NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: This is completely open, there is only one necessary part, I need someone to take control of the people who appear at the end of the piece. Ohj and in case your wondering, this takes place in Christ Own Legions, but I can't get on as that account at the moment.


The people of the Tilwoki tribe had never seen a white man, nor had they ever seen a black man, or any man that wasn’t a member of there tribe. They had no word for stranger or for enemy because they had never been those words. For thousands of years they’d been sealed off from the outside world, protected by Jungle and rivers. You could say that they where a ferial, wild people, little more than savages with untamed hair and primitive weapons.

To call them savage would be wrong of course, they may not wear clothes, and use knifes and forks but they had a strange sense of honor and religion, they didn’t kill people or destroy the environment like some people.

Yet within 5 minutes that’s all going to change…


Deep in the jungle of Christs Own Legion

The boys name was Tincalic, but we’ll just call him Tin for now. He was crawling over the deep undergrowth of the jungle floor on his belly keeping his breath quiet and shallow, his skin covered in paints the Shaman had made to hide him from his enemy.

In his left hand he gripped a spear, in his right a bow and a quiver of arrows was thrown over his back. He was sweating with excitement, ahead of him lay a Puma asleep. He had spotted it a hour ago, and had trailed it since the, abandoning his hunt for food. The honor would be his if he could kill the beast and take it’s corpse back to the village. No one in the village had ever killed a puma, at least no one alive, and the feats of those who had, long dead now, where ingrained in myth. If he killed it then the Shaman would sing the Ballard of Tincalic and the Puma.

He crept ever closer, before finally darting into the cover of a bush. The Puma didn’t stir as he pulled out his bow and knocked his best arrow. He took careful aim, light wind from right to left, he adjusted his aim carefully and then it was perfect.

He let the string go and watched as the arrow went unerringly towards the beasts throat, then a breath of wind caught it and it sailed slightly to the left, missing the throat and embedding itself in the beasts neck. The big cat roared and rose it it’s feet in pain, trying to bite the barb that had pieced it’s skin. It finally managed to rip the stick off, leaving the head in it’s fur.

Tin knocked another arrow and let fly, this one his the beast in the neck again. It roared and charged towards him, covering the ground remarkably quickly. Tin crouched and readied the spear and the beast leapt into the bush, straight onto the spear end, running itself through on the blade through the sheer force of it’s jump. Tin knew that if the cat had hit him, he’d be dead, killed by the sheer force of the blow.

The creature was dying now, it’s cheats heaving and blood spurting from the mortal wound. It lashed out at Tin, slashing open his chest and leaving 4 claw marks that would eventually turn to scars. He’d been lucky that the Puma had been weakened, if it had been at full strength that blow would have cut him in two. Still he yelled at the searing pain and leapt back, blood spilling down his naked body.

“Bastard!” he roared at the beast and the beast roared back, desperately trying to reach him, it’s life’s blood pooling around the ground as it crawled forwards. Tin kept stepping back, knowing that he just had to stay out of the beasts was as it became weaker and weaker and slower and slower. Finally it stopped, shuddered and died, a trail of blood marking it’s long, slow, agonizing crawl towards it’s killer. Blood mattered it’s fur and the spear kept it’s head upright, it still looked proud and dangerous even in death. At first Tin was afraid to approach it, fearing that it would spring back to life and kill him.

Finally he summoned the courage to approach it once more, marveling at it’s sleek and graceful body, how to get it home was the question. He felt light headed from the loss of blood and when he tried to drag the thing it simply proved to heavy even to move an inch. Wondering what to do no he decided not to take the body with him but to simply bring the animals head, to show his achievement. If the Shaman wanted the body they would return to bring it back.

How to cut the head off was another problem. Arrowheads where too mall while his spearhead was buried deep inside the Pumas innards. He heaved at the spear shaft but only succeeded in breaking it off He had no choice now. He crawled towards the thing and pushed it onto its side, the spears entry point clearly visible. He closed his eyes and reached into the hole, his hands imminently drenched with gore. He took a firm grip on the remaining shaft and heaved on it, the suction of the flesh giving strong resistance to his efforts, finally with a squelch the flesh gave and the spearhead and shaft came out with a flood of fresh blood which poured over Tin.

Blood splattered he now reached for the head and slowly cut at it, using the razor sharp spearhead like a knife, it took him nearly an hour but finally his could pull the head away from the body. It was surprisingly heavy, and exhausted he hauled it away from the body, carrying it upside down with both hands.

Then he heard noises coming from beyond the next club of undergrowth, the sound of heavy voices, human voices, and the clump of boots. Strangely those these people where speaking with weird words and pronunciation.

Tin crept towards the undergrowth and stared. They where men traveling in single file, cleaving through the undergrowth with long curved knives, pistols in there pockets. They had skin of different colors as well, some with black skin, some with white skin, only a few had the light brown skin of Tin and his people. They had strange colored hair as well, some with white and red hair, though many had the same brown hair as the tribe.

They wore strange things over there bodies, not like the cloak the Shaman wore but full body things that covered everything, there legs, there cheats, they even wore things on there heads. They each had large packs on there backs, and some where quite young, though the man at the front was old.

One of the few girls spoke to the man at the front now, “I’m sure that we should have arrived by now? It should have only been a 10 day trek. We’ve been out here for ages…” Tin ignored her words and counted the people, there where 12 of them, that was almost half the tribes numbers. Tin turned to run back to the village, the elders needed to know about this, this was something strange, something new. Keeping careful hold of the Pumas head Tin tried to move slowly and carefully away, then he saw it before him, a large snake, a deadly snake.

It curled towards him, sensing the blood from his wounds and the Puma. Tin was trapped he couldn’t go forwards and he couldn’t go back. He carefully backed off, looking for something to hit the snake with, to drive it away. HE couldn’t go much further, once he was through this bush he would be in the midst of the people.

The decision was made for him as he tripped over a upturned tree root and fell backwards, crying out as his ankle snapped. The Puma head flew away from him and he tumbled through the undergrowth into the middle of the peoples column.

OOC: Right as I said, I need someone to take control of the people. If anyone else wants to join just TG me with your idea for a character(s) and I’ll see if it’s workable.

BUMp: Anyone going to join?

Sarlya glanced over at Dureena as they moved through the jungle. Sarlya was dressed in a short leather skirt that ended just above the halfway point of her thighs and a leather brasier like top. The skirt had a split up the front and back for riding, though the horses were presently being led since the jungle was too thick to ride through. Her leather sandels that cross strapped up to her knee were comfortable to wear, except that for now they offered little protection in the dense foliage. On her left arm was a bracer and on her right hand was a leather glove with only a middle and forefinger for her bow. The arcane archeress was uncomfortable and mumbled about it regularly in elven, since Dureena didn't understand any other language. Sarlya was a well built woman, more than capable of catching a man's eye, or the occasional woman, either of which she would take. Her half elven heritage augmented her beauty, though it didn't given her the seemingly ethereal beauty of her full blooded elven companion. She complain in elven only to let Dureena hear her, though she was a master in several languages. She glanced again at her companion, feeling hotter just by looking at the woman.

Dureena wore full banded armor and a helm, a sheild on her left arm. In her right hand were the reigns of her horse. Hanging on her belt was a mace on her right hip and a longsword on her left. The holy knight was uncomfortable, to say the least, but refused to acknowledge the fact. On the breast of her armor was a hand glowing with power and on her sheild, her personal crest, an open hand blocking a sword. The helm covered her face and kept most of her golden hair from being seen, though an occasional strand poke out here and there. She knew that Sarly was upset but couldn't do anything about it. They were both lost and far from home, but hopefully far from the men who hunted them. She looked back toward the dark brown haired woman and nodded in acknowledgement of her latest complaint then returned her own bright blue, almost crystal blue, eyes back forward.

They heard a roar and a man yelling and Dureena, per her natural instincts to help, moved them toward the source of the comotion. She had barely caught a glimpse of the young man, who seemed to be backing away, afraid of something, yet looking behind him as though something there frightened him as well. She moved forward carefully until he fell and she tried to move quickly forward, the dense jungle blocking quick progress. Suddenly something clanged against her armor and she looked down at the venemous snake who found that he couldn't penetrate her armor. She reached down as Sarlya came up beside her, the snake unable to penetrate her metal gauntlet and picked the snake up, tossing it aside so it couldn't bite Sarlya, who had no such protection.

"Scout ahead", she muttered low in elven, "the young man seemed afraid of something ahead as well as the snake."

Sarlya handed the reigns of her horse to Dureena and, staying low, moved forward. After a short distance Dureena began to follow, until Sarlya held up a hand and made a fist, indicating that Dureena should stop. Sarlya was a natural born sorceress, though limited in power as she was so young, at least for a half-elf. Most of her power was in her ability with the bow, but she was also trained in the ways of the ranger. She spied the column of figures, unsure what to make of thier odd gear and saw the young man who had fallen among them. A quick visual told her that his ankle didn't look good but she dared not call Dureena, who could heal him, forward just yet since she wasn't sure how the column of men would react to any of their presences and watched to see what would happen next, hidden among the foliage. She knew that she could take down two of them easily. Her arcane powers would allow one arrow to track it's target, moving around obsticles, the second would phase through any obsticles until she hit her target. Beyond that she would need a clear line of sight, even with her expertise with the bow, and that was difficult in this dense jungle. So she watched and waited, checking to make sure her arrows were easily accessable. Aside form the bow in her hand she had a quiver on each hip and two on her back. She also had an elven slim sword on her right hip, more like a rapier than a longsword. She glanced back to make sure that Dureena was staying where she was at, if she moved any closer then her gleaming armor would easily be seen.

A small yelp caught the attention of the party, consisting of eight men, three women, and of all things, an Argonian. The oldest human, a well-traveled Englishman calling himself Lord Byron Canterbury. With steel-gray hair covered by a pith helmet and wearing khaki like most of the group. Lord C, as he preferred to me known, had a small handlebar mustache and a foggy monocle over his left eye.

The Englishman hacked through the brush with a well-worn machete, like the Argonian next to him, only the lizard-man's was somewhat shorter and had a much better edge. Another noteworthy member of the group was an American named Josh Baxter. The man seemed content to walk about photographing everything the group came up on and found the entire expeirence to be terribly interesting. A Makarov sat in a finely-tooled leather holster on his left hip.

The Argonian, referred to as Tyrik by the human members of the party, carried a finely-crafted nine-milimeter, a Beretta M92 in stainless steel under his left shoulder, and a matte-black M16A4 with a Trijicon ACOG combat optic on the top rail. His gear reflected a practical attitude, consisting of olive fatigues matched with a darker vest. It was far too humid & hot for a flak jacket, so the vest was more of a utility item. A short knife hung upside-down on his left side, above the pistol for easy access. Light Battle Equipment (LBE) that looked like the sort the US Army had used since Vietnam handled the ammunition the Argonian carried, seven magazines of thirty total. His pack was smaller and lighter than the others, with fewer comforts. His homeland was very similar to the jungles he was now tracking in. The sleeves of his fatigues were rolled up to the biceps, displaying powerful arms capable of tearing a man open with his clawed fingers.

Lord C carried a nice Weatherby Sporting Magnum, .300 Winchester Magnum chambered and sporting an extremely expensive low-light scope. A top-break Webley revolver hung at his side, chambered for the common .38 caliber.

One of the females was apparently a doctor of something, from Tyrik's observations, but knew something about hiking. Her pack was well-fitting, not too large. Her belt contained an extra canteen as well as a vintage Belgian Browning Hi-Power. Her glasses had fogged some time ago, and she had let them hang around her neck from a lanyard. He'd heard her referred to as 'Doctor Aggie'.

The one other human worth mentioning was Mohammed Abu Zakar, an African with skin as dark as Tyrik's scales were green. His large head was bald and shiny, his teeth large and white. Like Tyrik, he was also in extremely good physical condition. Apparently he'd been a soldier in his nation, Tyrik had been as well, with the Argonian National Army's infantry. Mohammed wore a short-sleeved black T-shirt instead of the usual khaki top. He held an AK-47 in his large hands, a weapon very familiar to him.

Lord C halted, and the others did the same...

"Ah Tyrik my good chap... Scamper on up there an have a peek, will you?"

The Argonian tracker adjusted the boonie hat that rode between his fin-like ears and nodded in agreement. The Argonian's feet were wide, three-toed, and flat, making no noise as he crept forward. He'd opted to leave the boots he'd kept from his military career in the vehicle, since jungle situations often called for stealth and bare feet made no noise on the soft soil.

What he saw confused him, to put it in words: A young native boy was lying on the ground between two women, one in impossibly hot medievil armor, the other in some sort of leather dominatrix outfit that, while odd, was at least suited for the humidity and heat. Tyrik's foot stepped in something warm and wet... Blood. From the severed head of some large cat. It appeared the boy had killed the beast and taken the head as a trophy, but had been alarmed by their approach. It wasn't surprising, considering his appearance. The sleek lines of his reptilian body gave him the look of some demon water-lizard. This could be partly considered truth, since he swam quite well.

Tyrik gave the signal for the group to stay back while he observed the situation...

OOC: Looks like someone beat me to the punch while I typed my lengthy post.

Suddenly Rachel Stevens appeared and realised that the culture of the tribe meant she had to be naked, so she stripped off. It was fun.

"Scout ahead", she muttered low in elven, "the young man seemed afraid of something ahead as well as the snake."

Sarlya handed the reigns of her horse to Dureena and, staying low, moved forward. After a short distance Dureena began to follow, until Sarlya held up a hand and made a fist, indicating that Dureena should stop. Sarlya was a natural born sorceress, though limited in power as she was so young, at least for a half-elf. Most of her power was in her ability with the bow, but she was also trained in the ways of the ranger. She spied the column of figures, unsure what to make of thier odd gear and saw the young man who had fallen among them. A quick visual told her that his ankle didn't look good but she dared not call Dureena, who could heal him, forward just yet since she wasn't sure how the column of men would react to any of their presences and watched to see what would happen next, hidden among the foliage. She knew that she could take down two of them easily. Her arcane powers would allow one arrow to track it's target, moving around obsticles, the second would phase through any obsticles until she hit her target. Beyond that she would need a clear line of sight, even with her expertise with the bow, and that was difficult in this dense jungle. So she watched and waited, checking to make sure her arrows were easily accessable. Aside form the bow in her hand she had a quiver on each hip and two on her back. She also had an elven slim sword on her right hip, more like a rapier than a longsword. She glanced back to make sure that Dureena was staying where she was at, if she moved any closer then her gleaming armor would easily be seen.
OOC:Fromt this I gathered that they are watching 'the people' (IE::The Old man and his colleguies. IF anyone want too take contol of them (The old man and his mates) You can.

tag

OOC: Tins on the ground being 'treated,' The two elves are watching them but the old man thinks he's spotted somthing and is going off to attack it.

OOC: My original intent was to take control of the original group as the host had suggested, but I believe he posted a continuation before I could post my lengthy reply.

I leave the decision to the host as to whether he wishes to contine as the original party or if I should do so. If he decides the former, I'll simply replace the post with something more agreeable.

OOC:Fromt this I gathered that they are watching 'the people' (IE::The Old man and his colleguies. IF anyone want too take contol of them (The old man and his mates) You can.

OOC: My original intent, but you seem to have posted before I did. In doing so, I think we've confused everyone here.

OOC: My original intent was to take control of the original group as the host had suggested, but I believe he posted a continuation before I could post my lengthy reply.

I leave the decision to the host as to whether he wishes to contine as the original party or if I should do so. If he decides the former, I'll simply replace the post with something more agreeable.
OOC: You can take over, I'll DEAT my peice.

Tin stared up at the two women towering over him, they had pale skin of a type that he had never seen before. Looking away from them he notice the head of one of the strange things that he had seen earlyer, straing at them. He gave a cry of alarm and attempted to haul himself away but his ancle prevented him from doing so.

Pain flooded his brain and he gradually passed out, unable to worry about these strange people. Maybe though, he'd managed to tell them about the monster that was so close.

(Before the Argonian moves forward...)
Sarlya waited a moment, scanning the area. Seeing nothing she waved Dureena forward and pointed toward the wounded boy. Dureena gasped and moved forward, handing the reigns of both horses to Sarlya.

(Argonian can have moved forward at this point...)
She noted the broken ankle and then rolled the boy over gently. Seeing the wounds on his chest she removed her helm and gauntlets then lowered the underchain and padding revealing an ethereal beauty with golden hair. Not a deep rich blonde typically attributed to golden but hair like spun gold. She set aside the gear she removed and quickly stood, moved to her horse and took out a waterproofed leather satchel from her saddle bag. She then return to the boys side and opened it.

(Tin cries in alarm and tries to move away...)
The woman in armor says something in beautifully flowing, musical language and the other woman moves forward.

"Hold ye no fear upon you, we mean not harm", she tells the boy in old form of common.

Once Tin passes out the golden haired women sets the satchel aside. Dureena realizes that normal medical care may not be enough. She reaches down, straightening the ankle, glad now that he's unconscious. Once it's in proper alignment and she's felt to make sure the bones are set right she places one hand on the boys head and one on his heart. She bows her head, her shoulder length hair glinting in the sunlight as it slides forward and utters something in her strange language. As the Argonian watches he can see the wounds on the boys chest seal up and heal before his eyes, not even leaving a scar.

OOC: It works well.

Tyrik growled softly...

'Elves... At least they seem friendly... What in the hell are they doing here? In full plate no less...'

The Argonian tracker was in the process of pondering this issue when Lord C piped in...

"Tyrik? Do you see anything? Mohammed my good Muslim, would you do the honors of checking on Mr. Tyrik?"

The large man angled his shiny head towards the Englishman...

"He's a big boy. Able to take care of himself..."

His voice was thick with an African accent, but held no hint of fear. If Tyrik was incapable of handling something, he doubted he'd fare much better...

Sarlya glanced around, her sharp ears detecting some sort of sound. She removed an arrow and knocked it in the rune carved bow as she peered about her. Dureena stood, glanced around and spoke to Sarlya in elven. The inflection seemed to indicate and interogative and the archeress looked back at her companion and shrugged. Dureena then said something again and Sarlya left the trail, returning after a few moments. They got Tin up onto one of the horses and then Sarlya led Dureena away from the sight after the she retrieved and replaced the rest of her armor. They stopped some distance off the trail under a canopy of leaves and gently placed Tin on the ground, making him comfortable. They then proceeded to have a brief conversation before the archeress took out a blanket to lay on the ground and lay down, aparently drifting off to sleep while her companion kept watch.

Tin bagan to awake, he was still on the jungle floor, lying on his back though he'd fallen on his font, he opened his eyes slowly and looked down, his cheast and body was clean and bloodless, there wern't even scars!

He heard breathing next to him and looked round, one of the strange women with the weird skin was lying next to him on some sort of cloth. He turned his head again to see the other woman with her back to him, perhapse he could sneak away.

As quietly as he could, making almost no sound at all, he slowly began to creep away, a centermeter at a time.

Though Dureena was on watch it was the quick eared archeress who heard the movement and popped an eye open.

She sat up, saying something in a beautiful, musical language to the other woman who turned toward them. She removed her helm, not sure if the young man had seen anything like the banded mail armor she wore, and lowered the protective chain and padding beneath. Golden hair tumbled from underneath and her blue eyes locked onto his. She smiled and held up one hand, not moving toward him, the other holding her helm. She spoke in a gentle tone with same language the woman had used.

The archeress remained sitting, not moving toward Tin, "Dureena has worries. She wishes to know how you feel. Are you being better than before?"

T9in saw the two gett up and move, one of them letting her goldern hair down, a act that only scared Tin more as he had never seen a hat, nor goldern hair before, to him it was like her removing part of her skull. he coninued to back away as the two spoke and then the first one held up a hand, he eyes locked on his.

She spoke again, this time in a language vaugly like his own. He reconsied one or two words maybe but ignored it, judging that it must just be a hullucination in his own mind. Thinking that he was far enough away to be safe from evil magic he turned and ran.

OOC: Weee, W.A. long time since we've interacted.

Tabitha sat in the shadow of some large hardwood that had grown up along the side of the cliff for the past few centuries. She leaned her tall gangly frame against the rough bark as she gazed across the small valley below her. She shifted her canteen and annoyance grew on her face. It was light, too light for comfort.

She shifted on her heavy boots to eye the young man who was sitting on a log a few meters distant. The brown haired youth seemed oblivious to the heat and danger of the jungle around him. His blue eyes were locked onto the computer screen as he vigorously typed away.

"We need water…" Tabitha said in the crisp, short syllables of her hubarian highlands accent.

"Hmm, quite…" he answered in a distracted voice, his mellower tones of dutch and british ancestry denoted he was an Alconian.

"Could I have the binoculars….please?" Tabitha forced the last part out of her narrow mouth almost chocking on the words.
Like being stuck with a snot nosed newbie louie on a hot LZ popped into her head.

Walter could feel the icy stare of the sargent's green eyes on the back of his neck. Now what, oh yes she wants the binoculars... he recalled as his mind pulled out of trying to get the latest sat data into some readable format.

Walter turned to look at the woman leaning against the tree. He picked up the binoculars off her pack and tossed them to her. His eyes, behind their massive coke bottle glasses, met her cool gaze evenly. A momentary tug of war between them. Walter, rather than attempt some form of mental karate began to take in the sarge as a whole.

She appeared unremarkable in her kaki dress, except for her eyes. Somehow Walter was sure they had made many men ignore the flat chest, large nose, and slightly too bushy eyebrows below the crop of dark brown hair.

Tabitha held the gaze for a moment, but then started to shift back towards the valley. Some small, almost unheard sound made her stop. She rotated her head back towards the opening cut through the brush into this clearing. A moment later, a tall shapely figure in kaki and grey stepped silently into the clearing, like some human gazelle.

The tall blond paused as she let her light blue eyes search the space. She held an automatic rifle low in her hands and at the ready.

She ignored the hungry, lustful gaze of the sergeant and looked down at the youth. "Hey hun, you were right, nothing more than some arbitrarily thrown together rocks."

"Quite, well…" Walter replied.

Tabitha turned away from the scene as Lady Temperance Vouge sat down next to Walter and placed her beautiful, god sculpted chin upon the shoulder of the dumpy youth to look at the screen with him.

I bet if my family were the Styrofoam kings of the Klatch, I could get her to…

Tabitha stopped the train of jelous thought right then and there. She had been hired to be a guide for these pair of mating archeologists, not get in her pants.

Hell, Temperance Vouge was the worst kind of gold digger known; one with a pedigree. Although she did wonder how Walter Vanapston convinced her to trek out here looking for some unknown lost civilization. Unless she was trying to do him in? Nah, gold digging black widows have to marry their victims before killing them off. And although a blond, Temperance wasn't dumb enough to get it backwards.

The retired sergeant shook her head for a second to clear irrelivent thoughts from her head. She pushed back into a corner of her mind all the various reasons for this trip, beyond its stated purpose. She raised the binoculars to her eyes and looked across the valley for signs of running water.

A glint of light off something metallic caught her eye.

huh? there shouldn't be any settlement out here. nothing, just a vast sea of green, lets see if the IR picks anything up…

"Bloody F*ck…" Tabitha swore out loud, "we've got what five six humans and a couple of horses…and what looks like something standing upright with a significant tail in the valley below us almost 3/4 of a click away…and one of the humans appears to be running away from the others…"

Sarlya watched the boy for a minute before looking at Dureena who stood up and put her helm and gauntlets back on. "Let him go, this seems to be his home", she said in elven, her only language.

"We should follow him", Sarlya responded.

"I don't want to frighten him. He'll be alright, his wounds are healed."

"Yeah", the archeress replied, "but we're lost and as you pointed out, this seems to be his home. He may be able to lead us somewhere that we can get directions." 'And a nice soft bed and a warm companion of one gender or the other', she thought to herself.

"Alright", Dureena replied after a moment, "stay close enough to be of assistance should he need it, but far enough away that he won't detect us."

Sarlya nodded and waited for about thirty minutes, took her rune carved bow in hand and then set out. Verlinda had been an expert in woodlore, among other things, and taught her everything she knew. She began to move forward, tracking the boy with ease as Dureena took the horses reigns and led followed.

Seeing that the strange people didn't follow Tin stopped and took his barings, Highhead rock was abiout 30 meters distant, to the east, which meant the village was to the south. He couled here water so that meant that the stream was nearby. He was thirsty and he need substence.

HHe made for the sound of the river and drank the liquid deeply enjoying it as it refreshed his parched mouth. The water felt nice running down his throat. That'd keep him going until he could get home, his familly would feed him then.

He followed the river upstream, crossing it via a concealed rope that he swung over a pole set into the banking on the other side of the river. The rope lead directly into the village situated on an island in the middle of the fast flowing river-almost impossable to get too without aid.

He could see the smoke from the cooking fires and passed between the graves of the aincents that watched over his tribe. The much worn path, tread flat by thousands of feet over thousands of years, opened out onto a clearing in the trees, in the center of the clearing a hall stood.

It was a aincent buiklding, built many, many years ago and periodically sections collapsed and where remaid. The where three entrences, one for me, one of children and one for women. Tin made for the Mens entrence having come of age just a few weeks ago. Small children, hard at work in the gardens that where in the middle of the clearing, ran up to see him. Hiwang, the stone worker gave him a wave and frowned at his back of a spear. He called out a question but Tin ignored it, answering with one of his own. "Wheres the elder?"

"Inside." Tin nodded and caried on, making his way into the walm smoky interior of the hall. Living areas where off the eather side. The men who ahd gone out to hunt today sat on logs in the centeral section, talking. Tin spotted the Eldar deep in conversation with Yang, his daughter.

The old man noticed Tin enter and stood to greet him, "Tincalic, you have long been away but now you return. Where have you been for I see many adventures about you." Tin carried on walking towards the old man, stopping and bowing several times.

"Aincent one, I have seen many things but there is a grave threat to us for other people I have seen." The men looked up at this and a murmer ran through them.

"Other people, there are no other people in Yrigy (The world) not for many years."

"There are now, most revired one, for I have seen them myself. They are dangerious and strange looking." THe elder had thought Tin was lying, trying to make escuses for his absence, but he saw no lie in the boys eyes.

"Indeed, I see you tell the truth. Yanimtot, Kilak, set a guard upon the crossing." The two men ran off, stopping only to collect there weapons and then the Elder beckoned Tin over to him.

"Now, young Tincalic tell me what you have seen?"

Tabitha had decided that she didn't want to know what was going on down in the valley.

Likely a drug deal or something She watched the small group seperate, the horses following after the runner a good distance.

I wonder if he is a scout or something? she pondered for a moment before the conversation behind her registered.

"So the next set of high density shapes are where?" Temperance asked in a quiet voice, playing with Walter's hair with one hand while the other held onto the rifle in her lap.

"Well you see this green/bluish line is a major creek or river. There appears to be an island here and there are some intresting density readings on it."

"More promising that those up here?"

"Yes, Mar...quite a bit more promising based on the most recent pass."

Tabitha stared at them both blankly for a moment. "There are people down in that valley..." she began.

"Quite, Sargent but then we don't know what they are doing..." Temerance answered. She shifted so as to keep her head on Walter's shoulder but have one pale blue eye looking back at the other woman.

"That is dangerous, not knowing..." Tabitha began.

"No, we can't know everything...." the younger woman cut her off. "This isn't the Royal Marines, we don't have air support and enough fire power at hand to destroy most third world nations in a blink of an eye."

"Listen I was hired to keep you two safe..." Tabitha began to explain, "I am not going to let you two start risking your lives..."

"Life is Risk, Sargent." Temperance stood, one hand wrapped around the rifle, the other on Walter's head. "And you are here to protect us...within reason..." The pale blue eyes locked with the green ones for a moment.

"So we are going to try and keep out of their way..." Temperance nodded towards the valley, "and be careful. But I'm not staying up on this rock top just because there is some people and an odd humanoid down there."

Walter finally spoke up, "Quite right Mar, quite right..." he turned and picked up the laptop, closing it as he did so. "Shall we get moving? I'd like to set up camp somewhere...less visible...don't you think sargent?"

Tabitha turned from the gaze of the noblewoman for a moment and said "Yes..." trying to keep a surley tone in check. Well, we need water... She turned back to look at Temperance again.

Temperance looked down at the other woman, God woman, when will you get the hint? I am not about to go muff diving with you... passed through her head as she picked up her pack.

Tyrik returned to the group after the elves departed with their prize...

"A pair of elves and a native boy. Probably slavers looking for easy pickings..."

Admittedly, Tyrik had a great deal of prejudice against the elven race. Dark Elves had raided the marshes of his homeland for centuries to fuel their booming agricultural buisnesses with cheap labor. While he'd never been a slave, Tyrik had fought slaver parties on numerous occasions during his time with the national army. Those skirmishes were particularly intense, often devolving to bloody melee battles fought literally with tooth and claw, rocks and limbs, empty magazines, helmets, e-tools, rifle-butts, knives, empty handguns, whatever blunt or bladed objects where accessible...

"We should steer clear, and possibly find the local village to inform them of the boy's fate. Mohammed and I will move to find the slavers... I would suggest Lord C, with his infinite knowledge of tracking and traveling, would take the good doctor and locate the village. I'd also keep a hand near your weapons. No telling what we'll encounter..."

Mohammed racked the bolt on his AK in response. He would be ready. The CZ75 in the rear waistband of his pants was always locked and loaded. Tyrik's Beretta remained in the same state, with a round always in the chamber...

"Ah very good my good lizard-chap... The doctor and I will most certainly locate the savages' encampment..."

The Englishman started off towards the direction Tyrik had just come from, swinging his machete in great arcs in front of him, the female doctor following at a distance...

"We move this way..."

Tyrik spoke lowly to Mohammed, trying to keep a lower profile than the outgoing Brit they had been travelling with. Mohammed followed without a word, keeping low behind his Argonian squadmate...

Sarlya moved back toward Dee. "He took a swing to the island over there. I see smoke, probably from some small fires, hearths or cooking fires is my guess."

Dureena smiled as she looked out toward the river. "Good", she said, "he's home. He'll be safe now."

Sarlya sighed, "Yeah, and that's great and all but we're still lost."

"The gods will guide us", Dureena replied.

Sarlya had spent a great deal of time in dive taverns, dancing and stripping and sometimes sleeping with the occasional man or woman for money to stay somewhere and away from the parents who used her as a tool in thier own bizaar power struggle. She didn't hold to much stock in the what gods will or will not do. "Okay well let me look around and see if I can find a way across or see if someone comes to us."

Dureena waited a moment and then nodded. "We can rest till tomorrow morning, we can use a break. If nothing comes up before then we'll move on."

Sarlya nodded and began searching the river bank to see if she could find a way across.

While the two elves talked, the two men ordered by the elder to guard the river banks watched. They didn't speak, only communicating in the hadn movments of the hunter. Both had small bows and arrows, that could shoot 60 or 70 yards-not far but far enough if the elves came further down the riverbank.

The hunters waited, ready to fire.

Temperance pulled her face from the water and threw her blond hair back. She sifted on the rock and jumped back to the shore with the water pack across her chest.

"You really shouldn't be drinking that water without purifying it first...." the green eyed, former marine stated coolly.

Temperence allowed one end of her mouth to slightly rise in a wry smile, "Your right of course...tell me what do you think those people were up to?" She nodded her head back downstream.

"Drug deal most likely, or perhaps illicit gems..." Tabitha answered, ignoring the eyes of the woman standing up behind her. She just continued to sharpen the machette she was carrying; the local vines seemed to dull them quite well.

"And why do you say that?" Temperance turned and looked across the river, based on how things lay the group, or groups now, would be on the other side from them. Well, unless they found a ford somewhere and crossed.

"The two most common activities in a jungle between civilized people are those..."

Walter interupted, "No those are the two most common activities within the Kandi. He looked up from the map and began to explain, "The Kandi is quite known for tropical plants that produce intresting, semi-toxic effects and of course massive coca plants. It's also a volcanic region with several mines, and a few gem mines also."

Tabitha turned to Walter, "You know when I want the opinion of a damn Milita Officer..."

"Two years, IIS, Tactical Sat Anaylisis...." He said it in quiet tones, like a doctor telling a patient that they were not going to ever be leaving their present bed alive again. Tabitha just blinked, she hadn't known she was ferrying around a god damn IIS weeinie.

"Now then, in the Gonadad, the trade was primarily drugs, gems, and guns, and all sorts of clandistine activities with the Dyellians about."

"That was before the Gonadad War right?" Temperance asked. She had been seriously considering going on an expedition into the new National Park to investigate the early elven culture of the Klatch.

"Who knows now what is going on there...or here. The problem with the resolution on those IR is that it can't tell you much more than warmblooded horse, humanoid, humanoid with tail, not what they are carrying, saying, or really doing."

Tabitah seemed to be scowling, as though she wanted to throw the know-it-all into the river and let the blond fish him out. She never liked IIS, or officers that much.

Temperance decided to divert the conversation, "I thought we were going to set up camp up-river?"

"Yes, there is some nice high ground just down river from the island." Walter added as he stood up, putting the map away into his backpack.

"Quite...get saddled up...this jungle is getting thicker who knows how long it will take us to get there..." Tabitha added.

Sarlya had begun her sweep as Verlinda had taught her and what she learned worried her. She returned to Dee, who was watering the horses.

"The animals say that there's others in the jungle, a number of them. There's two natives on the island shore as well, I don't think they're bows can reach us. I could take them out..."

"No, we're not here to harm anyone."

"No, we're running for our lives for turning up more in our investigation than anyone suspected and not even your church or the authorities could harbor us safely. Who knows how close they are, I'm for finding out where we are and facing them, I'm tired of running, Dee."

Dureena smiled at Sarlya, "I know you are. But think about what your saying. Do you really think that we can take on the Zentarim and the Iron Rose orginazation?"

Sarlya knew that her power was growing, but she had to experiment since she didn't have a proper arcane archer to learn from. She could also tell that Dureena's power was growing and wondered if the Holy Knight, no, Holy Avenger now, even realized her potential. But she also knew that Dee was right, a rarity in the Holy woman's case. Dee was an excellent warrior and gentle soul, perfect for her calling, but she wasn't exactly the brightest of the flock. In this case, however, she had a point and Sarlya nodded in acquisance.

"The others?"

"Three on the far bank, two following us from a larger group that's moving toward the island."

Dureena frowned. Could the natives be in danger? If so it was her duty to protect them, regardless of how they might feel toward her. On the other hand, perhaps they were native to this area as well. "Recommendations?"

Sarlya considered the situation. "They know where we are, we know where they are. They aren't aware that we know. Unless they act against us then I recommend we continue as we have until we have need to do otherwise."

"And the guards across the river?"

"Unless I take them out we can't hope to cross. My bow can reach them with distance to spare."

Dureena immediatly shook her head at that. "I won't take lives uselessly. We'll set camp, I'll set up the wyvern watches and we'll both rest. The watches will alert us should anyone enter and attack those who do. Chances are, if they're native, that they won't have the magical weapons needed to hit the watches and they'll only be knocked unconscious, not killed. Let them think we're still unaware of thier presence."

Sarlya sighed, but nodded and proceeded to tend to her horse and Dureena saw to hers, then they set up camp.

"I'll go hunt us up something to cook", Sarlya said and Dureena nodded as she incanted a prayer, filling several flasks with fresh water.

Lord C and the good doctor continued towards the sound of rushing water, since most natives established their villages on the banks of rivers to have access to a limitless supply of life-giving water. If the encampment was on an island, they'd need Tyrik to swim across and recon the area.

The aforementioned Argonian and his companion had followed what little tracks the elves had left, and finally gave up on the search, moving off in the direction Lord C had gone. Tyrik was able to track him fairly easily, his canine-like olfactory abilities picked up the strong cologne the Brit favored quite easily...

"We've lost them, Lord C... Why the hell are you staring at the river?"

The Englishman answered, but with more of a question than a real response...

"Why are you carrying around the head of a jungle cat?"

Tyrik's response was simple. There had been such rituals in his homeland before the modernization movement, and understood their relevance in tribal society...

"The boy must have dropped it, some sort of ritual killing their kind must do. Puma's aren't easy prey, for humans or Argonians, especially with spears. He deserves his kill..."

The female next to the English Lord was staring off into the distance with a pair of Lord C's binoculars...

"There's a village on an island that way..."

She pointed off into the distance, squinting through her glasses...

"Where?"

Tyrik had appeared at her side, squinting alongside her & following her finger off into the distance...

"Hold this..."

The Argonian handed the woman his M16A4 before diving into the river. His Beretta wouldn't rust any where near as quickly with its stainless steel finish as the bolt system on his M16 would. The swift current felt good against his body, water coursing across the sleek contours of his frame. Within a few minutes he had reached the island's banks, popping his head above the river's surface to survey the area...

Two natives, carrying bows with knocked arrows. He turned briefly to look at his companions, and caught the glimmer of Lord C's scope in the distance. The Englishman was covering his approach with the threat of high-powered rifle fire. The Argonian dipped back below the surface of the water, propelling himself towards the opposite end of the island to look for a less visible place to make his landing...

Yanimtot, Kilak looked over to where he'd heard a splash. "Did you see that?"

"what?" His partner replied,

"I heard a splash from over there."

"It'll just have been a fish."

The biting smell of a wood fire filled Tabitha's nostrils. She paused for a moment to look up and see if she could tell where the breeze was blowing from. Unable, she continued up the slope of the small hill. It was rocky and the vines and tree's grew amongst the rocks giving her handholds. At the top of the slope was a large exposed rock. It was slanted towards the river with a shallow ledge between it and the surrounding ground.

As the sargent turned to try and judge where the fire was from her eyes caught the flash of something across the river. She dropped to the ground damning a list of gods for only providing a mere eight inches between the top edge of the rock and the ground.

"What is it?" Walter asked, Tabitha could here some sapling loosing its roots as he held on to it to keep from falling back down the ridge. "Something across the river."

She pulled the binoculars from her backpack and pushed up on her elbows to look down at the people on the other side of the river. She couldn't see much of anything with standard lenses, so she switched on the IR. There was a group of people standing in some tall brush on the far side a bit upstream of their postion.

Tabitha felt Walter drop next to her. The sound of pepples hitting rocks beyond drew her attention. The noblewoman had crossed the ridge and was now behind a tall rock on the downslope. The blond had her rifle at the ready.

"Well?" Walter was attempting his best flat as a rock but comming more off as a small beached seal. "Well? he asked Tabitha again, with more urgency.

"I don't know...there is a group across the river, maybe the same group we saw earlier but they don't have horses or the huminod with a tail...and I smell a woodfire..."

Temperance turned and whispered, "I think I see smoke, throw me the binocs..."

Tabitha scowled for a moment and then tossed the unit underhand to Temperance who caught them as they approched smacking into the rock she was hiding behind.

Temperance paused for a second, "It looks like we have a native village up ahead or something. That island is crawling with IR signitures."

Tabitha dropped down on her side. She looked at the youth who was now on his back with the squad support gun firmly gripped across his chest. "Alright, does either of the Torrhaven University Graduates have any good ideas because I'm f***ing out..."

Sarlya tilted her head, her sharp hearing picking up something on the other bank. "Someones over there, far bank."

"How do you know?" Dureena asked, "Never mind", she amended as soon as she remembered her friends sharp hearing. Her own, though she elven, wasn't even as sharp as humans after a bout of fever in her youth. "Any idea who they might be?"

"No, whoever they are at least one if not more aren't very adept at woodlore. Dee, what if they're moving toward the village? I doubt that's their home or they would be at least somewhat quieter."

Dureena nodded and then thought. A moment later she moved over to where the horses had been tied up and took her white robe from her saddle bag. She found a long stick and tied the robe to it then returned to Sarlya. "Where are the village guards?"

Sarlya stood up and pointed directly at where the guards were hiding. Dureena raised the makeshift peace flag and held her other hand out and open to indicate she meant no harm and hoped that Sarlya was right about her estimate in thier range, staying about a hundred yards from thier position.

the two guards stared in amazement as the woman came out with a peice of cloth on the end of a stick. It meant nothing to them, except that the woman was trying to commit suicide. "Can you shoot her?" Yanimtot asked

"It's a long shot," Kilak replied, "i'll give it a go." he drew back his shortbow and took careful aim. The woman was still standing there, the man made a few last adjustments and then let fly, the arrow landing in the san a few feet away from the womans feet.

jon, a skinny, but musclar guy with brown hair and brown eyes laid down in the brush at the sign of commotion from the others in the group. he smelled a fire as well, he knew it was a fire from his early pyro years. "what is it Sarlya?" he asked

he gripped his MP-7 that was in his thigh holster, he hoped they would see them and attack so he could finally see some action for once in his career.

he took his hand off the gun and got his binocs out to have a look for him self, "Where are they?" he said scanning past the river

Bump

(OOC - Sorry, was waiting to see if anyone else was going to respond first, didn't want to jump ahead.)

"Sarlya", Dureena said, "tell them in common that we mean no harm and would like to speak with thier elders."

Sarlya nodded and shouted the request, even though she was relatively sure they didn't understand the common tongue. Then as Dureena intentionally stepped within range of their bows Sarlya knocked an arrow, summoned her magic and prepared herself to shoot the next arrow out of the air. If Dureena's obvious move to put herself in harm's way didn't make them realize that she meant no harm then maybe Sarlya's skill would at least make them think twice before shooting again, especially since the second arrow they shoot would mean one of thier deaths with an easy shot through one of their eyes. A simple matter for her at this range.

One of the women was stepping forwards, speaking in some strage tounge, she was in range and Kilak was prepareing to shoot her. It would be easy for a hunter of his abilitys. He drew back the string, ready to fire when his partner put his hand on the other mans arm.

"Lets hear what she has to say first."

"Why, she's speaking gibberish."

"She's not trying to hurt us is she? If we try to talk to her maybe she'll speak properly." He cupped his hands to his moutha nd yelled, "Who the hell are you?"

Sarlya didn't understand a word he said but realized that the language was one that wasn't familiar to her. She replaced her arrow into her quiver and pointed to herself. "SARLYA", she shouted and then pointed to Dureena and shouted again, "DUREENA". She then repeated what the man had just said to her, "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?"

Dureena looked at Sarlya questioningly, "What did they say?"

"Not a clue. I'm assuming they're asking us to identify ourselves, it's what I would do in thier position. So I gave them our names and repeated what they said but for all I know they insulted our mothers and I just did the same. We'll find out in a moment."

Dureena looked back toward the shore then at Sarlya, "Didn't you have a spell that allowed you understand and speak languages?"

"I do, but I have to be closer. If they'll get us to thier elder then I can cast the spell and communicate."

Dureena nodded and looked back toward the archers.

Sarlya didn't understand a word he said but realized that the language was one that wasn't familiar to her. She replaced her arrow into her quiver and pointed to herself. "SARLYA", she shouted and then pointed to Dureena and shouted again, "DUREENA". She then repeated what the man had just said to her, "WHO THE HELL ARE YOU?"

Dureena looked at Sarlya questioningly, "What did they say?"

"Not a clue. I'm assuming they're asking us to identify ourselves, it's what I would do in thier position. So I gave them our names and repeated what they said but for all I know they insulted our mothers and I just did the same. We'll find out in a moment."

Dureena looked back toward the shore then at Sarlya, "Didn't you have a spell that allowed you understand and speak languages?"

"I do, but I have to be closer. If they'll get us to thier elder then I can cast the spell and communicate."

Dureena nodded and looked back toward the archers.
"Weird names." Kilak said to his partner.

"And did you hear there pronuciation, could barley udnerstand it."

"If it was our language they where trying to speak and not some war cry."

"Why would they yell a war cry and point to themselves?" His partner pointed out Kilak nodded. He yelled out his name, "Kilak! and then his partner did the same, "Yanimtot!" yelled the other.

"Now what?" what to do next hadn't crossed either of the mens minds, as one they both stood up and placed there bows on the floor in a gesture of peace.

"Why would they yell a war cry and point to themselves?" His partner pointed out Kilak nodded. He yelled out his name, "Kilak! and then his partner did the same, "Yanimtot!" yelled the other.

"Now what?" what to do next hadn't crossed either of the mens minds, as one they both stood up and placed there bows on the floor in a gesture of peace.

"Kilak and Yanimtot?" Dureena asked, struggling with the names. "Odd names", she said to Sarlya.

"Everything is a matter of perspective", Sarlya replied, "to them, our names sound odd."

Dureena nodded, "Apologies, this said is true."

They watched as the two placed thier bows on the ground. Sarlya layed hers down as well and drew the rapier-like elven longsword and placed it beside the bow. She didn't bother with the quivers since arrows, as any archer knows, doesn't make a highly effective weapon by themselves. Dureena drew the longsword that glowed with an inner light and laid the magical weapon on the ground behind her and did the same with the heavy footman's mace on her side. Then both stood, waiting to see what the guards would do next.

Tabitha looked off in the distance. "Alright what the hell is all that screaming and yelling about?"

Walter and Tabitha both looked at each other and then at Temperance. Temperance seemed to have a hard glint in her eyes. "Elves...bloody f***ing elves." She turned and looked at Walter.

"Hand over the squad gun Wal...Now..." She ordered.

"Ah, hun I don't think..."

"Now Wal..."

He nodded and tossed the weapon to Temperance. She tossed back her rifle. She drew back the bolt, and looked at the other two with a look that would make most human's want to cross themselves.

Tabitha began to speak, but Temperance was gone. She turned on her employeer. "What was that about?"

Walter had gotten up and grabbed one of the rifles. "Temperance's younger sister was a lieutenant with the 14th...." He stated dryly.

Tabitha went blank, "Which company?"

"B..."

"So we just sent her off to go blow holes in a bunch of elves?"

*****
Temperance was remembering all of her training she had received on how to move quietly through the jungle. Somehow a part of Temperance, her rage, was out of control. Her mind was elsewhere, trying to comfort a sick, hearbroken mother. Watching an empty coffin be placed into the family crypt. The feeling of emptiness as she cleared out her sister's apartment. The greif, unrealeased over all this time had turned to rage. Rage against elves. Rage against the elves of the Gonad who had slaughtered The 14th Marine Battallion, Company B.

The elves of the Gonad were the worst of any race. They had, because of the deprevations of mad men and religious zelots, been turned a very nightmare of a race. They were canabalistic, murdering monsters who prayed to the devil himself.

The Company of Alconian Marines had gotten inbetween the elves and their prey and paid a heavy toll, 60% casualties. Most had only been identified by small scraps of bone after the battle.

The elves yelling at the natives had awaken that rage. And that rage was quickly, and quietly moving down the slope towards them. That rage had the equivilant of a long range, light machinge gun with scope.

Temperance slowed for only a second as she reached the edge of the river. There were several rocks across the stream here. She jumped from one to the next. As she crossed over the main current, she slipped on the rock and fell almost all the way into the water.

The cold stream did not quench her rage. She just pulled herself out and dropped behind some rocks. She hunkered down for a moment, checking her weapon. As she did so she screamed in archaic elvish. "I hope you pointy eared demon's know that death has come for you whore's."

Dureena was slower to act than Sarlya who had the speed and grace of a dancer. Therefore Dureena was knocked to the ground as Sarlya dropped and kicked the woman's legs out from under her. The other reason she reacted so quickly was the reference to being a whore. It was, in essence, the truth. A truth forced on her by her parent's bizaare power struggle between themselves. She grabbed her bow and then crawled into the underbrush, motioning Dureena to do the same. As Dureena followed suit Sarlya looked in the general direction of the shout. All she needed was one glimpse and it would be over. She summoned her power, preparing to phase the arrow she drew slowly out of her quiver to allow it to pass unimpeded through any obstacle other than it's target.

"Wait, what are you doing?", Dureena asked.

"Getting ready to defend myself."

"How do you know this person was talking to us? She seemed to be talking to a demon."

Sarlya glanced at her companion, "They were speaking in elvish. Now that in and of itself isn't proof, since demons can speak any language they want but I haven't seen any demon's around here and barring you and I, I haven't seen any elves either." Then she looked back toward the direction of the shout, "stay here". She then began moving forward quietly through the jungle toward the shout.

Temperance by now was playing sniper. The end of the squad support gun was laying silently in a crevice between two rocks. The light blue eye staring down the non-reflective scope waiting for the enemy to show themselves. Somewhere Temperance's mind was begining to argue against murdering these elves. But the rage still held control.

Walter stopped and looked down. He couldn't see Temperance but he knew she was down there. And because the machine gun in her hands hadn't fired yet, she hadn't found her target.

I suppose she could be right. They could be Gonad elves. Well there is one way to find out I suppose.

He turned to look back up at the rock where Tabitha was watching the area with the IR. She held up two fingers.
Two individuals down there...alright let's see if they react to this

In Vrakian he yelled out, "May God have Mercy on your evil souls, you fu**ing wood ticks." And then waited.

A Gonad elf would loose it and try to kill me on the spot with that comment.

The two guards dived to the floor as a monester came crashing out of the bush towards the two unarmed women. Kilak, the quickest of the pair immdielty schooped up his bow and opened fire on the thing which ahd now revealed itself to be a mad woman.

His partner followed suit, using the hunter technique, fire a arrow and move, never let the pray know where you are.

Sarlya didn't understand a word that was said but one thing was clear. The first voice was a woman and the second was a man. At least two attackers were out there. She continued to move around toward the where the voices had come from, seeking to stay out of direct line of sight and come in behind the two people. She was tired of running and whoever they were, Zhentarim or Rose order, were going to pay for the loss of Verlinda, Grenal and Hal. Angry though she was she kept to her training.

"Be patient", Verlinda had told her, "move slowly, quietly. Don't rush." That was exactly what Sarlya was doing. Slow, quiet, circling, looking for her chance. Looking for her target.

Walter waited a moment for the elves to come running out of the underbrush. Nothing. Well thank God for small miracles these days.

"Mar hun...can you..." Walter picked up a movement out of the corner of his eye. It was the sargent indicating that one of the two elves was circling.

Damn, so they don't like being under threat fine. Walter paused trying to remember the archic elvish he had once learned.

"Elf hold...er...my master archer has heat sight. Not elves we hate, I am coming into open view to calm my...er...warrior. I come with my arrows unknocked." God, I wish I had actually paid attention in class. One bloody semester of archaic lanquages and the one I need is the one I got a bleeding C in.

Walter followed the break in the underbrush that Temperance had used.

Temperance was silent. Waiting for her prey to come out. Yet the rage inside of her was slowly loosing out to her higher senses as her burst of emotion slowly drained her.

Walter stepped onto the rock at the edge of the river and could see where Temperance was.

"Mer hun, turn around and look at me...Mer...this is not the Gonad...those elves are innoccent."

"They're all...they're all arrogant bastards who...who f*** goats and...."

"Now Mer...you know elves don't screw goats...they all pray to Sithiril who fu**s Melkor"

Temperance almost chuckled at that. She pulled backed and let the squad support gun lean up in the crack. The blond turned to face Walter, dropping back on the rock emotionally exauhsted.

"God...what the hell is wrong with me?" She asked in a pleading, weak voice.

Walter held up his hand for a second. He spoke outloud in his poor, archaic elvish again, "elves, come out bows unknocked, swords sheathed, or hostile I shall believe thee to be. No harm do we mean you."

Walter looked down at the two arrows sticking out of the muddy bank near Temperance. Actually, if she hadn't slipped into the river the two arrows would be sticking out of Temperance.

'Like hell', Sarlya thought as she took aim from conceilment and then groaned inwardly as Dureena stood and stepped forward, sheathing the glowing longsword. Sarlya hesitated a moment, ready to fire but then changed her mind rather than risk Dureena. She put the arrow back in her quiver and the bow over her shoulder.

Dureena heard the crude elven but understood it well enough. After sheathing her blade she removed her gauntlets and then her helm. She placed the gauntlets into her upturned helm and pulled down the under chain and padding to reveal hair the color of gold that went down into the armor itself and light, crystal blue eyes in a beautiful face. "I understand you", she said in elven, "we mean you no harm." She held out one hand in peace, the other holding onto her helm.

Sarlya stepped out from her conceilment from behind the three, opposite from where Dureena stood. She had brown hair to her mid back and brown eyes with a model's look and body and dancer's grace. Unlike Dureena who wore master work banded mail armor Sarlya wore only a brief, bra like leather top, an archer's vambrace on her arm, an archer's glove covering two fingers and a very short leather skirt split front and back for easier riding. On her feet she wore soft leather sandels to move quietly and was obviously only half elven unlike her full elven companion.

"I am Dureena", the golden haired armor clad woman told them, "a Holy Knight of Torm. That", she said, pointing toward Sarlya behind them, "is Sarlya. Might you honor me with your names?"

Walter let out a sigh of releif as the tall female elf walked out of the darkness of the jungle.


"I understand you", she said in elven, "we ??? you no harm." ...."I am Dureena ....a ??? ????? of Torm. That is Sarlya. Might you ???? me with your names?"


Walter had a look of confusion about his blue eyes. His brow furrowed under his mop of brown hair and jungle hat. He kept the muzzle of the assult rifle in the crook of his arm pointed down, as he pulled his hat off his head and gave a small head bow to both elven women. He began in his halting elvish again, "I appologize for my crude words, my elvish is poor."


He stepped forward and smiled at Temperance still laying against the rock. He judged the distance over the main current for a moment, as he continued to try and parse out a sensible statement. "I am Walter VanBuren...." He jumped the distance. His slightly portly body seemed to be unsteady for a moment as he landed. But he regained his balance and continued, "The woman warrior is Temperance Vouge. He slung his rifle across his back as he walked up on the group of rocks. Picking up the squad support gun and placing it up on the largest rock.

"I do not know the proper words for the one who watches us from the rocks above."

Temperance looked up at Walter and said the elvish world , "Sargent"
"Ah, yes Sargent Bithe is her name."

Temperance interupted, "Hun, the one who is speaking is a Knight of some kind.." She said quietly as she regained her composure.

"Well she is dressed as one," he replied quietly.

He then switched back to elvish, "We did not know of elves in this place."

He then switched back to elvish, "We did not know of elves in this place."

"We are far from home", Durenna replied. "I had been sent to investigate a kobald raid on a nearby farm to our town. We uncovered a plot from a powerful orginization who was working with another even more powerful originization. My church was unable to protect us and we were forced to flee. Sarlya and I are the only two left of our group. She had been born to magic, a sorceress. She studied the art of the ranger under one of our companions. She's on her way to becoming an arcane archeress.

"As for me, I was born into a religious family and have studied in the church all my life. We're still hunted by the Zhentarim and the Rose, trying to find a way to strike back, but..." Dureena shrugged, at a loss for words and embarrassed to admit that her church ordered her to run rather than fight. Even though she knew she would lose it would be an honorable death.

Walter blinked for a moment, then looked at Temperance. He spoke in his elvish again, <I only understood half of your words...Knight...> Switching his gaze from the standing blond to the one sitting behind the rock.

"You just scraped by in elvish didn't you Wal..." Temperance said as she finally stood up. There was a wry smile on the tired, attractive face of the blond. She Then sat down again, but on the rock and facing the two elves.

"Yes, Mar...did you get half of that?"

"About three-quarters...there are some words decended from roots I can guess at..."

"You up to translating?" Walter asked.

"More than you are apparently."

Temperance leveled her light blue eyes at the Knight, and then began in elvish again <I ask forgive my earlier outbust. My people...> she indicated both herself and Walter, <seldom have dealings with your race except with one branch, a barbaric group of canabals and degenerates. The lands which we are in, once had connections to the lands of those barbaric elves. I have a blood oath to deal harshly with all of those monsters I meet.> She paused again, her eyes unfocused for a moment. Walter placed a hand on her shoulder, which she placed her hand over.

<I am quite happy that we did not meet them, but you.>

She paused again, trying to regain some more of her composure. <There are seveal words to your tale that I did not comprehend. For example, what is a 'kobald?' And your refered to an flower in a most odd way. Nor have I any clue what 'Zhentarim' means.>

*****
Tabitha was getting antsy about the foursome out in the open. Alright, so we have freindly elves, if that isn't a rarity...now let's make sure no one busts up our little get together. She used the IR unit to keep an eye out for anyone attempting to approach the group.

OOC:For easier clarification I am going to use <to indicate elvish>
"To indicate english"

(OOC - These two usually speak in elven since it's the only language that Dureena knows. If Sarlya speaks in another language then I'll note in the text.)

Dureena looked at Sarlya who raised an eyebrow. "Well it's common isn't it?"

Sarlya had kept silent so they didn't know that she could largely understand them. "It's a derivative. Possibly regional variation or altered through time."

"Can you communicate with them?" Dureena asked.

"Possibly." Sarlya looked back at the other three and spoke in an older form of english. "An kobald be a creature. Small, many. Cowardly. Thusly had been our confusion in thier attacks. The .... rose. They be likened unto an orginization. The Iron Rose they be named. Zhentarim", she said with a slight shudder, "be powerful. Many strong magics. Many they be in number. Dark priests", she stopped and muttered 'no' in elven, her brows creasing a moment in concentration. "Evil priests, yes? Evil? No priests as Dureena's faith. No help. Unkind. Many magics, no, magi .... WIZARDS. Yes, many wizards, not good. Evil, yes?"

Walter blinked as Sarlya began to speak in english. "You know I don't know if I feel so bad anymore about my poor elvish" he wispered to Temperance.

Temperance just nodded distractedly. Evil Magic...Truely evil magic? The Vrakians think anything that smacks of magic is evil. And the Dyellians, well they tend to be a fairly mixed bag.

Realizing they had both been quiet a bit longer than proper, Temperance nodded and spoke. <I understand better now...> She paused again in thought. "Walter do you think the cult would be intrested in this?"
"Evil magic Orginization? If they really are evil yes..."
"So how do we contact the cult, I mean there are no offical channels between..."
"I know a preistess, we dated for awhile..."
"Oh...." Temperance said this with cool detachment.

Temperance again focused on the two elves, <This Zhentarim, these dark magic users may be of intrest to some....people we can contact. Tell me Knight who do you pray to? Your Church that is?>

Walter bent down, "We won't have a proper sat to link to for eighteen hours, Mar."

Temperance stopped for a moment. <Unfortunatly we...I must explain in my native tounge> "We can not safely contact the outside world, and them, for eighteen hours. At the moment we're just a pair of arceologists doing an inital survey of the region, but we do offer our assistance in at least helping you out of this jungle."

Seeing that the people seemed to know each other the guards relaxed and disappeared from view once more, into the deapths of the jungle. Kilak sent his partner back to tell the tell the Elder what had occured while he continued to watch.

Temperance again focused on the two elves, <This Zhentarim, these dark magic users may be of intrest to some....people we can contact. Tell me Knight who do you pray to? Your Church that is?>

"I am a Holy Knight, a Holy Avenger to be specific, of Torm. Torm represents duty, loyalty and obedience. We supported the local town law enforcers when needed, at least until this debacle. Sarlya and I are now seeking a way to stop them, though as yet, I fear, we've only managed to get ourselves lost.

Sarlya worships Eilistraee, a deity of song, beauty, dance, swordwork, hunting and moonlight. I'm afraid that I know little of that deity and Sarlya doesn't discuss her religion much.

What about you? What is your religion?"

Temperance stopped for a moment. <Unfortunatly we...I must explain in my native tounge> "We can not safely contact the outside world, and them, for eighteen hours. At the moment we're just a pair of arceologists doing an inital survey of the region, but we do offer our assistance in at least helping you out of this jungle."

"Lost is lost", Sarlya replied in her old english, "here, elsewhere, little difference. What is ark-ee-all-o-jists? Military? You survey region for defense? Attack?"

Tyrik chose the moment between the initial chaos between the robe-waving woman and the appearance of the elves to make a discreet landfall. His lungs burning from lack of oxygen, he carefully high-crawled into a thicket of jungle bushes to catch his breath. As well adapted to the water he was, he still wasn't a fish. The pungent scent of the natives was close, he guessed they either washed rarely or he had become so used to the scent of modernized humans he'd lost the resistance to the reek of unwashed mammal.

The Beretta came out of its holster, drying rapidly in the jungle heat. Tyrik released the magazine and shook it, making sure it had remained somewhat dry throughout the process. With a slight click it secured itself within the grip of the nine-milimeter, wrapped firmly in his scaly grip. There he would wait for a few minutes and survey the area.

Lord C had grown somewhat impatient, and leaving Mohammed with the doctor, went off into the underbrush with his Webley drawn & his expensive rifle slung over his shoulder. Someone was speaking something unusual up ahead, and he moved to investigate. The Englishman thumbed back the hammer on his top-break revolver, prepared for pretty much anything. It seemed he'd happened upon a rather chance meeting, three people conversing with a blonde in armor and a shorter female in leather...

'I say, is this some sort of kinky party? Americans no doubt...'

Something wrapped around his foot, sharp and warm. It growled at him, a puma that had swiped his feet out from under him...

"No beast shall best this hunter!"

A forty-four magnum shot rang throughout the forest, the heavy round splitting the skull of the cat at close range & showering the starched white khaki pants with brain matter and blood spatter...

"A pity I can't put you on my wall, you filthy beast..."

The aging man began to try to get to his feet...

OOC: Point of fact the squad support gun (http://www.meatballs.terminator.org.uk/crookfur/images/S2A3LSW.jpg) is a British concept. So Lord C would likely recognize it. Alconians sound more like people from South Africa (And a former colony also, but we skipped out on Cromwell)

IC: <I am not familiar with Torm. But that means little.> Temperance stopped and shrugged when asked about religion. <There are no proper elven words for my religion that I know of. But there are those in my native land that follow Athena, the goddess of stratagy and war. They have a particular dislike of dark magic users, and may be willing to help you.>

Walter replied in english to Sarlya,
"If your enemies are who you describe, we might be able to get you some ally's in your fight. I particularly don't like the sound of dark wizards doing dark deeds. As for me, no I study the dead..."

The sound of gunfire nearby startled Walter. He turned and focused his gun in the general direction. Temperance rolled of the rock and grabbed the squad support gun as she did so. She continued to roll, doing a sumersault allowing her to point the weapon downstream.

"Who goes there?" Walter called out in his alconian accented english.

<I am not familiar with Torm. But that means little.> Temperance stopped and shrugged when asked about religion. <There are no proper elven words for my religion that I know of. But there are those in my native land that follow Athena, the goddess of stratagy and war. They have a particular dislike of dark magic users, and may be willing to help you.>

"That would be wonderful", Dureena replied then looked toward Sarlya, "you see? I told you Torm would guide us." But Sarlya was listening to Walter and both thier faces took on a dark look at his words.

Walter replied in english to Sarlya,
"If your enemies are who you describe, we might be able to get you some ally's in your fight. I particularly don't like the sound of dark wizards doing dark deeds. As for me, no I study the dead..."

Dureena gasped at his words, "Necromancy", she uttered in her elven tongue and her tone and pitch indicated distaste. Sarlya was about to say something but was stopped.

A forty-four magnum shot rang throughout the forest...

Both women jumped and Sarlya quickly removed her bow and an arrow. As she took the arrow from the quiver it seemed to flash and then glow with it's own light. Dureena's sword glowed as well, though it seemed natural to the blade. Neither woman had ever heard the report of a gun before and both were expected some terrible creature to emerge from the jungle.

Kilak had had a full view of Lord C's action and ran as hard as he could back towards the village, these people had a power, a terrable power far greater than anything he imagined-to kill a Puma like that must be magic. must be.

He forced his way through bushes and trees, swatting undergrowth out of rthe way in a reckless run toweards the fires. Then he burst into a slight clearing and saw some strange creature stood there, a monster covered in scales, he turned and ran the way he'd come shouting the alarm at the top of his voice...

OOC: Something I've never seen before, AAC. It's definitely modeled after the L85 Enfield, however, and Lord Canterbury will most likely recognize it. His revolver, however, is an old relic from the second world war. I was referring to the elven language.

IC:

Both the Argonian and the Englishman cursed at the same moment...

"Shit..."

"Damn..."

In his attempt to crawl discretely out from under the bushes that had concealed him, a native had nearly run over top of him. The sights on his handgun were centered soundly in the upper back of the man, positioned to blow segments of his spine outward through his heart, but Tyrik's finger slackened on the trigger, unable to kill a non-threatening human...

"This isn't good..."

The Argonian started off after the man, his longer stride allowing him to gain gradually...

Lord C frowned at the response to his gunshot...

"I say my good fellow, naught but a curious subject of the King..."

He remained hidden, turning to see Mohammed and the doctor crashing through the forest towards him, alarmed by the gunfire...

"And who might you be?"

Came the English-accented reply...

Temperance shook her head, "If your a subject of the Duke of Lancaster sir, then stand and be recognized by subjects of the Duke of Alcona. But I warn you that we are quite well armed, as is our fashion."

Walter seemed to chuckle at the odd refrences. Obviously the man was acting like he was english. But then Germans had long perfected the technique of sounding English, but not being English. Refering to the King of England by his secondary, family title, was a way of tripping up an imposter.

Lord C stood, waving his hand excitedly for the others to stay back...

"Indeed. I am a loyal subject of his majesty, by whatever title you refer to him. You'll find me a bit harder to trip up than Jerry, I'm afraid..."

The Lord stepped forward, revolver uncocked and in its full-flap holster, albiet with the flap unhooked. From the pith helmet to his monocle and handlebar mustache, Lord Canterbury seemed to be the stereotypical Englishman...

"I am Lord Canterbury, on self-imposed exile across the globe..."

The Lord executed a short bow, then resumed his monologue...

"You haven't seen a companion of ours, a lizard chap with a tail? He's gone off looking for some gnomes or something of that sort..."

Mohammed shook his head from his position behind the Englishman, then called out a correction...

"Elves, Lord C! Elves!"

Lord Canterbury's features brightened up at the correction...

"Ah yes! Elves. Thank you my good man..."

Temperance raised herself up, "Quite, I am Lady Temperance Vouge..." She stated a small bow to the english lord. "And my fiance Doctor Watler VanBuren." Temperance held out a hand towards Walter while cradling the squad support gun in the crook of her other arm.

Watler gave a short bow and said, "Pleased to make your aquaintence my lord."

"As for anyone with a tail, no we have not seen them. However I would like to introduce Dame Dureena and her armsman Sarlya. Two elves we have just become aquainted with." Temperance smiled at the Lord.

If Lord Cantabury looked like the quinsential englishman, then Lady Vouge looked like the quinisential female Alconian. The kaki short sleave sleave shirt with prussian collar, dark green shorts, and a bush hat with one part of the brim up to keep it from interfering with dropping her rifle.

Walter made a fake cough for moment. "Ah Lord Cantabury would you ask your mates to join us please. I don't want our guide to get the wrong impression and snipe anyone mistakenly."

Sarlya inched back next to Dureena and leaned in close, "We should go."

"She said we might find help", Dureena whispered back.

"He said he's a Necromancer, how many necromancer's do you know want to HELP you?"

"The Queen of Dragonsreach has a necromancer for an advisor."

"BOTH of which are vampires, do you really believe that they're benevolent?"

"Maybe he's not a necromancer."

"'I study the dead'. Now he doesn't exactly look like a gravedigger and even if he was, the last I knew, they didn't exactly study th...."

"Elves, Lord C! Elves!"

Lord Canterbury's features brightened up at the correction...

"Ah yes! Elves. Thank you my good man..."

Sarlya looked toward the talking man as something registered in her mind about what he was saying.

"You haven't seen a companion of ours, a lizard chap with a tail? He's gone off looking for some gnomes or something of that sort..."

"Gnomes", she said stepping forward as Dureena looked at her oddly. "GNOMES?" She said again as she raised her bow.

"Sarlya DON'T, what's wrong?" Dureena asked, not having understood what he said, but her companion had already drawn the bow back. Dureena did the only thing she could and used her sword to tip the bow upward. Even then it only barely missed Lord Cantabury's right eye, whizzing past his scalp.

Dureena stepped between the two, sheathing her sword and grabbing her friend.

"I'LL SHOW YOU ELF, YOU BARBARIC, HALF-WITTED, FATHERLESS, ORCISH SON OF A WHORE!!" Sarlya shouted in outrage.

Dureena gasped in shock, "SARLYA!"

"HE called us GNOMES. He's either blind or STUPID. If the first then I'm doing him a favor, if the second then I'm doing his family LINE a favor."

"Sarlya", Dureena said again, this time her voice was low, even and calm. "Not all are aquanted with other races. You know through study, I know only the one's I've met. Please Sarlya, this not the place for pride. We'll go if that's what you want. The necromancer may be here to deceive us, you might be right. But don't do this."

Dureena voice was musical and melodious and not just from the language she spoke. She had a beautiful singing voice from years in the choir at her church and she used a sing song tone to reach through her friends anger and calm her.

(OOC - just a note, everything here is in elven, even Sarlya's outburst. When angery that's the language she'll normally revert to.)

Lord C barely seemed to notice the outburst, as well as the arrow nipping past his head. Mohammed, however, responded by raising his AK-47 to a ready position, the 7.62x39mm round would certainly make quite a hole in leather, flesh, metal plate, pretty much anything in the forest at that time. The large man stepped forward, weapon on the shoulder and a round chambered.

What they were, he didn't care. They were posing a threat to his companions, and he couldn't much count on the doctor for back-up. Tyrik was off somewhere, the only other ex-soldier in the group, and he hadn't seen that damn journalist for some time. The woman on his right held a support weapon, British by the look of it. Mohammed estimated he could drop two before someone got a weapon to bear, and hopefully Lord C or the doctor would be able to drop whoever that was...

"You fire that thing again and I'll drop both of you..."

His accent was thick, but not to the degree that his words were meaningless...

"Indeed my lady, this gentleman is Mohammed, an African mercenary... Am I correct my good man?"

Mohammed seemed somewhat occupied, and didn't answer...

"And this is... M'lady, what was your name again?"

"Agatha Cromwell, M.D."

Her reply was curt, suspicious, and somewhat shaky. She held Tyrik's M16 like it was a metal pole rather than an assault weapon. Her Hi-Power was more familiar, but she'd neglected to draw it in lieu of the rifle the Argonian had handed her...

"Ah yes, Doctor Aggie... And this is... Where is damned hell has Baxter gotten to? Damn Americans and their wanderlust. Perhaps Tyrik has located him?"

Baxter's cold hand clutched the grip of his Makarov, his prone body shaking with each bite the puma took out of his abdomen. Seven 9x18mm rounds were within the small handgun, he'd never gotten a chance to fire it. The camera lay nearby, flung out of reach as the cat struck...

"Ah, not matter... He's probably off taking pictures somewhere..."

Temperance could see things were going wrong. "Ah Lord Cantbury I think you just offended the elves."

She turned and spoke in elvish <I ask you to calm down. First, he did not call you er...a Gnome...Second he comes from a land that knows little about either Elves or Gnomes. Just as you know nothing about Quarks or Supernovas>

Walter looked at the elves then back at the african. "Sir could you drop that rifle a bit, it seems that the elves mistook the words of your employer for a great insult." He paused for a moment, "And they really seem to not have grasped the concept of fire arms so your threat is pointless at the moment."

For a moment Walter looked at Temperance. She looked back and shrugged minutely.

"Well now, before Lord Cantbury interupted, I was just explaining that an archeologist studies dead cultures," Walter began. Trying to use conversation to ease the tension a bit.

"Er..culture I doubt you understand that word, " He nodded towards the elves,"...well I study the people who lived somewhere long ago and no longer are...what they left behind..."

Temperance dropped down onto the rock again. She looked at the african with a stern glance and then drew his eyes down to the light machine gun in her arms. It was pointed down to the ground, but the message was obvious. Your outgunned, so calm down and lower your weapon

**********
Tabitha had been trying to decide who should be the target. The newcomer, the large man with the assult rifle, one of the two fuzzies? [i]Fu**, she swept the area again, looking for anything else to pop up. There was another large cat. This one appeared to be dining...on a human.

"Fu** now how do I tell them..."

She picked up her rifle and laid herself upon the large rock. Putting the bush that was hiding the large cat's head from view in the center of the scope's cross hairs. She pulled back a moment to check that she was using the surpressed barrel, then aimed again and squeezed the trigger.

The muffled bang sent out a 6.25mm round towards the eating puma below.

Mohammed narrowed his eyes, keeping the rifle on-line with his target...

"Maybe this will get the point across..."

The muzzle shifted about an inch to the right before Mohammed blew a chunk out of a nearby tree. He then lowered the weapon and pointed at the elf, then at the small crater in the tree. Then the finger went from the gun to the tree to the elf...

"Perhaps she now understands that shooting at people is impolite. If the lizard man was here, he might have shot them on sight. He has an uncommon distaste for their kind... I believe I am beginning to see why..."

Lord C seemed snapped out of his trance by the gunshot...

"Mohammed, quit that nonsense! We don't want to offend our companions..."

The African glared fire at the Englishman, the sort of gaze the British infantry might have seen before they were engaged and defeated by the Zulu tribesmen from which Mohammed might actually have been descended...

"Just stick to trees then, if you must shoot something... And where the hell is Baxter?"

Sarlya jumped as the gun went off, but at least knew where it came from this time. She looked at the hole in the tree and then back at the man. She got the meaning and she didn't like it. She put her bow back in it's place and raised a finger. She pointed at herself then Mohammed then at a tree next to him. She spread her other fingers and suddenly crackling white dart-objects leaped from her fingers, impacted against the tree, shattering the thick trunk and sent it crashing down. Even as the first began to fall she moved to a second, placing her strike again with precision. The first tree fell in front of the African, the second behind. Her message was clear. The first was intended to miss, just as the second. She moved her hand to point directly at Mohammed, the third wouldn't miss and the power was greater than his own.

Dureena had jumped as well as the gun went off but she turned and looked at the man wielding it with anger rather than fear. The man's message was clear, he was threatening Sarlya. She seemed to glow from an inner power and Sarlya smiled. The man's shot wouldn't penetrate the magical barrier, but her's would.

Mohammed's mouth twisted into a sneer...

"I won't waste bullets trading shots with you... Next time I aim for your head."

There was a faint click as he put the weapon into full-automatic mode...

OOC: I tend to draw the line at the uber-magical bulletproof shield.

OOC - If it were then I would I agree with you. But it's not. It's a clerical ability to turn aside attacks, typically arrows and spears. Since they've never encountered bullets then THEY are certain that it will work and since I'm posting from THIER point of view then THEY feel it will work. Just like Sarlya seems extremely potent, except it's not. She's playing a bluff knowing full well that she's expended most of her power. Her next shot wouldn't do a great deal of harm, but if she aim's low (and she would) it sure hurt like hell.

Since you started this, however, then let me say that I don't like people playing characters that aren't afraid of anything. THEY are confident because thier sure that Dureena's protection would work, which -I- know it won't, but THEY don't. However, your character, unless he's completely insane, should be diving for cover at least. I know I would, and I spent four years in the military. But if I witnessed that I sure as hell wouldn't be standing there. I'm not saying he should run but I certainly would put something between me and her before taking a shot at her. At least that way she has to take the time to take down my barricade before she has a chance to fry me.

Finally, I never post the actual situation with my characters only thier perceptions or actions. I do this because in my experience with RPs whenever I posted the facts people acted on what they knew rather than thier characters perceptions. Now, however, you know the truth of thier situation. A) Dureena's magical protection won't work against the guns but they don't know that yet. B) Sarlya doesn't have enough power to toast your character, she's bluffing. I ask only that you please post according to what your character perceives, not what YOU know.

Bump

"Gnomes", she said stepping forward as Dureena looked at her oddly. "GNOMES?" She said again as she raised her bow.

"Sarlya DON'T, what's wrong?" Dureena asked, not having understood what he said, but her companion had already drawn the bow back. Dureena did the only thing she could and used her sword to tip the bow upward. Even then it only barely missed Lord Cantabury's right eye, whizzing past his scalp.

Dureena stepped between the two, sheathing her sword and grabbing her friend.

"I'LL SHOW YOU ELF, YOU BARBARIC, HALF-WITTED, FATHERLESS, ORCISH SON OF A WHORE!!" Sarlya shouted in outrage.

Dureena gasped in shock, "SARLYA!"

"HE called us GNOMES. He's either blind or STUPID. If the first then I'm doing him a favor, if the second then I'm doing his family LINE a favor."


OOC: There was a previous arrow fired in anger already, hence a warning shot. I'm not going to argue with you on this one, there is no point. The character in question percieved a threat to his employer, who pays him to provide protection. A combat veteran, he fears little including death. I'm also writing from his point of view. If someone fired an arrow at your friend that missed their head by a scarce few inches, how would you react? You'd probably shoot them before they could do any more harm, or at least instill some sense of doubt in them to discourage a repeat of the incident.

OOC - Honestly? Well...
1) If I were employed to an idiot who didn't try to duck after the first shot then as far as I'm concerned the fool deserves what happens to him.

2) I would not, and have not, given someone a second shot. I'd be damned before giving them a second chance. Then again, since thou shalt not kill is one of god's laws and the government can't change that, I guess I am damned, but that's not a discussion for an RP thread.

I guess we come down to this .... You misperceived my character's abilities because of the way I post. You can't kill my characters without my permission, which I'm not giving. Therefore we need to work out the RP to finish this encounter.

oOC: Lets get this moving again guys, this is getting stupid, both of you have a pint and neather of you will back down, lets just forget and move on shall we?

Sarlya stood and kept her eyes on the man as he seemed to load the bizarre crossbow. Dureena looked between the two of them.

"We must stop this. Sarlya you must stop."