The Dragon Wardens

[bg=#F5E538]

9fihn9R.png

[/bg][bg=#F5E538][bg=#339588]
The unmitigated gall of the woman on horseback was almost to much for Raleia to take, and had she been even a fraction less composed, she might have proven the eldest Warden's advice necessary. The simple fact was, whether it had been Malan or Lisella, she knew that the negotiations would hardly run swimmingly. Neither were likely to admit that their actions against the Wardens were misguided. Blaming the Wardens seemed the only trick the wicked woman knew, and Raleia hardly expected her words to silence her... All she could hope was that she had shed some degree of light on the deception, that she had somehow discredited the former Warden.

Aurea's attempts were noble, but hardly effective. The simple fact remained now wasn't the time for studied or unbiased negotiation tactics. There was too much pain, too many open wounds on either side for pleasant introductions and warm greetings. All they could do was put forward their terms and hope to the Maker nothing fell to pieces.

Still... for someone relatively acclimated to a peaceful nature, she would have given quite a lot to strike Lisella across her lying mouth. It was infuriating, hearing those same tired accusations thrust at them, knowing by now they had been disproved time and time again. Lisella knew the truth about the attack on Edlenfeld, by now, they all did... but she would continue in her attempts to discredit because it was all she had left - a last ditch effort to maintain control. Raleia wouldn't call it desperation, but it felt a lot like it.

At Lisella's remarks, Raleia narrowed her eyes, "Careful... Apparently, you know all too well what it takes for a Warden to abandon their position to darkness."

Gratefully, Gabad'zul seemed hardly swayed by the harpy's interjections and with his ultimatum clearly stated, Raleia almost found a smile. Almost. It wasn't ideal... There were still innocent people within Rosenfall and the likelihood of cooperation seemed so slim. But attempting to come to any other terms while Lisella was hellbent on pushing her agenda against the Wardens seemed foolish, at best.

"These terms are acceptable..." She issued, nodding solemnly to Addiver and Paulson, "One day's time..." Her eyes moved to Lisella with challenge, "What happens if you fail to deliver is on you."​

[bg=#F5E538]@Effervescent[/bg][/bg][/bg]
 
Last edited:
  • Like
Reactions: Owl
Aurea found her attempts to make peace rebuked by the irate advisor. How could the queen have chosen her as a representative when anything that came out of her mouth was an insult. Whatever peace Aurea was hoping to achieve was quickly squandered by the Thalls.

As if insults weren't enough, accusations followed. Claims were made that the dragon wardens were responsible for a massacre in Edlenfeld. This was the first time Aurea was hearing of this. She knew the shadow wardens were responsible and thought the wardens were mistaken as the perpetrators for the simple fact that they both rode dragons. Even if some wardens did participate, that was no excuse to carry out a genocide against the innocent.

Gabad'zul then issued his own ultimatum: the Thalls would have one day to deliver food or war would start. Raleia spoke on behalf of the Wardens, confirming their acceptance. But Aurea could not let it end there. They were compared to those that destroyed the Haven. She felt she had to prove that they were wrong about the wardens.

"If we were the monsters you claim we are," Aurea proclaimed, "We wouldn't be having this discussion, nor would we have offered you time to prepare. Surely the queen did not send you with a white flag to deliver insults and accusations. I ask again. For the sake of those behind you, what are the queen's terms for peace?"

Aurea was much more forceful this time as she addressed the Thall representatives. She did not wish for this to end in war, one that would surely dwindle the wardens' numbers. They couldn't afford to lose anyone else.
 
oFwFWHL.jpg

In the shadow of the twin armies, Coleite sat upon Briseis, ears straining to hear snatches of the conversation emanating from the no-mans-land between the advancing armies and the figures upon horseback. Thallas negotiates. Who, from the looks of it, weren’t doing a swell of a job. With nerves eating at her insides, Coleite bristled and chewed on her lip. She didn’t like to wait, who in their right mind would? She watched as fellow Wardens, with their brilliant red hair, stood bravely in said land. Part of her yearned to be with them. The other part, well, it was still digesting Idhrenan’s words.

She urged Briseis forward, if only a few paces, before realizing how intimidating the large blue-white ice dragon could be. He halted after a soft stroke of his feathered neck. Coley, finding some kind of courage deep within herself, decided to join her fellow Wardens. Briseis crooned in warning as Coley jumped down from the saddle. She ignored him, otherwise she’d only stay and miss out on whatever was happening. And with so few Dragon Warden’s left, providing a united front seemed like the right thing to do.

Before walking over however, Coleite grabbed her mace and belted it to the holster upon her waist. She’d bring force yet call upon it only when necessary. Hopefully the riders would realize that she, like the twin armies marching towards Rosenfall, wouldn’t hesitate to use brute force if the need arose. Crossing the distance with lithe, long strides, Coley caught the last snatchets of Gabad’zul’s demand. It was reasonable, to her, and she nodded her head towards the Orc Commander.

Coley walked towards her fellow Wardens, falling in behind the youngest of the bunch. Olsten, if her memory served her well. She nudged him slightly, and nodded towards the trio of riders.

“What do you think’ll happen here?” Coley asked softly, uncharacteristically nervous.

@Mactomaton @Effervescent @errybody
 
FERIA
Feria, for once, listened, rather than argued.

There was strain within her being as the negotiations progressed. She did not directly participate, which at this point, was likely a good thing. Raleia seemed to be the one taking the position of "feisty negotiator," so Feria supposed she had best stay back. While things unraveled, she kept the crystal of her necklace in her palm. Thannel's warning had struck something within her, but more so the fact that Raleia had a necklace as well. Feria gazed at the warden uncertainly. Zachary never really did fail to stun her, even after his death.


Lisella was a fool, but she was playing strong. The accusations were wildly untrue, the dragon wardens with shadow were truly not affiliated with their rag-tag band of redheads, The dragon wardens that had turned against them were now proving to be their demise. Hale. She spared a glance at Idhrenan, before landing on Olsten and letting out a deep sigh. Did he know?

Still, the accusations were distracting from their main purpose -- the negotiations. Gabad'zul grew impatient, and stated the terms. Within a day, there would either be peace or war. Feria felt this satisfying enough, but a little child did not. Feria found it intriguing, how all the young wardens seemed to be so desperate to insert themselves into the mess.

Despite the girl's fairly logical statement, Feria knew it would do them no good. Lisella had no intentions of seeing the wardens in a good light -- not even their peppy little speaker would change that. War was war. And despite all of the Thall's efforts, Feria could not help but feel as if they wanted a fight.

Feria inched closer to Olsten, ignoring the new warden that seemed only to want to chat. "Olsten," Feria murmured under her breath. "Do you.. know, of Hale?" She said softly.

@Mactomaton @rissa
 
Last edited:
~Waethrin~​

Raleia sided with the orc, agreeing with his terms and giving the impression that she'd consider little else. It was an understandable reaction; it was only natural to want blood for blood, and the little that had been spilled in Rosenfall was nowhere near an equal amount. He felt his own temper boiling beneath his skin, screaming to be let loose and to burn the ranks of the Thall army to ash. It would only be right; it would only be fair.

But Aurea was going about this the proper way. He was becoming more and more sure of that. She sought a peaceful end, and that meant a compromise. Compromise. It was an ugly word to the old Warden, for it meant that no one came away happy. It allowed the frustration and anger of conflict to remain and fester, and only postponed violence. But what violence had been done had clearly solved nothing. There would either need to be far more of it, or none at all. And the latter option was certainly and clearly the moral choice. But it seemed like this would not happen while Lisella remained a factor in the discussion.

Waethrin stepped forward energetically, propelled by a focused mind. In his younger days, he might have bounded up with the clarity of his purpose. His eye flashed, twinkling in the sunlight, as he scanned the Thall party.

"You come under the flag of truce. Why? To allow the manipulative spite of a bitter old woman to dictate these proceedings? To allow her to further drive a wedge between potential peace and those present? You are fools if so." Red blossomed across his face, and his cheeks were like roses. "She, like me, is soon gone from this world, and bears little stake in it. For this reason, I have remained silent until now.

"But I will no longer. Lisella and I have matters for discussion, matters that little concern those occupied with more important matters. Come, once-friend!" He raised his voice, staring at her in obvious restraint. He wrinkled his cherry-red nose, wind burned from his travels. "We must speak separately of things long past."

Without waiting for reply or even acknowledgement, Waethrin turned away and began trudging toward a spot some 30 yards right of the main group, near a short rock formation that pushed out from the plains. But as he did so, he glanced at Aurea, gave a wink, and with a twist of his head laid his finger aside of his nose. His walk was slow and heavy, and he made the trip without further commentary.

@Toogee @Effervescent @everybody_else
 
Thallas
Gabad’zul’s words set visible fear upon the hearts of the Thalls. The soldiers behind them murmured to each other while Lisella glared at the orc. Paul and Addiver shifted uneasily in their saddles as they thought about their family and friends presiding within Rosenfall alone. Raleia’s agreement only brought about shock that widened their eyes.

“Hey, now,” Addiver said quickly, “let’s not be hasty!”

Aurea bit back just as hard, accompanied by Waethrin as they pointedly spoke out against the contradiction of their white flagged party. Lisella was proving more of a wall than water to work with, but it seemed as though Gabad’zul did not care. Prince Asal leaned in to speak to the orcish leader quietly as Waethrin proposed a private meeting with the queen’s advisor. Lisella did not nudge her horse’s flanks to follow the old Dragon Warden. She visibly frowned, brow wrinkling further with a furrow. She almost looked like she were about to cry, mouth partially agape as she turned her head to look back at Gabad’zul.

“A day’s time, then,” she agreed.

Paul lowered his tone as well to speak to Lisella. She turned her head and muttered a response before he reluctantly nodded.

"Very good, then,” Gabad’zul said. “You know where to find us.”

As Lisella moved to meet with Waethrin away from the crowd, Paul and Addiver led the Thall party away and back towards Rosenfall. Idhrenan turned back to the remaining Dragon Wardens adorning her own concerned frown.

“We must patrol the area,” she suggested. “And urge any locals to seek refuge away from the front. Or at least do the best that we can to encourage them to do so. If there is any armor to spare here, adorn it. Their arrows and swords may not do much to our dragons but they can surely harm us. Split up into pairs or small groups. No traveling alone.”

Currently

For your next post I want you guys to consider collaborating a patrol. Anything is allowed to happen from uneventful to warning a family to finding Guides with a small cache of armor to locals resisting aid. Just nothing on a grand scale that would incite a war! Of course, if you have any questions or hesitancy on how to proceed you can always ask.

If anyone cannot collab at a good pace, do state in the PM. Idhrenan is available, but Waethrin will be speaking with Lisella and will miss the opportunity to pair up initially. There can always be a Waethrin patrol collab if you have the time, Red.

Treat your next collab post as you would a brief 1x1. You have complete control. All I ask is that your characters return to the camp before the day is done.

My next post will be in a week’s time!


@CloudyBlueDay @Elle Joyner @Red Thunder @rissa @Mactomaton @Toogee
 
~Diplomacy~
A collab between Red Thunder and @Effervescent

Waethrin stood by the small rock formation, arms crossed and face dour. His encouragement to Aurea had been forced, his gesture as false as the flag of truce the Thalls carried. It irked him deeply that they should try such an underhanded maneuver; they had been in decades past a forthright people, at least to his fading memory, and that they spoke aggressively and as martyrs beneath the cloth's shadow told him more of the passing of time than he wanted. Though, to be fair, it was not the two men who rode at the head of the Thall army who spewed forth accusations and hate, but Lisella. Maybe, perhaps, by removing her from the negotiations, some kind of agreement could be reached.

But no; it seemed as though things had reached conclusion for the moment. The old man turned just in time to see the Thalls pull back from the place of meeting, with Lisella notably riding toward him at a hesitant pace. He glanced back to where Idhrenan was advising her fellow Wardens; Ancalagon stood among them, warily eyeing both Waethrin and Lisella. But he sensed no direct concern from his Warden, though he failed to hide his own uncertainty.

As she neared, Waethrin dropped his arms to his side, purposefully adopting a less aggressive stance, and greeted her with as little bias against her as he could manage.

"I didn't expect to see you, given the circumstances of our last meeting."

She had dried her welling tears as she reached the rock, but she did not dismount from her horse as she stopped before Waethrin. Her expression had hardened to a bitter stare as she looked down at her former mentor. The burns from his explosion peeked from under the frill of her collar in an angry reddened mess covered in light cloth wrapped around her neck.

"You did almost kill me," she said. "Does that disappoint you?"

His brow knit in consideration, his eye regarding her coldly.

"If it did, I wouldn't have proposed the meeting."

A million questions filled his head: Where had she been; What had she been up to; Why offer truce only to offer insult? Only one fell from his mouth, however, despite its irrelevance to the situation at hand. It was a question that the old man had been dying to know the answer to ever since he'd seen her conducting the execution of her former brethren.

"Lisella," Waethrin breathed gravely, "where is your dragon."

It was not a question. Even now, decades later, the scene of shadow-twisted wyrmlings that he had stumbled upon in the hidden tunnels of the Haven still burned hot in his mind. The fearful surety that a similar fate had happened to her companion gnawed his mind and brought a deep ache to his heart.

She cast her eyes away from the Inferno as her frown deepened the aging lines around her thinning lips. Her head shook ever so slightly with a thought, her mind seemingly distant as she considered the question Waethrin had presented. Out of all the possible questions, she least expected him to inquire into the whereabouts of her dragon. It was clear the thought hurt her.

"She's gone," she stated simply before turning back to look at her former mentor. "Is that all you wanted to know?"

His eye flashed, and he opened his mouth to reply in anger. It closed just as immediately, better judgement apparently winning out against his emotions. He still regarded her coldly, but he remained silent, breathing slowly and deeply as he calmed himself. As he did, Waethrin glanced passed her, ensuring that his companions were still as yet safe.

"Why the charade? Why the flag of truce? You spoke little save words of accusation; not the words of one seeking compromise." He raised a hand. "And do not speak to me of the words of my fellow Wardens; I ask of you and your reason only. You spoke in that manner prior to any remark of my friends."

"You are gravely mistaken if you think this is a charade," she stated simply, her tone matching his own cold demeanor. "I am here to save Thallas. Rosenfall cannot be overrun. But the orcs do not wish for compromise. That much was clear. And so I am to make do with what I have to work with based on what little was achieved due to all of your presence here today. You wouldn't understand. I tried to tell you once but you never wanted to listen. So why should I explain myself to you yet again?"

"Because you brought about the Haven's destruction, woman! You delved into Shadow Magic and used it upon wyrmlings for gods know what reason, only to flee! You left me behind, Lisella, abandoning everything I taught you, and for what?!" His voice rose in volume, the care he'd taken in ensuring it didn't gone. Fire filled his eye, burning away the cold calculation before hand. "Explain yourself? Please! I am anxious to hear why the bloody hell you did what you did. And no explosions this time."

In a huff, he turned and planted himself solidly on the small outcropping, arms crossed.

"Do fucking tell."

Her horse shifted its weight from one leg to another, tail swishing as it waited next to Waethrin's perturbed form. Lisella took in a deep breath and exhaled more slowly as she took the breadth of his berating. She kept her voice still at a more privately appropriate tone carrying with it a terse staccato.

"I had a vision of the world brought to ruin," she said. "Those with natural magic will destroy all humans. But there is a place I can take them. I have been there, Waethrin. I fled only by accident, for I was thrown..." She halted her words, mouth held slightly agape in her hesitancy. Leaning forward, she dismounted from her horse and produced within the folds of her garment a strange contraption. It was the size of her forearm and made of metal and wood and rested in her hand with a heft. She pulled back a piece like a hammer on the length of it, a snap emitting before she held it up to Waethrin. The length was like an open cylinder with a darkened hole.

"I've been to another world, Waethrin," she said before lowering the object. "A better world. Humans stand a chance there. Or at least with the advancement of technology. The magic and non magic would be balanced here if we allow the bridge between our worlds to be formed. This object is called a pistol, I believe. It is a weapon. It can take a life faster than you can cast a spell. I will not use it today, nor will I tomorrow when we deliver our debt to the orcs. I need your word you will allow us to conduct this business without further interference by the Dragon Wardens. We can settle our discord another day."

Waethrin eyed the device long and hard, his short rapid breathing slowing and lengthening in rhythm.

"This isn't about us, now, Lisella. This is about them." He unfolded his arms, raised a hand, and pointed to the mass of orcs and elves some distance away. Slowly, the finger rotated, coming to rest at last in the direction of Thallas. "And them as well.

"A vision? Tch. I have never taken much stock in those; they 'give insight to fate', I've heard, but that leaves little to the self-realization of those not receiving it. What happens if the vision is wrong? What then? You will have doomed entire races to destruction and death, merely because you grew afraid."

Crossing his arms once more, he held her in his gaze, considering her. His shoulders were bowed, his back unable to maintain a straight stance for any length of time. His brow was furrowed perpetually, but it seemed perhaps deeper than usual, as if considering his words here with far more gravitas than any before. One side of his mouth pulled back in a grimace.

"What happened, Lisella; what happened to the woman of fire and passion? Why did you allow this...madness to shadow your life? To drive you in a direction not your own?"

"Because I have seen more than you can imagine," Lisella said as she took a step closer to her former friend. "A vision, yes, but those are not even solid. Visions can change. I have seen more than just a glimpse of what could be. I lived in a world where humans thrive. Do you not see I have not changed? It is you who has changed. You abandoned the Dragon Wardens to whither away in isolation while the world breaks apart around you. And yet you judge me for abandoning the Dragon Wardens for a cause you still refuse to understand. At least I am working towards a goal. Now leave us be. I have work to do and lives to save."

"What would you have done," he raised voice, eye downcast, as he ignored her end of the conversation, "had I come with you? Hell, what could I have done to prevent you from pursuing the shadow at all?"

She turned away and reached up for the edges of the saddle. The movement stung and sent a wince through her teeth bared in a grimace. Mounting the horse, she looked back down at Waethrin coldly.

"My pursuit of Shadow was mere curiosity," she said. "Had you come with me, you would have experienced what I had. And you would know what has to be done for the greater good." A pause in thought halted her words as she reflected upon his final question, and she gathered her reins in her gloved hands.

"Part of me wishes you took the time to keep me away from my morbid curiosities," Lisella admitted. "I have been plagued ever since, but I learn to live with my choices. And so should you."

Waethrin looked up, his expression no longer cold or angry but rather filled with resigned regret.

"Would that I could. But it is not easy losing a friend, even years later. All the more when it seems her path is self destructive.

"I will abide by the agreement between the Thalls and the orcs," he sighed heavily. "But you know as well as I that what the other Wardens do is beyond my control. But after this arrangement has been completed, the issue of the Shadow will arise for us once again. Reconsider your choices, Lisella. I would that you not be our foe again."

Lisella stuffed the foreign weapon back beneath the folds of her winter coat as she situated herself upon the saddle. "I cannot back down from this," she said solemnly. "Please stay out of it, Waethrin. For both our sakes."

Nudging her horse's flanks, she moved back towards her exiting party, sparing only a glance to Gabad'zul and the scattered remaining Dragon Wardens.

He watched as she rode away, his face still tight with anxiety.

"Nor can I, my friend. Nor can I."

The ground shook gently at Ancalagon's approach; Waethrin never looked away from Lisella's retreating form. As if sensing that he needed the time to introspect, the Drake merely lay down behind him, keeping watch.
 

Addiver Cald
A Collab with @Elle Joyner

It wasn’t their best negotiation, though in truth, Raleia wasn’t entirely convinced there was much that could have done differently, to alter the outcome. The fact of the matter was, relations were strained on all sides, and for however much they liked to think that they were above it, even the Wardens felt the tension. She wasn’t necessarily proud of her own responses, but she wouldn’t go so far as to say she regretted her actions or her words. The lies were too much, and too many good, innocent people had suffered and died as a result of them.

As the Thalls turned to go, all but their failure of a negotiator, Raleia sighed. She didn’t like it, the idea of Waethrin meeting with the woman, but she wasn’t keen on approaching either, and even if she had been, she doubted very much she could convince the old man what was best. He didn’t seem the sort of learn from his mistakes, but perhaps it was for the best. Lisella would be occupied, at the very least.

Looking upwards into the sky, she smiled faintly, shaking her head… She could feel Winnock’s agitation… could practically hear him, begging to take a bite out of Lisella. Tempting, really. Very tempting, “Not today, Dear Heart… Not today.”

Eyes dropping to the horizon again, she watched the wake of the soldiers and frowning softly, she started after them, “Addiver!” She called, when she was close enough, her gaze drifting briefly to the other man on horseback, before returning to the Guide, “A word?”

He turned, his horse guided with the pull of his reins as he looked to the source of the call. Paul did not fight back his perturbed expression. "We have work to do, Cald," he spat in a low tone.

"It'll only be a moment," Addiver assured. "Lisella will escort me back if I'm too far behind, I'm sure. You can raid the food stocks without me."

Paul Paulson had his family close in mind to where Addiver's loitering was of little concern to him. As to be polite, Addiver dismounted from his horse, gathering his reins in hand as he approached the Dragon Warden.

"What can I do for you?" he asked.

Watching until the other man had continued, Raleia turned to Addiver with a shake of her head, “Forgive my curiosity. When last we met, you seemed to be under the impression Queen Malan was all too aware that you were aiding us, against her will. Now she has you handling negotiations for her? And with that woman, no less? Something about all of this doesn’t feel right, and I would be remiss if I didn’t say something, before it’s too late. You saved mine and Ollie’s lives, Addiver… and I am indebted to you, greatly. Please, be careful? I’ve a feeling none of this was meant to go well, and I don’t imagine the worst of it will come from Thallas or the Orcs. Something is moving here… beneath the surface, it has been for some time. There’s worse coming… and for all you’ve done for us, you don’t need to get caught up in the middle of it.”

Addiver bit back a wave of words he wanted to spill out to Raleia. There was just too much, and all he could do for a moment was shake his head defiantly. "Something's up with Queen Malan," he admitted in a low tone, his eyes shooting over to look at Lisella momentarily in a thought. "But she wanted me here specifically to act as a buffer of sorts. She was supposed to attend but Lisella didn't want to risk her life. I mean, I understand it, really. Even you..."

His voice trailed off, and he sighed and drug his hand down his face as if to wipe away his anxiety. "Look, Raleia," he continued. "I have to stick in the middle of this. Thallas doesn't have enough food to pay back the orcs. Not near enough to even make the orcs happy to leave us be. I have a duty to protect those I care about from something I wish wasn't inevitable. If you feel indebted to me, I implore you to find a way to make the orcs leave."

"I have tried..." Frowning, Raleia glanced back in the direction of their camp, "I don't know how to prevent any of this. I... I know what I said and how it must have sounded, and you may not believe me, but I don't want this. I don't. Even if it weren't against everything we stand for as a people, it's not right. War solves nothing. It never has and never will. No more innocent blood should be shed over this disaster. But they're angry, Addiver. The Orc... and they have a little right to be. Their people will not survive without food. Food that they were promised. I cannot see a way to resolve this. Not when Malan won't even face what she's done."

Pinching the bridge of her nose, Raleia sighed in frustration, "There are too many voices, and I don't know how to make anyone see reason. Believe me, I'm open for suggestions, but there isn't much time. I might be able to convince the Orc to afford Malan another day or two, but from what you're saying, I don't suspect that would help.”

He struggled to continue, and the weight of his coming words held visibly on his features as he lowered his head. "Do you know what... What Thalls have been living off of?" he asked.

A brow quirked for a moment, before her eyes traveled skyward, to Winnock circling overhead, "...I had wondered..." Fingers curling into fists, tightly enough that her nails pinched her palms, she looked back to him, "If the others find out, there will be nothing anyone can do. She murdered our people... butchered our dragons. I can't see any way to save her... but Thallas should not burn with her. I cannot reason with their conscience... but maybe I can shed light on rational thought. There will be nothing left, if this comes to a war. Their circumstances won't change, and it will not hold off the encroachment of the Shadow. But I will have to give them something..."

"I don't think you understand," he said with slight frustration. "You just required Thallas to turn in a debt of food we do not have by our poor harvest alone. There is at least one dragon I know of that is being held prisoner in Rosenfall's walls and you just sent it to the butcher. To top it off, you've now put me in a compromising position."

"Then why let Lisella run the negotiations? Why not speak up? What options were we left with, or given, for that matter? Malan's hand is on all of this. And behind her, Lisella... She's been manipulating everything. What have we to work with but what we've heard from others? Everyone wants us to figure this out... to fix things in their favor, yet we're being told half truths... sometimes outright lies! Do you not understand? Maybe Rosenfall is at risk, yes... but most of our people are dead, Addiver. And yet Thallas wants us to negotiate them out of a war that their own Queen is responsible for bringing to their walls? I am sorry for the position you've been put in... Really, I am. I meant what I said, about being in your debt. But we came here, hoping to put a stop to this madness, and Malan didn't even see fit to speak on behalf of her people. If you want someone to blame, she's right there in her high tower, no doubt where she'll remain... protected, as her city falls."

Running her fingers through her hair, Raleia sighed, "Where are they being held? The dragon?"

"In the castle," he said. "I didn't interfere because a lot of lives are on my shoulders. All those guides were captured with me. And Dromast. Lisella could have them all hanged if she felt I was interfering. She isn't like Queen Malan. I know it may seem strange, but when the queen released me she said she had a moment of clarity. That she wanted to show she wanted peace. I have a lot of speculation and not enough evidence, but she did say Lisella was a Dragon Warden. Makes you wonder... I'm more afraid of her judgement than the queen's. And I don't think the queen is fit for the blame."

"She's dangerous... The unknown always is. I have no doubt in my mind she would bring this to war, more than willingly. I just don't understand why... or what she stands to gain. My only thoughts are she must be involved with the Shadow Wardens." Biting the corner of her lip in thought, Raleia frowned, softly, "I don't imagine there's a way to get the dragon out without drawing attention to you and the others. Damn... one obstacle after another."

Addiver's head shook, his eyes scanning over the lines of orc as they remained in position staring out at the exiting Thall party. He had never felt so much hopelessness in all his life. "There isn't a way," he said, and then looked back at Raleia. "At least not for the likes of you. You're too obvious, after all." He huffed a small laugh in an attempt to lighten the mood, but it did little to lift his spirits.

"I might could smuggle you in," he said thoughtfully. "But... you can't go in on your Dragon. And I wouldn't recommend having it anywhere near Rosenfall. What's your magic?"

With a sardonic chuckle, Raleia shrugged, "Fire. Not exactly subtle, or much good for sneaking around. Burning down Rosenfall won't help matters, much." Expression falling, she sighed, "I can't ask you to do that, anyway. You've risked enough, as it is. If you were caught... It's like you said. Lisella won't hesitate to hang the lot of you, and you've heard how convincing she can be. If I were attuned to Arcane..."

"No, no," he said, "fire is just fine. It can heat the iron chains and weaken the links. It would actually make it quick work... if you'd be up for it. The getting out part is the trick. The dragons are never subtle in their escape." He ran his hands through his hair nervously, head shaking as a thought festered. "Freeing the dragon means war is inevitable. The orcs will advance on Rosenfall, and its likely we will be wiped from existence for our transgressions. It'll be good-bye. I'll have to stay and face what comes. You'll need to understand that now so that there aren't any problems later. You'll need to get Dromast and Lo to safety."
"I can't make that decision. And certainly not on my own. Even one life in exchange for another is not a trade. Not one I'm willing to make. If you could just stall them... There has to be a way to do this, without cataclysm. If the Orcs could just see that the real threat isn't in Thallas... That we're wasting time, here..."

"You know I can't do that," he said in return. "The orcs don't care about us. They care about their dues and we have nothing to convince them to give us more time. Even a week's extra is not enough for the debt. We have to hope next harvest has a better yield, but I doubt they can even wait a year. The queen had women and children removed from the city. I think they might be headed South for refuge. As long as they only overrun the city and not go after the others I can die peacefully."

Lowering her gaze, Raleia shook her head, "...That's no way to pay off a debt, Addiver. It's not right. Any of this. It can't be the only outcome." It had been easy to think, after the fall of Haven, that Rosenfall's end would be justified, but the simple truth was, it was just tiring and sad... the violence. And with no end in sight, it seemed so hopeless, "What would you have me do?"

The only response he could muster at first was an uncertain shake of his head and a shrug of his shoulders. He had reached a stage of numbness in his hopelessness as he tried to reconcile with his fate. "Survive, I suppose," he finally said to her. "Survive and carry on."

Tenatively, she stretched out her hand and laid it over his arm, "It seems inevitable... but if I can find a way to stop this, I will. I swear it. We can't give up hope. It's all we have left."

Addiver forced a smile, his arm swinging around to pat her own arm as he shrugged away the gloom. "We'll figure something out, I'm sure," he said, and then nodded behind him. "Best be off before Paulson rings my neck."

Mounting his horse, he gave a nod to Raleia. "See you around."

Watching him, Raleia gave a nod, managing a small, weary smile at his words, "See you..."
 
[bg=#F5E538]

9fihn9R.png

[/bg][bg=#F5E538][bg=#339588]
Hope waned. What small shred of it Raleia had clung to seemed steadily to be unraveling, and the more she grasped for it, the faster it spooled out around her. Addiver’s fate was uncertain, but her conversation with the man had not left her with a sense of comfort or control. She’d watched him ride off, back towards Rosenfell and the weight in her chest grew heavier with every pound of her heart, until she was convinced that it would be the last time she saw him alive.

He had saved her life, and it had been her intention to repay him the debt she owed, yet somehow she was positive that she had doomed him, instead.

There was work to do… too much work, impossible work, but Raleia couldn’t straighten out her thoughts past the tragic realization that she had effectively sentenced a man to death, and there seemed to be no solution that could save him, that didn’t somehow result in the same consequence for another. That, or downright start a war.

Addiver and the other Guides… Dromast, Lo… How many more people had to die? And when did every single loss stop feeling as though it were spun by her own hand?

Turning from the field, feeling the chill in her bones, a thick knot in her throat, she started back towards the camp, not entirely surprised to find her vision blurred by the pressure of unfallen tears.

The lines dispersed, and so too did Thannel as he meandered towards the front. What had transpired that caused them all to stand down? He spotted Raleia's form walking back to camp, her body showing tension as she walked. "Raleia!" he called out as he ran to her. His pace slowed as he noted her expression. "Are... Is everything well?"
Raleia paused at Thannel's approach, and looking up, she stared, silently for a moment. The words were a heavy weight, but spoken so delicately, they shook as they escaped, "N...no. It's not. It's really not..."

In that moment, Thannel's mood shifted completely to concern. This did not bode well if a Dragon Warden felt as Raleia did, and the quiver in her voice told him that what transpired was very bad. "Are we to go to war, then? I have not heard the call to march." He looked around at the dispersing lines. The Sur moved in a mass to their tents quietly conversing, though without much care into why the were free to do so. Prince Asal rode his horse to his men, likely to inform them of what had transpired.

"It's... it's only a matter of time, I fear." Meeting his gaze, her eyes misting with tears, she shook her head, "There is no food. None but what they have sustained themselves with." Lowering her eyes, a shiver rolled across her shoulders, "The dragons, Thannel. That they've captured. That is what Malan has been feeding her people."

His face contorted in utter disgust, and he found himself without words. "Is that why they attacked the Haven? For food? Their crops... Their harvest... I don't understand how they could stoop to such barbarity when they could find other means. The fish are plenty along the cliffs."

"I... I don't know." Breathing out, she looked up again, brushing in irritation at her cheeks, "They are not our pets. It's not a partnership. With our dragons. It... it's a bond that begins when we are only children. What Winnock feels, I can feel it. It's how we communicate... We understand each other. We know each other. We are connected to them, and they to us. Like a part of each other's very soul. To... to kill a dragon for any purpose is beyond cruelty... But for this ? It's unspeakable."

Frowning, she glanced over her shoulder in the direction Rosenfall lay, "They have one in the palace. A dragon. Lo. This... this is what they plan to give to the Orcs, unless he can be freed before tomorrow. If I do nothing, he will be butchered. But if I ... If I act, there will be nothing to stop this war from happening. As it is, just by his giving me this information, I may have already signed the death warrent of the man who saved mine and Olsten's life. I... I don't know what to do."

He looked to the tips of Rosenfall's white castle peeking out from above the treeline in the distance. It was barely seen, yet unmistakable. The Vuaturi had never seen the castle at this angle, though he could still gauge the distance from their location. "Are you certain the war is inevitable should the dragon be spared?" he asked. "Are you sure beyond a doubt? Perhaps there is another way. What were the terms of the negotiation?"

"The Orcs want what they were promised. I... I don't know if they will accept any other terms. And they want it by tomorrow. I could try to speak with them, but I don't know how much time there is before Malan orders Lo to be... And even if we could find a way to delay, I doubt that he'll be spared." Flinching, she paused, "It's all in Lisella's hands, Thannel. It has been, since the very start of this mess."

"Then..." His voice trailed off. Being presented with such pressing matters was not something any Vuaturi would be accustomed to. His people were passive by nature, and the most Thannel had ever had to personally contemplate was what runic design would best create the desired magical outcome upon a crystal. Yet now he tried his best to consider lives beyond his own and how to save them all. Should they not try to save them all?

"So there is no hope for the dragon? It is doomed by Lisella's command?"

"...Maybe we all are." Frowning softly, Raleia looked down at her hands, trembling with emotion, "It all seems so hopeless. It... It feels like I'm lost in the dark. The light... it's faded completely now. Every choice, every possible decision, it all ends up at the same place. Maybe it really is inevitable. But how can I sit here and do nothing? How is that right?"

He shook his head somewhat in tandem with her conflict as he mulled it over himself. "In all my years," he said, "I have come to realize doing nothing is the worst possible act. In times of conflict, you cannot sit idly by. If you can do something, you do it. Your friend, Addiver. Does he know of the dragon's fate? Will he do anything about it?"

Nodding faintly, Raleia glanced up again, "I gathered from our conversation that he doesn't intend to leave Lo to his fate. But alone? He'll never manage. And all Lisella needs is the slightest excuse to see him and the rest of the Guides hanged. I owe him my life, Thannel..."

"What do you propose, then?" he asked. "It isn't as if you can march into Rosenfall as you are. It would be suicide."

"I don't know!" Exasperation escaped as a small growl of frustration and raking fingers through her hair, Raleia turned, eyes towards the city. That damnable city, "What other choice is there? I cannot let them die, to save myself."

Thannel came around her to bring himself back to her field of vision. "Don't think stupidly," he said. "You can't just run in there risking it all. You'll likely die before you reach the castle walls. You need an Arcane Caster. Or a clever disguise. And you certainly can't have red hair. Olsten once masked his own with soot, I believe but it can only work so far. Not to mention you have a dragon. I'm sorry to say it, but your presence will only be a beacon. Your capture alone could further incite war. It could lead to distrust in the orcs or to your own dragon being used as food for the debt. I can go in your stead."

"No!" Frowning firmly, Raleia shook her head, "No. I will not risk your life, too. You cannot think that I would ever willing put you in danger. If anything happened to you..." Twisting a curl of red around her finger, she pulled it out, studied it, "Soot... you said? If... if I cut it..."

"Even if you cover your hair in soot, you still have the issue of residue and a very large dragon," Thannel stated.
"There is much you need to consider. You cannot go into this brashly or it will all be in vain."

Rubbing her face in aggravation, Raleia looked down, "I can't do this. I... I don't know how to even begin to think through this.... Whatever choice I make, someone is going to get hurt, Thannel. Whatever I do, there's blood on my hands."

"Then let us think through what we can do," he suggested, "rather than what we can't. How long until they must repay their sum in food?"

"Tomorrow... though I doubt they'll wait that long to kill Lo. I can't imagine it's easy business."

"Butchering takes time," he said, though proceeded with delicacy. "It is likely the butchers will start as soon as possible if they are to present meat to the orc. And they would need to preserve the meat, which takes more time. They have quite the endeavor ahead of them."

"Unfortunately, so do we." Something in her expression softened and shaking her head, she looked up at him,
"You... you have been an invaluable friend to me, Thannel...but you don't need to do this..."

Thannel offered her a warm smile at her concern and inclined his head both bashfully and out of Vuaturi formal habits. "It is no trouble to aid a friend," he said. "And it's a good cause. I would rather not see you thrown to the wolves. Perhaps if you borrowed Idhrenan's cap for all that hair of yours you could pass for a common Thall? If you come with me... Winnock cannot come. But Olsten explained to me your bonds with the dragons. Perhaps he can serve to be a look out of sorts? From a very far distance, of course. I don't have Arcane but my ice flourishes in this climate."

"He won't like it, but it's probably best if Winnock stays behind. I don't know much about Lo's manner, and Winnie can be a bit... territorial. The last thing we need are two dragons fighting in the middle of our escape. But a lookout isn't a bad idea. One of the other Wardens, perhaps. But we shouldn't wait too long... Will you see about Idhrenan's cap, and I'll tend to Winnock?"

He gave her a quick nod. "Indeed, I'll go find her. I'll meet you over by that cluster of trees to the West when all is ready."

"See you soon then." And with a nod, Raleia turned to leave.

[bg=#F5E538]Collab Part Two: @Effervescent[/bg][/bg][/bg]
 
Olsten replied to Aurea’s look of disbelief with his best scowl to date. Who did she think she was? Raising her hand to him like that? He clenched his jaw. She’d better not think he was shutting up just because of her! It was only because of the sheer frailty of the situation that he stayed his tongue, and he made a mental note to let Aurea know that at the earliest opportunity.

A bitter taste rose to his mouth at the sight of Waethrin sending an approving nod toward Aurea. What made her so damned special? All he had ever gotten out of the old geezer was snide remarks and dirty looks… His eyes shifted into soft focus as he wondered how and why things had gone awry between him and the famed inferno. For a while he’d thought the legend simply hated young people, but given the way he treated Aurea, that was no longer a valid explanation.

“Ow!” he leapt to his left at the sudden nudge from someone. A light frown flashed across his face as he rubbed one hand over where she’d poked him. It didn’t hurt really, but he hadn’t expected the gentle jab. He recognized the half-elf to be the newly arrived Warden. Coley was it? Or Collete? Coal perhaps? Whatever her name, she looked nervous and twice as young as he had guessed her to be from the odd glimpses he’d caught of her.

“Uhm…” his mind drew a blank. He hadn’t the faintest idea what would happen, the negotiations really could turn either way, though he certainly hoped he’d be allowed to kick down the door to Queen Malan’s chamber and roast that awful woman and her associates alive.

“A war,” he said eventually. “That’s what I think.” He shot a glance at Lisella on her high horse. “That’s what I hope. I’ve been in the mood to kill some Thalls for a while now,” he warned. He was about to say more when Feria interrupted them.

Once more the ice-warden proved herself to be a changed woman. Loss of limb had had the strangest effect on her. He didn’t recall her ever speaking so softly and gently before, almost lovingly. Whatever had happened to her, he certainly liked this new Feria much better.

“He died,” Olsten answered bitterly. To his dismay, he couldn’t picture Hale clearly anymore, as though the memory of the kind half-elf had simply faded away. “I know,” he added as he crossed his arms over his chest, “I didn’t know you cared. You didn’t seem to like him very much.”

A glint showed in his eye as he relaxed a little. "You didn't seem to like anyone really...and if you're an imposter, you're doing a terrible job at being Feria."

@rissa @CloudyBlueDay @Red Thunder @Effervescent
 
Last edited:
THE DANGER WARDENS
collab with @Effervescent


Preceding the negotiations, Gabad'zul turned his steed about with a smug expression upon his features. It went well for the orcs. They would either get their supply of food by tomorrow or they would taste the blood of battle next nightfall. He did enjoy the blaze of night arrows through a darkened sky. Fire was chaotic and represented much of how he conducted himself in a fight. The orc nodded to the elven prince as he excused himself, calling out to his brethren that they need not hold the line for now. He dismounted his horse, handing over the reins to a subordinate as he caught a glimpse of the one-armed Dragon Warden. Such a presentation marked that of a survivor, and judging by the look on her features she was of kindred mind.

"You there," he said to Feria in a booming voice. "Your name."


Feria thought often about how she could have easily fled the entirety of the war and the rest of the dragon wardens after the loss of her arm. She could've thought, screw it, I'll live by myself, alone, unburdened with problems and content to watch the world burn. But she did not. She was still here, much to her discontent. Why? To stand and laugh at the wasted efforts, perhaps? Did it even matter?

She had not gotten very far when the booming voice of an orc stopped her in her tracks. The orc. Feria narrowed her eyes at the large being, wondering what ever would he want to do with her and why he would ask for such pleasantries. Still, she was in no position to directly disobey. That didn't mean she had to look happy about it.

"Feria." She said in a dark and uninterested tone, her ever present scowl staring up at Gabad'zul.


The orc chuckled at the Dragon Warden's disposition. "Come, Feria," he said as he clapped his large hand across her shoulder. "You look like you could use a drink." He looked over at her side long, his dark eyes reaching to the corner as he adorned a less playful expression. "You will not decline."

Feria's lips pursed in thought. The clasping of his hand on her shoulder was so heavy, she was almost taken aback by the unexpected strength he carried, and Feria only was a slender being to begin with. His dark expression was not one to be toyed with, and Feria gritted her teeth. "Why would I decline a good drink?" She said nonchalantly, betraying her uneasiness, offering him a coy smile.

The orc moved back through the dispersing lines of foot soldiers that conversed in their native tongue. He glanced back to Feria to insure she followed. His massive form was cloaked in furs with his bare arms exposed and lined with dark ink across his ashen skin. Each step in his stride was weighty and thumped against the earth.

"Tell me, Feria," Gabad'zul began, "what did you think of the negotiations?"


Apparently, the might orc felt like making light conversation about the upcoming war. Feria held her breath a moment before speaking -- what was she even expected to say? Did he want a laugh? A serious discussion? To test her?

"I think with the agreement, you will win either way." She said after a moment's silence. "You want blood, do you not? After all this time, so would I." She said grimly.


He guided her into the largest tent pitched in the field, his arm pushing back the canvas to allow Feria to enter first before him. The ground was covered in the pelts of bears and a table stood upon them with a map of Thallas held down with rocks at each corner. Gabad'zul picked up two rather large bottles of U'gul and held one out to her.

"Good," he said. "It is no time to stick to your old ways. I'm surprised that pointy prince did not protest. But he learned quick I get what I want. I wouldn't be zul otherwise."


Out of everything in the largest tent, the map of Thallas entranced her the most. Though she did wonder how many bears the orcs saw fit to slaughter. The map was large, detailed. The realm of their enemy, right here in front of her. If she were attuned to fire, she would've burned it. Just to get the taste of seeing Thallas up in flames, just like the Haven. Perhaps that wasn't such a far off ideal.

She turned around and took the bottle graciously, giving off a smug smile at the name 'Pointy prince.' The name fit in more than one way.

"So it's settled. Now we wait and see if they produce." She let out a sigh; "If not, we should be ready."


"I know they do not have the food," Gabad'zul stated casually before tipping the bottle to his lips. "They will sacrifice their people either to our slaughter or to starvation."

He sat upon a stool at the table and looked down at the map, his free hand smoothing over the inked fibers thoughtfully. "I am prepared for anything. They run off with their tails tucked in, and when they are faced with the bitter choice they may retaliate in the night." He looked over at Feria and grinned brightly. "And then we will have good stew in the morning."


The thought of human stew sent shivers down her spine. But she didn't doubt the fact that there was no food to give, and the orcs were hungry. Feria supposed she couldn't blame them.

"Let us drink to the death of our enemies, then." She said, not too thrilled but grinning darkly as she tipped her bottle to her lips, downing the fiery liquid.


The drink had quite a bite to it and carried with it a strong smell that punched the senses even before the bottle could touch their lips. Gabad'zul drank to that cheerfully, and chuckled at Feria's words. Setting his bottle atop the map just over Lauderdine, he eyed the Dragon Warden before him. She looked bitter and scorned, and he nodded down to her missing arm as he spoke.

"How did you lose it?"


Feria let out an amused huff and the question. She had seen it coming, really. The only thing left to consider was how she was going to answer the question without seeming weak, foolish, or both.

"It's funny, really." She said slowly, taking another sip from her bottle. This alcohol was surely a hit to the senses, but she supposed no better time like the present to become a little numb. "I lost it to a dragon. Wasn't my own, of course, but it's still.." Feria gave a shrug. "I'm a dragon warden, am I not? And this is what I get."


The orc did not laugh at the demise of Dragon Warden's arm to the maw of the very beast they were known to befriend. His expression was serious and understanding as he nodded his head. "Dragons are fierce where I come from," Gabad'zul said. "Many of my people have suffered the same. Long ago, my clan used to hunt dragons for food and for title, but after the many deaths we reformed. You can kill ten boar more easily than one dragon, and boars are just as angry as you seem to be."

He lifted the bottle to his lips and took a swig. "You should come to Ashaz'duun one day," he said to her with a nod. "We can outfit your arm with a machine that will work just as well. My engineers are the best in all of Usundrovad."


Dragons are fierce wherever anyone comes from, Feria wanted to say. It was interesting to hear him speak of how many of his people had ended up with the same fate, and how it lead them to switch to boar. After another swig, Feria gave a hearty laugh at his comment, her first of the night. Boar as angry as her. She supposed it weren't untrue.

At the promise of a new mechanical arm, Feria's eyes widened and she turned to face Gabad'zul directly. To have any semblance of an arm again, especially one that worked as well as he promised, was more than Feria could have ever hoped for. "What of the cost?" She murmured. Dragon wardens were not rich, especially not now. How could she afford it?


Placing his bottle back upon the map, Gabad'zul leaned forward in his chair as he fixed his dark eyes to stare at Feria. "It would be a debt repaid," he said. "By aiding us you give my people the ability to continue on with our lives unhindered by the obstacle of famine. And so, by providing you with a new arm, you may go on unhindered as well." He straightened his posture.

"You will accept without resist," he commanded as he picked up his bottle once again.


The only fault Feria found with this deal was that it would be easily revoked if the orcs did not get their blood. While she doubted there would be any way out of this war, by agreeing to this she was betting an arm she had already lost on a war that had yet to happen.

She nodded firmly. There was no option to decline either way. "Thank you." She said quietly, gazing at her stump of an arm and wondering how it would feel to have something there again. She took another, large, swig.


He grunted in response, and stared down at the map of Thallas for a moment as he let a silence settle between them. The orc was satisfied in their conversation, content to continue it with not but the slosh of their U'gul as they each tipped their bottles to their lips.
 

This One Time in Orc Camp

A collab with Idhrenan and Aurea, Part 1



The negotiations were not as successful as Aurea had hoped. Despite her pleas for the other side to name their terms, they had remained silent, opting to agree with the orcs demand for supplies in one day’s time. It didn’t make sense to the young warden: they came to meet them for what reason. It seemed she wasn’t the only one suspicious of the outcome: the wardens were ordered to gather armor and evacuate whatever civilians were left. No one was preparing for a scenario where the wardens get to return to Haven peacefully. Naturally, Aurea felt like she failed.

The young warden found herself in the orc camp, attempting to get armor in preparation. Despite their rough appearance, the orcs respected the wardens as honorable warriors. Aurea was talking to one of the orc blacksmiths, Gad’Zooks. He was awfully cheerful for an orc: he referred to Aurea as a fairy warrior for her small stature (compared to the orcs). Unfortunately, all of his armor was made for orcs, not teenage half-elf girls. Just about every set of armor he possessed caused Aurea to fall to the ground from its weight. Still, Gad’Zooks had one last sample.

“Well, this one isn’t finished, but it’s finished enough for a tiny one like you, fairy warrior!”

Unlike the traditional metal armors, this one was made of bone. Bones were strung together to form a chest and back plate, with a skull face emblazoned in the middle. To Aurea’s horror, the bones appeared human. The blacksmith was quite proud of the piece.

“It’s made from the bones of our foes. I don’t do a whole lotta fighting though, so this is all I got. Here, try it on!”

“I don’t think this is appropriate for my position,” Aurea gave a nervous smile, holding her hands up in refusal. “But I thank you for the offer.”

Aurea spotted Idhrenan over in the distance. She gave her goodbyes to Gad’Zooks as she walked over to her superior.

“Lady Idhrenan,” Aurea greeted, “I don’t suppose you had any luck tracking down any armor? I went to see what the orcs had, but…”

She looked back one last time to see Gad’Zooks still eagerly holding up the bone armor.

Idhrenan approached Aurea, a polite smile adorning her features as she noted the eager orc blacksmith behind the girl. Her face briefly contorted as she noted the unmistakable bones that comprised the piece he held, and she looked back at her fellow Dragon Warden with a playful grimace. "I've not," she said. "All the orcs are rather...bulky in comparison to myself. And ill fitted armor does us no good if we wish to do more than just stand there looking pretty. The elves have none to spare either. But perhaps a spaulder or a pair of grieves may help to some degree..."

"I don't think we would have to worry about looking pretty in orc armor," Aurea remarked, a smirk across her face. "It's tougher than anything I'm used to wearing. I just wish it was in my size. I thought it would be a good sign of solidarity."

The young warden looked on at the orcs preparing for war. Her regret showed upon her face, as if she personally failed them.

"Of course, we shouldn't need any armor had the negotiations gone well," Aurea sighed, looking to Rosenfall. "I don't understand. What could we have done differently?"

Biting at her lower lip contemplatively, Idhrenan could only shrug her shoulders. "We can't always have a predictable negotiation," she said. "I couldn't think of how we could have done things differently."

Idhrenan followed Aurea's gaze to the spires of Rosenfall's castle with an air of uncertainty. She felt in her heart they had no choice but to prepare for war. In a way, they were used by the orcs to derail the entire negotiation. Perhaps Gabad'zul never intended to negotiate.

"Sometimes there is nothing we can do but prepare for the worst while hoping for the best," she said. "If Thallas can produce the appropriate amount of food for their debt then we can skirt a war. But we will need to find a way to help their people survive until next harvest."

Aurea nodded as Idhrenan explained that negotiations had to involve both parties. Even the best wardens couldn’t negotiate with a party unwilling to talk. That was the situation they were involved in. Aurea soon realized this and focused on the brighter side.

“There is still some hope,” Aurea began. “Sir Waethrin still hasn’t returned. Perhaps he is still working on an arrangement with that woman. If anyone can save these talks, it’s someone of his caliber. From there, we can talk to the other allied kingdoms to share their food supplies with Rosenfall. And then…maybe we can get Haven back.”

Aurea had a lot of hope riding on Waethrin’s efforts. Her face brightened as she thought about Haven. Her imagination was already racing, seeing all the surviving wardens coming home to rebuild. The castle would rise from the ruins, better than it ever was.

Idhrenan did not carry the same faith in Waethrin as Aurea seemed to. Waethrin had abandoned the Dragon Wardens in self-exile long before she was even born. He was legendary, to be sure, but from what she saw of his character of late, she was unsure he carried the same values and principles as the Dragon Wardens were taught. She was not the type to speak ill of anyone, and so it became a conflict as to whether or not to advise Aurea to place less hope on a man like Waethrin and look to other means.

"Baladur might be a safe bet for food," she said thoughtfully as she moved the subject away from the Inferno. "I may consider flying into Edros. Perhaps expanding relations is in order for the sake of survival."

She smiles at Aurea once again, briefly and wiped away with a sorrowful heart. "The Haven is more than just a location," she said. "We carry it with us wherever we go. If Thallas will not relinquish the mountains we can build elsewhere. Wherever we are, the Haven is with us."

Aurea smiled as she took in Idhrenan's words. She realized that it wasn't the castle or mountains that she missed. It was the people and memories. Coming back to the Haven was no longer a distant goal: Aurea was already there.

"You're right. I guess I have too much attachment to a place," Aurea conceded. "Wherever we rebuild will be Haven. Which will be good because I wouldn't mind having a beach. I think Plainswalker would like it too."

Aurea smiled, looking beyond the orc camp to see her dragon resting close by.

"I want to help get to that place, where we're no longer at war. I was wondering, if you should go to Edros, if I could follow. I still have a lot to learn before I become a full warden."

Aurea was in the company of the last bank of knowledge about the wardens. In the case of Waethrin, that knowledge wouldn't be around forever. On top of being the second most senior member of the wardens left, Idhrenan was also the one to show Aurea that she still had family left. For that, the young warden would follow her to the ends of the world.

Idhrenan's smile broadened at Aurea's words. "I would not mind the company," she said. "And I hear Edros has some very beautiful beaches." She looked over to Eosphelon's crystal encrusted form. The pearlescent scales had muddied with the melted frost covered dirt, and he did not help his cleanliness as he dug through the earth. She could feel his interest and persistence even as she attempted to urge him to calm.

"Would you like to accompany me for a patrol?" she asked the young Dragon Warden before her. "We cannot travel too close to Rosenfall, lest we get in range of their own powerful weaponry. But perhaps the locals can spread the word to those living closer to the walls."

"Yes, mam! I'll meet you in the air."

Upon being asked to join the patrol, Aurea did not hesitate. She ran away from Idhrenan, out of the orc camp, and directly to her earth dragon Plainswalker. PW was sleeping soundly, pretty much ignoring Aurea's enthusiasm up until his small warden climbed on top of him.

"Come on now," Aurea said as she pulled out a pair of goggles from one of the saddlebags. "We've got a mission."

The dragon reluctantly began stretching his limbs, letting out a yawn as he shook off the sleep. PW leaped upward as he beat his wings through the air. Dirt was kicked up as the dragon rose into the air. Aurea looked down as they flew over the camp. More than a few orcs looked up at the massive dragon. Aurea simply waved at the onlookers as she waited to take off.


Eosphelon was eager to fly. As Idhrenan parted from Aurea to her own dragon companion, she could sense the excitement as soon as her notions had registered. A small chuckle escaped her as she climbed up onto the saddle. The Arcane Dragon danced on his feet before liftoff and swooped swiftly towards Plainswalker. With a wave of her hand, she beckoned the young Dragon Warden to follow turning Southwest above the campground.



Not by Choice, But by Duty

A collab with Idhrenan and Aurea, Part 2


There were fields and farmland for miles. Idhrenan was careful to keep their route around the city just out of reach of their cannons and ballistae. Clusters of bare trees jutted out from the earth with hardly an evergreen in sight to keep the green through Winter. Idhrenan drew the furs she was given close to her form as she fought against the chilled winds that rushed past. Soon they would find themselves upon the first farmhouse, and they landed far from it so as not to present themselves too opposingly.

"How do you propose we proceed?" Idhrenan asked to test Aurea's mettle.

Aurea pulled her goggles onto her forehead as she dismounted to get a better look. There didn't seem to be anything terribly abnormal about the farmhouse. She wasn't even sure people were still inside.

"I think it's safe to just walk up to the front door and knock," Aurea started before realizing that they still were enemies of the state, "...unless red hair is frowned upon. You wouldn't happen to have any hats or helmets on you, would you?"

Dismounting, Idhrenan gave Eosphelon a gentle pat along his neck before rounding to meet with Aurea. "Thannel had requested my cap," she said. "All I have is my hood, but I would say even at this distance it is clear what we are. Will Plainswalker accept holding back here while we venture towards the house?"

Aurea looked to Plainswalker, who simply nodded.

"He's fine waiting back here," Aurea replied, patting her dragon on the nose. "Besides, he can move pretty fast when he needs to."

Aurea joined Idhrenan as they walked to the farmhouse. Aurea was reminded of her time with Alfwin, helping him grow crops. This made her less wary of what was behind the door. That, and having a dragon or two close by didn't hurt. If anything, she felt more pressure with Idhrenan around. The young warden had to make sure this meeting went well. At the very least, it shouldn't end with a pitchfork in someone's chest.

When they arrived, she slowly knocked on the door and waited for an answer.

A woman answered the door, wisps of dirty blonde hair flowing out from behind a bandanna as she kept the door cracked only a few inches to speak to the two Dragon Wardens at her doorstep. The farmhouse was simple, though big enough to fit more than just the present woman. A fire crackled in the background sending an orange glow dancing about in the background and a plume of soft smoke gently rising from the chimney. She was a simple looking woman, petite with a fierce gaze set as she pursed her lips in noting the color of their hair.

"I want no trouble," she stated. "I've nothing to offer."

"Apologies for the intrusion," Idhrenan said with a respectful inclination of her head. "We do not wish to take much of your time." She looked over to Aurea to allow the young Dragon Warden to partake in their minor diplomatic mission.

Aurea nodded as Idhrenan turned the conversation to her. The woman before them was clearly not happy to see them. The young warden would keep her plea short to avoid further stoking of her ire.

"We just wanted to let you know that there is a meeting between Thall leadership and the orc clan. We hope for a peaceful outcome, but both sides are prepared for war. In case of war, we wanted to make sure you have a chance to evacuate."

She looked to Idhrenan, in case she had forgotten to mention anything else.

Idhrenan gave a short approving nod to Aurea and looked back at the woman tucked behind the door. The woman shifted her weight uneasily as she contemplated the validity of their words, hazel eyes roving over both of them in consideration. Her head nodded somewhat, fingers curling around the door before she spoke.

"We'll take no chances," she said to the Dragon Wardens, "but we'll not leave until I see you fly off. Which... which way are the orcs so that we may avoid them?"

"Oh, they're camped over there," Aurea replied, pointing in the direction where the wardens came from. "Just make sure to tell your neighbors."

Aurea did her best to remain cordial, though she was irked by the woman's suspicions of them. The young warden was always told that wardens were respected throughout the world. This was before the destruction of Haven, however. Still, she didn't like being treated as a thief waiting to raid an empty house.

"If I wanted to rob you, you would be talking to a dragon right about now," Aurea thought to herself, imagining a sassy reply if such accusations were said aloud. She would never ever say that, certainly not in front of a superior. Aurea gave a small sigh as she turned away, keeping her frustration bottled up.

Idhrenan bowed her head once again to the woman as the door was slowly closed in front of them. She turned to follow Aurea back to their dragons, and looked over to the girl thoughtfully as she drew her cloak closer to her still to fight off the cold of Winter. "Why do you sigh, Aurea?" she asked. "We did the best we could do given the circumstance. And now they are informed and can act accordingly just in case things do go awry."

"It's just...I thought when I would leave Haven for the first time, I was hoping I wouldn't be treated like a thief." Aurea said in frustration. She soon realized that her inner monologue had snuck out of her mouth.

"I mean, I shouldn't have said that," Aurea quickly corrected herself. "I'm sorry. It's just hasn't been a great day."

"Circumstances have brought a great misfortune on us," Idhrenan said with a small nod. "They don't know what to believe, but by our actions today, despite how we were received with hesitancy, will help rebuild trust in the Dragon Wardens." She offered Aurea a small, reassuring smile. "No need to apologize for having a bad day. I'm having a bad day, too. It's been a bad Season, really."

Eosphelon trilled as Idhrenan neared and greeted her outstretched hand with his nuzzle. "It's exhausting work now," she continued. "Getting others to trust us, I mean. Thousands of years completely voided by a paranoid queen. I want to retire and never partake in such work as this ever again. But for now we have little choice. All we can do is refrain from turning bitter and hope our actions will reflect honorably enough to grant us freedom from tyranny."

"Of course," Aurea replied. She felt bad for giving into despair so easily. She hoped for the end of their ordeals, but the young warden was not looking forward to the long road to get there. As she tended to her own dragon, Aurea wondered if any of this was worth it.

"Retirement. Have you ever thought about just...doing it? Take everyone that's left, fly us far away from this, and let the world sort itself out."

Mounting Eosphelon once again, Idhrenan spared another glance towards the farm house. "I had," she admitted. She recalled the intense desire after Hale died. Wanting to run away forever with who was left was in desperation, and she did not wish to see his fate befall the others. But her head shook away the notion once again. "But we are the best equipped to go against a Shadow Warden. It's... almost like an obligation to wipe them out before we can rest. And so I continue on with my duties. Come. Let us continue our mission before heading back to the camp."

With that, Eosphelon kicked off from the ground, wings beating into the earth for liftoff. Aurea and Plainswalker followed, the warden with new determination. Duty beckoned.
 

Fire and Ice, Part One
A collab between @Effervescent @Elle Joyner and @rissa

As she left Thannel, Raleia moved with a renewed sense of purpose. There was absolutely nothing ideal about what they were planning to do, but it was clear they had no other choice. To remain idle, knowing what would happen… to sit by and allow Lo to be slaughtered, all in the hopes of preventing a war that, by all intents and purposes, had already begun? There was no other decision to make, as far as she was concerned. Lo would not be left without aid.

Her first destination was the dragon pen. There, after some coaxing, she managed to convince Winnock down, then with increasing difficulty, managed to convince him not to follow her. His irritation with her was evident, even after she explained to him what she was going to do. With a huff, he dropped into the dirt and curled up, his back to her. Giving him a gentle pat, she turned and made her way towards her next destination… the tent that she shared with Coleite. Inside, without a word to the young warden, Raleia moved to her things and rifling through them, found her short sword, which she secured to her belt, then turning, she looked to the other red head with a small frown.

“What I am about to propose is madness… and there is chance that very little good can come of it. But it is something that I must do, and I cannot do it alone. Inside the palace, there is a dragon. This is the food the Thalls intend to present to the Orcs as a means of paying their debts… I don’t imagine I need to explain to you how atrocious the very idea of butchering a dragon is, most particularly since his Warden is also captured within the palace. I intend, with the aid of the Vuaturi, Thannel, to free the dragon, before he can be killed, but we require a lookout. By no means are you to feel obligated to assist, but time is short and I need your answer as swiftly as you can give it.”


Coley watched disinterestedly as her tent mate rifled through her belongings, producing a short sword and a furrowed face. She turned the latter onto Coley and spoke trepidation inducing words. With an arched brow, she absorbed everything into her psyche. There wasn't room for surprise, not after witnessing the Haven succumb to flames. Malan: a mass murderer, a dragonslayer and now, a dragon butcher. It made sense, if hair curling and vile, and yet that in of itself bespoke of the horrendous Thallas Queen.

"A look out, you say?" Coleite asked, "You're better off finding an Arcane caster… buuut seeing as you're in a rush, I suppose I'll do. With this winter chill my ice will compliment your fire nicely."

She stood as well, grabbing a leather vest from her sack and lacing it on, as well as grabbing her two handed mace she'd just finished cleaning and tying it to her belt.

"Firstly, I assume no one besides yourself and the Vauturi are aware of this rescue mission? Second, do you intend to save the dragon's Warden? Before we depart I'll need to see Briseis, if not, he's bound to come after me after feeling any kind of distress."


It surprised her, though it really shouldn't have, that the young woman was so quick to agree. The Wardens had endured so much as it was, but this was a new low for the mad queen of Rosenfall.

As Coley dressed, she posed her questions, and though she was nearly halfway through the tentflaps already, Raleia glanced back with a nod, "It's just us... and so it should remain. Do what you must, but make haste, please. We shall wait by the grove of trees near camp... ten minutes. Thank you, Coleite." And nodding sincerely, Raleia disappeared through the flap. From the tent, she crossed the small field their camp sat upon, coming quickly to the tree line where Thannel could be found waiting.

As she approached, she worked simultaneously at plaiting her hair into a braid, "I've found us a lookout. She's just seeing to her dragon."


Thannel stood within the shade of the trees and held out a cap to Raleia as she approached. His brow furrowed somewhat at her news. "So we go without the dragons entirely?" he asked. It seemed almost strange to him that they could part so willingly. He had never seen it happen before. "Winnock accepts staying without you?"


Coleite followed the other Warden out, though admittedly her stride didn’t match that of Raleia’s purposeful strut. Unlike the other dragons nestled within the pin, she and Briseis chose to sleep on the outskirts of the massive layout of tents and cook fires. Indeed, it was well on the opposite side of where she was to meet Raleia and this Vauturi, Thannel, yet she didn’t quicken her stride or appear to be in any rush. Such actions, she was sure, would garner attention, and she didn’t want any of that.

As always, Briseis could sense something was not entirely right. Already alert and slightly bristled, he gazed at her with all-knowing eyes that sent a chill down her spine. Before going any farther she searched through her saddle bag, pulled out a long, dark scarf that in turn, shewrapped around her head and plaited hair-- effectively masking her Warden appearance. Then with a great sigh, she began to explain what she was doing and why he couldn’t come.

It was difficult, especially when he hid her with his feathered wing and let out a soft, haunting coo. He nudged her gently, careful with his placement yet he gouge her with his icicle-like horns. It was soul-wrenching. They hadn’t been out of each other’s sight in months and thepossibility of never returning to him finally sunk in, and with it, her first seed of doubt.

She’d given her word though. And she had never broken it before.

Pleading with Briseis to see reason was not working, even after explaining that this was her chance for atonement, her chance to prove that she wasn’t a coward; that she had more to offer than just fleeing. She could help save a Warden, a dragon from a sentence worse than just death. When that didn’t work, she resorted to bribing.

“Look, if I’m not back by sunrise, come and find me. Not a moment sooner. And I promise, as soon as all of this is over we’ll head back to our mountains.” It was pitiful, but she had nothing else, and if truth be told, she’d rather die together than apart.

With one last stroke of his feather neck, Coley turned, and began the hardest trek of her life. She only had minutes to spare as she traversed the Orc and Sur cook fires and tent formations, as she found her way to the predesignated location she was to meet Raleia and Thannel. When she finally found them, nestled within the safety of a grove of trees, she nodded her head at each and spoke softly. “What is our plan?”


As she took the cap, Raleia met Thannel's words with a weak, humorless smile, shaking her head, "Whether he accepts it or not, he knows not to come. He wasn't happy, but I was clear what would happen if he decided to ignore my instructions. I think when I mentioned it could get us all killed, he understood."

The smile twitched away at the sound of footsteps and looking back, she spotted Coley approaching. Her gaze moved back to Thannel and she gestured to the young warden.

"Coleite... Thannel. Thannel, Coleite. As for a plan, well..." Looking to the Vauturi again, she shrugged, and over her braid, she tugged on the cap, "I suppose 'rescue a dragon' doesn't quite cover it."


Thannel bowed his head in greeting Coleite. "Always a pleasure to meet a Dragon Warden," he said, and as he rode his head he pushed away the stray strands of white hair that fell across his face. The bruises he once carried on his tan skin had mostly vanished leaving only the faintest of yellow across his cheek near a narrow scab mostly healed. His broken wrist was still bandaged causing the hand to move stiffly under the glove and grieve. He otherwise looked fit to carry himself in a fight should the need arise, albeit slightly hindered by his remaining injury.

"We head quickly to Rosenfall," he began to explain, "and act as people seeking refuge. From there we find a way into the castle. It won't be easy, and they may question what a Vuaturi is doing away from his people. The story is that my construct was destroyed by Shadow Casters and I sought refuge on your farmland. Try to think up of a story for yourselves and give yourselves a surname as a precaution. There is nothing solid to go by so we will have to be quick on our feet. Any ideas or input would be of value if you have it. Otherwise we should head out."
 
Last edited:
[bg=#F5E538]

9fihn9R.png

[/bg][bg=#F5E538][bg=#339588]
The trek to Rosenfall was tense, their feet padding along the main road and converging with other Thalls seeking shelter from the orcish army. There was concern in all ages and talk of the elderly and children being marched off to the coast. Some thought it wise and even parted ways with their children as they gave them off to their elders to find safety away from what could befall the city. Others were more eager to lend their hand in protecting their queen and country from the unwanted threat at their door.

"I'm not too old to fight," a graying woman grumbled to her sons. "I was punching wyverns in the face before you were even a thought in my mind."

Thannel kept his hood around his face and his head down to the road. He could hide his white hair with a cap or a scarf like his companions, but his eyes and facial tattoos were unmistakable. No one seemed to pay the trio any mind likely due to their minds being focused elsewhere.

The trees opened up to reveal the city of Rosenfall clustered upon a hill with the castle at its peak. Rows of walls, still mostly broken from the Dragon Warden's previous attack, sectioned it off into thirds, and a few siege weapons still remained. Buildings were still under repair, some still blackened from fire. Yet it still remained a marvel to behold. It was the oldest human city in the Allied Kingdoms that had survived several attacks over the centuries. This was the first time Thannel had ever been so close to Rosenfall, and he wished it were under better circumstances.

The line slowed to enter Rosenfall as guards filed the people in. "All able bodies are to report to the citadel!" called out a guard. "Elderly and children will be gathered and escorted to Port Ranoul."

He held his breath as they began to pass through, the guard's shouting right in their ears as he repeated the information. Miraculously, they made it through, and Thannel sighed in relief as he looked to Raleia and Coleite.

"It seems they're preparing for the worst," he said, and then looked behind him. "I hadn't thought of a way out... I didn't know they would be regulating the gates as they are."

It was unnerving, passing through the town... even considering the importance of their task. The last time she had been in Rosenfall, Raleia had been certain her death was imminent. This time felt no different, except that this time her impending doom could come with absolute spontaneity, and she would not be facing it alone. Thrice on the journey, she had been stopped in her tracks by the pressing desire to insist they turn around, to abandon their quest so that Thannel and Coleite were safeguarded from the madness.

But there was wisdom in distance, and from his perspective outside of the Wardens, Thannel had been right... he had seen rationality where she could not. She would never have made it on her own, especially in her emotionally compromised state. Emotional and physical, it seemed...

She had forgotten, in the chaos, the toll that their last escape had taken and the wound she had taken to her knee. As the length of their journey stretched on, her gait became uneven, the injury vexed by the exertion. By the time they had reached the city, she had taken to leaning on Thannel's arm, less to supply realism to their charade and more out of necessity.

Fear, too, soon became a hindrance, and as every guard passed by, her grip tensed against Thannel's forearm until she had to apologize and relinquish her hold.

But make it through they did, by some good grace or another, and when Thannel spoke, Raleia breathed out, looking back to the gates with a shake of her head before turning to the pair, "If all goes well, perhaps Lo will be willing to provide us a ride out... Either way, we'll need to be careful, and quick. There are so many of them."

Addiver, she imagined, would not wait long in these conditions, to try and get Lo out.

The journey was long, as expected, but there was many and more unexpected sights that Coley found… interesting. Raleia’s purposeful strut had belied a hidden limp and the further they went, the stronger it appeared. She huffed out a pent up sigh of frustration; she had an inkling that before the day was through, that she, or maybe the Vauturi, or possibly even both, would be the brunt of the defending force. Though not entirely unexpected, the guards at the gates proved to be less worrisome than Raleia’s injured leg -- they didn’t spare the trio a second glance as they ushered them inside. Yet, of all the surprises, the beauty of Rosenfall struck her the hardest. Still under renovation and yet the blackened walls and buildings were still a wonder to behold. Even the castle, high upon the hill was the epitome of Thallas finery.

And here they were, attempting to rescue a dragon from butchery and his Warden from enslavement.

Once inside the gates and a fare distance from the guards, she turned and listened to Thannel and Raleia speak.

When they were finished, Coley shook her head uncertainly. “It depends.” She shrugged, scratching at the scarf that hid her hair and face. “Not all dragons are friendly and that’s on the best of days. Briseis wouldn’t let anyone ride him if I wasn’t there. And if we do manage to find his Warden, how can we expect a malnutritioned dragon to carry us all out? No, some of us will have to either sneak out, or fight our way to freedom.” She scratched at her scarf once more. "So, where do we begin?"

The able bodied made their way to the citadel fixed between the third tier wall that separated the city from the castle. It acted as its own gate; the structure built right within the wall's line. They followed the line to it, Thannel quickly looking about what he could see of the city. It was difficult given the clusters of buildings, winding roads, trees, and even the slope of the hill.

"We can either report in the citadel and find a way to the castle through there," Thannel suggested, "or we find another way in along the wall."

It seemed both a benefit and detriment, how many people there were, mulling about. It was no matter, either way, however. The city was preparing for the impending battle, and that didn't mean that they would be any less diligent about two Dragon Wardens, wandering about.

"Best we aren't caught poking around where we're not meant to be, I think." It was a risk, approaching the citadel so boldly, but she and Coley had done a thorough job of hiding their hair and it was often said the best way to hide was in plain sight, "Coleite, you could pass for my sister, I think. We've a farm on the outskirts of the city, where Thannel came to us after an attack by Shadow Casters. Keep it simple... and we might just be alright."

They made it into the citadel where soldiers sifted through the mass of volunteers. Commands and orders were shouted through the massive main hall where they divvied assignments and equipment. Crash courses in combat were being held out in the training grounds behind the wall. The cacophony of conversations muddied anything that wasn't either directly spoken to the trio or wasn't shouted by the main soldier at the center of the hall.

A woman clad in the typical garb of the Guard approached the three with a journal she jotted notes down into. "Give me your names, professions, and any...". Her voice trailed off as she settled her gaze on Thannel. "What's a Vuaturi doing so far from his people?"

"We were attacked by Shadow Casters," Thannel explained, and then motioned to Coelite and Raleia. "These two gave me shelter and sanctuary in their home. I owe them my life."

The Guard looked to the other two for confirmation in the story.

"It was nothing more than any good Thall would do..." She offered to Thannel, with a solemn nod, "And we might not have made it to Rosenfall without your aid. Slipping on that rock the way I did... Poor Col could never have--"

Raleia turned with a small frown, her eyes to the guard, "Sorry. I'm Leia Valnir and this is my sister, Coley. We tend to our family's farm several miles from here. Is... is it true? Are those beastly orcs really marching on Thallas?"

It wasn't hard to muster an expression of fear... Raleia was downright terrified. The risk they were taking was all too great, and they hadn't even made it to the dragon, yet. Fear, however, could be intensely clarifying, and she hoped would be enough to keep her mind sharp.

Coleite nodded her head timidly as Raleia spoke to the lady guard, the din of chatter almost overwhelming after months of near silence. The only conversations she had before meeting up with the other Wardens was that of valley tree songs, drifting whispers of snow, turbulent growls of the sky, and the Bond she shared with Briseis. The noise widened her eyes and sent her heart aflutter. The feral part of her screamed in protest but the rational, trained, and entirely too stubborn part of her kept it’s head.

What they were doing was lunacy and yet half of her wondered if that’s why she agreed to come along. For one moment, the babel turned to white noise and that of a single thought: Death is inevitable, whether she survived this night or the battle in the evening hours of tomorrow, as everyone knew Thallas hadn’t the food needed to state their bargains to the Orcs. Or possibly, if she somehow garnered luck’s favor, she’d live through both and die in the late years of her life… but even then she would succumb to death. Why not die repenting for her greatest remorse?

Clearing her head and letting her ears fill with the Citadel’s cacophony, she thanked the Maker for her young appearance. Though almost freakishly tall for a girl and a deceptively thin physique, her face looked young. And hopefully, it’d help put her under the guards radar.

She nodded once more and turned to the lady guard before speaking and in turn looking at the woman expectantly. “The army will protect us though, right? And t-the Queen?”

The words were salt in her wounds but she forced herself to say them despite stuttering in her vehemence towards the woman. They were on a mission however, and her personal feelings were readily pushed to the side. The distraction would only cause turmoil.

There was a glint of something that briefly graced the guard's expression when Coleite had mentioned the Queen. It was the faintest hint of concern that she had brushed away quickly to get back to business as she jotted down a few notes on the parchment. "Your name, elf?" she asked looking up at Thannel.

"Thannel," he stated. "I'd like to remain with my companions. I owe them a life debt."

For whatever reason, his name struck a chord with the Guard. She stared at him, her eyes eventually moving to scan over Raleia and Coleite with scrutiny. She gave a curt nod to Thannel before turning around. Her whistle pierced through the noise garnering the attention of several individuals in its wake.

"Sal!" she called out as she waved to another guard. His brow arched curiously before he made his way over to his comrade, and she showed him her notes. Thannel looked over at Raleia as panic took him.

"Take these three to the butchery," she said to Sal. "They're farmers and will know how to prepare meat."

She jotted something else down in the corner of the parchment and tore it off before handing it over to Raleia. It was the symbol of the Guides.

"Off with you, then," she commanded. "Sal will show you the way."

There were moments in her life where Raleia had come to know the meaning of real and pure fear. Haven had been the worst of it, but when the guard turned and gave a burst of her whistle, Raleia's grip on Thannel's arm became so bruising tight it sent a shockwave of pain through her own hand. Graciously, or perhaps not so graciously, but luckily, the woman spoke quickly and almost as quickly, Raleia relinquished her vice-like grip, accepting the piece of parchment, albeit with a trembling hand.

It wasn't idyllic, necessarily, but it was damn near convenient... the charge of duty. All she could do was pray they arrived before Lo was killed...

The whistle pierced through the crowded Citadel like a bloodcurdling scream. Coley’s stomach roiled and clenched in fear and for a wild heartbeat she was half tempted to rip her mace free from beneath the folds of her cloak. It wasn’t only the whistle, it was the look the lady guard gave Thannel. It spoke of some kind of recognition. And then her eyes roved over Raleia and herself, searching for something, likely some kind of criminality. Yet as the moments pressed on and the guard named Sal made his way over, nothing happened, save perhaps her thundering heart and a feeling akin to a dizzy spell overtaking her.

Then she spoke the most gracious words Coleite could hear. A ripple of shock went through her and she tried desperately not to show it. Coley watched as she scribbled something else into her notebook, and then curiously, tore it off and handed it to Raleia. From where she stood Coleite caught a glimpse of the torn paper and felt the anxiety in her chest loosen. They weren’t out of danger, far from it, but at least they knew they had someone on their side-- and a Guide at that.

"Off with you, then," she commanded. "Sal will show you the way."

Coley nodded her head and looked expectantly at Sal. “After you, good sir.”

Sal calmly led them through corridors and hallways passing by other guards who did not question their route. It was evident everyone was on edge as they prepared for the worst case scenario. They passed by a group discussing concerns of famine and how they'll make it to next harvest. It was apparently decreed that everyone surrender half of their own food reserves, and farmers their livestock.

"It's either we starve to death," a man said, "or we die to an orcish slaughter."

They would not dare speak ill of their queen, for it was a treasonous act. Their distaste was still prevalent, and one could possibly derive the source based on their current situation. Eventually, they walked out of the citadel towards the glistening castle. In the sunlight and so close, the hint of lavender within the stone was more prevalent. On one side, citizens were being given lessons in combat with a sword and shield, their wooden weapons clacking against each other through commands. On the other side was a line of livestock and carts as farmers and merchants herded and wheeled in what they could.

"These three are for the butchery," Sal explained to the two guards standing outside one of the side doors to the castle.

"A Vuaturi?" one of them asked as he eyed Thannel over suspiciously. Sal offered a shrug.

"Something about a life debt," he explained.

"They saved my life," Thannel added as he motioned to Raleia and Coleite, but the guards were already waving them through at that point. The castle was not as chaotic as the citadel by far, and they were led through more empty corridors until reaching a door. Sal knocked a particular rhythm onto the woodgrain, and the door unlocked and opened. Inside were a group of men and women adorning their own sets of armor, and they all looked at the trio in confusion before looking to Sal for an explanation.

Addiver walked up to the trio in confusion. "Raleia?" he said, and then looked at Coleite and Thannel. When he saw the Vuaturi, his confusion whisked away to a bright smile.

"You must be Thannel!" he said, and moved up to shake the elf's hand. Sal closed the door. "Come on in, guys, we're getting ready for you-know-what."

"Apologies," Thannel said to Addiver. "I can't recall us ever meeting."

"We haven't," Addiver confirmed. "But Jeremy here ran into another lot of Dragon Wardens that came from the North up in Baladur." Jeremy gave a wave. "They told us about a big fight up there with the Shadow. Your name was mentioned. Great to see you guys. Pick up some gear! We're heading out in just a few."

It was a little like taking a breath after having been under water too long... pain and fear overwhelmed by a sudden lift, the intense relief almost discomforting in and of itself. In a way entirely unexpected, they had succeeded in the first part of their quest. Now it was just a matter of finding Lo and freeing him...

Not that it would be a simple task, by any stretch of the imagination...

"Great to see you, as well." She managed, when the weight of anxiety had passed, looking to Thannel and Coley, Raleia gave a small nod of encouragement.

It felt good to breathe again, to let out a delicious sigh of relief. The scribbled note was one thing, but what if it was simply a decoy? What if the lady guard had realized the Vuaturi was accompanied by two Wardens and instead of inciting panic, tricked them into willingly walking to their deaths? Thank the Maker, however; when the door in question was open, the man who Raleia spoke of was there, along with a few others who were in the midst of armoring themselves.

She listened to Addiver’s greeting and then gladly helped herself to some armor. The vest she wore on top of her leathers, though worn and in need of patching, had always served her well. Through the years it had grown to her contours, as if melded specifically for her. It would do well underneath the brigandine that caught her eye; it was made of thick canvas and old steel plates and when she put it on, Coleite was surprised at how well it fit. Doning her cloak once more, her eyes roamed the room until she saw a short short, just bigger than a dagger and stalking over to it, surprised once more, to find the sheath lying within reaching distance. Lacing the short sword on the opposite side of her mace, she glanced around the room, waiting impatiently for whatever may come next.

Walking up to Addiver, Coley nodded her head out of respect and then spoke with a hint of humor lacing her voice. “Tell me you have a plan?”

There were only about eight Thalls in the small storage room, each helping each other out in fitting their pieces of armor onto themselves as they quietly chattered. Addiver secured a sword to his side as Coleite addressed him, and he grinned over at her. "Of course," he said confidently. "And now that you three are here we can add a little magic to the mix. It'll come in handy when it comes to the chains, let me tell you. Those links are as fat as Uncle Marty's fingers, I swear."

It was apparent this Uncle Marty was well known among the seven other men and women with Addiver. They all stifled laughs and hearty chuckles, nodding their heads in agreement to the width of Uncle Marty's fingers. It sparked further conversations about his apparent appetite and a Harvest Feast that had apparently resulted in the need to get a second hog before dinner was served. Uncle Marty was also apparently well known for being faster on his feet than Gaddric.

"I had a cramp in my leg!" Gaddric said in his defense.

"Well," Addiver continued to the trio, "we don't exactly have the keys to the locks. We'll pick the ones we can, but having you guys work your magic will definitely speed things up. Let's head out! Butchers should be gathered soon."

They headed out of the storage room into the empty hallways. It was nearly a direct shot to the hall in which Lo was being kept. Quietly, Addiver gave out signals in hand gestures to command his followers. They checked corners and positioned themselves around the doorway to the hall. Two men set themselves up as guards on station while the rest quickly filed into the hall. Yet, just as they did, a bell began to ring in the distance. Addiver looked back at the others.

"We've got to work quickly now," he whispered, and then rushed towards Lo. The Arcane Dragon was crammed into the space, body and wings weighted and bound by metal chains locked around thick pillars. There were obvious grooves from his struggles both on the stone and on the dragon. Lo looked tired, his eyes opening to look at the incoming group wearily, though widened as they rushed closer. Addiver and Gaddric began to work on a couple of locks while Thannel covered his hands upon a length of chain. He channeled his Ice Magic onto the links to begin to freeze it to a brittle state.

If she had not been furious before, as to the very idea of Lo's predicament, when the door was opened, she felt a rush of anger quite unlike her. Jammed into the space, obviously having struggled to the point of exhaustion. The poor creature looked diminished, like no dragon ever ought to.

Whatever happened, no matter what happened, Raleia knew that she had made the right choice in coming back for him. Without a word, she approached the chains and plucking one up, she clutched the metal in hand until the heat from her palms had severed through the links, then moved on to the next.

The bells were disquieting, and with a frown she glanced to Thannel and Coleite in concern, before turning her gaze to Addiver, "I trust that's not the call to dinner?"

"Ah," Addiver said as the mechanism in the lock clicked. "No, not really, no. It's...well... They figured out we're not in our cells. This is the first place they'll come looking."

Addiver had muttered something more, though at his distance it was unintelligible. He threw the lock away, and with the help of a few others, they began to loosen the chain around Lo. Thannel's links frosted over quite well to the point where it only took a small amount of force to break a link in two. Lo was beginning to feel the chains around him fall away, and he tried to stand and stretch his wings against the metal.

“Wonderful.” Coley said thickly, hands wrapped around a length of chain almost bigger than her waist. Anger fueled her magic, if erratically, and she stepped back when the dragon named Lo tried to stand. Slowly, tentatively, Coley took hold of the frost riddled chain once more, channeling her magic directly into the chain. It felt good to use her magic, it felt good to do something right. The horrid conditions the dragon had been staying in was unsettling, ire inducing, and not for the first time, Coleite wondered how they were going to manage to get the dragon out.

“Do we have a signal? From your guards posted outside?” Coley asked, turning away from the length of chain that’d finally snapped after a grunt and great tug. Coleite looked to Raleia and Thannel in confusion. “Uh, how exactly are we getting out of this hall?”

The chains around Lo fell off his form and clattered to the ground. Outside there were angry shouts muted by the thick oak doors. They were big enough for the small dragon to squeeze out of, and he immediately headed for them as soon as he could freely move. The other Guides quickly moved out of the way, unable to fully remove all of the chains from the all too eager dragon as he crawled towards the doors and smashed them open with a swift battering of his snout.

"Well," Addiver said. "Now we run! Follow me!"

The real royal guards cried out as the dragon broke free from the castle. Those that remained clamored into the hall after the lot responsible, weapons at the ready and determination across their features as they rushed forward. Thannel beckoned his companions to follow as he rushed after Addiver through a door on the other side. It led into another empty hallway. Turning a corner, they were met with another set of guards rushing towards them.

It was probably, in terms of scenarios, the worst they could encounter. Flanked on either end by guards, there was no discernable way out, but through. These were men sworn to allegiance, men who would fight... die, for their queen. And they stood boldly in the way of certain freedom. There were sure to be casualties, and the very thought was enough to break Raleia's heart.

This was what she had been hoping to avoid since the attack on Haven, yet it seemed inescapable. Drawing her sword free, Raleia took a shaky breath, whispering quietly, "Maker forgive me..."

Freezing a link on a chain was one thing, but battling a group of guards in a hallway was another. Thannel would never be able to harness enough water from the air to crystallize into frost upon even a single gauntlet. He couldn't even feel a source of water nearby he could tap into. And so he was forced to draw his sword; a weapon he only knew how to use in concept. Coming from a passive culture, he was only taught the basics just this past week by the Sur. It felt heavy and unnatural in his hand.

Addiver led the charge down the hall, and both masses converged in a clash of steel and shouts. Thannel kept his broken wrist at his side as he slashed towards a guard, meeting metal and having the weapon swung around so the guard could throw a punch. He rammed his shoulder into the guard swooped back with his sword once again.

"Get to the stairwell!" Addiver called out to the trio. Just at their side through the chaos was a small set of stairs meant as a back route for the servants. "We'll hold them off just go!"

Metal clashed with metal as Coley swung her axe and struck the shoulder plate of the nearest guard. The shock penetrated her bones and amplified the adrenaline coursing through her veins. It felt like burning ice, like a ripple in still water… except the ripple was steel and the water her blood. In a fluid motion she stepped backwards, raising her axe to deflect the other guard’s sword and by way of the spikes adorning the head of her weapon, disarmed him. Yet not before the guardsman’s momentum caused the deflected sword to slice the top of her forearm.

Stepping back once more, putting precious distance between herself and her enemies, she heard Addiver’s shouted message through the sweet, clattering song of steel. She turned to the side, mace still raised defensively, hands slick with her own blood, Coleite located the set of stairs just feet from the guard who was sprawled on the ground from the strength of her blow. He wasn’t dead, however, and she glanced to her side witnessing both Thannel and Raleia in the midst of their battles.

“Thannel! Leia!” Coley roared. “Work your way to me! The staircase is over here!”

With a deep breath and a heart blazing with determination and the longing of her truest friend, she side-stepped forward and kicked the shins of the nearest guard before raising her mace once more, and swinging with the might of a raging, justice seeking Warden.

The fray was maddening and disjointed, men and blades clashing, ringing, the chaotic sound so unlike the steady, pounding pulse of her heart in her skull that it threatened to take all reason with it's clamor. Coleite rushed to join the fight, Thannel as well and Raleia felt a wave of nausea, watching as they melted into the insanity. They were here because of her. There was no other reason. Thannel had come because he felt obligated to a friend and she had done nothing to dissuade him. He and Coleite both risked so much, on ultimately a whim... and their lives hung in the balance as much as Lo, as much as the guides.

And still she stood frozen, still compelled to pity the men that would kill them all without discrimination, to show mercy where none was given. Perhaps her finest strength also her greatest weakness. It seemed almost poignant, to a degree.

Motion caught the corner of her eye and with trembling fingers, she tightened her grasp on the hilt and moved at last for the wall of guards, swinging low to deflect the blade of a guard aiming for the back of one of Addiver's companions. Repelled, only momentarily, the man swung again, and Raleia raised her sword high to block, tension singing through her arms at the brunt of the attack. Back and forth, like an unfamiliar dance, metal met metal, but she was greatly outmatched and all too aware of the wall, coming up behind her.

Coleite shouted and Raleia looked - only a split second, but one too long. Pain seared through her shoulder, as the tip of the blade drove in. Reason was driven out by instinct and dropping her own weapon, Raleia reached to clutch the hands that gripped the offending sword's hilt, heat emanating out from her palms with desperate fury. The guard cried out, relinquished his hold of the smoldering blade and pulling it free from her flesh, Raleia tossed it aside, grabbing his shoulders before plowing her good knee into the guard's midsection. With a wheezing sound, he crumpled and pushing off from the wall, she swung in the direction of the other Dragon Warden. Palm pressed to her shoulder, blood pumping angrily, seeping through her fingers, she raced past the clash to the staircase ahead of her.

Steel clashed with steel as Thannel rushed for the staircase tucked along the wall. Addiver and his band of Guides insured to take up the slack to provide the trio with enough leeway to find their way to continue on. The castle was a labyrinth to those unfamiliar, and while Thannel chose to take point, his every turn was guess work and crossed fingers. As they rushed down a hallway, a harsh whisper called out to them.

"You there!" It came from the queen's ward; a Naveri by the name of Ilyanis Estros. It was the very same elf that had stood with the royal family during the trial. She looked to the three pleadingly as she motioned for them to enter her room. "I'm a Guide. I work with Addiver. Come with me if you want to live!"

Down the hall either way, Thannel could hear shouts and calls that pushed him to a quick decision. He rushed into the Naveri's room, sword at the ready as he placed himself between her and the Dragon Wardens.

For what felt like the umpteenth time since their arrival in the city, Raleia felt her heart shudder at the sound of a voice, calling out to them. It seemed one fright after another, but in yet another twist of irony, once more they appeared to have a friend in unexpected places.

Pain had exhausted all sense of rationality, and following Thannel into the room, she collapsed against the wall, pulling her palm away from her shoulder with a grimace, before situating it with more force.

"You... you were at my trial." Raleia frowned, looking to the elven woman, "In the Queen's box. I recognize you..." With some effort, she straightened, "We need to keep... moving."

Ilyanis quickly shut the door behind them, the heels of her fine shoes clacking against the stone floor as she rushed to her window. "Yes," she said, "keep moving. My window leads down to the gardens. You can sneak out from there. Damn that Addiver! Damn it all!"

Her frustrations shifted her focus to cursing all that had transpired as she brought out a rope from under her bed. It seemed she had escaped out of her window more times than once. Thannel moved over to Raleia with concern.

"Can you make it?" he asked.

Watching the woman curiously, Raleia considered their options. There weren't many left at this point, and while everything felt like a trap, sitting there, waiting for the guard to break through was certainly not a workable alternative. There was also something in the woman's demeanor, however, that despite her appearance beside the queen made what she said sound trustworthy enough...

Or perhaps Raleia was simply too tired to care anymore...

Glancing up as he moved closer, she met Thannel's eye and testing a weak smile, nodded, "Just a scratch. But you two had better go first... Not sure I'm much for climbing."

Thannel crouched down before Raleia, head shaking as he looked over the bloody shoulder she covered. "Can you lift your arm up any?" he asked. "You'll have to power through the pain for this, but if you can hold onto me I can carry you on my back down the rope. I've done it before. Constructs, and all, sort of rely on such systems of getting in and out."

Nodding, and taking a fortifying breath, Raleia pushed upright, off the wall, "I can manage, yes..."

With that, Thannel helped Raleia onto his back carefully and made his way to the door. Ilyanis quietly listened through her door before turning back to the trio. "I need you to send a message," she said quickly, fingers nervously fidgeting. Thannel halted upon her balcony with an incredulous look. Time was a luxury they did not have in an escape. But the Naveri's expression was enough for Thannel to offer a pause.

"Queen Malan," she began, but her voice hitched as tears streaked down her cheeks. She cleared her throat before continuing. "I need you to tell the orcs Queen Vivian Malan is dead. They... The royal physician said it was natural causes, but they're waiting to tell the citizens so as not to cast out their spirits before the coming battle."

Thannel was dumbfounded by the news and did not speak. Outside, the call of multiple dragons could be heard through the air as the afternoon sun was shrouded by the thickness of gray clouds. Ilyanis urged the trio onward as she held back her tears and explained the way out to them. It wasn't straight forward, but Thannel imprinted it to his memory. As the battle for Lo's escape raged on around the other side of the castle, and with Lo in the sky, the trio found their way out of the castle walls and eventually out of Rosenfall entirely without a hitch. They had made it and succeeded, and now they had news to report upon their return to the orcish camp.​

[bg=#F5E538]collab with @rissa & @Effervescent[/bg][/bg][/bg]
 

Rosenfall Castle

Leathered knees fell heavily onto the marbled floor of Rosenfall Castle’s throne room. Upon the stairs leading up to the host of elegant thrones stood the ghostly figure of the Queen’s Advisor, Lisella. She wore a gown as black as the void that hugged her frame like a vice as she stared down upon her captured prey. The Guides looked her in the eyes challengingly, but her interest remained on Addiver as she meandered over to where he knelt. The guards lined up behind them, swords drawn and to their backs as a threat to any sudden movements. Even as Addiver lifted his head to meet Lisella’s gaze he could feel the steel poke at his back.

“You idiots,” she hissed. Her voice echoed through the quiet hall lit by hanging lanterns. “You just condemned your families, your friends, to a fate worse than death. Are you incapable of fathoming what we are up against? These aren't our kin. These aren't our allies. These are orcs. And once they tear through this city they will march all the way to the sea and slaughter the rest of us. They will eat our flesh until there is nothing but bone and then they will suck out the marrow. They are ORCS.”

“That doesn't mean a dragon had to die,” one of the Guides pipes in confidently. Addiver felt like he would be sick, jaw clenching as an unsettling revelation became clearer in his mind. He could sense it in her gaze. Lisella was crazed. Something was off despite her understandable rage as she berated her captured like children. And due to his training, he was an adept strategist and able to walk himself through possibilities and variables. The one thing that pricked and scratched at his mind begged to come forward, and he wished it not to be.

“That Dragon was our last hope at meeting our quota,” Lisella stated as she straightened her stance. “We needed that meat to save the people of Thallas. And now we do not have it. Do you know what that means?” She looked over to Addiver. “I can sense something within you. A growing Darkness. Do you know what this means, Addiver Cald?”

“Yeah,” he said solemnly. “It means I get to kick your ass.”

Black tendrils lashed out from Lisella’s shadow like vines of the void, grabbing hold of Addiver as it slithered around his neck and raised him up into the air. He could feel his wind pipe closing, and as he gasped for air he reached up to his neck to loosen the tendril’s hold. But he could touch nothing but his own neck. His comrades gasped at the sight. It was her first true display of Shadow Magic, and they were stricken with awe and horror as they pleaded for his life.

“It means, Addiver,” Lisella said coldly, “ that you have volunteered their lives for the greater good,”


The Plains of Thallas
31st Day of Winter

A new day dawned on Thallas heralding the grim reminder of a debt in need of repayment. As the morning grew closer to the hour in which the deal was struck, cart upon cart began to roll up the hill to the Orcish camp. Livestock and sacks of grain piled high and the horses laboring the carts were even primed to be gifted. Cured meats from the local butcheries were packaged and prepared for a long haul along with produce. The wagoners hesitantly parked each cart in a row as orcs lined up on the front curiously, their banter interested in the prospects.

Lisella rode up the hill with Paulson and Addiver once again at her sides. Addiver was bound by his arms, shacked at the wrists, and gagged. He looked weary and in a stupor, his eyes lost as he stared at his horse’s mane. Gabad’zul called for his own party to convene at the front and rode out to meet the Thalls. Lisella motioned for a cart to follow.

“I did not expect you to be so quick,” Gabad’zul admitted. “Or to even bring us our demands.”

“As you can see,” Lisella said, “there is still more coming. We are good on our word, Gabad'zul. Now be good on yours.”

"How did you manage it?" Prince Asal asked curiously. "From what I understand this was an impossible endeavor.”

As the cart rounded the party, it halted before the orc leader. It was a cart covered in a tarp, the contents haphazardly thrown into its bed that created a lumpy mound. Gabad'zul curiously approached, his large hand lifting the tarp to reveal its contents. Within the cart were human body parts. Feet and fingers jutted from the masses piled upon each other. And while Prince Asal gasped at the sight, Gabad'zul laughed heartily and called out a command to the orcs lined at the front. The orcs charged forward and thrust their swords within each cart. As soon as they were sufficiently checked, they moved back to their positions, all the while Gabad'zul maintained eye contact with Lisella.

“You are a wicked woman,” he said in a tone of amusement. “And what are these people to you.”

“Your food,” she stated in return. Her lips pursed together in a bitter frown. “I have given you what you want. Will you leave Thallas peacefully?”

“If you meet your debt in full,” Gabad'zul said. “We will count.”

“Very well, then,” she said as she turned her horse’s reins.

"You will stay,” Gabad'zul commanded. Lisella halted her horse and was about to speak out when he turned his back to her to address his army. The orc’s voice boomed over the front line, arms splayed open as he addressed them in their native tongue. And then, he spoke to the others in theirs.

“Come!” he called. His expression was beaming and brimming with the prospects of chaos. He knew what he was inciting. “See the gift Thallas has offered to the Orcs of Usun’Drovad!”

@CloudyBlueDay @Elle Joyner @Red Thunder @rissa @Mactomaton @Toogee
 
[bg=#F5E538]

9fihn9R.png

[/bg][bg=#F5E538][bg=#339588]
The walk back to camp was no celebratory march. Lo was free, and that had been their goal, but it didn't feel like a victory. Not when they had been forced to flee, to leave everyone else behind. Her heart ached at the thought of Addiver and his friends, fighting back the guards at the idea that it might be the last time she saw any of them. They had risked so much to help the Wardens, and it broke Raleia to think that their decency might end in sacrificing their own lives. These were not expendable people... not to her.

When they arrived, night had long since fallen and the darkness was still and quiet, a few fires around camp lighting the way. Raleia was tired, but the small bit of cloth she had balled up and pressed into her wound was soaked through and her hands had begun to shake with exertion and strain.

Breaking the silence with a voice drenched in weariness, Raleia turned to Thannel, catching his arm, "How's your sewing?"

He had been shuffling his feet as fatigue was setting into his bones and muscles that begged for rest. Raleia's touch snapped his attention out of his weary state, a sharp breath inhaling through his nose as he looked over at the Dragon Warden. He had to take a moment to process her words, his head shaking away the fog as he understood. "Oh, yes," he said, "I suppose alright. Here. Let's head to the Sur tent. They have supplies for this sort of thing."

Guiding her to where the Sur were gathered once again, they waved at the two, but in the darkness and impairment of their campfire, they did not notice Raleia's state nor questioned of their whereabouts at this hour. Their conversation was tied up in a bear attack to which one had nearly thought himself dead. Thannel and Raleia would slip into the tent unhindered, and he brought a lamp to hang closer to her. "Let me take a look at it," he said as he hesitantly reached up for the blood-soaked cloth to gingerly pull it back from the gash upon her shoulder.

"It'll scar," he informed. "I'm not much of a tailor even. Ah... Your pick of numbing is either the orcish U'gul or the elvish Vin."

"Hm..." Making a face, Raleia shook her head, "I can't believe I'm going to say this, but I think I'd prefer the U'gul." Inside, she removed her cloak, then pulling a stool over, as gingerly as she could, she unlaced the corset ties on her vest. Peeling it free with a grimace, she laid it with her cloak, then carefully tugged the shirt beneath it away from the wound.

"I'm not concerned about the scar... I seem to be collecting them lately, anyway." Looking up, she managed a small, weary smile, "Thank you, Thannel. You have been indispensable, as of late."

He gave a bottle of U'gul to Raleia as he pilfered for the medical kit. He was likely the only suitable candidate at this hour to sew up her wound, for the elves sounded a little too inebriated outside the tent. Thannel returned with the needle and thread and began to wash away the blood and clean the wound with his own bottle of U'gul.

"Let me know when you feel a bit numb," he said. "Do you want to sit? I think sitting might do you well... I think..."

Taking a sip from the bottle, eyes squeezing shut at the taste, Raleia nodded and sank down onto the stool. There was a soft hiss as the foul liquid poured into the gash and with her free hand, Raleia gripped the edge of the seat tightly.

Slowly, she opened her eyes, looking from the wound back up to Thannel with a dry chuckle, "I've felt numb since we left Rosenfall... I know we did the right thing, but... but I can't help but feel like it just won't matter. Like none of this matters. Do... do you believe it? What that woman said? About Malan...?"

"I don't know," Thannel admitted as he began to thread the needle through the puckered wound. "I feel like I should trust her word... I'm like that, you know. Easily trusting. But I also can't rightly know until it is plainly evident."

Gritting her teeth, Raleia tightened her grip on the stool, eyes squeezing shut again, “I didn’t… at first. Believe it. But it makes no sense why, if they were going to try to trick us, they wouldn’t have announced it at the negotiations. What I do know is there was nothing natural about it. I just can’t… I can’t understand how this benefits Lisella...” Sucking in a sharp breath, she took another quick draw from the bottle.

“I… I want to hate her. Malan. I want to be glad she’s gone. For all she did… But I can’t. I never could. It’s frustrating… feeling sorry for someone when every base instinct tells you they’re your enemy. This whole mess… I know she’s to blame, at least indirectly, but all I can feel for her is pity. She allowed herself to be taken by the darkness… and it destroyed her. She could have been a great ruler, but fear and prejudice ruined her. Ruined this land. And now she’s dead, with little more to her legacy than an infant war begun on lies…”

The gash was long where the sword had bit through Raleia's shoulder, but with each pull of the thread it closed. "Maybe this is what is needed," Thannel added quietly. "I know that is a grim thought to bear, but perhaps her death can give way to a better outcome. Her son would take the throne, yes? Hopefully he does not share her... I guess the only word for it would be 'ideals.'"

"Perhaps..." Flinching, she took a long, slow pull from the bottle, "But we've still got Lisella to worry about. I don't imagine she'll give up power quite so easily. Even when Malan was alive, Lisella was making decisions... I fear whatever is coming, a peaceful resolution may not be possible." Looking over to him, she frowned softly, "Will you stay? If it comes to war, anyway? Will you fight?"

Securing the last of the stitching, he began to cover the wound as best he could with a fresh bandage. "Of course," he said without hesitation. "I decided some time ago I would not sit idly by. I may not be much of a fighter, but I can't in good conscience refuse to fight any longer."

He tucked the end of the bandage and pulled her shirt back over the shoulder. "I'm sure the stitches will come undone should things result in a battle tomorrow," Thannel added. "Just the nature of moving around when you should be healing. For the meantime, try to restrict your movements with that arm."

Testing the arm, giving a small nod, she reached for her vest, but paused midthought, "It just... it feels as though there is no cause... Nothing worth the risk. But then, I cannot abanondon the people I care about. I'm just not sure what we're fighting for..."

"We're fighting for our lives, I suppose," Thannel said. "Even if it is reduced to something that simple, it is still a cause. Consider if you were to do nothing. Your kin would still be declared kill on sight. Your people would be hunted and slaughtered. Dragons would be disrespected and used as a food source. And the Shadow threat might not ever be dealt with in a proper fashion. I personally see no choice as I have found my own reason to fight."

Carefully, she slipped the vest on, and working at the ties, nodded solemnly. He was right... of course. They had their own need to fight.... to clear their names, to free themselves, so they could live in peace. There were so few of them left, but to give up and fade into oblivion? It could not be an option.

Glancing his way, a brow quirked, as she tied off the vest, "What reason is that?"

Thannel huffed a small laugh in amusement and eyed Raleia curiously. "How much have you had to drink?" he asked playfully. "You should get some sleep. I'll take a look at your shoulder in the morning."

"Ha!" Making a face, she set the bottle on the edge of a table, shaking her head, "Not that much. I can still feel the stitches." Sliding on her cloak, she rubbed her shoulder with a small grimace, before reaching out, gently grasping his forearm, "Thank you, Thannel. For this... for everything. I don't know that I would still be here, were it not for you. I can only hope and pray that it does not come down to a battle... but I can think of no one better to have by my side."

Per his customs, the bow of his head was almost an involuntary reaction to her words. His silver hair fell over his face and curled back as he rose. "And I will stand by you," Thannel said in return.

Releasing his arm, she started for the entrance to the tent, but as she reached for the flap she paused again, glancing over her shoulder, "...Whatever your reason for staying, I am glad you did. Goodnight, Thannel."

[bg=#F5E538]collab with @Effervescent[/bg][/bg][/bg]
 
"Please Restrain Me,
Good Sir"

a collab between @Elle Joyner and @Red Thunder
Morning dawned with raucous energy, and outside of her tent, Raleia could hear voices and what sounded to be metal wheels rolling against the stony ground. Rolling upright, she grimaced, gingerly touching her shoulder. She could still feel the sting of the needle, the pull of the thread as the wound was stitched closed. Her knee ached, but as she rose to her feet, testing it, she was grateful to see it carried her weight better than it had the night prior.

Steadying herself, she moved for the entrance to her tent and stepping out, found the surprising sight of several carts, rolling into camp. Her heart sank as her gaze traveled to the front of the small caravan to find Lisella astride her mount and beside her, pale and transfixed, Addiver… hands and mouth bound.

Her feet moved of their own accord, despite the weight of fear in her chest, but as she stepped towards the carts she spotted it, sticking out from beneath one of the sheets and it froze her in place. There was no denying it for what it was, even twisted at the odd angle… a hand, poking out from the linen, limp and grotesquely colored.

“...No.” The word escaped in a whisper, her hands coming to her mouth as shock slammed through her with a great force. As her stomach recoiled, anger and sorrow filled her, the emotions threatening to overflowing, to overwhelm. Her hands shook, and as they lowered from her face, she balled her knuckles tight enough to turn them white, eyes twisting from the carnage in front of her to the woman behind it.

She’d kept him alive. Addiver. She had kept him alive… but not out of mercy. No. Even in her roiling fury, Raleia knew with full clarity the woman had kept him alive to torment him… to break him. She had murdered his friends, butchered them… and he was all that remained. She was a monster. The worst kind of twisted creature, and she had to be stopped.

Wrenching her sword free from its sheath, oblivious to the painful tug of the stitches, she started down the incline towards the small gathering.


Raleia had made it perhaps a handful of steps before a firm grip wrapped itself around her sword arm forearm. Old gnarled fingers tightened without bruising, and a bitter tone grated Stop. Waethrin stood behind her, though whether he'd intercepted her or had simply been ignored in the heat of her emotion, it was likely impossible to say. He had slept against the belly of his Drake, warmed by the fire that remained stoked within his belly. His eye was narrowed to almost closing, and from between the lids a dull red light shone.

"That wagon," he intoned, bitter but otherwise absent of emotion. "What do you know of it?"

To the pair's right lay Ancalagon, perhaps some thirty yards off. His eye was closed as if in sleep, but his breathing was measured; he was waiting, biding his time, ready to once more spring to battle. Steam rose from the dragon's nose, swept away by chilling winds.

Waethrin, convinced that neither he nor his friend were of any help to the others, had kept watch ever since the old man's meeting with Lisella. They had watched the trio sneak off and sneak back, and had said nothing. What was to be said? They acted as they felt lead. But he had wondered then as now what their actions had been, and what they had wrought with them.


A small cry escaped as Raleia's arm was wrenched back, the stitches pulling taut. Hand to the wound, she turned to find Waethrin, and as she met his gaze, her eyes narrowed.

Pulling her arm free, she gestured to the wagons, "She's killed them! That madwoman! The Guides... and who knows who else! She's killed them, and..."

The words caught in her throat as tears burned against her eyes, "This is what she's offered the orcs... for the debt."


The old man fell silent, mouth taut as he surveyed the approaching caravan. She was right; the wagon clearly held the dismembered limbs and gods knew what else of humans and possibly elves. Whether her claim was true, that they were Guides, was less clear, but the assertion that Lisella was at fault was a near certainty. The man that now rode bound and gagged had ridden free and unburdened just the day previous; clearly something of note had occurred within Rosenfall's troubled walls, and given the surreptitious manner in which his nearby companion had left camp yesterday, Waethrin suspected Raleia had something to do with it. And, too, there was the claim of Guides.

"Was there, perhaps,"
he muttered to her, "any reason she should offer the bodies of the queen's subjects? What could guide her to do such a thing?"


"There was a dragon... Lo. They were going to butcher him. Addiver informed me of it, after the negotiations. He and the others planned to free him, last night. Coleite, Thannel and I... we helped."
Frowning, she slid her sword back into it's sheath, rubbing her shoulder again, "We were attacked by the guards. Addiver and the other Guides, they stayed back to fight, so we could escape."

Turning to look back at the woman on horseback, Raleia shook her head, "...Malan's dead."


Waethrin's eye flashed at the news. Arms crossed, he glowered down at the approaching party, the vague bitterness replaced by a seething rage.

"She is mine."
The words fell from his lips like the stones that create an avalanche. Nearby, Ancalagon's eye shot open, the pupil long and narrow. He wanted rest, more than anything, and this entire ordeal was tiresome and annoying. But the Drake could not allow his Warden to enter combat without him. And too, he felt a smoldering anger within him for the near death of his brother Lo, though he didn't know them personally. Finally the old man looked back at Raleia.

"But know this: what follows will be a tragedy to match that of the tragedy of the Haven, yet it might have been averted by a lesser tragedy. As we Wardens are all but extinct, so too I feel that Rosenfall will be exterminated in the fallout. And that, to some extent, lies upon you are your companions. For myself, I'd have rather one dragon had died than countless innocents."

He paused, focusing his fury. And desperately trying to use it to suppress the weight of guilt he felt that he had allowed Lisella to survive those decades ago. He had not lied to Raleia; Waethrin felt her a key player in the deaths of the men in that wagon, and potentially for the deaths of those to come. But he was far and away more responsible, for by his inaction had the events of years past even been possible.

Turning, Waethrin began closing the distance to his dragon.

"Do what you will,"
the old man called over his shoulder. "Only leave her to me."


"...How dare you."
Her voice was even, flat almost, the depth of her emotion too much to convey in tone, "After what you did... How dare you lecture me on my decisions or judge my actions. Have you seen it? Rosenfall? Since your outburst?? Have you seen the result of your tantrum? No... You don't get to lecture me. Or any of us. You want Lisella, fine. I suppose to some extent you're owed that. But this entire disaster... it's not on my hands, nor the hands of any Warden but her. She betrayed us. Betrayed all of us... She murdered those Guides... the same as she would have if we hadn't rescued Lo. And now she will see us blamed for it. You don't get to do the same. Not ever."

Narrowing her eyes, Raleia stepped away, "If you are so in need of someone else to blame, you may look to your own reflection, Waethrin. You knew what she was capable of and you let her walk away."

Shaking her head, she spun on her heels and without another word, she stalked away, leaving him to his plotting.


He didn't even turn to see her leave; none of what she said was new to him. He'd said it all to himself a million times. But now was not the time for regret. Now was not the time for hesitation. Now was the time for action. Grabbing ahold of Ancalagon's scales, Waethrin climbed atop the dragon's back. Raleia had perhaps spoken of one thing he only now considered: his attack on Lisella in Rosenfall was disasterous to the innocents about them. He would not make the same mistake. Snatch and Grab, that was the key to this. Remove the players from the others. Unfurling his wings, Ancalagon beat them mightily and leapt into the air. They would have perhaps one chance to pull Lisella from her saddle, one chance before hell broke loose and she retaliated. Turning away from the approaching Thalls, the Drake began gaining altitude at an incline as if in retreat. The cloud cover would cameflague their dive. And hopefully increase the chances of its success.
 
[bg=#F5E538]

9fihn9R.png

[/bg][bg=#F5E538][bg=#339588]
Raleia left Waethrin's side with no particular destination in mind. She was angry... but more than that, she was hurt. Hurt that someone that so many had admired, before his self imposed isolation at least, could be so cruel to one of his kin... Hurt that he would assign her so much guilt but take none for himself. Perhaps most importantly however, she was hurt that he was at least to some extent right. Those men and women might have been fated to die regardless of her actions, but she would never really know the truth and the idea would haunt her, as long as she lived. Her only consolation was that Lo was alive... and with so many lost, it didn't feel like much of a consolation at all.

Tears burned at her eyes as she walked aimlessly back towards the tents. Waethrin would undoubtedly deal with Lisella, and so it should be, but it was all too little, too late. Even if the woman's hateful act had managed to stave off a between Thalls and Orcs, it seemed like true peace was out of reach, now. The Wardens had diminished in size... but also in usefulness, and where she had hoped so desperately that they might once again rise to their rightful destiny, it seemed as though they were little more than obsolete.

Pausing midstep, she turned again, her eyes falling on the caravan at a distance and wrapping her arms across her, she let the tears come with a small, desperate sob as she dropped to her knees on the snow dappled hill.

"Raleia."

His voice came from behind her. Thannel had followed her through the lines of tents after he watched Waethrin part from their secluded conversation. His own eyes glistened with tears that had already streaked down his cheeks and were wiped away. His voice held firm and calm as he called out to the wandering Dragon Warden.

"Where are you going?" he asked.

From her position. Raleia did not look away from the caravan, her own voice shattered, broken as she spoke barely loud enough to carry to the elf, her fingers curling into the frozen ground beneath her palms, "it doesn't matter. There's no where for me to go. I did this. I killed them. All of them. He was right... this is all my fault."

He felt just as responsible. Just as at fault. He was, after all, with Raleia and Coleite in the entirety of the Rosenfall affairs from the previous night. Thannel had come to know that Raleia irraitonally shouldered burdens on herself, and arguing against that would be just as fruitless as convincing himself the blood was not on his hands. "Get up, Raleia," he said softly. "We didn't know this was what would happen when we freed the dragon. We need to focus right now. The orcs haven't decided yet if Thallas has given enough food. We need to be prepared. Get up."

"When does it end, Thannel? When does it stop? We've been walking through a nightmare since Haven fell, and I see no end in sight." Slowly, using her good arm, Raleia righted herself, turning from the caravan to face him, "He means to kill Lisella, I think... Waethrin."

At her speculation, Thannel looked over to the darkly clad woman atop her horse. At this distance her face was barely readable, but it still felt expressionless, for what person in their right mind would offer people as food to their enemy? "Her time is coming," he said, and then walked over to Raleia, hand out to beckon her away. "Just take life day by day right now."

"Day by day..." With tears in her eyes, she studied him for a moment before stepping forward, her arms sliding around his shoulders in a firm, but gentle hug, "Thank you, Thannel. I fear I would be lost, without you."

His hand rubbed her back in a consoling fashion, though he felt just as disheartened as she. Thannel pulled back and managed a small smile of reassurance. "I'm always happy to help," he said. "How's Winnock? We may need to have you take to the skies like Waethrin. Do you know why he flew up there?"

"I think he's angry with me for leaving him last night..." With a small sigh, Raleia brushed the tears away from her cheeks, her gaze drifitng up with a thoughtful frown, "I... I'm not sure. I thought he would approach her on foot. You don't think he'll... If he comes down on the lot of them... Addiver is with her."

Thannel looked back up to the sky unsure of where Waethrin was or even if he was still around. "I don't know Waethrin well," he said, "but I never got the impression he much cared for humans. I don't think Addiver would be a concern of his."

"I don't think he cares much for anyone. I might have been responsible for what happened to the other guides, but we can prevent anything else from happening to someone innocent... She should face what's coming to her, but not like this."

"Like what?" he asked, and motioned over to the Thall party sitting on their horses as the orcs checked through each cart. "She faces nothing but the inconvenience of waiting."

Fingertips glancing over the hilt of her sword, she frowned, shaking her head, "You're right. I may very well be condemned... but I'll be damned before I allow her to get away with yet another atrocity. I... I would ask you to stand by me, once more, my dear friend... but I understand if you cannot."

"I will always stand by you," Thannel stated without hesitation. "Even to face the darkness ahead."

Blinking, Raleia looked to him and managing a small, weary smile, reached out to give his hand a gentle squeeze, "Then perhaps it will not be so dark, after all."

Releasing him with a nod, she pulled the sword from it's scabbard, "Are you ready...?"

He nodded to her in return with a serious expression, silver eyes darting back over to Lisella. "Let's go, then," he said.

It was about halfway to the caravan that Raleia paused, a brow quirked as she stalled, her eyes moving down the line of horses, resting for a moment on each guard, falling finally on Lisella. They wouldn't get close enough to do anything of use... not if violence was their goal. And maybe that was the issue. Violence to fight violence... wasn't that what they stood against? Wasn't that what they had always strove to prevent? When had it become normal to think that way... when had it become acceptable...?

Without a word, she slid the sword back into its sheath a second time and taking a breath, she continued along the path to where the negotiation party had gathered. It wasn't to Lisella that she spoke, however, but the man beside her, Paulson... her voice oddly gentle, tinged with just a hint of pleading.

"Good sir… How can you abide by this monstrous behavior? This woman beside you... she is not your queen... nor does she secede Malan. Yet you follow along with her demands? All of you... As though she commands you. But tell me, who is it in those carts? Who did she butcher like mindless animals... The people of Rosenfall. Your people. Men and women like you. Men and women who very well could have been you. Will you stand for this? What's done is done... but it won't stop. Not while she is allowed to continue manipulating you like puppets. She is the reason all of this is happening. She is the source… the cause of all our troubles. We stand on the brink of war, and for what?? For her?? The only reason any of this is happening is because of her. This is her crusade. My own people face extinction, because she led Malan to believe in lies. She will answer for her crimes, either way. The question is whether or not you decide to stand with us or against us. Whether you give in to the darkness like Malan did. Just know it isn't Thallas you serve, should you decide to side with this woman... It is indisputably the Shadow Army. They are the only ones who have benefitted from any of what has occurred. And they will undoubtedly benefit from a world at war…”

Lisella sneered at Raleia's words, eyes rolling before she looked over at Paul Paulson. He exchanged glances with her almost to share in the amusement. Addiver still vacantly stared on the other side of Lisella.

"Your people are responsible for the massacre of Edlenfeld," Paulson spat. "Responsible for killing so many in Rosenfall. Responsible for all this mess. Lisella is speaking on behalf of the queen, you idiot. I know full well she isn't the queen nor succeeds her. And so does she. I don't appreciate the likes of you telling me how I should feel when you have no right. Get back in line and let the orcs work unhindered so that we can all go about our business."

"If we were responsible for Edlenfeld... why would we allow our people to suffer so desperately now? It was but a handful of Shadow Wardens, yet the devastation they unleashed was unfathomable. If we were responsible for that, why wouldn't we just do to Rosenfall what we did there? If you won't see past her lies, at least see the lack of logic in that sentiment. We want a peaceful solution to this, as much as any of you. We have only ever wanted peace. And what happened in Rosefall was a tragedy, but we are no more responsible for that than your people. We were all misguided...misled. And one man's actions should not condemn his entire race. Or if it does, then you contradict yourself, standing with her. Do you know what she is? Lisella. Are you aware that she is a Warden? Or was...? That she abandoned her own people to join with the Shadow Casters?"

Frowning, she shook her head, looking down the line again, before fixing her eyes on Paulson once more, "...How can she speak on behalf of the dead? Does she speak now for the Queen's entire lineage? Or is it that she has lied to you about Malan's fate, as well? I implore you, do not allow the words of one woman, a coward... who would turn her back on her kin and orchestrate their end, dictate reason... and do not allow her to bring this to war that no one can hope to win. We will all suffer. Needlessly."

With a sigh, Raleia stepped back, her gaze drifting tentatively to Lisella, "Tell me... since it seems you have so little to lose. Why are you doing this? What do you profit from this charade? What could you hope to gain?"​

[bg=#F5E538]collab with @Effervescent[/bg][/bg][/bg]
 
Aurea could only watch as the exchange of goods to the orcs went through. Everything seemed to be going as planned until the last cart of food showed up. The young warden gasped as its contents were revealed: body parts. She had to look away as the orcs gathered around the horrific sight. In the back of her mind, she couldn't help but wonder whether this was the fault of the wardens. Did they force Rosenfall to such desperation? Raleia's plea to one of the Thalls revealed more to the story. The queen was dead. Lisella, former warden and current Shadow caster, was the mastermind behind all of their suffering. No wonder she resisted negotiations of any kind! Yet the Thall Paulson rebuked Raleia.

Once again, Aurea found herself questioning their role as wardens. How could they help those that didn't desire it? She looked up to see Waethrin riding on his dragon, disappearing into the clouds. Even he tried to make peace, but to no effect. She wondered if they should all do that: fly away and enjoy what peace they had left. The young warden thought of Idhrenan's sense of duty: it was their job to protect this world, regardless of the pain they had to endure. Was that the choices they had? A long life of peace or a short one of duty?

Plainswalker descended from the sky, landing behind the orc lines. He felt Aurea's confusion and suffering and thought she needed someone to lean on. Aurea left the proceedings, knowing full well that even if the orcs were satisfied, the wardens would still be hunted by the Thalls. They had to be ready to leave immediately.
 
Ancalagon
-the Flame of War-​

Up.

Up.

Higher.

Farther.


Ancalagon's wings beat against the wind, age and exhaustion causing the Drake to work harder and harder. But he had a purpose now. A direction. He and his Warden were of one mind, and after long years, they were in perfect agreement. The pair hovered there a moment, however briefly, the quiet surrounding them like a warm blanket of comfort in spite of the chill of the clouds. The pillow-like grayness was oppressive, surrounding them on all sides, as if even in the sky the pair couldn't escape their inevitable irrelevance. Yet there was no sound about them, the clouds muffling everything, so it was hard to be concerned with the petty bickerings and machinations of the small minded and the power hungry.

But maybe that was why they needed to go back down. Maybe that was why the Wardens were still needed. Still relevant. The world wasn't perfect. The petty, the small minded, the power hungry, they preyed upon those around them, living off the sufferings of others. The Shadow was merely perhaps a visible representation of that. A symptom of something worse within the heart of the world. Rooting out the true issue may perhaps be beyond Waethrin and his brethren, but it didn't mean they shouldn't act. And below them, many feet beneath their position, sat the cause of the Wardens' sorrow, and the sorrow of many others. Wings folded into the Drake's body, and Ancalagon fell like a stone.

They plunged through the clouds, gravity being their only guide. Ancalagon opened his wings on occasion, propelling himself with further speed, faster and faster and faster until at last they were back into the open air. Below them, growing increasingly in size, the full force of orcs and Thalls spread out below, ready to clash but as yet lacking the spark to rage. What they did was ultimately up to them, and whether the Thalls would react badly to the pair's action was to both dragon and Warden inconsequential. Justice was long postponed on her, and now was the time for it. Waethrin closed his eyes, gathering his thoughts. He raised his left hand vertically before his face, thumb facing him in a knife hand. His right he placed crossways against it, forming a cross shape. The furthest edge of his foremost hand shone red with a bright fire, and with a slicing motion forward, a small crescent of flame leapt forward toward the neutral ground. His left hand followed immediately behind it, slicing outward in a similar motion. The fire descending was immediately extinguished, but the air, superheated, still traveled downwards. The air shimmered as it traveled, distorted by the sudden if localized blast of heat. And Ancalagon followed immediately behind it.

The heat hit the ground, and to those in the immediate vicinity of the neutral ground between the war parties, it would have felt as though someone had suddenly created a bonfire. There was no such creation; instead the air began twisting, curling, shifting the perception of things to those who might look through it. The heat wave began dissipating almost as soon as it had made landfall, the cold air and the snow drawing heat away and spreading it widely until the temperature had evened back out.

But the momentary distortion was all the Inferno and his Flame of War needed. Ancalagon was already shifting into a more horizontal angle, in a direction to lead them far far behind Thall lines. The heat was around him, already leeching away, as he thundered toward the Thall advance party. Outstretched and down below his body, the old Drake's claws reached; ragged, wicked, bitterly sharp, they opened wide. Ready and poised to snag or impale the accursed Lisella and remove her an immeasurable distance from the front lines. And from any potential casualties.

@Effervescent
 
Last edited: