The Wishing Tree

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Ledinia found the injured woman hiding in a side alley just as she herself had done just a mere minutes ago. She looked at the woman and just kept staring at her, curious why she could only smell the blood of the injury and nothing else. If it hadn't been for her wound than the informant would have never been found. "You are the injured informant, am I right?" With haste Ledinia had made a mental link with the informant and she was sure that because of her haste that the words would arrive broken in her head. She tried to strangthen the link but was interrupted by Dealin introducing himself and him trying to help the informant with her wounds. Ledinia just looked quetly on when he tried to help, the ranger seemed friendly to all or at least polite.

Lediania's ears twitched again when she heard the drunkards joyfull and angry screams when they found them. She turned around and stood ready to defend herself. She was no fighter at all but she was able to bite a leg like an ordinary dog if it was neccesary. Before even one of the man was close enough Dealin came to stand in front of them treathening the drunkards and protecting the informant and herself. "Unless you want to fight as well, I suggest you help this woman get somewhere safe." At those words Ledinia nodded and relaxed her stance. For a moment Ledinia was worried about Dealin but he was soon joined by a wildman, an armoured guy and someone who looked like a veteran. With Ledinia's worry gone she quickly turned to the informant and looked her in the eyes as best as she could to quickly strengthen the link. "Follow me, I know the way out and a hiding place in the forest." She didn't know how much the woman had heard but she went with it. She pushed her head against the woman and walked a few steps in front of her. "This way." She said while looking back at her and twitched her ears and smelling the air.
 
It was beginning to get dark out, the first rays of sun dipping below the horizon. Farren sighed, then lit a candle so he and his sister could still continue to see despite the dimness in the room they shared. Callie looked up from her book, looking suspiciously around the room. "Did you hear that?" she asked Farren, gazing at him with her bright amber eyes. He shook his head no, then continued throwing the ball he had at the wall and catching it, making a slow, methodical rhythm on the faded wooden walls. Callie shrugged, then returned to her book, this one on the history of the Roman Empire. They sat like this in comfortable silence for another few minutes, when a louder noise rang through the farm, still barely audible but Callie who was right next to the open window could hear it clearly. As could Farren, evident by the sudden way he stopped bouncing his ball and turned his head towards the window.

"That definitely wasn't one of the animals. I think it might be coming from the forest. Let's go check it out." Callie said as she put her book down and grabbed a lantern hanging from the wall, lighting it with the candle. She padded softly down the stairs, not wanting to wake their younger siblings who were no doubt already asleep, tired out from their long day of playing and helping out around the farm. Farren rose and followed, careful not to make a sound as he followed his sister outside, where they laced up their boots and walked toward the woods. Luckily, the two were still in their normal clothes, not yet ready for bed, and were still wearing decent outfits. And a good thing, too. The night wind blowing from the direction of the forest was cool against their bare arms, but it was a great relief compared to the heat of the daytime.

They walked around the farm, checking to see if maybe it was a wild animal after their farm animals, but none could be found. The two strayed farther from the house and into the dim woods, not yet fully dark but enough to where shadows were cast along the trees and plants to form eerie shapes. Callie, holding the lantern, stopped suddenly, as if she heard a noise, but then she stooped down and looked behind a fallen log. "It's ok, little guy, come on out." She said, taking on a soft tone of voice. Farren came closer, seeing that she was talking to a large fox, a beautiful rusty red in color. "So that's what was making the noise. Alright, Callie, let her be. She's probably terrified by that lantern of yours." Farren chuckled. Callie stood, raising the lantern. "I guess you're..." She stopped, staring at something in the forest. "What is it Callie?" Farren asked as he walked closer to he again. But there, standing behind a tree, was the masked woman from the bar.

The one with the treasured information on the fabled Wishing Tree.
 
The crowd seemed to try and riot at the three men, at least until the militia finally pinpointed where the havoc was coming from and started to apprehend those who were brandishing weapons. This quickly caused the more sensible men and women to disperse. They would find the girl soon enough. The informant always stayed for at least a week before leaving. Besides, the others who didn't come to the tavern should have been done with the festival they were going to throw in preparation for the prince's coronation. So many exciting things were happening this week in Loria it seemed.

As the crowd dispersed, the militia quickly subdued the drunks and started to send them home, nodding to the men ready to defend the poor girl that had nearly been mobbed. The streets started to quiet again, the people calming down from the events of the day. Finally, some people started to go to the shops, getting a few last minute things before they had to rest their little ones down for the night. Tomorrow the streets would be fuller than they had been before. Soon partying would be at an all time high, but they were going to rest for now.

Normally, Yuki would have questioned the fox, asking how she could talk and why she should trust her. However, the blood loss had definitely messed with her head. She felt extremely dizzy, not sure where she was going or what was happening. She just followed the red fox until she ended up in the forest. The wound had stopped bleeding badly, though the occasional drip would continue. It was at least half an inch deep so stitches would be needed. Yuki sighed at the thought of the doctors using thread and stitching her back together. As if she would go to the doctors. The masked girl would probably just deal with a scar. It was better than being recognized.

Voices took Yuki out of her thoughts as she looked up, eyes wide as she stared at the two children. In her mind at least they seemed too young and innocent. It was forgotten to her that she was probably around the same age as them. "Stay away." Her voice still sounded young as pain made it crack and stutter. The last thing she needed was two kids trying to wrap up her wounds and reveal her to the whole town. She took a step back, ready to run again as she stared at the two. That other man probably could find the path she took anyways so moving would probably be best.

The girl faltered as she tried to take another step. She fell to her knees, grasping the wound in a futile way of easing the pain.
 
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As the streets began to clear under the weight of their arrival, one of the soldiers had passed a glance at the group of three armed men. Only one of them was worth of note to him, however. Quickly signing off with his commander after the day's worth of arrests, the soldier went about and into the narrower streets of Loria, eyes peering out into the losing light around him once in a while in cautious stance. Eventually, he crosses grass to arrive at the wooden threshold of a modest, unassuming winery at the edge of town. Entering with a good day's wish, the residents inside return the favor, wishing him just as well in return. An elderly man sat lonesome at a table to one side, busying himself with a short mound of paper and a jar of ink. Under the dim light of an oil lamp hung at the wall overhead, the pen he holds in one hand occasionally land on paper, he himself more lost to thought at the moment.

"Welcome," continued a young woman at the counter to the other side, propping her pretty, smiling face in the palm of her right hand. "You don't usually come here this late, Arne. Could it be... you needed something to soothe those stiff shoulders?" asked the girl, playfulness present in her tone and in the curving of her lips into a somewhat naughty, but still sweet grin.

The slight jerking in the soldier's shoulders translated his thoughts noticeably accurately.

"The last time I agreed to that deal, I got off more sore in the shoulders than I did before," the soldier answered, walking up to the counter. There was no smile on his face, and the girl's expression the next moment mirrored that well. "...But thank you. All I need tonight is a collected, intelligent outing."

"Ah... It's ruined, now," muttered the girl, slowly opening her eyes. There was perhaps a flicker of an interest on his part, but she stood up and poised to follow through with his business nonetheless. "Well, which name, to your good judgment, would suit such an outing? Choose carefully, because it could pain you in the end to leave into the night with a drink that does not fit."

"Andross Viedr," answers the soldier, well aware of the process. The girl, in response, bequeathes a small smile.

"This way, then," she replies, walking out of the counter and into the hallway at the side. The soldier turns to the old man at the table, and only follows after the girl after a short nod from the man. It seems the fiasco regarding the masked woman from earlier did not bear much on the town's stability. He was sure it was far from over, though, and wondered what the old man himself would have to do about the girl and her information on the Wishing Tree. His paper charms seem to be everywhere in Loria these days. Feeding him the sights and sounds of the town. Though, he did seem to have given up after that one particular dangling thread had gone bad...

Pulling himself back to the matter at hand, the soldier steps up his pace and joins the girl through a dimly-lit series of hallways, going down at least two flights of stairs at different parts of their short journey, and passing an increasing number of well-dressed 'gentlemen', either standing or sitting down. Despite their fearsome postures, they seemed gracious enough for the girl to greet upon meeting, and they themselves greeted her just as kindly in return. It always worried him, and she'd noticed long ago. She'd still refuse to enlighten him, however.

Finally, she unlocked one last door and held it open for the soldier. The girl herself would not join him after this point. Inside, he would unease the knob of another wooden door, and be met with the sight of a group of men sitting around a circular table; those usually reserved for grand meals. But tonight, it was being used for a miniature game of war and risks, played by purported 'shadow-kings' of the business world. Almost all of them looked like anything you'd expect out a bigwig corporate, except one. That one person, after a moment of silence, calls the soldier to come up by his name. His red hair swishes to the side as he turns away from the rest of his gamers, none of them made more wary in the slightest by the arrival of the soldier.

"Andross," the soldier whispered to the red-haired young man, whose eyes shone in the one source of light in the room available to them.

"The 'Ouroboros' is here."
 
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The woman sat at the back of the tavern, golden eyes peering at the abundance of people gathered here. It seemed to fill up just a bit more every day thanks to the rumor of a man with intelligence on The Wishing Tree. Long, slender fingers closed around a glass of Bourbon as she lifted the beverage to ruby, red lips. Partaking in the alcohol, the fiery female gave a satisfied sigh. Just as things always did, the group at the bar became rowdy, and it was at that moment that she rose from her seat at a sturdy little table, and made her way toward the exit just as the dull hiss of a smoke bomb sounded behind her. She chuckled to herself as she turn to the right, and made on her way down the street. The Wishing Tree would be the death of many fools, and the downfall of those desperate enough to gather what information they could, and seek it out. Why couldnt they see that it had left for a reason. Humans were greedy, and non human races were even more so. Asterii's ruby lips curved into a crescent smile at the thought. Of all the race's she knew of, the Veosyphrii were still among the selfish, and greedy herds, but none of the women had ever once sought the Tree.

Stiletto heels click on uneven cobblestone as she turns down a harmless alley, a shortcut to the cozy little Inn she was staying in for now. With each lively step she takes, silken spiral curls the color of blood bounce against her shoulders. She was the epitome of perfection in a single woman. Pale, fair skin unblemished, long, natural hair, beautiful golden eyes, and a body to die for. When she emerged from the alley on the other end, many male eyes fell upon her features, and then fell to her bosom, which was nicely accentuated by the tight fitting corset that hugged an hourglass figure. She flashed them a coy smirk, and bounded on her way, the violet, Victorian-esque gown she donned swishing with her footfalls. Perhaps she would be the first of her kind to seek out this tree. Perhaps she would wish for the existence of Male Veosyphrii just for her amusement. Perhaps she could wish for gold, riches, and fame. None of which she really needed. Asterii was wealthy, but humoring herself about the Tree was amusing for her. At least for a minute.

She eventually came across the Red Dragon Inn, and stepped inside only to be greeted by a plump, toad like female from behind the counter. She was greeted like this everytime she stepped foot indoors, and it always caused her to smile, and offer up a gentle greeting in return. The toad woman was the owner fo the Inn, and very kind. So there was no reason Asterii shouldnt be back, correct? Yes. Fetching her key from the Toad woman, the Syla female ascended the stairs, and made her way to Room 5, the room she had been occupying for nearly two weeks now. As she entered, she was greeted by a man she knew not, and golden eyes narrowed as she gazed upon him. The man turned to view her when he heard the door click shut, and a snivling little grin curved his cracked, dry lips only to reveal his dirty, yellow teeth. "Miss Raeym, i've been waiting for quite sometime now. See, I got orders to bring ya in....your Blood Magic is worth something to my boss." He chuckled, his gravely voice echoing in her ears. Such a fool, his employer had sent him just as he had sent many others, to apprehend her, and bring her to him. Supposedly her ability was supposed to help him scare information of the Tree out of an unlikely informant. Human really were simple fools.

She laughs, and steps into the room casually, dropping her beaded bag, and parasol upon the kitchen table before making her way over to a wardrobe so that she may replace within it the shaw around her shoulders,"My my my, not even a hello, or a meal? Just snatch up the damsel, and away we go? Your boss really should take up a lesson on manner, and etiquette." As she speaks, her sharp, middle nail digs into the palm of her right hands. As she turns her body, her hand shoots out, and from it flings a red throwing knife. A knife that plunges itself deep into the skull of her "captor". She sighs, and makes her way over to the body that is now slumped over on the floor. Bending down, she retrieves the knife, the blood it is created from seeping back into her palm. "This Wish Tree is becoming more troublesome by the day..." she muses to herself, letting her body fall into a chair at her table, elbows propped on it's surface, cheeks resting in her palms.
 
After making sure Ledinia got away with the informant, Daelin turned and loosened up, ready to throw down if necessary. However, the arrival of three newcomers threw off his game plan a little. First was an archer who was clearly not from around here, judging by the accent with which he shouted his only words. Second was someone he actually recognized, the Bronze Statue Draso himself. Pleasantries would have to be for another time, as he seemed as ready to fight drunks as the ranger was. Third and final was a worn-looking man who appeared to be some sort of mercenary, but that was just Daelin's assumption based off of attire. If he was a mercenary, his words betrayed him. This man called to pre-empt the fight, something that Daelin agreed with now that the target of the drunken fools before him had made her escape. Daelin relaxed his position, feeling somewhat foolish that he was the first to resort to drawing blades to deal with civilians. He was a Ranger, not a guardsman or knight. His job was keeping nature in check, both from threats within and from outside. Perhaps it was the subconscious desire to know of the Wishing Tree's whereabouts that caused him to step in to the defense of someone who by all rights Daelin had no business with. Not his desire, no, but his sister's. Daelin had made a promise to her, and he intended to keep that promise, but he would do it on his own. He had no need for mystery informants and fantastical promises.

One of the drunks had shouted at him, breaking Daelin free from his thoughts, and intended to charge him. Before Daelin could ready his blades once more, however, the city militia found the source of what had become a raging commotion. Their effect on the populace was immediate and absolute: the mob began to disperse, and the citizens went back to their daily lives. The drunks were apprehended, and Daelin nodded back at one officer's greeting. Finally sheathing his blades, Daelin turned to see Draso walking up to him. "Haven't seen you in a while, Draso." he started, his good intentions betrayed by his gruff voice. "Although, I'm afraid if you want to catch up we'll have to do it on the road." He gestured behind him at the alley. "I sent.. a friend out with that woman those drunkards were chasing. They'll no doubt be hiding out by now, far away from any modern medical attention." He hesitated a little, as his eyes flicked quickly between the other two who had participated in the scene and the dispersing mob, and then lowered his voice. "On second thought, rushing straight to her may not be the best of plans at the moment." He leaned in closer and lowered his voice even further. "Let's head to our usual haunt. We can catch up there and dispel any suspicions, and then we can meet with the informant afterward." He stood back up and clapped a hand on Draso's shoulder, returning his voice to normal volume. "Let's just hope you don't fall asleep too soon, eh?"
 
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They had arrived at the forest when it had already become dusk, the injury of the girl had made it difficult to travel quick to Ledinia's hideout. Now they were stuck near a farm with no way to safely guide the informant trough the forest. Maybe it's better for her to stay near the edge of the forest. Even considering the risk of being seen. Ledinia jumped on a big log to get a better view of the surroundings and maybe come up with a plan.

It hadn't been smart of her when she realized she was putting weight on a rotten part of the log. She fell trough and off it with a loud crash and sent the log rolling with her sliding behind it unable to find her grip on the slippery ground the log left behind. The log came to a stop against a tree and she bumbed against it, her heart thudding loudly in her chest. Ledinia was still catching her breath and trying to calm down when a light blinded her. Still a bit jumpy from the little trip she recoiled at the voice that followed it, the voices made it clear to her in what kind of situation they were in. They are going to find the informant. I need to get her away from here.

The voices had already drifted away a bit when she came from behind the log. It didn't mean that everything was safe and it made her wary for the figures that she could she in the lantern light. A difficult stay away could be heard and as fast as she could she went to the girl again, only to see her on her knees and clutching the wound. This isn't good, I need to get her to Deanil. He will probably be at the ranger house by now. But first. Ledinia walked up to the informant and stood next to her. "Just give me a moment, I will get something for the pain. It's close by." Ledinia looked at the strangers after saying that to the informant, the only person near who she had a mental link with, showed her teeth to keep let them keep their distance and then turned away.

She smelled the ground untill she found the trail to a bush. As soon as she was near it she started to dig and pull out a root. It was a small brown root and it was dry from the summer heat. She returned immediatly to the informant and put the root near her. "Chew on this, it will relieve the pain. It won't dissapear though." The search and the digging had only take a moment but she had been worried that maybe the two had taken her away, but luckely they had not. Or the informant had been able to keep them away from her, wich was doubtfull. Again she took a position between the injured and the strangers. She had a feeling that the girl needed protection no matter if she was the informant or not.
 
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By the time Sudarshan got far enough from the bulk of the crowd that he could see what was going on, he could make out what seemed to be a Ranger on one side of the fight, but he was guarding nothing but empty space. His mind raced to determine what had happened. Of course. The Ranger had been protecting the masked girl from the crowd, and the girl had managed to get away. What a noble thing to do. It was probably not what Sudarshan would have done himself. Sure he'd left his weapon in its sheath and shown no sign of wanting to fight, but that didn't really make him a better man than the rest of the men here, did it? They wanted to find the Tree. He wanted to find the Tree. He had no more claim to it than these drunken fools did. As the commotion calmed and the crowd dissipated now that authorities had arrived, Sudarshan merely sighed as he turned and began to slither back to the tavern, his pace slower than it had been on the way out. I have a wish, and it's as greedy as anyone's, he thought, his facial expression one of defeat. What right do I have to think I can cheat death?

It was a few moments before Sudarshan froze in the streets, suddenly noticing what was below him. A weak trail of blood dotted over the cobblestone. His gut twisted into an uncomfortable knot. If that masked girl had been wounded in the scuffle in the tavern, it was no wonder the Ranger and the foreigner had tried to protect her. All the more reason for Sudarshan to give the poor woman some space and drop this mad pursuit. He tried to remind himself that he hadn't lost much. He'd been planning on heading to the library to look for information on the Tree anyway. So why did his chest hurt so much? He hesitated in the doorway of the tavern, his hand straying to his bag as he found himself unable to stop a mental image of a certain object within from coming to mind, causing an emotion he hadn't wanted to feel again to well up in his throat and burn in his eyes. But he swallowed the feeling and held back what had been just about ready to turn into tears. He couldn't show that kind of weakness right now. It was rude of him to sit here having a pity party in the doorway, anyway. He moved inside to get out of the way, and by the time he reached his former place at the bar, he'd quelled the unwanted emotion back down to a dull ache in the deepest part of his heart, nothing more.

"Ale," he grumbled at the barkeep. "A pint. I don't care what kind, just one of the stronger ones. Heavy on the hops." And then, almost as an afterthought, "Do you know if that girl will be back tomorrow?"
 
Draso nodded and was filled with happiness due to the fact that yet another familiar face greeted him. At first, his friend had wanted to immediately pursue the informant, but it didn't take him long to come to his senses. They would instead speak somewhere more private. He nodded and walked alongside Daelin, staying relatively silent. He hadn't seen him in nearly three years; that's a lot of catching up to do.

"What kind of information does this informant have? She seemed fairly... Popular back there."
Could that girl have been the informant he was instructed to find? He hoped so. His journey here was a pain in the ass to say the least...

-_-_Flashback_-_-

Draso walked along the dirt path. He was tired already, although he hadn't traveled far yet. He wondered why that could be. The shouts and laughter of marauders stopped his heavy eyes from shutting. He looked up; three men and a woman, all of them were armed, too.

"Right now isn't a good time to screw with me, children." His voice hinted at agitation for the situation, but oddly enough, no fear. Fear was fools errand, and Draso was fully aware that it wasn't a fair fight.

They'd needed 3 more men to make it fair.

"You should be more afraid than what you are, old man."
Old man? Draso was far from old. He pulled a bronze war-ax off of his back. The bandits chuckled and one of them strode over to Draso, sword draw. He pressed the tip of his blade to Draso's armored throat.

"Are you a fool, old man?" the raider and his friends all laughed in unison, but their laughter was cut short as their accomplice fell to his knees, a war-ax lodged in his skull. The other three rushed Draso, who had pulled out his second war-ax...
 
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The warm wind blew lightly between the trees, tousling the shrubbery softly, making the patches of dirty grass ripple across the forest floor. Beneath the cover of her large parasol, the tips of raven hair met sunshine. Dangerous. Luckily, her strands were nothing more than dead cells without nerve endings.

Running a cold tongue over razor fangs she pulled herself closer to the cover of the trees. Standing a few yards within the woods, blood eyes surveying the village. She was too thin, too fragile looking. To another far enough away, she'd look like nothing but a poor peasant who happened to come by- or maybe even steal- a fancy parasol and some jewels. Which wasn't exactly wrong... Maybe someone would take pity on her, come to give her a coin. Some bread.

Come closer...
Ah, you ignorant, fleshy sacks filled with sweet nectar.
Come.

The words rang so clear in her head that she almost said those sinful words that danced on her tongue aloud. Her eyes lower, it would not matter. They would see her eyes and torches would alight, the holy water and garlic would come out. Garlic was so strong for her sensitive nose. She winced thinking about it.

The village was alight with passion, a fire that Kassie didn't share. No, those hearts beat for selfish wishes, desperate wants. Kassie knew, she knew her wish though would make the lives better for not only herself, but everyone. Those who realized someone found the tree first would be sad, upset, angry beyond words... But in time they would thank her. She turned softly, there seemed to have been a havoc of some sort. The humans had looked not on excited but shocked. Gossip traveled quickly.

Kassie didn't know why she had come to the village, she knew she couldn't meet the man to speak of the tree herself. She'd be murdered. Pressing her hand against the tree, she felt the tree's warmth. Everything to Kassie had a warmth, because her own temperature was so cold. The wind blew, catching her off guard, and the rings on her left hand twinkled. Beneath them perfectly pale skin bubbled and burned. A noise caught in her throat, and a dark metal ring with a ruby for it's center slipped off her melting fingers into the grass.

Kass pulled her hand to her body and walked away whispering nonsense to herself to try and make the sharp pain go away. Luckily her long-sleeved shirt covered most of her scars from the sun, but this was sure to be a visible scar for all to see. Not that many people saw her... Ah how she longed for beauty. Trecking through the woods cradling her hand in the crook of her arm holding the umbrella she didn't bother to look down to make sure she had all her fingers. Instead she looked for a good shady place to sit and stay until the night.
 
As the soldiers took away the perpetrators, one also found a foreign man who had injured some people with his bow and arrows. "Sir, you're coming with us." The man took the foreigner against his protests to the jail, taking his weapons away. That was the last anyone had seen of Tawali in Aliana.

The bartender was more than glad to help the poor naga as he shook his head. "I don't think she'll be coming back after that whole swarming. Though, I'm sure she'll still be somewhere around town." The man's two fox tails twitched as he handed Sudarshan his drink. "Though, if I were her, I would hide in the forest. It's hard to find a lot of people in there if you know where to hide. But what do I know? If I were you, I would go home and think a little about it." The bartender gave a wink before moving along to another man and woman giggling with each other. It wasn't much, but it could have been a start.

The fox brought Yuki some sort of root that supposedly would help her with the pain. The girl nearly wanted to scoff. She was stretching her trust just following this damn fox, there was no way she was going to eat the root. At least not right away. She shoved the root into her pocket, eyes glancing around. She didn't know what else was in this forest, and she had a feeling that something else was going to pop up soon. The informant pulled out a small knife, wincing as she jostled her wound a little too much. The fox was standing between her and the strangers, but she wouldn't be protected without at least seeming like a threat.

"I suggest you go home before the dark things of the forest come out." Her voice was hoarse, giving a sense of urgency as she wanted the two to get away. Too many people had seen the 'informant' and word would spread quickly. As if it already hadn't. A chill kept running up her spine as she kept an eye out. There was something else in this forest besides a 'special' fox.
 
Daelin glanced over his shoulder at the now thinned out crowd, but kept walking alongside his companion and friend. There weren't many Daelin could truly call "friend", thanks to his harsh outlook on the subject, but Draso was one he definitely considered a friend. "I wouldn't know, personally. Though the frenzy that tavern was whipped into suggests that she had information on the Wishing Tree." he answered. "Haven't seen such a commotion since the prince was born, and I was only five then. My sister was older, and told me all about things like that as I grew up." he added, answering the obvious question of how he could remember something from when he was that young. Though, mentioning his sister hardened his gaze a little, and he turned his head back towards the area ahead of them. Even among friends, there were things he never spoke of. His sister's death and subsequent wish was one of those things. Before he could get caught up in his thoughts again, he found himself in front of their destination: the Smokey Oak, a somewhat overlooked tavern that the Rangers were rather fond of. It wasn't as popular, so it was less prone to riots and rabble-rousing like the kind that happened earlier. The barkeep was friendly and the ale was tasty, and that's all Daelin asked for in a tavern.

"Daelin! Draso! It's been ages since we've last seen your ugly mugs here." The barkeep's grizzly voice rang out across the nearly-empty tavern room as Daelin pushed open the door and let himself and Draso in. "Still not as ugly as yours, Garret." Daelin quipped, forgoing his usual seat at the bar for a table at the side of the tavern, earning him a quirked eyebrow and a shrug from the proprietor. Garret knew what it meant when Daelin sat somewhere other than his usual spot. It meant that sensitive information would be discussed at some point, and that Daelin would be staying past closing hours. It hasn't happened often enough to warrant worry or concern, but Garret was still wary every time Daelin silently requested the privilege. "I'll have my usual."
 
Her milky rose eyes glanced down at her hand. The gray, darkened flesh coiled around her ring and pinky finger all the way down to her wrist from where the sun burnt her. The ring is gone... Her disappointment was not there though, it was merely an observation. That ring meant nothing, as she had found the shiny object in the woods where she roamed. Where it came from, she hadn't a clue. The sun turned everything a soft pink color, the shade looked an even darker blue. It reminded her that darkness was soon to fall. Thank God.

Walking quietly now her eyes searched the forest, she weaved in and out of trees avoiding dead leaves and noisy sticks. Eyes glancing down at the ground to watch where she was going she noticed a few beautifully shining rocks in the sunlight and slowed. Ah, how pretty. Stopping to reach down, her head suddenly swirled with a lightness, and she realized the glow was not from the sunlight but a lantern. The scent was blood. Kassie stood tall, black hair creating a soft curtain around her shoulders.

"Oh." Was all she could manage, her voice soft, low, and lulling. Like a siren, she was supposed to attract her meals. Then again if that were the case, why were her eyes a demon's shade of red? Her eyes didn't leave the masked woman's knee as she said her words. Oh indeed.

Swallowing slowly she willed herself to run away. But she didn't. Dark circles and bony frame, Kassie was starving. In every sense of the word. But she didn't deserve food. She didn't want it like this. I can't. Yet still her body cold and desperate for it's nourishment, did not budge. Her eyes didn't move. She didn't even dare to breathe. The only thing that made it's presence known was her small pink tongue that ran over glistening fangs that poked into Kassie's lower lip.
 
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"No more arrows.." Aspen muttered as she pulled her hand away from her empty quiver with dismay. At the sound of Aspen's mutter, the dragon hatchling scuttled away in panic, in search of its mother.

Aspen had been watching the hatchling for what seemed like ages, waiting for the perfect moment to strike. Figures that Aspen's ignorance had caught up to her this time. "Serves me right." Aspen pulled herself up from the mossy ground and wiped off her sabor leggings. With a sour mood, Aspen kicked a tree stump and began to make her way back to her camp where she would gather more arrows and hunt for the hatchling once again.

Whilst she walked, the birds and rodents made cheerful melodies and beasts' occasional bellows served as comfort to Aspen. This was her kind of life- the wilderness. Where she wasn't harassed by tons of people like that of the town life. The thought of the town gave Aspen shivers, made the hair on the back of her neck stand up. She was always considered the misfit of the townsfolk, being an elf instead of human.

She was different from the others- standing a foot taller than the average human man. Her purple-tinted skin reflected elaborate tattoos mocking those of sabor stripes. Her hair was thick and blue, giving off a faint ghastly glow and just barely hid the lengthy, pointed ears of hers. But the trait that segregated Aspen the most from the townsfolk were her abnormal eyes. They reflected shades of pink and purple, eerie to most, but they were the only eyes she had.

Nearing the camp, rustling could be heard from the undergrowth. Aspen stepped closer and the racket grew louder. Just as Aspen reached the bush, a large beast leaped from the shadows of leaves and pined Aspen to the forest floor, it's large face pressed against Aspen's.

Aspen took a deep breath.

"Hey there, Lansing." Aspen chocked to regain her air and placed a small kiss on the large sabor's nose. Lansing, the large beast, returned the kiss with a loving, welcome lick. "Ew!" Aspen exclaimed and pushed the cat off her.

"You'll never believe what I seen! It was the dragon hatchling! Right under the Great Oak.. Gosh, I had the perfect shot.. If only I had some arrows..." Aspen exclaimed while she tore through the undergrowth to enter the camp her and Lansing shared. Lansing gave a small meow, "...And we could have had us a nice dragon stew, I know it's your favorite.. Ugh! How frustrating!" Aspen continued as she made her way to her chest, kneeled down, and dug through her belongings. "Arrows... Arrows.. Where areee yoouu.."

After a couple minutes, searching became frantic. "Oh no.." Lansing padded up next to Aspen as she slumped down.

"We're out of arrows. We have to go in town.
 
Farren grabbed Cassie's wrist, pulling her back from the girl before she could get herself hurt. "Don't Cassie. She has a knife, and even with that injury she looks like she isn't to be messed with." Farren said cautiously as he pulled his sister away. Besides, he thought. It was dark anyway, and he didn't want to be dealing with a possibly wild animal and a sought-after girl with a pub full of drunks after her late at night. That was just asking for trouble. Although, the animal did seem quite at ease, and he had never seen a fox this large before. Maybe there was something special about it...

And then, they noticed the other girl. She seemed to have blended in with the shadows at first, but now Farren could see her clearly. He grabbed on to Callie's arm and pulled her, despite her protests, but he was suspicious and didn't want her to get hurt by this mysterious new girl, the girl with the knife, or the possibly wild animal that were all in the vicinity. No way was he going to let her curiosity get her hurt. He couldn't live with himself if that happened.

But Callie was persistent. She wrenched herself out of his grasp and walked over to the girl, only to stumble into the new girl who was standing nearby, a hungry look in her bright red eyes. "Sorry, I didn't mean to knock into you..." Callie started, but stopped when she saw the girl's eyes.
 
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Aspen and Lansing made their way into to town. The two were complaining all the while and making rude remarks and silly faces, of the humans. The two knew that it would help none to be this way, but it made Aspen feel better at the moment. She absolutely hated going into town, and though she knew the humans weren't as hostile to her now that other races went into town often, she was still nervous as to being seen as different. Lansing didn't quite understand his owner's fear of the humans, but helped Aspen cope through it.

Since the two were heading into town, Aspen had decided that she may as well buy other supplies that were running low or they were out of.

With a hopeful mutter, Aspen said, "Who knows? Maybe I'll meet another elf? Perhaps another Night Elf?" Aspen looked at Lansing and then laughed. There would be no way. It had some couple decades since the last time she had witnessed another elf. It would be nice, however..

The two neared the town as the undergrowth thinned out to nothing but the occasional maple and birch tree. Aspen ran her fingers along the bark of a young birch and looked ahead at the town of people. She sensed some sort of tension among the town that had just recently passed. Then Aspen remembered that the person who knew of the Wishing Tree was said to be coming to town. Aspen shook it off, she didn't believe that any mortal would know of the tree's existence.

With a shake of her head, Aspen headed into town with Lansing trailing behind her. Aspen walked up to a near townsfolk and asked "Excuse me, can you tell me where I can buy some arrows?" She hoped this person wouldn't make any comment about her appearance.
 
"If I were you, I would go home and think a little about it."

That was what the barkeep told him. Sudarshan frowned in confusion, the hard gaze he shot the other man all too clearly saying, That's not helpful. This guy could have been urging him to summon the will to seek that girl out just as easily as he could have been hinting that he should give up the pursuit and find peace with his mundane life. He stared into his drink for stretches of a minute or more in between sips. He knew no one here, nor did he feel like getting to know them right now. Maybe tomorrow he'd feel livelier, but his hopes weren't high. By the time he finished the portion, he had decided that he had no reason to remain here, so he paid his tab and returned to the street, by now lit with the soft light of evening.

Again he found himself grateful that the inn recommended to him wasn't very far away from the tavern, and it was a cozy joint at that. Even as he entered the front door of the Red Dragon Inn, he found himself feeling better, soothed by the atmosphere. Being in here meant that he would have his warm bed back very soon. This was the last night he had booked; perhaps it would be prudent to pay for one more.

He'd been just about to head down the hallway that housed the few ground floor rooms when he halted in his tracks. He smelled something, something very familiar. If his inkling was correct, it was the scent of blood. Worry flickered across his face. Why would he smell blood in an inn? A forked tongue darted out from between his lips to taste the air and draw it back in against the sensitive organ on the roof of his mouth. Oh, yes, that was blood. A strange sort of curiosity was now piqued inside him, the same protective urge that had spurred him toward a mercenary life in the first place and given him the stubbornness to only accept jobs he deemed sympathetic enough. There had been trouble here. He slithered toward the staircase, his tongue periodically peeking in and out of his mouth to pinpoint the source of the scent. It was indeed coming from upstairs, and even though no sane naga liked stairs, neither could he ignore the thought that there had been some kind of fight in this inn while he was away, most likely leaving someone gravely injured. If he could save even one person from the brink of death...one person in place of the one he had wanted to save...well, it didn't compare, but it was something, a something strong enough that it clawed at his heart.

He gritted his teeth and began the ascent, taking most of the weight with his arms on the railing rather than the stairs themselves. After a minute he made it to the floor above, sighing in relief as he settled his weight on a flat surface again. The scent of blood was all too strong up here. His scales scraped quietly across the floor as he sought the source. Here. Room Five. He didn't need to use his tongue anymore to know something violent had happened on the other side of this door. Was it his business to inquire? Probably not. But he couldn't find it in him to ignore this now that he'd come all the way here. He rapped on the door with his knuckles. "Excuse me, is everything all right in there?" he called. As he lowered his hand, he settled his grip on the hilt of his weapon, ready for any trouble.
 
A long day of performing makes even the most sprightly jester weary, and Gerome found himself sitting on the side of the road with his back against a building. Weary, yet still positive, he hummed a bit to himself as he relished in just sitting back and watching the world go by. Gerome had never been one for materialism, content to just sit down and watch the stars. Of course, being ascetic only got you so far in this world, and Gerome was at least savvy enough to make some money. Not too much, just enough to survive and get by. Gerome could use his magic to create whatever he needed, anyway. It took a toll on his stamina, though, and so it comes back to Gerome resting up on the side of a building as the dark of the night takes hold over the city, the stars peeking out wherever they can. The moon's eerie glow bathing the streets with a pale tint and making the scene most beautiful. "Sometimes it's best to just sit down and take in the beauty of what most consider to have none." he said to nobody in particular. Gerome was well known by whoever knew him for being a bit eccentric, so talking to the air was expected of the unexpected. Though, Gerome found that he was talking to the air no longer, as an unknown woman walked up to him and asked for directions. Standing up and dusting himself off, Gerome smiled politely, subtly taking note of her features: lavender skin, violet eyes, pointed ears, and markings meant there was no mistaking her for anything but a Night Elf. Subconsciously tapping the ear covering with his right hand, he quickly disguised it as an absentminded thinking pose by resting his chin on his palm. He, too, was an Elf, but only half of one. He was judged by both humans and elves alike, mainly the ones who rejected the idea of cross-breeding. He could see the judgemental gaze in others, though, even if only for a split second before looking away apologetically. It bothered Gerome a little, the idea that he couldn't be looked at as a normal person because of a singular defining mark. As such, he understood the wary, slightly uncomfortable tone with which the elf spoke. He too had used it once, after all.

"Ah, but why are you searching for arrows when you already have so many?" he quipped, thinking that a little performance could ease the elf's worries. After speaking, he reached behind the elf and poured a little magic into his hand, pulling out a small quarrel of arrows from the elf's previously-empty quiver. Presenting the missiles to the elf with a silly grin, he then slapped his hands together, disintegrating the arrows and reducing them back to the arcane essence used to create them. Turning his grin into an overacted frown, he stared at the pile of smoky-blue ash in his hand and scratched his head, perplexed. "Well, this won't do at all." he complained, before sighing and shrugging. "Oh well.." He let the essence blow into the wind, before dusting his hands off by clapping them together. "You wouldn't have wanted those arrows anyway, they were mighty unstable." Gerome joked, before clearing his throat and ending the short magic show. "I can craft some real arrows for you, if you like. Else I can lead you to the fletcher, if that's what you'd prefer." He finished, pulling out his scepter and spinning it around like a baton before resting it in a neutral grip by his side. It's the least he could do for someone so obviously uncomfortable in the city.
 
Aspen made a face, that caused her brows to come to together and her mouth to form into an uneasy frown. Her ears went back in the way that showed she was hostile, but not intimidated. Lansing growled and took a step towards the man. Raising her hands and forcing a small smile, Aspen muttered, "I appreciate your offer, but I don't think you should be using Arcane in such a manner..." The way the man had used his gift, it seemed he would be similar to a Blood Elf. "It was a neat trick and all, I have to admit," that was not a sheer compliment- Aspen had enjoyed the act and it had actually loosened her up a bit, "but if you could direct me to the fletcher, that would be splendid, yes."

Maybe Aspen had been wrong about the townsfolk? Well, at least the other races weren't as bad as she had fancied. The concept of humans still made her weary, however. This man seemed to be human, howbeit, there was something about him that gave the aura of inhuman. Perhaps a crossbreed? For how infrequent that was, it was very probable. He had the features of human but also those of... an elf? Aspen thought to keep her notions to herself, it would be an awkward conversation to bring up. Aspen quickly looked away and ran her fingers through Lansing's thick, brown fur, scared that the stranger may have noticed Aspen's speculative glare.
 
Gerome quirked a brow at her reaction, then shrugged. "As you wish." he stated, catching a hint of something in her tone that made him curious. Her reaction alone was curious enough, but the way she responded reminded him of someone else. Another who cautioned him against wanton use of his magic: his mother, the elven half of his heritage. She cautioned that if he were to use his magic too carelessly, it would turn him into the mana-addicted Wretched that the Blood Elves fought so hard against. At the time, Gerome hardly knew what his mother was talking about, but as he grew older and learned more of his past and heritage, he knew the dangers of going too far and actively fought against it. The fact that he was half Human significantly decreased his risk at going over the brink and succumbing to the addiction those Wretched suffer. That factored in, however, Gerome didn't think that summoning forth a quiver of arrows was that great a risk. Though, this Night Elf clearly wasn't his mother, and he shouldn't be treating her as such. It just wouldn't be fair to the unwitting newcomer, so he settled for a joking "You sound like my mother." Almost as immediately as he joked, he nodded at her and smiled slightly. "I know very well the risks of overusing the Arcane," his expression faltered slightly, "but thanks for the sentiment anyway." At the compliment, small though it was, his slightly bothered smile turned into a genuine one as he bowed with a bit of a flourish. "I aim to entertain." he said matter-of-factly. "Though, I should cease wasting your time much further; your saber seems impatient." He noted with a small chuckle, turning to lead her to the fletcher. "Off we go, then." He announced, missing her studying gaze completely as he started down the street, looking over his shoulder to make sure she was following.

If it wasn't night time already, by the time Gerome had lead the Night Elf to the fletcher's shop it definitely was. Even so, the hardworking arrow-maker was wide awake, if a little bored-seeming. He kept shop open at night to appeal to the many nocturnal hunters that tended to be around, especially from the Rangers' Lodge. His face visibly brightened at the prospect of one, maybe two customers that night. "I've a customer for you, good sir." Gerome announced with a bow, ushering the Night Elf into the shop to make her purchases.
 
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