"Gah..." Radearle muttered to herself, suddenly unnerved by the loner elf, and went to quietly rouse the others.

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<center>Nothing but the Rain</center>

Maria overheard the noise and quickly shot out of bed and grabbed her dagger

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"Is all that we see or seem in a dream, but a dream?" -Edgar Allen Poe

[: ? # = $ ^ ~ +]


Normal is for Muggles!

(Oops . Thanks for letting me know. I edited it .)

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I'm back!

Rothar appraised the scimitar with a critical eye. He ran his hand down the blade, which seemed to be forged from a strange obsidian he'd never seen before. It seemed to form a cynosure, a vortex that devoured every shadow in the chamber. He attempted a few experimental slashes. For a weapon of its size, its balance was such that it felt comfortably light. Satisfied, he sheathed it.

He'd never been comfortable around portals, but he knew that his opportunistic employer would have it no other way. Bracing himself for the journey, he stepped through -

- and felt his boots contact something soft and not entirely pleasant. With a snarl he assessed his position before glancing down. Pale moonlight shafted in through the partially open stable doors, illuminating the fragrant pile of horse manure beneath his feet. Beyond the stable doors he saw acres of farmland, and beyond that the lights and cooking fires of a humble village.

Sniffing the tell-tale scent of wolf, the terrified horses trumpeted in their stalls, wakening a slumbering stable hand on a hay stack. Eyes widening, the boy opened his mouth to shout for help. The plea never quite left his mouth, for at that instant Rothar produced his gigantic morning star and strode over. Down came the morning star in one fluid motion. Crack went the boy's skull in a splatter of brains.

Insouciantly cleaning off his weapon as if he'd never been interrupted, he replaced the morning star at his belt and turned to Devarion. "Where are we?"

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Cu'scath strode into the chamber, just in time to see Rothar stepping through the portal. He frowned. <i>Not leaving me behind, are we?</i> He quickly stepped through the dark hole, not wanting to be caught partway through when it closed, and found himself standing beside Rothar and Devarion.

"Find him," Ewaviner whispered. Four Shadows drew out their swords and guarded another as it attempted to find the spy.

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I was cured all right.

(whoa, i'm so behind...)

Alythrya was standing behind Cu'scath, almost falling on top of him. "Oh, sorry..." She looked around, confused.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

.....wrong side, Tur . Cu'scath is with the demons. Alythrya would be in the camp.

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Damien found nothing. There were shadows, to be sure, and some of them moved without cause, but there were none with red eyes. None that projected the sense of intense malice that he had felt. There were a few shadows that seemed to think that there might be something worth eating inside the clearing, bathed in the flickering light of the campfire. Damien made sure they did no more than think of it. What he did find, though, were the tracks of Erillyn and Seryl. He grimaced. No doubt they were already surrounded without hope, but he couldn't go to find them and bring them back while the others were still sleeping--there were more moving shadows around than he had disposed of, after all.

He slipped through the trees back towards the camp, making haste without making noise. In the clearing, the others were finally waking up. Damien growled. They should've been ready to leave by now, not that he really had expected them to.

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(oops... scratch that post then! thx mate)

Alythrya walked over to Damien, whom was scowling. "Disappointed?" She whispered. "Are your companions not good enough for you?" Her voice was harsh even though she spoke quietly, so quiet than it was still hard for Damien to here, even though he was right next to her.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

Damien spared only a withering glance for Alythrya as he saddled Blight. Now was not the time for personal arguments. If only he could just leave the others behind. They weren't his people--he shouldn't have to watch out for them and keep them alive.

"To be honest," Damien replied to the female, his raspy voice adding an edge to his words, "I don't think much of you or the rest of our companions at all. The whole lot of you fools would likely have been murdered in your sleep already if I hadn't come back to warn you. And if you don't want to be torn to pieces while you're awake, you should get ready to either fight or run for it."

He finished saddling Blight, a task made more difficult by the fact that he had to put the horse's bardings on, too. He let the reigns hang on the ground, though--Blight was trained well enough to know not to move when the reigns were dragging. Damien might need to mount at any time.

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Alythrya glared at Damien, and then spoke quickly. "These companions that you ride of, including me, may not be as high and noble as you are ascustomed too." She glared. "But one day you will be thankful for us...maybe if you gave us a chance. Besides, your not so useful yourself, if you really think about it." Her dark purple eye glared at Damien, stone cold.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

Damien snorted, making no other audible response to Alythrya as he walked back towards the forest. She might get a shock, if she realized just what sort of companions he was used to--Blight, and the creatures that he hunted and was stalked by in turn. Friends? He had a few, but he didn't see them very often. His people, though--they were the ones that were important. His people he would gladly die for. However, these companions of his were not his people. He certainly didn't intend to die for any of them.

Maybe the female was right, and one day he would be thankful for them. Maybe. At this point, though, it didn't seem likely. So far all they'd done was simply slow him down.

He finally got beyond the flickering light of the campfire, and paused a moment to let his eyes adjust to the darkness. If he went wandering around with unadjusted eyes, he would be as good as dead. Sight was critical in the dark--you couldn't hear a shadow move slightly. You had to see it. Right now, he couldn't see any shadows moving. He couldn't hear anything, either. No sense of malice, no forboding of evil, and no awful stink. For now, at least, they seemed to be okay.

--------

Where is everyone? I think Caunion kind of needs Meldawen and/or Artemis to post, and it would be useful for me if others who were in the camp posted.

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(I have been waiting for Meldawen to post again, and I don't have time to post right now.)

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I'm back!

((Yeah, sorry, I'm here....life's been crazy, I'll have time to post tonight))

EDIT:

Seryl stumbled backwards again, eyes flicking back and forth from one shadow to another. Her sword shook her her hand. "Begone!" she said, her voice trembling slightly, heart in her throat. Again she reached out mentally and found nothing but shadows, frightening abysses of darkness.

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Alythrya shook her head and whispered, "You'll be thankful for us...you'll see." She turned and went to take care of her mare.

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Just became a college freshman; be on sparingly

Rothar glared at the Demon's chosen horse. Perhaps it was the wolf in him, but years ago he'd decided adamantly that he didn't like horses. And from the way the roan bridled and danced away from him, it seemed the sentiment was mutual.

He flicked another glare at Devarion for good measure, then turned his gaze towards the village a small distance off, his gold-tinged eyes glowing strangely in the darkness. His heritage would pose no problem - he'd wandered among the humanoid races and knew well how to disguise himself. With his nondescript cloak swept over his seven-foot frame, he could pass for any human giant.

He turned back to bare his fangs in a perfectly sadistic grin. "Fish if available, horses if I'm starved. I prefer manflesh." He chuckled slightly before continuing, "Blatantly moving against the Ten would not be a wise move. The position at best advantage to strike is always the position of trust."

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