Peace Through War

Hearing the elven girl calling the name oof the elf in front of him, Linnor moved his extension of consciousness to just the claring they were in. Blinking slowly, he set alight the trees along its edges, letting the fires grow to a manageable level. As the man rushed him, he ducked gracefully out of the way, setting the ground at his feet alight. Stepping outside the fire, he frowned slightly at the elf, feeling a slight headache forming at his temples. This always happened. Shadows were to be used in bursts no bigger than five hours, with a lot of time in between use to build up strength again. Though Linnor had only been using his shadows for a few minutes, he hadn't used his powers in many years. He wasn't sure how long he would have. It could be an hour, he could have four. Either way, he wanted to finish the fight soon.

-----

After she had been woken by Linnor and Rochirion's fight, Faervel had spent the day trying to be useful. She knew that her place was with her husband, but after seeing the red mark upon Linnor's face, she had decided she needed time away from her husband.

When Linnor had released his shadows the first time in years, she had watched, half in fear and half in fascination. However, once soldiers began running about, getting buckets of water to put out the fires Linnor had created, she started moving, too. Filling up a bucket of water, she ran into the forest, quickly finding the clearing Linnor was in. Pouring half the bucket on a part of the fire, she ran into the clearing, seeing Linnor fighting with an elf. It didn't take long for her to recognize the elf. Still, he was made of flesh and blood, like she was, and she wouldn't let Linnor kill him if she could help it.

Running forwards, she dumped the rest of the water on the general's head, and his shadows promptly disappeared. Now, she had to protect him. Moving in front of Linnor as he struggled to form shadows to set on fire, she shouted, tears in her eyes, "Don't kill him!"

Linnor, dripping wet and with murder in his eyes, stepped forwards, as his shadows began to leave him because of the water. While his shadows left him, so did his strength, and he was struggling to retain it in order to fight.
 
Barking a laugh watching as the area began to spring to life with the fire that had only come from the general himself. If this was really all the general had, then the stories of his fearsome abilities were grossly stretched.

He may have not been as elegant on his feet as the wraith but he wasn't made to be agile, he was made to combat up front and personal, taking hits with the grace and a smirk while giving back what he had received.

Letting the spiral of combat and blood thunder through his own veins, he didn't know really how long the fight ensued but he found himself stalling a step watching the vision of a woman come running in with a bucket pouring on the general's head. Ears flicked upwards to the scene, he straightened himself out before he started to outright laugh at the predicament. But even that was short.

Sliding a foot backwards, he turned his gaze over the all too familiar woman causing him to draw in a slow steady breath, gritting his teeth and flipping a hand upwards. If he didn't have to kill the bastard fine by him, in a sense. He still would have loved to rent the entirely of his intestines out of his belly, but he wouldn't dwell too long on it.

Ears craned causing him to turn his attention aside looking for his discard sword, making it evidently clear he wouldn't actually harm the general seeing as he had been asked so sweetly. Walking a brisk pace, he stooped to pick up the blade twirling the hilt in the palm of his hand before looking or rather glaring over his shoulder to the pair of wraiths. "Lady Faervel," he spoke clearly a little bit of respect in his tone for the woman but not much. "Glad to see you have made it to the camp." he nearly spoke that back sardonically, hands sliding the sword back into the comfort of its scabbard.

Swinging his shoulders around, he dared a warning look to a few of the wraith soldiers that were coming down the hill to check on the general and the lord's wife, he shook his head in a disapproving manner. "If I am sparing his life, then you are releasing hers now." it wasn't a question, it wasn't a statement, it was a demand and one that would be challenged if someone thought he wouldn't take it upon himself to take Holi out of there.

Trudging confidently up the slow slope, he had plucked the small dagger again from his belt slicing it through the bloodied rope, causing Holi to practically leap to him. Perhaps it was hardly smart or wise to be so public to the moment, but knowing how usually strong willed Holi was, he didn't dare point out her frantic nature.

Grabbing the knot that remained around the wrists, he made quick work of it tipping up the tender wrists when the rope fell away and actually thunked her hard on the head with a fist, not enough to actually injure her but enough to make his point of her stupidity. Rubbing her head, tears clung tight in the corner of her eyes as she pouted at him but said nothing mostly due to the harsh call of her own voice now.

Putting the knife away, Krim tilted his chin upwards looking across his shoulder again in a sort of daring glance to the general before he would motion his hand outwards. "Until Next time Hellfire," he tipped his head causing Holi to lift her brow at him, "Lady Faervel, at least someone in this camp knows reason." he spat, his hand resting on the butt of his hilt just in case someone decided that this was still worth a fight over, Krim gave a soft chiding to Holi causing her to resume pouting at him.
 
Linnor watched the elf silently, a deep a frown possible for him who was wet and nearing unconsciousness. However, he was standing by himself, hatred and anger bubbling up in him. Slowly, the fires around the clearing died down, leaving charred remains of the trees. He was tempted to call for his sword and fight the elf as he was, but he could see the stupidity in it. He would probably collapse in the middle of the fight, and he was sure that the elf had none of the compassion two elven children had.

Lady Faervel also watched the elf silently, though her expression was harder to read. She was torn between loyalty to her people and the right thing to do. If she had stood by and did nothing, Linnor would have continued upping the use of his powers, pushing himself to his limits, until his fires either overtook the elf or he grew so exhausted that the elf was able to kill him. Linnor was too close a friend to lose, and the elf was as motal as she was. And now she felt guilt in her chest, but she didn't know why.

As soon as the elves were gone, Linnor was able to let his weakness show. As he slouched, struggling to stand, Faervel moved to him, but he pushed her steadying hand away. That gesture sent a pang of sadness and betrayal through her, and she stepped back, wondering if she had just lost her only true friend. "Linnor," she said, "I'm--"

She was stopped by Linnor growling darkly, "I hate you," just as he fell forwards, out before he even hit the ground. Immediately kneeling by his side, Faervel bit back her tears at what he had said while she tried to turn him over. When she had achieved that, she cradled his head in her lap, brushing his wet hair out of his face.

"I'm sorry, Linnor...I shouldn't have done anything." Though he couldn't hear her, the frown on his face seemed to recede slightly at her words. She didn't dare make any loud noises. She had no idea who might be around the forest, and she knew that neither she nor Linnor was in any state to fight.
 
Conflict reigned supreme in her gaze, lost in the inner turmoil of being ecstatically happy that she had been freed and frighteningly terrified that Krim was about to make her regret even being born.

Not having wasted the time to promptly exit the scene with the crazy wraith general that damn near set the entirety of the forest on fire, and the woman who really didn't look like a wraith that Krim deemed Lady Faervel behind; she had been cautious at throwing looks upwards to the brooding man.

His jaw was working a clear sign that he was currently chewing over his words until he could find a more thoughtful way of putting them rather than just screaming and ranting until he forgot what the real problem had been. "Are-"

"Shuddup." he warned her face turning bright with alarm and blood as she knew it was extremely rare for him to be so frontal and brash with his words even in moments like this. That only meant she had only helped the bubbling anger that was frothing madly in his belly.

Biting down on her lip she stifled the sigh that had threatened to come rolling out rather she turned her gaze towards the ground, studying it as if it had become the most interesting thing in the world!

A hand lifted to point her index finger; "Krim?" he exhaled hard at her, pinching the bridge of his nose trying to make it clear that he had no wish to speak to her or anyone at this very moment, but she was a little lost. Tapping her fingers together, she felt like a child being reprimanded time and time again. "Do you... happen to have an idea of where we are going?"

His nose wrinkled in unison to his brow; the long tendrils of red hair that hung high against the crown of his head swaying back and forth with his movement seemed to be her only response for the first couple of minutes making her wonder if it was wise to even ask that obvious question.

Grunting firstly, Holi jerked back feeling the rapid tapping to the top of her head before Krim narrowed a single eye at her when she made contact. "For now, we make camp, find the other men and see if we can gather or in this case rummage enough supplies from the forest itself to start walking to the Cavern City." She must have had a silly look on her face as Krim stopped firm in the road. "What now?"

Hands beckoned back behind her, "So you just want us," her finger circled between him and her and then exaggerated outwards, "To scamper away looking for the aid of the Drow's while those wraiths are sitting on the front porch of Eathkar, even while it is shielded, that is what you are telling me?"

A grim line spread on his face, "Do you have a problem with that?"

"Many!" she hoarsed daring to raise her voice, rubbing a hand against her throat. "Why not devise a plan to like I don't know, light them on fire!"

"Holi!" He sneered at her forcing her to cringe away, holding up a hand as if it would defend her. "Grow a damn brain would you, being lit a flame once today was enough. And the fact that you are alive walking with me currently is a blessing. I may not take much mercy on the wraiths, but you ought to think a little deeper to the fact that you, have managed to stay upright and above six feet due to them. Even if it wasn't the best place to be, it was still better than most of our men had."

Ears leaned back, guilt swam through her as she dragged a boot through the dirt. "My apologizes."

This time he snorted as he began to walk though she hardly felt that was the end of the conversation. Surely this wasn't going to be the end of the wraiths, especially since now they had just lost a bunch of their captives by the hand of one elven abomination general. It might have been a different story if it had happened over a span of time and the sudden battle between the two generals wasn't interrupted by the wraith lady, but that didn't mean that they wouldn't come looking to redeem their honor. That thought alone left a sour taste in her mouth.

Looking over her shoulder from the way they came, she hummed thoughtfully. They couldn't just run away but they couldn't defend either from that many men, and that crazy son of a bitch General. "Holi!" he bellowed out, forcing her attention right around and her feet to go running after him.

"Quit treating me like a child."

"You are a child."
 
Eventually, some of Linnor's soldiers found the two of them, and the general was promptly taken back to camp. He was left to rest in his tent. Like every other time, he would come to in a while, after his body had recovered, and be perfectly fine. However, in the state he was in he in, he was incredibly vulnerable, and guards were placed all around his tent and on the inside of it as well.

Faervel never left his side, despite the strong words Rochirion had to say about it. She wanted to be there when he woke, even if his last words before his collapse were addressed to her and not the elf, like she was praying for. He was peaceful while he slept, she reflected. He almost looked his real age, which was much younger than many would think.

From his battle prowess, his scars, and the stress lines on his face, he looked to be in his thirties or forties, almost an old man, but Faervel knew he was nearing his twenty-third birthday. It was also almost nearing his nine year anniversary for being in the wraith army. He looked his age when he smiled, and though it was rare, it. even more so now that he was fighting again. Gods above, Faervel thought, he is still so young, but has the weight of the world on his shoulders... Shaking her head sadly, she reached over from where she was kneeling beside his bedroll to gently squeeze his hand.

-----

Outside, just as the soldiers were preparing separate pyres for the elf and wraith bodies, rose petals as dark as night fell like snow from the sky. It was no secret that the Prince of Roses enjoyed large, theatrical entrances, and the appearance of falling rose petals was a sign that meant he was close. The soldiers all shared scared glances and quickened their work, more than a few wishing Linnor was still conscious and was burning the forest to the ground. Perhaps one of fires would have reached the Prince of Roses before he could reach Linnor's camp.
 
Hearing the griping coming at him from across the small space, a few looks were tossed up to him looking for the perpetual guidance that was usually so forth coming but was lacking to the moment. Many of the men that had been freed by his hands, had been wrangled up slowly boosting his own morale though it was still bleaker than it generally was.

A single higher ranked man sat with the woman having her hands shoved down into the cooling fresh spring of water, being cleaned properly and throwing the gritting annoyance of not having to be babied, Holi would eventually silence. He knew personally it was a front, especially after what had transpired. She was stubborn to a core, but that was only a defence in truth he had come to show much admiration for her more tempered genuinely shy side that was only reserved for so select few. He chalked that up to most of her inexperience's of youth and having the burdens of her own father's legacy falling to rest one day on her shoulders. It wasn't common knowledge to outsiders but while Lord Tharuilin was the reigning Regnant Lord, that title didn't mean they were the ones to lead the city. Rather the current lord had married into it, it was always a female who lead the elves as the Mother Queen, a soul responsibility that would fall to Holi when she reached the ripe age in her hundreds, and he was personally thankful she was no were close to it.

Though he wasn't greatly much older, he had more sense than she did on most days.

Raking back the loose hair that hung down by his temples, Krim turned a glancing eye across his shoulder looking around the simple beauty that was the remaining forest. It was hard to believe that this was wasting away with the war around them often reminding not him alone, but others that everything eventually surcame to death, combat or age. It was a hard thing to swallow but it was the truth.

Ears flicked involuntarily as he watched the man who had been addressing Holi leave, meaning she was coming up short behind him. Stretching a look downwards to her, she was still pouting at him. "When you pout, it only makes you prove how childish you are." he put sternly causing her to huff at him, rubbing idly at the tender bandaged wrists.

"I do not need the service of a war horse telling me what to do and what not to do." he caught the glimpse of her rich sapphire eyes being tossed at him through the corner. She was bitter currently, and he could understand to a point. Everything had been turned upside down for her, living in the comfort of own home, tending to her own needs and suddenly being pulled into combat by her father and then having instructions constantly heaved onto her without a thought, she was bound to be mouthy.

Didn't help that he was just as foul of a mood as she was, he was usually the temper to her ass like nature but having so much thrown at him at once, was enough to drive any man insane. Rolling a shoulder with a press of his hand, he turned away from her as he knew it was the very action that she hated the most. In turn she would have turned to look at him fully, feeling like she had just been dismissed by a wave of a hand or ignored completely, Holi would have been frowning lightly at him.

Ears and eyes alike lifted as he cleared his throat to the men, "We rest as much as we can now, there is no telling when we will be able to again. We have the wraith army on the doorsteps of Eathkar and who knows how many more. Our only safety and plan of action is to go to the Cavern City in hopes to replenish ourselves and in turn seek council with the drows."

Some agreed, others didn't and the ones that didn't have an opinion looked lost. Either way, no one would challenge his decision, well perhaps one but he felt he had dealt with that one already. Throwing his gaze carefully over each soldier, they all eventually agreed before he didn't bother to address Holi currently. It was best to ignore her opinion.

Seeming to take real note of this, she let out a irritated growl clenching her hands together before throwing them into the air. Whipping around on her feet to have her back facing him, she stormed off a bit as he could only exhale at the very thing. "Lord Copel... do you think it was wise to let Lady Catalyn leave?"

"Leave her be." he spoke flatly, "She'll have to come to terms eventually with what I am directing."

He knew that was to be true, especially if they were ever able to recover the city. Not only did she had a weighty responsibility eventually on her head, he knew that his wouldn't falter either. Especially if he was suppose to be with Duza and be the council that helped her pick the right choices for the city.
 
. Another ninety minutes had passed before Linnor began stirring. It was slowly at first, a slight fluttering of his eyelashes, a breath heavier than the others. However, soon he was making soft groaning noises. Faervel was surprised by on thing, though. Tears were leaking from his eyes, falling down the sides of his face and getting into his hair.

About an hour came and went by the time Linnor opened his eyes. He was weak, hardly able to move, but the expression on his face was not one she wanted to see. He refused to even look at her as he said, "Leave me. I've no want for your company."

Faervel left swiftly after that, tears springing to her eyes. At the first soldier she saw , she let him know that Linnor was awake. As the soldier disappeared into the general's tent, Faervel noticed the rose petals falling from the sky. Holding out her hand, she caught one in it. As soon as it touched her skin, it burst into tiny pieces, disappearing before her eyes. It was both a beautiful and terrifying sight. Her breath taken away, she gazed upwards at the sky in amazement, not noticing the apprehensive locks the soldiers gave the petals.

Inside Linnor's tent, the general was scarfing down his rations for the day, starving. His shadows had taken all his energy from him, and now his body was trying to reclaim it. However, as soon as the soldier explained what was happening outside, Linnor forced himself to get to his feet. It would not be good for Harndir and the Prince of Roses to think him weak.
 
Idly playing with a foxtail that had grown amongst the long grass of the small open field, she had little desire to go returning to the righteous rule of Krim currently. It was of course easy for him to think of things in a military effort, it wasn't for her. She was bitter to say the least about the entire thing, now not even capable of entering her own home and having the stupid damnable wraiths waiting to strike against her people inside and out.

It was hard to swallow and only fueled her annoyance to strike out at them.

Crouching on her heels, fingers combed along the foxtail brooding like no other though it was clear Krim wasn't going to come apologizing for being an idiot either. They would be in a stalemate for a bit, her struggling with leaving her home even if she wasn't in it and him trying to regroup a small regiment of elves to come back and fight.
 
Linnor walked outside of his tent as soon as he was able to without heaving up what he just ate. As soon as he did, a younger soldier approached him, saying, "We can see them now, sir. It seems that General Harndir and the Prince of Roses are riding while their men follow on foot. They should be here in a few minutes..." The boy pale as he relayed this information, and Linnor sent him to the infirmary just to be safe.

True to the boy's words, Harndir and his partner were at the entrance to camp. Linnor met them there, standing stifly and trying not to let his fear show.

"My friend!" proclaimed Harndir. He was a tall man, with dark hair and eyes. Under normal circumstances, he shouldn't have scared anyone, but everyone in the wraith army had heard of the exploits of the general. His hair was styled like that of an orc, completely shaved off on one side of his head, while the rest of his hair was swept over the other side. His armor was all black, and with no color aside from his general badges. He was older than both Linnor and the Prince of Roses, as evident by his slight slouch. However, by the look of the fresh scars, he had won against younger and agile elves not too long ago. Despite his happy, amiable words, Linnor could bring himself to smile. He knew that the older general's shadows had warped his mind through and through. He held no mercy for anyone, elven or wraith, and beneath his friendly exterior was an emotionless monster. Sure, he could laugh and cry like anyone else, but it was all fake.

"General Linnor," bowed the Prince of Roses. A light smile was on his face as he flicked his wrist, and like that, the falling roses were gone . Harndir's fellow was much fairer than he was, slim and lithe. He wore what appeared to be silks, all in an eggshell white color. He, too, had no color on his clothes, save for two red clasps shaped to be roses that held his cloak to him. The Prince's hair was a brown several shades lighter than Harnsir, and he had noticeably less scars than the general. It wasn't from cowardice; the Prince was easily stronger in battle than Linnor. The Prince was simply too good a swordsman to be hurt as much as others. As Linnor watched the pair warily, he wondered how the Prince wasn't collapsing yet. He had taken his shadows back, right? Then, Linnor remembered the rumors. Some said the Prince of Roses never took his shadows, that they were always released. Even the thought was enough for Linnor to pale . When the Prince was forced to take his shadows back, he might die.

Harndir stepped forwards, seeing the bruise on Linnor's face. Cupping his face in a hand, he turned it from side to side before saying, "You would have done better in my leg of the army. Not with that fool Rochirion, am I right?" At this, Linnor forced a smile.

"Yes," he answered, glad when Harndir let go of his face. "Why don't you come in?" Linnor gestured. "We have much to discuss."
 
Rubbing his face after splashing water on it, men spoke idly to one another. Some conversing what was supposed to be happening while others were weary to comment on the lack of presence of the only woman with them. Uncertain of his own reaction, they kept their words silent but the apprehensive air was enough to choke a man.

Talk about two stubborn mules butting head this time, neither party willing to go to the other in fear that they would be admitting how wrong they were. He hardly felt he was wrong on this subject and sought no inclination to correct it either, but the longer she lingered meant the lost of daylight and they would have to be forced to camp.

That very thought occurred making him wonder if that was exactly her ploy. He wouldn't have put it past the young fiery elf but then again he wasn't about to opt out throwing her across his shoulder kicking and screaming, while they walked. He would wait a while more though, showing his own asinine nature. He would not budge on his decision.

((sorry for the pathetic posts. Im party really curious to the interaction with Linnor, the prince and Harndir, and torn on what i should do with my characters. Not overly fun just interacting with my own lol))
 
Two groups of soldiers came next. It was obvious which soldiers belonged to whom. Harndir, as he was actually a general, had soldiers of all ranks following him. The Prince of Roses was not technically a soldier, so his men were all ragtag deserters, elven turncoats, and whoever else the Prince had been able to recruit into his small army. Granted, the Prince's army was twice the size of Harndir's. They set up camp a ways away from Linnor's, probably because they were told to.

Linnor led the two into his camp, taking them to a small tent. There was a small table in the center, but that was the only furnishing. The table held a map of the city and the surrounding area, as well as several other papers strewn around on it. Walking to the far side of it, he said, "We are here," he pointed, "and as you can see, the elven city Eathkar is there. An elven group, held by me after the initial battle, recently escaped, and left in this direction. As of now, we know that nothing can get in or out of the city. It is not certain, but I think that some of my soldiers are trapped in the city.

"Right," said the Prince. "Well, if I can pinpoint the elves' location, I could send one of my elves to infiltrate their ranks. It wouldn't be hard."

Harndir nodded. "I can send a runner to do reconnaissance."

Linnor frowned slightly. "But if the elves saw it, wouldn't they become suspiscious?"

"Not in the least. They may think we are simply sending a runner to deliver a message," answered Harndir.

The younger general had to agree. "Very well. I will send the runner immediately."

((It's okay! I enjoy reading your posts!))
 
"Stupid egotistical smug overbearing pigheaded son of a motherless ogre bastard telling me what to do and what to do? Who does he think he is, well he has another thing coming if he thinks I am going to just roll over and let him tell me what to do. Screw running away, I will not run away!" she was chanting to herself, fingers bending the long skinny new sapling branch trying desperately not to slap herself with it, though she had done it a few times leaving nice welts on her in various places.

Being left to her own devices might have been the worst choice Krim had ever given and she was going to make him regret every single bit of it.

Had he forgotten her long treks with Lord Arza? Being forced to learn how to hunt, how to scrounge around for anything she could use to save herself or in this case work a new bow? Oh he was stupid, she was convinced of this now.

Rummaging around in the forest ground, she had finally stumbled upon the sinewy plant that she had the unforgettable bitter taste still puckering in her mouth from having to bite it, tearing it apart. It wasn't much really but had she had the right tools she could have made a wondrous long bow, but this would do. It wasn't going to shoot iron head arrows, not even armour piercing.

She was hungry, desperately hungry, pissed off to a new level and hell bent to make someone else know how much a real pain she could be. Forget the name that dogged her, she was a fiery tempered elf that didn't or wasn't going to heed any orders other than the ones she gave herself.

Using her light weight to help bend the sapling so she could loop around the braided plant fibers as a string, she jumped back when it slipped over shooting the bow right out of her hands, across a few feet, she covered her head.

Not being struck again, Holi opened the sapphire gaze to consider the pretty pathetic yet admirable bow she had made, the impish grin spread over her face.

"Oh I bet they won't see this coming, them wraith bastards." she clapped her hands together rubbing them slowly, as she hunkered down to grab up the bow, tossing a quick glimpse over her shoulder and taking a strong bound upwards to tuck up into the tree canopies. "Krim you coward." she cursed, springing from branch to branch back towards the wraith camp. Her determination unbridled her fear to fall to her feet, being forgotten about.
 
Linnor sent for a runner, though it would be a while for him to be ready. While he waited, he struggled to be cordial with the Prince of Roses and General Harndir. Finally, the Prince said, "General Linnor, several years ago, an elven girl in my army gave birth to a little boy. We haven't been sure, as the girl is not with us anymore and his father hasn't come forwards, but we think he may be half-wraith. We think, given your tact with situations like that, you should take him into your care."

Linnor frowned a little, but nodded. "Very well. Let's see the boy."

He led the two out, struggling with walking normally. Simply staying in a tent that size with those two was enough to make Linnor slightly scared. As they made their way to the Prince of Roses' camp, a couple of his soldiers would look to him worriedly. He would nod at them, telling them to get to work with a gesture.

Inside the Prince's camp, the boy was sent for. When he saw him, Linnor was more than shocked. He couldn't have been more than seven, and was practically hiding behind the wraith soldier leading him. Kneeling down to his level, he said, "Hello, little buddy." He forced a smile. The boy was definitely elven, but there was something else in him, too. "Do you want to tell me your name?"

The boy refused to look at him, but a soft, "Alais," was heard.

"My name is Linnor. Do you want to eat something or maybe play a game?" As he heard an aaffirmative to the latter, he stood up, saying, "Come on. We'll go to my camp." Nodding at Harndir, he led the boy to his camp, he looked for his runner, while keeping an eye on Alais.
 
((O.O!!!! A wraith elf cross, ooooooh devilish! I was totally surprised by that, like WOW))

Wiping her brow, determination could only take you so far before it's not welcome cousin came along, exhaustion.

But she had been able to keep up enough of a pace to make up the distance the group had put under Krim's orders, but it was more than she knew she had. Using the groove of the tree to support her weight, she had perched herself up high in the treetop overlooking the wraith camp.

Resting the makeshift bow across her arm, as if she was hugging it, eyes gazed out upon the wide expanse that was the camp. She didn't recall it being that large, it looked like it had another part added onto it! Had they managed to call that many reinforcements that quickly? It had boggled her mind but in the end it meant little. They were already outnumbered by the wraiths, the small collective of elves that Krim had was nothing in comparison. It was really nothing to even bat an eye at, rather it was pathetic.

Sighing, she stretched her legs across the limb of the tree, batting some of the leaves out of her face as she kept looking down to the campsite. She had kept herself upwind just in case they had some sort of creature that tracked scents, Holi hummed lightly. She felt comfortable enough in her position but knew she had to rest to regain the already faltering strength. Perhaps with some relaxing she might be able to unwind her stubborn mind to see real reason.
 
"How old are you, Alais?" he asked, leading the boy by the shoulder to his tent.

The boy answered softly, "Eight and three weeks. So he's older than I thought he was, Linor thought to himself, trying not to stagger as he walked. After waking up, he should have taken time to gain his strength. Now, fatigue was wearing his body down.

If the boy was telling the truth, and he was part wraith like the Prince had said, he was at the age where his shadows would be appearing. He would nneed to find out who the boy's father was, now. "You're getting big, aren't you?" Turning to smile at him softly, he let him in his tent, quickly giving him a charcoal and paper to draw with.

When his runner arrived, Linnor gave him the orders, and he was gone in seconds, the remnants of his shadows warping those at Linnor's feet.

As he was standing there, Harndir approached, calling,"A moment, if you will." When he was close enough, he lowered his voice and said, "General, you must know what is going to happen after the war, right?"

Wary, Linnor asked, "What?"

"You are to be tried for war crimes. The king and his high council believe your actions as General Hellfire went against an old compromisal treaty. After the war, they intend to kill you."

Surprised by this, and scared by it, he paled a couple shades. Why hadn't he been told earlier? Forcing himself to mumbled out a, "Thank you," he turned from Harndir, his heart pounding against the cavity of his chest.
 
Had his temper not been pushed to the edge of reason enough for one day, clearly it hadn't been. He wished he had gone against his own stubborn iron head with the thought of going to attend to the woman sooner, but he hadn't.

Finally realizing that she was going to be more of a pig head than he could be, he had gone in search of her. Only left to find the clear remnants of work being done. It was then he clued into his own stupidity, he had forgotten that Holi had been trained to craft in such a way and now she was about to show him how real dim he was.


Returning back to the site with the other elves, he directed a new leader for the time being explaining they were not to stop to pick up stragglers or other's that could be possibly friendly or foe, they were to go straight to the Cavern city and nothing else.

As much as he wanted too to attend with them, he knew he couldn't.

Removing as much of his armour as possible, a headache began to thump heavily in his blood behind his eyes making it all the more clear how desperate he as for sleep and a meal to his own contentment but none of that matter again, for now.

The chainmail had been the last thing he discard to the side leaving him in the dark slacks adorned with the heavy stitched belt so he could carry his sword, the tight clung sleeveless shirt did little to keep him warm but running corrected that. He rarely showed it but the thick etching of markings spanned against his left shoulder running downwards in twists and turns the eventually gave way to present the marking that showed he had been a part of another clan and not one that was elven. Another reason he had sent the elven men to continue on, he was less than privy to go about showing more people that he was a true blooded elf that so many thought. Rather a cruel experiment of a demon and elf that had only been furthered corrupted when his mother released his name to the head alchemist priory, giving them his life in exchange for her own.

Good thing he had been lucky enough only to endure a few years of that reminding agony before his bonds and ties had been purchased by that of the current Regnant Lord.

It was a muddled existence and a great deal to why he felt the dire need to go tracking down the reckless woman that he knew went back in hopes to silence at least one wraith before she killed herself, if she was lucky.

Though finding her was far more tricky than he wanted to admit.
 
When Harndir had left him, Linnor tried to busy himself by helping prepare their dead. Each man was wrapped in green and silver cloths, with their ranking badges on top. A funeral pyre was. As dusk eventually fell, the pyre was set alight, and one by one each of the soldiers were set in the blaze. Every wraith soldier stood by silently, some of the younger soldiers shedding tears. Through the day, Linnor did not see Faervel, and by the time he returned to his tent, to see Alais asleep on his bedroll, he was tired, but relieved. His men would deal with the elven soldiers, and he could finally sleep once more. Sinking into a chair, he looked at the pictures Alais had drawn, smiling softly at them. He fell asleep in that chair, not wanting to bother the boy, and he didn't stir until morning.

-----

Faervel had remained in her tent all day, fighting back tears as she tried to understand why Linnor had acted that way to her. Hardly eating what was given to her, she drifted in and out of caring. Frowning at her hands, she sat in a chair, her chest feeling tight with guilt.
 
Cupping a hand over her eyes, she stood up to her knees in the deep pool of cold water knowing this forest better than most, she hadn't acted on her angry instincts to start unleashing waves of her eternal magic. For what reason she couldn't understand but she hadn't. It had left her confounded honestly but she had learnt with some slumber and some deeper thought to leave it as is. There was always a reason to all actions and some were just better not understood.

Having waddled through the muddy shore of the cold pond, she had been feverishly lucky to find some soap nuts buried deep down so she could cleanse and properly clean her clothing, skin and hair alike. There was a fine line between looking like a ragamuffin and looking like a crazed beast in the forest.

The sun rose slowly into the sky, painting a marvel of colours against the vision of the water's edge making her frown softly concluded to her own thoughts.

She hadn't honestly been that far off from the wraith camp which could mean possible trouble but she was less than privy to go walking at least a few miles for a warmer spring. She wasn't uncommon with cold in the least, and she knew after so long without water or food, she needed to attend to her own survival.

It took some time and a lot more patience that she really wanted to extrude, but eventually she had dug up some tubers from the ground and berries from one of the not poisonous bushes, she had fed herself acutely before cleaning herself.

Tossing a weary look towards the drying clothing slung over the branch, fingers wafted through the water. Her mind couldn't help but seriously wonder what was the next course of action.
 
Linnor awoke to Alais poking him in the cheek, a smile on the boy's face. "Good morning, Alais," the general mumbled, at first surprised by his pointed ears until he remembered the night before. "Are you hungry?" As the boy nodded, Linnor sighed softly. "Okay. Let's go get my rations for today." Standing up, he led the boy to where rations were being handed out. Getting Alais' name on the list, he took their rations to his tent. As the two ate, Linnor tried to make conversation with the quiet boy, but it seemed he wasn't up for talking.

That morning, as he was checking on everyone, Alais in tow, Linnor saw a hawk land. Unfortunately, so did one of his men. The soldier got to Jed first, and was reading the letter by the time Linnor got there. Judging by the look he was given and the hastily said lie, it was obvious who the letter was about. Waving off the soldier, now sick to his stomach, he forced himself to look to the Prince of Roses when he was called for

"We need to talk, General Linnor," was all that was said.
 
Slipping the wet semi dry clothing over her frame, she sat on the edge of the water's edge combing her fingers through her hair, wondering what she was to do now. Surely Krim would have come to check on her especially after a full night.
 
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