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Stone Eagle Rebellion

She glanced at King and back. She started to feel threatened now. "N- nevermind. It's probably just my imagination." She said as her tail began to droop even more. She had no idea King wasn't talking to her.
 
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"You don't even understand how many followers we have, do you? The people who were imprisoned were only a handful of people, but we take care of our own. The people here are just the people who were exiled. We have a massive following all over the continent. You don't know the politics of our cause, do you?" He walks out of the tent, the wall crumbling before him. He pauses just before exiting. "If you are going to leave... have fun getting devoured by the forest with no horse and no food or water."
 
No remorse, no compassion, no regard for the fallen: At least three peasants had died for every one guard, each one with families and dreams and hopes. Of course, the losses didn't matter. Their following was massive. This Nyx was probably more evil than the tyrant king. At least the tyrant recognized the people that had fallen in terms of lost coin or as expendable pawns in the great game of thrones. This Nyx just didn't seem to care at all. Worse, he said so right in front of everyone in the food tent. It just didn't bother him at all that ten or more people had died saving his hide alone.

"Who is going to protect them from you," the elven courtesan questioned rhetorically as Nyx stomped off.

The real question, now that Nyx had left, was why did she care? She was a former slave, had been stepped on most of her life and she'd done a fair bit of stepping herself. So what if a dozen people had died helping her escape prison? Why should she care if it were a hundred or a thousand? By the Nine Hells and planes of concordant opposition she had been thinking about turning them all in, each and every one, and yet she felt the need to step in on their behalf. Her master, Pasha Alkiel, would have called it a womanly weakness, common to her entire sex but then she was a cold hearted bitch when it came to most things. Why now?

Already her mind was teeming with ideas. As a courtesan to the courts she'd been trained in politics and war. Nobody had ever expected her to engage in such things but she was ever the embodiment of nobility. She'd only been trained in such things in order to carry a conversation with men so interested but that instruction, that training was useful here. She knew how to beat the brush, knew how to flush the quail. She knew how to win this war, knew it wasn't about simple tactics but ephemeral symbols and the raw application of terror.

-and yet, why should she bother? She'd be a target, the most hunted woman in the land for helping. It wasn't like they'd accept a woman as a leader anyways no matter how great her ideas. Men would lay down their lives by the hundred before listening to the prattling of a woman no matter how learned. One thing was certain. She was going to need a new dress. A dancing outfit that left her nearly naked wasn't the sort of thing one wore when fighting a war.
 
"I saw something," Marcos insisted, standing still in case there were any bugs around.
 
Nyx storms down the path and goes to the massive ancient oak tree in the center of the cove. He crawls into the trunk and climbs up to a small alcove. He sits down on his cot and puts his head in his hands with a sigh, already regretting what he had said. He also knew he was the one who had to give the news to the fallen men. He opens a small book and starts jotting down the names of the fallen that he knew of already. He stands up and steps out of a hole onto one of the branches to stare up at the stars. A young man with bright red hair climbs down a few branches to Nyx and greets him. "Hey, Nyx. Good to see you guys made it out alright." He looks down on the village. "How many didn't make it?" He asks with a frown. Nyx shakes his head "Too many..."
 
"I- uh... I need to get out of this cave. Care to join me, Marcos?" She asked, tryjng to give him a clue as to what she was trying to do. King, more than anything, scared her. She didn't like him at all. He was too strong and could kill her in one fell swoop. But it wasn't her, as much as it was her comrades, she was worried about.
 
"Umm..." he glanced around at everyone. Ash was the most trustful. Until he remembered she'd put a bug on him, that is. King was up to something, and Marcos didn't know what but he was curious. The tall monster Marcos couldn't morph into was also grabbing his attention. "Sure," he eventually said after spacing out and working out positions. He followed her.
 
After getting out if earshot from King she grabbed Marcos and turned him to face her. "I really don't trust him. His huge, he's scary and he can kill anyone and everyone in this camp." She said, still having a hushed tone. "But that's not the only thing. I feel like something is going on outside the cave."
 
"Like what?" Marcos raised his eyebrows in disbelief. It was strange how she was acting.
 
"I don't know, dude! It's just a vibe, it doesn't give all the details." She said, her tail starting to lift back up and flick. She folded her ears back.
 
"Don't you think you're being a tiny bit paranoid?" Marcos asked. He raised his eyebrows in a way now that said 'Because I think you are.'
 
"You know what. Forget it." She said as her tail flicked frantically and she stormed out of the cave.
 
"Yeah, I thought so!" he called after her, before jumping at the sight of a cockroach and following after her.
 
She looked behind her for a split second to see Marcos. "I'm not the only paranoid thing here I see." She said to him, slight annoyance in her tone.
 
"I'm not paranoid. There was a cockroach. They are pesky," Marcos insisted. She was annoyed, he could tell, but he wasn't one who stepped down often.
 
She scoffed and looked down to see a spider. "Spiders are also pesky. But I find them to be quite helpful. They eat bugs ya know." She said as she picked it up. It was a small tarantula. She turned around and showed it to him. "In this case they also eat birds." She stated.
 
Marcos avoided it as if he would be killed by it. Perhaps he thought he was, "Put it down," he whispered, visibly pale and terrified, "Please, stop." He stepped backwards from his position.
 
"Oh come on! This thing won't hurt you unless you hurt it. And really all it does is throw hairs." She said. "Or bite..." She finished, murmuring. She put it down and it scurried into a tiny hole. "There. Happy?"
 
"Not really," Marcos watched it walk, "I thought you wanted to leave."
 
"Whatever. I honestly only stopped to pick that spider up." She snickered before turning to walk again.
 
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