of the wraith camp just trying to keep her mind off the reminder of her failures.

A ear flicked upwards, looking sideways up watching a leaf come tumbling downwards in a slow loft; she couldn't imagine how this could get any worse but still had an idea that it could. These people didn't know the meaning behind compassion and heart, making them suffer in ways she fathomed were only the start of torture. She knew when they had captured wraiths, there weren't treated as such. Sure they were prisoners but they were still allowed a lot of their comforts, mainly due to her father seeing them of course as mortals, not as beasts though that could be discerned at times.

Again her ear moved listening to the subtle noises that generally would go ignored by men without the luxury of their enhanced hearing, her brow perked again drawing her attention up to the tree. Another leaf cascaded downwards as she attempted to catch the floating green in her tied hands, freezing in place waiting for it to fall into her hands before she would grasp nimble fingers around it. It seemed silly but she spent many years with her father walking through the forest on one of his great lectures, attempting to catch the falling leaves before they hit the ground. It was simple but it calmed her rigid nerves.

That is until she flicked an ear yet again, turning to look aside before she narrowed her gaze watching something scuttling along the brush. Instantly her blood turned cool thinking that it was a beast looking for the carnage that war left, which would mean her and the other elves were nothing but live bait.

Clutching the leaf in her grasp, she pushed her feet under her body forcing herself to stand daring to lean and move away from where she seen the shuffling, her attention alert and worried all at once.
 
When Linnor woke, he quickly ate before listening to the report on what had happened overnight. It wasn't much; a few elves had joined their ranks, much to the dismay of the other elves. He didn't know why they were so upset. This happened all the time: elves or wraiths were taken as prisoners, and under that compromisal treaty, they were a part of that army, to be treated as the commanding officer wished. Certain arrangements were almost always made to get the soldiers back home, at least under Linnor. Before he had become a general, he had once been taken prisoner by the elves and was a part of their army for almost six months, until a compromise had been made to bring the private back to his side. That had been during the first siege of Eathkar, the one that had failed so many years ago. Private Linnor Meryk had gotten lost in the battle, and once it was over, he was a single skinny private in a sea of elves. Now, he wonderd if the Reagent Lord remembered him from then. Probably not, since then he was barely eighteen and still looked like he was five years younger. He distinctly remembered a younger Reagent Lord there who had spoken to him when he was first captured. He was as infuriating then as he was now.

Snapping back to reality, he remembered a promise he had made from the day before, to the elves. Pulling on his boots, he walked to them, standing where they could see him properly. "I had forgotten, but I had promised to attend to your wounds. Any broken bones, dislocated shoulders?" After listening to the wounds everyone had suffered, he went to grab alcohol and bandages, as well as anything else he needed. He could have just sent for a medic, but Linnor was trying to make himself seem more mortal, and less like General Hellfire.

As he patiently attended to the wounds of the soldiers, he tried to smile and make conversation. It was clear that they didn't trust him, but he kept telling himself that it was all necessary. When he had finished with all who would accept his help, he moved to the girl, checking that his knife was safely at his side.

"Are you going to accept help from me?" He asked, before noticing her distress. "What is it?"
 
Turning her attention to the sound of the unusual voice, she leaned instinctively away from him pressing her ears back. 'Why should I accept help from the source of the problem in the first place?' she thought to herself silently, Holi kept herself quiet. She had found from earlier yesterday that it was perhaps best not to say anything to this one just in case it get thrown back at her. Which it did just as quickly.

Correcting her stance, she turned her gaze forwards stubbornly swallowing the fear that there was possibly something lurking out there that was about to make a meal of the remaining trapped elves. Her lips pursed making her cheeks puff out, she could hear some of the other men starting to notice something milling around before they shrugged it off and went back to conversing amongst themselves. She hadn't been paying enough attention to this general going around their ranks offering assistance with hesitant reluctance otherwise she might have had something to say about it all.

Many of the men were weary about this odd gesture of help, most minds thinking it was a type of trap in hopes to lure them into their ranks like the other weaker elves had. While they had really no choice in having the general assist them, they made very little attempt to be overly sweet. Rather they were watching him like a wounded animal in a cage, certainly scared and waiting for the lashing out of a hand or fist.

Kneading her feet impatiently through the still soggy ground like a horse, Holi dared a look through her peripheral to see if the general would move off. She didn't know much of him then again she wasn't usually on the front lines. That was her brother and father, they were the spearheads to the men and they knew most of the opposing general's. She was naive in many ways and it showed in how she held herself sometimes. Flicking ears idly checking the surroundings it seemed whatever had been lurking had moved off for the time being. Drawing her attention forwards again, fingers spread to look over the leaf with a childlike innocence studying the twist and turns of the veins before she began to pull on the ropes making it a habit more than anything.

~~~~~

He cursed with the timely arrival of the wraith man, it took him nearly all night to track through the marsh and rain of the battle field, trying to stay out of sight though at times he had failed. Sitting low not far from the prisoners, he had managed to catch the attention of Holi though it was clear enough that she wasn't thinking it was anything like a possible rescue. Other men noticed as he sat carefully patiently on the outskirts, watching the camp. He wanted to just spring out to hack and slash like a manic but he knew how well that would go over.

Looking through the ranks of the captured men, he could only sigh internally when he could recognize more than his fair share of soldiers. Many of them were just buck rank but there was a colonel and a major in the ranks who seemed to keep looking to speak gently to Holi though she never spoke back.

It didn't take him long to realize the man who was walking amongst his people was the fabled and legendary General Hellfire which did little to keep his already frayed nerves at rest. He had to wait unfortunately making notes to how the camp was running and how people moved before he could or would make a move. Though it was a struggle.

Rubbing at his head, he bit down on his lip making a slow slunk off to disappear further from the camp to keep them from danger, though he wouldn't go far in the least.
 
Still feeling uneasy, Linnor shook his head, leaving the elf girl to her thoughts--and wounds. As he was walking to the medic's medic's tent, he saw a dark amber and tawny brown hawk circle and land on a low branch of an oak tree. Smiling at the familiar sight, Linnor set down the medical supplies before walking to the tree.

Looking up at the hawk, he made a soft tittering sound through his teeth, holding his right arm out. "To me, Jed," he said playfully at the bird. Jed fixed him with dark, intelligent eyes. Knowing the bird was toying with him, Linnor made a sharp gesture in its direction. As the bird continued to ignore his instructions, Linnor finally caved. "Fine, fine. I'll find you some bread or something." Turning, he went to his tent, taking a small amount of bread from his rations for the day.

Returning to the bird, he saw the familiar dark purple string attached to its leg. "To me, Jed," he repeated, holding his hand up, holding the bread in his outstretched hand. Finally, the bird flew down from its perch, landing on his forearm. Wincing as its talons sank into his skin, he made a warning sound before opening his hand, letting Jed get at the bread. Reaching for the small tube strapped to his back, he received a sharp peck for his troubles. Forced to wait until the bird was done with its snack, he was eventually allowed to open the tube, he pulled out a small, rolled up letter.

It read:

My dear friend,

By some stroke of luck, or perhaps a blessing from the gods, my forces have captured the elven city of Quorais. I pray you are not having difficulty capturing Eathkar? I still rremember the first time we tried, and you got captured by the elves. You were practically in tears by the time we got you back. Hahaha!

Despite that, I will be moving some of my men to the city, in order to aid in the capture of the city. Please expect us to find you by the end of the week.

Gods be with you,

General Harndir

After reading the letter, Linnor returned to his tent to compose a return letter. Placing the note in Jed the Hawk's tube, he fed the bird again before stroking his feathers and sending him on his way. Watching the bird fly away, he smiled at it briefly before turning away, and walking towards Rochirion's tent to tell his lord the news.

"My lord," he announced before stepping inside the tent. Rochirion was sitting at a table while Faervel lay sleeping. It was rather endearing, the expression on her face, butLinnor forced himself to look fixedly at his lord as he explained the new development to the situation. Things were either very good or very bad for the elves and wraiths alike.
 
Talk about boredom. She was more than grateful for the damnable wraith leaving her be finding it was especially effective to ignore him rather than give him ammo to use against her. While it may have gone against her usual morals, she was fondly pleased to know that she wouldn't have to interact with him if she didn't want too, not that she overly wanted too.

Seeming to take a note of her little antics, a few of the men muttered amongst themselves before she caught the look of some giving her appreciative grins. She didn't do it to receive any sort of recognition but she wouldn't dispute it either.

But as the general left, she couldn't help but become increasingly bored with the hum drum behaviour of the camp, which left her ample amounts of time to study the bonds she was currently being tied by. Lifting her hands up as much as possible, she had no quarrels biting at the rope here and there trying to pull out the knots and often failing when she heard the wet rope squeak against her teeth.

By the time high noon rose, she somehow managed to wrangle herself up and around with the rope that she climbed up into the tree though she had nowhere to go. Her boots laid on the grass having used her bare feet, it wasn't uncommon to hear some of the men laughing at her antics trying to escape or at least kill her own boredom.

Though her wrists were raw and bleeding when she finally made it up into the tree, laying out on a branch on her belly, she thunked her head down on the grain of it. Well it was one thing getting up there, now getting down was a whole other story. She thought about jumping but that would leave the rope to separate her shoulders from their sockets and well that would only be more painful that she could ever want.

So she chose the latter, staying up there to relax in the slothing position out of sight really but not out of mind, she began to hum a melody that she knew was often played out in the merchant streets.

"How do you propose you will get down Lady Holi?" a gentleman called her as she laughed a little, showing more emotion in that little titter than she could with words alone. She had no idea and she was fine with that right now. Looking at her wrists from the ragged nature she had put them through, she slithered up on her belly to start chewing on them again. She was getting to that point of gnawing off her own arm, but was that due to boredom or freedom?
 
When Rochirion didn't seem to understand the situation, Linnor struggled to keep his temper. Sometimes, his lord could be as responsible as a child, and it sometimes really got to Linnor. "My lord," he protested, "do you not remember who General Harndir is?" When Rochirion continued to look at him blankly, Linnor finally lost his temper.

Striding forwards, he grabbed the collar of Rochirion's shirt, pulling the man to his feet. "Harndir is the Revolutionary! He killed our late king Calchon. In his army, he has the Prince of Roses! He will not hesitate to kill any of us if we get in his way. He is a million times worse than I ever was."

He was about to say more, but Rochirion raised a fist and struck the general square in the jaw. Falling backwards, Linnor immediately brought a hand up to his jaw, feeling for breaks or missing teeth. The spot where he had been hit was rapidly turning red, and would bruise later. "R-Roch--my lord..." he whispered incredulously. He had never seen Rochirion hit anyone, and never imagined that he could do it to him.

"Get out," his lord growled. "Never touch your lord." When Linnor didn't move, still shocked from being hit, Rochirion yelled, waking Faervel, "Get out!" It didn't take long for Linnor to leave, his pride and trust in his lord shattered. Spitting out blood, he quickly surveyed the skies for falling black rose petals. When he saw none, he was able to breathe a sigh of relief. When he saw that the elf girl was no where to be seen, he strode over to where she was tied up. "How'd she get away?" he muttered, gently rubbing the red spot on his face. Seeing the rope, he followed it up to a branch where, sure enough, she was resting.

"Get down from there," he sighed, not in the mood to deal with elven antics.
 
Giving up for the time being to gnaw at the ropes around her wrists letting them rest and throb from the raw treatment she had given them, she honestly felt like a cat lounging in the tree. Not that it was a bad thing, it was rather calm up here that she was nearly thinking that she might give way to a nap. If she didn't roll around it would be a great idea.

Chattering came from the men below causing her slack gaze to widen, peering over the branch to take a calculating look to what they were murmuring about. Partly expecting some to be pointing and others to be lifting their hands to muffle their words already they didn't.

Tapered ears flicked upwards, craning her neck towards the demand she found herself staring at the rather grouchy general, rubbing his face. Blink somewhat, her gaze narrowed firstly before brows rose seeing the redness on the side of his jaw. She gave a sort of smirk that was easily challenging knowing exactly that he had been struck but by what or whom would be the mystery. Either way she had been amused to know that something might had tried to knock some sense into his thick skull.

Sitting uprights on the branch, she lifted her hands to tap the bottom of her lip thinking over his words carefully almost as if she would comply but that would be expecting the best of her. Rather, she glanced downwards, stuck out her tongue at him and pulled the rope up into the tree that it should have easily been out of his reach. If she could be a pain, she would though she should have been thinking about the repercussions.

Silence came from the men, most trying not to watch just in case they were about to witness the death of the first daughter of the Regnant Lord, Holi managed to scramble up another branch with some difficultly and sat there, looking downwards at the general, defiance and amusement playing brightly on her wild grin.
 
"If you want me to say please, that is not going to happen," Linnor said, looking up at her. He wasn't going to climb up the tree either, if he could help it. As one of his men passed by, glancing up to see what it was Linnor was llooking at, he chuckled and muttered, "Like a cat, sir. The only way to get one out of a tree is to lure it out. Grab it and the claws come out..."

"Or just leave it," interrupted the general. "Back to work." With that, he turned around, leaving her in the tree. Fine, she could get ticks if she wanted. Shouting orders to deal wjth the body of their dead soldiers, he walked calmly with a group of five to the shimmering wall that surrounded the city. There was a small guard standing at it, who, upon seeing Linnor, sent one of their own off, presumably to find the Reagent Lord.

"I wonder if they can hear me..." he mumbled, before sending one of his soldiers to fetch paper and a charcoal pencil, just in case. As his soldier handed him the matrials he had asked for, he stood proud and tall as he waited for movement on the other side.
 
"Well I'll be..." she muttered, leaning forward watching the general walk off, she might have whooped and hollered with the personal little victory. She didn't honestly think it would work really that he would leave her be. So that was just it, she had to find little things to annoy him at the same time things he wouldn't be bothered with.

Rubbing her hands with a delighted glee, the scheming started.

Though it promptly stopped when she felt the tree start to shake as if someone was trying to shake her right of out it. Gasping she lunged for the thick of the trunk, grasping tight in fear she was just about to go falling out only to be hung by her wrists, leaves shook above her causing her attention to turn wide eye to see who in the nine hells decided to make her eat her words.

"Are you seriously trying to get yourself killed!" he hissed at her through his teeth, glaring murderously at her as if it was about to be the honestly last day of her life. His tone was low enough that she still could understand him but quiet enough that it shouldn't have disturbed anyone around them.

"How did you? What about- Why are?" he put a palm over her mouth stopping her from asking the incomplete sentences. Not that she wasn't painfully relieved that he had been around and was playing the hero, but he had been given a prior objective which clearly didn't go through.

The glimmer of red irises dared a look to her, trifling with annoyance anger and plight all at once; Krim frowned at her. "Let's just get the hell out of here while there distracted, we'll try and regroup with the Drows."

"Whose distracted?" she asked softly, seeing the glimmer of a short dagger being pulled out of his boot.

"Hellfire." he tipped his chin forward making the notion that the general that had been annoying her was Hellfire. "I don't know what is honestly going on, but it seems they are trying to negotiate trading of prisoners through the catalyst shield, though how that's going to work is beyond me." Reaching forward to take up the knot of her ropes, he paused looking over the tender red and bloody flesh, clicking his tongue and slipping the knife forward.

"Wait wait," she jerked her hands back nearly causing them both to go flopping out of the tree, which only proved to annoy him further.

"Holi for slaggin sakes!" Krim gripped onto the trunk before exhaling softly. "What!" Pointing downwards, he followed her before raising a brow. "What?" his tone became flat as she smirked a little more.

"Get the other men out of here first Krim."

Again he looked at her, "What."

Holi rubbed her head, "You heard me."

Hands reached forward grabbing her shoulders, "Are you fucking nuts!" his tone was bordering on the edge of demonic, "I've been slinking through the dirt and mud and brush for the past how many hours and you want me to forget helping you!" he was trying not to shake her but his hands were tight to her shoulder. "Why would I do that!?"

Prying a hand from her, Holi rubbed her shoulder idly. "Just trust me and do it."

Retracting both hands forming them into malicious claws with how they curled stifling the urge to scream bloody fury at her before he gnashed his teeth, shooting a index finger at her. "You better have a bloody plan otherwise if they kill you, I will raise you back from the dead and kill you myself!" She swallowed hard to the threat knowing damn well he meant it, her head nodded shakily.

Rubbing a furious hand through the cusp of his bangs, he looked to her, downwards and then sighed. "Go go," she motioned at him, actually receiving a hard swat from him before he made his way downwards, his body momentarily shimmering out of sight making her recall the more potent demonic traits he held. It was no wonder he was called the prowler on the battle field.

Sighing some, she looked downwards keeping an eye out for anyone coming by as Krim began to work quickly and feverishly cutting ropes of the men. It didn't take long before the small remaining group of men had been freed and were now disappearing into the brush with Krim in the lead. Sighing this time, she rubbed her head yet again silently hating herself for trading places for freedom but she knew it was the best thing she could have done.

Though Krim was ready to kill her for it.

Taking the time to shimmy back down the tree, receiving more than her fair share of scrapes, she sat down on the ground picking twigs and leaves from her hair trying to keep a reasonable head on her shoulders.
 
Just as Linnor was discussing with an elf that was halfway intelligent, he was called away by the shouts of his soldiers. Turning, he quickly surveyed the area before he saw it. The elves had escaped.

That was when it all came crashing down. The stress from everything that had happened the past few days, the siege, how Rochirion had hit him, dealing with his soldiers, Jed from earlier, and the elf girl being contrary. Now this. He struggled to keep the shadows bubbling in him down. He truly did. But it proved all for naught as he strode forwards.

In the space of a second, an explosion of shadows infused with reds and oranges appeared at his footsteps. The grass around him seemed to wither and burn. As the darkness he created accentuated the shadows already on his face, he started looking more and more like the fabled General Hellfire. Striding over to where the elves had disappeared, he extended his consciousness through the shadows of the forest, and soon he knew where every elf was in the forest. He was no longer the slightly kind general Linnor Meryk. Now, he was the nearly-unstoppable monster called General Hellfire.

"Little elves," he growled, as a tree to his right caught fire, "no use running now." Almost absent-mindedly he reached up a hand to undo the belt holding the sheath to his knife. As it fell to the ground, he continued walking, feeling the presence of an elf to his right. He was hardly more than a boy, and must have fallen and hurt his ankle, for he didn't get up as he walked closer to him.

The elf began panicking as he saw the wraith before him. Linnor smiled darkly. When he got close enough, the elf boy was inside the explosion of shadows around him, and the general felt power flood through him. He was about to release the energy, and cause the shadows to turn fire and engulf the elf, when he heard one of his own calling his name. Pausing, he cocked his head to the sound, momentarily distracted.
 
Shadows!

In truth she had never seen them so close before and honestly didn't think overly hard on them, she knew they were destructive and certainly not something to trifle with but this... this was something else entirely.

Panic welled inside as she wanted nothing but to get the hell away when the general had made his trek back towards where the other men had been, but that proved naught. Struggling against the rope the best she could do was move around the side of the tree and pray feverishly though she doubt that was going to do anything.

She wanted to cry out but fear of her own voice meant nothing would come. So much for boredom now!

~~~~


His ears flicked involuntarily, making a haughty motion towards some of the men who had remained with him to disperse as quickly as possible, he had personally been at the end of his own rope.

Reaching up, fingers unbuckled the heavy spaulders from their place allowing them to tumble downwards into the dirt, his feet pressing hard against the grass with the spin that had him running right back to the heated presence that permeated the very earth they strode upon. He had been hoping that they could manage a get away before Hellfire returned or heard word but that was asking for a lot.

He feared for the men, but he was fearing that all this chaos would come down on Holi which he was pretty damn sure it would. There was one thing standing up for your common man, but he was pledged to the Regnant Lord and that alone extended to an heir.

Trudging hard, he had been thankful he really wasn't that far off but he was less than pleased to find that all too familiar stroke of shadows looming wide and far, threatening to erupt from the bestial wraith. Tearing away the cloak that had already been mostly managed, fingers gripped tight to the embellished hilt of his sword, drawing it forth with a crushing wave his feet sliding hard against the dirt playing hero he wasn't so sure he should.

Never had he been so thankful for a call that forced the general's attention than that moment, Krim made a hard curse and a waving hand at the young lad of an elf to get the hell out of there, his own gaze lifting to take full valuation of General Hellfire.

Remaining half crouched down, his sword at the ready he could feel the strength behind these shadows as he couldn't help but let the demonic grin rip across his features, tearing away the usual demeanor of the elf and replacing it with the image feral monster looking for a fight. Sclera once white turned inky black allowing the pitch to paint a canvas for the red irises, flesh took on a sickly look as he could feel the tether between humanity and malevolence breaking away.

Thought pass through his mind, eyes considered the weapon before him before he lifted a brow and tossed it aside. If this bastard wanted to take out the only kin he knew of, then there was no sense in letting the elven morals contain any remaining honor he had. Though his own attention seemed skewed momentarily catching the screaming calls of his name coming from the all too familiar source. Telling him to just get away as if that was even a thought or a choice.

He was not nearly as famous as the General but his talents should have preceded him, there was a reason why he was still surviving from being on the battle front for so long. And he couldn't help but wonder if Hellfire knew of this, if he had a choice to sever that tether between his compassion and maliciousness, he wouldn't waste a moment to feed the gnawing hunger that had been a real pain in his head for the last while.

He was honestly nothing more than a glorified hollow, a creature who feed from other users natural magic ability that had been birthed from them. He was created by the elves, made into the demonic creature and he was damn certain he was going to finish this off one way or another.
 
Linnor had almost put his attention back on the elven boy when he felt another presence, one that was just behind him. Spiking around, shadows flaring for a second, he cocked a smirk when he saw who it was. "Playing hero, are we?" he asked as he heard the elf behind him running away. The general did not move, and simply stood there as he watched the elf warily as his appearance started changing. On more than occasion, he lost his concentration, and would become distracted by a passing bird or the sounds of elves and his soldiers in the woods. Linnor looked to the elf in front of him once more, a slightly disinterested look in his eyes that only a general of the wraith army could have.

In the wraith army, in order to be promoted to general, one had to be able to manipulate their shadows much more than a typical wraith soldier. General Harndir and the Prince of Roses, were both able to do so, though Linnor was known for his shadows being unlike any other. Each general also had their own nicknames, given to them by the elves they fought and the soldiers they led. Each general was so powerful that one on one fights were boring. Normally, a general could keep himself under control after their shadows were reigned back in. Linnor was the only one who couldn't, at least, not very well. And the wraith army took advantage of that. They had him destroy every elven hamlet he came across, and destroy he did. He would have continued on his campaign of ruin, but a little elven boy pleaded for him to not kill his sister, when he had killed everyone else. The tears in his eyes were what brought him back to reality, and he had collapsed. He didn't wake for a week, until the wraiths found him once more. The little elven boy had kept him alive that week. After that, he had vowed never to become the monster he was.

And today he had broken that promise.

Making a slight beconing motion to the elf, he waited for him to attack, his shadows writhing around him like living things.
 
He smirked to the deranged looking General, flexing his own hands testing the strength behind them. "Better than playing monster like some," letting the grin spread slowly, Krim watched as general with a keen focus.

Hearing one too many rumours for his own liking, he knew this general was a real pain in the elven armies ass. He had more than his fair share of nicknames, each less favorable than the last but Hellfire was honestly the best way to describe him.

So many places had been murdered and maimed by the crooked man, leaving so many helpless and screaming for their love ones, tears and hearts that wouldn't be so easily mended. The simple thought of how many this man killed brought a foul bile to his throat that only provoked his own feral aggression.

Raising a cocky brow to the motion the general made to him, Krim looked unimpressed. While he was struggling not to just go into the baiting call, he also knew better.

Lifting himself to stand strong and erect looking down the curve of his nose to the general, Krim shook his head. "You want a fight you bastard, then I'll happily oblige you!" he sneered drawing back his lips, letting the incisors snap, lunging forward hard and strong, he knew he still had to be extremely wary of this creature's shadows. A soldier's were nothing in comparison to a generals.

~~~

Blood frothed around her wrists, tugging violently at the ropes screaming the entire time, her heart wedged into her throat, tears flew from her cheeks. She wished she didn't have to see even a little bit of the battle, but they hadn't gotten that far off from the camp. Commotion had been risen into the ranks of the men, bringing many over to start to witness the fight between monster and beast, her frantic cries easily droning out the sounds of many.

She had already bitten her lip enough to bleed, skin rent from her wrists biting and burning violently from the rope burns, she watched as Krim and the general seemed to be lost in a dance of death. Her voice became hoarse, tearing knowing she should have given it a rest but it was one thing to have herself in the line of danger, but any of the men her father trained, spoke with, even Krim she couldn't stand it.

"Krimzon! Krim," she kept calling desperately, fingers wedging and slipping against the red cruor making it impossible for her to escape.

She couldn't stay like this just to watch him die by the monsters hands! "Krim!" calls of a woman screaming out for a lover it could easily be described as, but whether it was the truth or not was another story, "Krim, Krim! Don't kill him please, KRIM!"