NationStates Jolt Archive

King John Antonette sat staring out his window. He sighed, as a huge bear ran across the meadow in the distance, after some unseen animal in the woods. He began to write down orders for the Royal Guard to herd the animals- of which there was a huge over abundance- to the edge of the forest, and massacre them. However, he chuckled, thinking of how boring that would be. He thought a few more seconds, when a thought hit him. He turned tot he computer, and sent out a letter to heads of state who were not known to dislike Cherry Ridge.
Your Majesties,
I am inviting you to come to the Manor of the King of Cherry Ridge for a massive hunt in the Royal forest. There are many animals which have simply grown too much in number, including, but not limited too: bears, deer, wild boar, wolves, and coyotes. There are also rumours of a man eating boar-like humanoid wandering the woods, however, that is just a local legend. I invite you to join me for this hunt, and ask that you provide your own transportation. You msut provide the following on your own, and only these items may be brought into the forest:
Three aides/guards
A horse for yourself and your companions
One non automatic rifle
One shotgun
A Sidearm for you and each of your three companions

Optional:
A sword
A bow and arrows
Some food supplies

A map of the area will be provided.

I hope to see you there.

Thank You, and God Bless,
His Majestic Highness, John, by the Grace of God and the favor of the Apostolic See, King of Cherry Ridge, Leath-Ri of the Isles of Redemption, Archduke of the Imperial Grand Duchy of Bavaria, Marechal of the Imperial Guard of the Greater Prussian Empire, Lord Protector of Carmel, Guardian of the Sword of Saint Michael the Archangel, and Fidei Defensor

ooc: Just post arrival at the Royal Gates. The first one to arrive, I will do a security check. Just assume the rest happens to later arrivals as well. Thank You.

Lord Protector John Melkovich chuckled as he read the invitation. A rifle and a shotgun, eh? Well, I suppose I should have some time off. "Sergeant Winters?" he called out.

"Yes, Your Highness?" replied the sergeant, always ready to fulfill the Lord Protector's needs.

"Get my security detail ready, we're going hunting in Cherry Ridge."

"At once Your Highness."

Royal Gates

It had taken some time, but the party had finally arrived. Mounted along with Lord Protector John Melkovich was Gunnery Sergeant Paul Adams, Staff Sergeant Michael Weatherspoon, and Master Sergeant Jacob Peterson. Their armament was somewhat less than typical however.

Completely meeting the definition of "one non automatic rifle" was a Denel NTW-20, chambered for the 20x83.5 mm cartridge. Normally used to take out tanks and other armored vehicles, it was now going to target critters. Trophies were not expected. Hilarity from watching big game abruptly explode was.

For a shotgun, a Mossberg 500 loaded with Dragon's Breath rounds was carried along. Rather than normal shot, these rounds were made of zirconium and produced a flamethrower effect over 300 feet long. Instant bunny BBQ.

Finally, a quartet of Makarov PMs rounded out the weapon list, a rather tame addition.

"Announce to your king that Lord Protector John Melkovich has arrived," called out Melkovich to the soldiers on duty.

Shogun Nakamura Himura Kenshin stood behind his desk gazing out of the wooden window slits at the koi pond far below in the castle's courtyard when a small knock came at his shoji screen door. "Come in," he said softly. A small man in a military uniform slid the door aside and came in. He placed the letter on the shogun's desk and bowed as he left. Kenshin turned and scanned the letter. He enjoyed the hunt, yet knowing other allied leaders would be present, and having not spent time with his family, he decided that his son would enjoy this. He opened the screen door and started running for his son's room...okay, wing...yelling his name. Suddenly, a screen door slid open just in front of him, and a tall young man, with wild, untamed brown hair sticking both up and sliding down his face at the same time. His vivid blue eyes, rare for those decended of the Japanese, widened in alarm as Kenshin slammed into him. The two were knocked down to the floor in a tangled pile. After a few seconds, they sat up and looked at each other, and then both began laughing heavily. After a few minutes, they calmed themselves down. "Taiki, Cherry Ridge is hosting a small hunting party. Wanna go, just us, father and son?"
"Yeah?"
"Sure, consider it an extra Happy 17 gift, type, thingy."
"Sure! It'd be awesome. I'll take Matsuyama."
"Of course, it's only fitting you use your favorite horse. I'll make the arrangements, while you go strnig your bow."
"Sure thing."
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FLUID TIME!!!!
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The duo arrived at the palace gates in CR, just their horses, swords, and bows and arrows for weapons. They intended to do real hunting. Once their arrows ran out, they'd use their swords. Intending to do it right, both were dressed in battle armor, as though going to a war. Their saddle packs were packed for a few days out alone, though without food...for obvious reasons.

The soldiers at the gate opened the gates, and pushed a button on them, informing their superiors of the guests arrival. They were led up the long road, but instead of being led to the palace, they were led down a smaller road. They stopped halfway, at a small outpost. They were scanned for extra weapons using the latest technology, by five Royal Guards. Fifty Regular soldiers stood on either side of the road, armed, so nobody would try anything stupid. After the scan, they were led to a regualr sized home, a log cabin, on a small pond. It was one of the many smaller homes on the manor, used for guests, parties, and different activities.
There horses were placed in a secure location. They were checked once more for weapons, then were led throguh the house, where a small lunch was prepared, of various sandwhiches, canned soda, bottled water, iced tea, and various juices. There was also fruit such as apples, plums, nectorines, peaches, and grapes. There were also twinkies at the end.
They were then led out through the back. There were four horses tied there, belonging to the four Ridgians who were sitting down waiting to greet everyone. King John wore his typical blue uniform, his two Ruger Vaqueros strapped to his side, as was his sword. The Lord Francis of Carmel wore an almost identical uniform, with less awards, with his sword, and a Ruger revolver, worn in a way that one could not tell the type. Sir William Fitzgerald, Commander of the Royal Guard, and Captain Charles Orlean, of the Regular Army, both had Beretta Stampedes. Fitzgerald wore a Rapier, Orlean a short sword. In addition, Orlean had a large knife strapped to his side, and Fitzgerald a large dagger. Attached to Carmel's horse was a machete, and on Antonette's was a sawed off shotgun (as he is the host, he gets an extra weapon for security purposes) Fitzgerald wore a slgihtly darker blue, and Orlean the same colour as Fitzgerald, with red piping. Strapped to Fitzgerald's horse was the groups Winchester Model 12 shotgun, and to Orlean's the groups M1 Garand. On Carmel's horse was a medieval-era recurve bow, used by Horse Archers in Spain. The snacks and map was in the King's pack, and ammunition was in everyones, and on their belts.
King John bounded up to the guests, and greeted them. After a few more arrivals, they would depart.

Never the ones to reject an invitation of an ally of theirs, even if it was a little hunting trip, the two Grummian leaders and their son readily accepted it and set aside their weekend plans for a trip to Cherry Ridge. The flight over was nothing truly notable, the same with the security that they had to go through, but when they finally arrived, the sight was quite interesting.

Jack, on one hand, was wearing his old SG-1 woodland BDU complete with a dark green cap, sunglasses, and gloves. He had his usual Colt 1911 sidearm holstered to his side and carried a black Benelli M1 Super 90. But compared to previous times that he had seen the other Greater Prussian leaders, he appeared to be much younger than what he had once been. His hair was no longer white but was instead dark brown. His face was much smoother than before and wrinkles were few.

His elven wife, Siri, was wearing a long black leather coat, pants, boots, and vest, appearing to be quite the western gunslinger. Her usual lightsaber, two specially made silver revolvers, and quite a few throwing knives hung from her belt, easily accessible but yet concealed behind her coat. Strapped to her back was a blackened crossbow with accompanying pouch of bolts and her silver rapier clung to her belt. And she carried a Springfield 1903 rifle in her hand beside her with the extra clips on the inside of the coat.

Appearing for the first time to the other Prussian leaders, Alakantar steadily walked beside his parents, greatly contrasting the two. He was a Drow, of course, with his pointed ears, dark obsidian skin, red eyes, and long flowing white hair. Dressed in rather medieval-appearing clothes with an addition of a cape, most of it was brown in color as it was made up of a type of rare leather. He was armed with several steel daggers fastened to his belt and a longsword that hung from his side. In addition he carried a bow and a pouch of arrows strapped to his back.

The Dersconi hunting party arrived through the gates, riding the horses that they were allowed to bring. They were a distinctly Dersconi horse, a breed that was about three-quarters horse and one quarter Giraya, which was a dragon found in Derscon that recieved its powers from the Earth. (You didn't see a lot of dragons anymore, they were kept up North, and in the hard-to-reach places where no foreigner has ever been.) The horses were guarenteed to be unique -- no other nation in Greater Prussia had dragons, never-the-less a mix between a horse and a dragon. The only way you could really tell they weren't quite horses was the fact that they were jet black, and their maines and tails tended to be a bit....spikier. They were also a little larger than a regular horse.

There were only three members of the Dersconi hunting party -- Veliky Kynaz Ivan Rekjyavich, the forty-two year old who would never miss an oppertunity to come to Cherry Ridge, Kynaz-Hetman Tarakh Alexeitovich Andropov, the eighteen year old Prince and general, and Nakamura Miharu, a seventeen year old daughter of a Dersconi mother and a Pschycotian immigrant as a father. She came from a modest working class family, but she caught the eye of General Tarakh when he was a colonel in Darii's army, two years ago. They've been dating ever since.

Prince John was wearing his ceremonial robes/armour, which looked like clothing a Dark Lord of the Sith would wear (and, in fact, they were armoured robes from a Dark Lord of the Sith) , Prince Tarakh was wearing his Forest BDU from his time in the Delta Force, and Nakamura was wearing a slightly provokative dress, fairly short shorts and a leather sleeveless vest that exposed a bit of her tight stomach (she worked out just enough so that she wouldn't develop buldging ab muscles, but that it was tight and no fat hung from it. She had the same strategy with her arms -- the only time you knew she had them was when she flexed, but if she connected a punch, you really knew she had them). All were wearing some form of combat boots, although Nakamura's were shorter on the length they came up the leg.

The Dersconis had a variety of armaments, as well, but nothing excessive. Prince John carried a pump-action shotgun (10 gauge) that Tarakh built for him, along with a combat knife, a grenade (on a dare from his nephew Xavier), and a strange contraption that looked like a rounded handle. Tarakh carried various shurikens, throwing razor knives, and two combat knives. His main weapon was a compound bow he designed and made. IT wasn't very special -- it was the arrows that counted. It was a personal creation of his in spare time. Also on his back (forming an "X" with the quiver) was a Muramasa. Prince John and Prince Xavier did enough research to figure out a way to counter the curse, so Tarakh used it as his personal weapon-of-choice. Nakamura carried two combat knives, and carried an SVD Dragunov that was made to chamber the 30-.06 round, and it was single-shot bolt action, but magazine fed, holding ten rounds, designed by her boyfriend.

They dismounted their 'Drases' with the guards and walked up to the rest of the group.

"Good evening, folks." Prince John did a flourishing bow, the robe/armour ruffling around a bit, putting on quite a show. "No guards, and what not. Hunting trips are man against nature, not army against hippie." Prince John looked over at Lord Melkovich and scoffed.

"What the fuck is that? What are you, some woman? No offence to you, my dear Siri," John quickly added, bowing to Jack's wife. He then turned back to Melkovich and continued deriding him. "Honestly, if you can't hit a goddamn bear with a rifle, you don't deserve a fecking antimaterial rifle! I mean, seriously, this is a hunting trip, not a war! If you're gonna be a pussy, just feck off!" Prince Tarakh laughed, but then leaned to John Antonette.

"Sorry about him, he had a bit too much to drink. Nevermind the fact he's right, but he's a bit over the top. He'll be better in a few minutes."

Antoentte greeted the guests, but when he saw Prince John approaching, dashed towards him as always. "John!" he exclaimed, "I was expecting you!" He waledk to his horse, and pulled a bottle of Vodka out, and poured it into two small glasses, "Not as strong as your sued to, but we don't want to get wasted before going out with guns." He handed him the glass, toasted to success, then downed it. "I chose Vodka for you. Whiskey when we return though! And more stuff." A guard took away the glasses and bottle. Antonette greeted Siri and Jack personally, and introduced himself to the younger Prince and his girlfriend.
John laughed, "My friend, I've seen him far more drunk than that. However, this is the first time I have heard him quote, while in a drunken state, from the Father Ted show. I love that show though. In fact, my horse, Dougal, was named after one of the Characters." He chuckled, and said, "Maybe I shouldn't have given him that extra vodka, huh?"
Then, he stood up and began, "I think this is all who is arriving. So we will begin, others will have a disadvantage." He stopped and began, "Before you enter the woods, pelase pick up the following items, over there." He pointed at a row of tables. "If you don't know what the map is for, your an idiot and don't deserve an explaination. The small tent is easy to set up, simply pop it open. Take one tent a person, one map per party. The tents have a cool feature, a zip on tube, so u can attach the tens of your party together, creating a very tiny 'hallway'. This is good for joint protection, as well as a place to put your weapons. There is also a canvas, veruy easy to carry, to drape over a tree, and create a shelter for your horses. It is almsot like a tent, except without a bottom." He then said, "The northeast section is somewhat swampy, yet not too bad. The Northwest is rocky and hilly. The south is basically normal woods, thoguh the southeast is much thicker. The middle, luckily is a clearing. There are cmall, one room cabins, with extra ammunition for emergencies. Guards will keep it stocked, and there will be pairs on duty in various places. They will have sniper rifles, but don't worry, that would only be to keep an eye on the non-Prussians." He laughed slightly then moved on, "Theres also a box of matches for you, quite large, and a camp ax for your group, great for cutting wood down. Just don't cut down too much, only what you need for the night. There are binoculors and a machete if you need them. Finally, there is a radio, one for each. Only use it in an emergency."

He then mounted his horse, Dougal, and said, "No questions? Good. Have fun, any animal is game. Do what you want." His group grabbed their supplies, and holding a Ridgian flag his guards handed to him, his group galloped into the woods. He furled the flag back up, stuffed it into his saddle, dismanteled the staff, and shvoe that away too.
The game was on.

The group of four Ridgians were already starting to get deeper into the woods. Then, something moved in the brush. A low rumble was heard, and one of the famous Ridgian bears (larger than IRL) stood on two legs, and let out a massive roar. Antonette called for hsi rifle, and he caught it midair. He loaded the gun, took aim, and as the bear charged him, he intentionally shot it just above its leg. The animal stumbled, and crashed into a small tree nearby, knocking it down. The animal again turned on the group, and Antonette fired again, hitting it just above it's other leg. It again fell, crashing into a somewhat large rock. This cause the rock on top of it to crash down onto the bears back. The bear roared in pain, and Antonette called for the knife. He dismounted, and aimed at the beast's neck with his revolver. With a loud gunshot, the animal slumped, and died. Antonette cut the animal's head off, cleaned the knife, and grabbed a nearby stick. He put the decapitate dhead on the stick, and hoisted it high in triumph. He shoved the stick intot he ground, displaying the bear's head. He carved "CR" intot he nearest tree. "Well, there will be more animals later for dinner. No need to move the rocks." They then galloped on, looking for more prey.

Before heading off, the two Nakamuras cantered over to the Dersconi party for some nice salutations and whatnot. They both bowed to them in friendly, equal gestures. Kenshin's signiture reverse-blade sword blended in with his armor, but Taiki wore a tachi, which curved and extended well above him when he bowed. Straightening up, Kenshin smiled and said, "well, it is good to see you all, especially you, Prince John. May I present my son, Nakamura Taiki."
Taiki bowed again, "Ah, hello! I've heard much about you, Prince John. It is good to meet you finally!"
"Taiki, we'll have time for chit-chat later. Would you go pick up the map please?"
"Sure thing." Taiki bowed and galloped off to get said map. When he was gone, Kenshin looked back down at the Dersconi party, a bit omminously in fact. He seemed to stare right at Miharu, but did not address her.
"Tis strange...," he said. "Nakamura is a name that is reserved for the royal family." This time, he addressed Miharu directly, "girl, where did you come by this name?"

Tarakh was a little perturbed at how the Shogun addressed his girlfriend, and answered for her.

"Well, my guess would be from her father, as that's how names are passed down." With that, the Dersconis mounted their Drases, grabbed their equipment (not necessarily in that order), and headed off into the woods.

They didn't see much, but as they got deeper, it sounded like something was following them.

Prince John held up his hand for them to stop, and the three Dersconis listened to the sound.

Tarakh whipped behind him to see a lone wolf stalking them. "I'll take this." HE pulled out two throwing knives and snapped them behind him, imbedding into the wolf's two eyes. Tarakh then backflipped off his Darase, landing on the wolf. He pulled out his combat knife and slit the wolf's throat, letting it bleed on the rocks. Tarakh cleaned off his knife on the wolf's skin and was about to leave when he noticed the knives. He pulled them out of the eye sockets, cleaned them off, and belted them. Climbing up on his darase, he motioned to go forward, and the Dersconi party went deeper into the woods.

Kenshin was particularly perturbed by this. "Nakamura" was a name reserved solely for the royal family, for another to have this name inside the Shogunate was punishible by death. For now, he decided to let it go. Taiki had trotted back over to him by this time, and was eager to get going. Thus, the duo headed off into the woods to search for game.

OOC: meh, crappy post...too early in the morning. more later.

As Siri fastened the saddle upon her black Thoroughbred, the Dark Lord robes of Prince John immediately caught her attention, and she carefully watched him as his party talked with the Shogun and his son. In her mind many questions were raised. Where did he manage to get a hold of such an item of clothing? Could he be a Sith Lord such as she? If so, what kind was he? All these and more made her wonder, but she knew that she would have to ask about such things in a wise manner. So due to her own lack of preparation, she decided that now wasn’t exactly the perfect time. And using the stirrups, she leapt upon her horse and rode off into the forest with her husband and son.

A long ways in, her son, Alakantar, stopped and examined the dense forest around him. In the distance he saw what appeared to be quite a few deer. Now as for what kind, he was unsure of. He held his fist up to signal the others to stop like he had been taught by his father and pointed in a northerly direction. Then he held up five fingers for the number of animals but was stuck when it came to signal for what kind of animals there were as there was no military signal for deer. So improvising a little, he held his hands on his head like antlers much to the delight of Jack who nearly started laughing.

They were trying not to use the radios because they would make too much noise. It was decided that Siri’s skills with telepathy would be the best option. So she was designated as the one who would relay around directions and such as she had that ability and the other two people really weren’t typically hunters.

Siri glanced over to her husband and then to her son, commanding both. Jack, dismount and come in from the east side. Alak, you dismount and take the west. I’ll come in from the south.

Both nodding their heads, Jack and Alakantar did just that and quietly stepped out into their separate directions with Jack loading his shotgun and Alakantar readying his bow and arrow. Meanwhile, Siri approached with her Springfield rifle, ducking behind tree trunks every now and then to stay hidden. She rarely hunted deer and instead treated it like how she would hunt back on her own planet. That was wrong. One of the males picked its head up and noticed her. Damn, she thought and set about yelling into Jack and Alakantar’s minds. Fire!!

A shotgun blast rang out throughout the forest as one of the deer was struck in the head, ripping its skull apart and splattering its contents all over. Meanwhile, a volley of arrows flew in from the other side, hitting one of the deer in the neck and another in the chest. The first crashed to the ground in a heap while the other fled, although not for long considering its injuries. The Springfield rifle caught the fourth in the chest and didn’t stop it. Siri slammed the bolt up and forward and reversed the procedure, setting up another round in the chamber. She fired off the next shot and caught the deer in the back end where it hit the ground and tried to get away. The final one, a buck, took off running.

“Grraaahhh!” Siri yelled in anger before she whistled for her horse.

It immediately came galloping over to her and didn’t stop as she grabbed onto the saddle and flipped herself on to it. Without a second thought, she left her husband and son behind as she rode off in pursuit of the buck.

The Dersconi party heard the gunshots from deeper into the forest. "Looks like someone got one." They heard running from that direction and Tarakh chuckled.

"Evidentally not. John, you want this one?" The Prince bowed.

"I would be honoured." He told the Darase to go forward and it did so, much faster than even a racing stallion could ever dream to match, practically leaping from the ground.

John was concentrating solely on the deer, and didn't notice Siri trailing it. He finally caught a glimpse of the deer back further in the woods. I have you now.

His Darase and the deer played a game of chicken, waiting to see who hit first. The Darase let out a supersonic scream, sending the deer into a frenzy, and then used its one hoof to kick a massive rock at the deer's head, stunning it.

When they were close enough, John stood up on his Darase, pulled out the strange handle-like thing, and jumped off the Dragon-horse, doing a front flip in the air, practically flying. He pulled out the overly-large handle and spun it around, igniting it. It was, in fact, a double-bladed lightsabre, coloured a crimson red. He did another flip in the air, breaking it in two (it was made to be a double-blade or a duel-weild), the one in his right hand shrinking a bit, as the Prince was left-hand dominant. Right when he was about to land on the deer, he did a circle-cut with the blades, decapitating the deer, but fusing the organs and what-not of the now exposed neck, so no blood was let out. The Prince hit the ground on a perfect landing, crouching down to absorb the shock. He disengaged his lightsaber, reattached them, and put them back under his robes. The Prince picked up the head and admired it.

"Fourteen-pointer. Not a bad catch." His Darase came up and nuzzled him a bit, invoking John to pet the Dragon-Horse. It neighed/roared, and a few seconds later Tarakh and his girlfriend came up. Tarakh laughed.

"Not a bad catch." Miharu giggled.

"There's bigger around Eastern Derscon." Prince John shrugged.

"True, but it's still not bad. It's a keeper." Tarakh jumped down and grabbed ahold of the deer.

"I'll take it from here. Miharu gets the next one." The Dersconi-Pschycotian beamed, and helped her boyfriend load the deer onto his Darase.

"You two go on ahead, I thought I heard something back that way."

"Alrighty. Come on!" Tarakh helped Niharu onto her Darase and they went off deeper into the woods. John took his time mounting, and stayed, observing the dark woods.

Deja vu. He shook it off, but couldn't help but be transfixed.

The squirrel was having a very interesting discussion with his rabbit neighbor about the effects of quantum relativity theory on nuts. If they were able to spin a nut at just the right speed, why, they'd be able to surpass the speed of light. Unfortunately for the squirrel and the rabbit, they had not counted on the presence of John Melkovich and company.

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"No, I think I had best switch to the shotgun. I absolutely refuse to shoot something that's smaller than the bullet I'm killing it with. Not sportsmanlike at all," explained John Melkovich as he prepared to return the anti-material rifle to his mount.

"No no, sir, you forgot to count the squirrel's tail. He's a good couple inches longer than the round with that tail," replied Paul Adams.

"I guess you're right Gunny," laughed the Lord Protector, easily 'talked into' probably the greatest example of overkill to date. Sighting carefully, he adjusted for distance and wind, and slowly squeezed the trigger...

Neither of them ever saw it coming. Travelling at well over the speed of sound, the anti-tank round slammed into the squirrel, briefly carrying it along before the physical shock and massive acceleration caused it to disintegrate, spraying tiny bits of flesh and blood across the scenery. The sheer force of the round's travel ripped apart the rabbit as well, laying it out like some macabre anatomy lesson.

Trotting closer, Melkovich dismounted at the scene of the kill. Amazingly, the squirrel's bushy tail had been left intact at the scene of the impact.

"I think this will do for a suitable trophy."

Kenshin and Taiki rode through the woods, seeking out game. The sun's light playing through the trees cast a light green shade over Taiki's read and black armor, and made his already wild hair seem to illuminate. The effect was funnier on Kenshin's helmed head, though. While it played the same on his red, blue, and gold armor, it reflected off the gold headcrest on his helm, making his head resemble a street lamp. As they were laughing about this, they spied a large moose on a rocky outcropping a short distance away. The pair stopped and became as silent as still as the moose. Then, without a sound, Taiki pulled an arrow out of the quiver on his back. Attached to the arrow was a large coil of rope. Leaning over to the tree next to him, he tied it around the tree and nocked the arrow in his large longbow. He silently pulled it back and sighted down the shaft, aiming for the moose's large flank. He stayed frozen for near a minute, making minute adjustments to his aim for the wind, and then let it loose. The arrow flew straight and stuck into the moose up to the fletching. The beast tried to jerk away, but the barbed arrow and roe yanked him back. Kenshin quickly did the same to a neighboring tree and fired a second arrow at the moose, hitting it in the opposite flank. With no way to escape away from the pair, the moose charged straight at them. Taiki charged straight at it on his horse, unsheathing his tachi in the process. Kenshin lept down from his horse and ran forward after Taiki, who delivered a serious blow, cutting down the side of the moose's body. The moose bucked, yet kept running at Kenshin, who did a horizontal cut down the other side, killing the moose finally, before it even touched the ground. Taiki trotted back and cut off the moose's head as a trophy. They then began draging the body back to a small stream they had found earlier to cook it and rest for the night.

As he watched his wife gallop off into the forest alone, Jack shook his head and thought about how she always got carried away with these things even if it was supposed to be a little hunting trip. He was about to sit down for a moment to wait for her return, but his ears caught the sound of one of the injured deer scrambling to stand up. Not wanting the animal to suffer any longer, he fired one shot from his sidearm to kill it and holstered the weapon back into its rightful place.

“Hey, Dad, why does she always go running off like that?” asked Alakantar who was fastening his bow behind his back once again.

“Eh, it’s what she does,” Jack shrugged. “I keep telling your mother to calm down but she never listens.”

Alakantar laughed. “Well, at least she isn’t tying you to a tree as bait for the bears like last time.”

“Knot very funny. I can bearly stand it when she does this.”

The Drow rolled his eyes at the puns and changed the subject by motioning to the deer lying all on the leaves. “Maybe we should get one of these on a horse to take back with us or something…”

“…and if we can’t carry the rest or get someone else out here to help, we can bury them,” Jack added as the two began to set about cleaning up the mess.

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An angered voice emanated from the darkness of the forest, breaking the silence. “I hope you realize, John, that you almost became a trophy for my wall because of your little stunt. And…I would like to remind you that it was my deer that you had just claimed for yourself.”

The crackling of branches and leaves was heard as the metal shoes of Siri’s horse stepped forward, out into the sunlight. The yellow rays shined down through the trees and upon the back of the elf’s head, darkening her face but reflecting off of the two silver revolvers that she held in her hands still cocked.

Then, she pulled upon the reigns and the horse stepped sideways, closer to the Dersconi. As the light changed to show more of her face, the expression now was now cold with no feeling. “Normally, I would’ve beaten the person who did that senseless and take what is mine…but…you are a friend of mine and Jack’s and I see no reason to let something like this come between us, so I will let it slide this time.” She gently lowered the hammers on each of the revolvers and tucked them neatly inside of her leather coat next to a black ornately carved cylinder of hers. “You certainly know how to handle yourself well with a lightsaber. I can say that I am quite impressed. Where did you get it, John?”

Whoops. John was slightly embarrassed by the current situation. He bowed low to Siri. "My sincerest apologies, milady. I was unaware that it was yours."

As Siri continued to speak, he smirked at her comment. "Why thank you for your words of praise, madame. I practice as much as I can.

"As to where I got it -- and the robes -- it's a family thing. Both these robes and this lightsaber are over six thousand years old. Can you believe it? Six thousand. They belonged to the ancestors of the Rekjyavich household."

Raising an eyebrow in interest, she replied, “I see." She then nodded. "It is very interesting, I must say.”

The explanation that John gave answered very few questions at all and instead, rose even more in her mind. She wanted to know what all this was about and intended to inquire further as long as he was willing to answer.

“John, why would your family have of all things, a lightsaber and the robes of a Dark Lord of the Sith?” Slowly she began to fasten her leather coat together save for the bottom snaps. “These are certainly items that just don’t pop up out of nowhere, and the latter is especially rare to possess from what I have learned."

John nodded. "It is indeed interesting. I found it quite amazing when I found out myself." He exhaled and remounted his Darase when Siri asked her other questions. John smiled.

"I'll tell you what. Meet me come nightfall in the woods. You'll know where, trust me. Until then, happy hunting!" John spun around with his Dragon-Horse and galloped away, linking up with the rest of the Dersconi party.

When he got back, the two lovers stared at him with smug looks.

"It's about time." John shrugged.

"Sorry." They went off deeper into the woods when they came upon a bear, who saw them, and didn't like their presence.

"Miharu? It's yours." She giggled and took the sniper rifle from her back, aiming it at the bear's left eye. It took only one shot to drop it, the bullet going through the eye into the brain, killing it. She beamed and trotted over to the bear with her Darase. Prince John raised an eyebrow.

"Don't get too cocky, now."

Liberty-City

Kazansky’s motorbike tore out onto the Toreau Highway and finally began to pick up speed. In other words, it now became to resemble something like an immense guided anti-tank rocket, almost looking blurred as the contraption dodged between the speeding cars, and made way out of the city.

From the height of the highway, he could see the different neighborhoods – their rooftops, rather. Regular - red, green, blue, pink – slanted house roofs – and others, flat roofs, sharp, spike-like roofs, globe-shaped concrete monsters, anything your mind could imagine. Kazansky loved it – it was Allanea expressed through matter, individualism in concrete and brick.

At some spot or another, he turned the bike sharply and executed what would be a generally illegal stunt even in the United States – being President does help, especially when you need to jump off a highway overpass on an immense four-wheeled bike.

He hit the ground seconds later, the engine roared, and he began to approach a rather small three-story house – the house of Victoria Sheshet.

There were two garages, and in one of them the door was open.

At first, he thought Victoria was lying on her back under a small car. Then, when he approached, the President realized his mistake. “Jesus Christ, is this thing what I think it is?”

From under the miniature spacecraft, the Secretary of State’s voice replied. “If you thought it’s a necron shuttle diorama, why yes it is.”

“Woah.” – the President of the United States of Allanea inspected the scale model up close. It was almost completely painted, and it seemed that Victoria was now painting it’s underside. She was wearing a set of old clothes – a Team Dagger BDU that used to be black – and taking use of what looked like a king size can of modeling paint.

“Wait a second, Alex. I’m working on a sensor ridge here.”

He waited. “So. What’s this going to be?”

“A diorama of a necron shuttle, deploying troops.”

“Troops?”

“Yeah. I’m getting a full on four thousand point army painted. I’ve got several dozen Warriors and Wraiths drying off upstairs, and there are more in boxes right here.”

“You…”

“I ordered most of the necrons and ground stuff from Games Workshop and Forgeworld. You want to hear my opinion, Forgeworld and Games Workshop ought to burn in hell.”

“Word. They’re almost as bad as Special Weapons.”

“I had to get advice from the Eternal Empire’s ambassador on some of the details, though.”

“What? You have access to their ambassador? I don’t have access to the damn scumbag, and I’m the bloody President.”

“You should use your female form more, Alex.”

“Hehe. Anyway, Viccy. I’ve been invited to this hunting lodge in Cherry Ridge, want to tag along with me and the good Colonel?”

“Sure. What will you be hunting with?”

“My M-99 Hunter and the Presidential pistols. And a shotgun of course.”

“Cool. I’ll grab my Remington then.”

“Well, you do have a few hours to get out of these clothes and into something nice.”

“A few hours to change?”

“Yeah. I have a few ideas of what we should do after you take off these clothes and put on the other ones.”

Speaking this, Kazansky took off his T-shirt and threw it into the corner.

* * *

On the next day, Kazansky’s helicopter began to descend onto the Royal Forest grounds. “Hello people. Sorry for being late.”

As Kazansky landed in the helicopter, twenty five Royal Guards came out of hiding. They searched kazansky as his crew for unauthorized weapons, and if they found any, held them until departure time. Since he was late, they pointed in the direction of the woods.

Remain oblivious. Miharu was hiding in a shrubbery, resting the barrel of her Dragunov on a large clump of moss growing on a rock, providing a steady rest. At the moment, the deer was enjoying some fresh grass, clueless as to Death's hovering. Miharu put her crosshairs over the Deer's eye, took in a deep breath....

WHOOMWHOOMWHOOMWHOOMWHOOMWHOOMWHOOM

The deer perked up at Kazansky's helicoptor and ran over the hill, just as Miharu pulled the trigger. THe bullet shattered part of a young tree that was behind where the deer was, making it come crashing down. "Dammit!" She snarled at the landing helicoptor, even though it was a few miles away, it was enough to make her pray escape her. She sighed heavily, sitting up and leaning against a tree. Ten minutes later, Tarakh came by, dragging the deer behind him, a bloody arrow in his other hand. He beamed.

"Check this out." Miharu groaned, pulling her knees into her chest and put her head down, resting on top of her knees. Tarakh cocked his head and went over to his girlfriend, sitting down beside her.

"What's wrong." She glanced at him, smirking, and tackled him.

"That was my deer." They heard a low growl, and looked in that direction, seeing a tiny bear cub. Miharu's eyes softened. "Aww!" She let Tarakh go and sat against the tree again, the bear cub coming up to her, resting in her lap. They heard a low growl again. Miharu was a little nervous at first.

"Probably me," Tarakh said, dismissing it. "I am kinda hungry." Miharu giggled and petted the bear cub a little, it nuzzling her hand and eventually curling up and falling asleep.

Suddenly, a massive red disc shot by them. A slicing sound was heard behind the couple, and the disc shot back. When they followed it, they saw Prince John catching the weapon, disengaging it and putting it back on his belt. He didn't look happy.

"Pay a little more attention to your surroundings." When the couple looked behind them, they saw the decapitated body of a massive mother grizzly bear. Miharu's eyes went wide, and Tarakh looked embarrased. He motioned to Tarakh.

"Haul that this way. It's almost sundown, we need to make camp."

While the other groups were preparing for night, Antonette had no worries. he had sent up a camp earlier.
Timewarp to sunset
Antonette and his group were wandering around the woods, slaughtering small creatures. The hung a rabbit from a tree, and waited. Suddenly, four wolves jumped on the rabit, and the group started cracking up. Antonette pulled a revolver, and aimed at one, and fired. The wolf yelped and Antonette yelled, "I shot on in the ass!" The four angry wolves snarled, and charged the group. They eached pulled the main weapon they were carrying, and Antonette the two revolvers. They fired, and all but the wolf shot in the ass fell. Antonette removed the camp ax, and swung at the nearest, thin, tree. It fell, and hit the wolf in the head. The wolf crashed into the thick tree. Antonette then decapitated it, cleaned the blade, and they rode off once more.

Siri eyed him carefully as he spoke, wondering what was really going on in his mind. She would have just made things simpler by reading his mind, but it was something that she refused to do to anyone who did not know of her powers, especially when she did not know if John had any of his own. The lightsaber scene in particular made her wary of what else he could do.

But, after thinking for a moment, she finally answered him, shortly before he left. “Very well, John. I will see you then. You take care.”

After watching John gallop off deeper into the forest, she tightly gripped the reigns on her black thoroughbred and turned for the opposite direction, hurrying back to her husband and son.

---------------------------------------------------

Hours later, the strong aroma of a still sizzling deer carcass flowed throughout a small campsite and the dense forest surrounding it, carried by the gently moving night air. Little now remained of the animal still dangling from its makeshift rotisserie over the blazing fire for when the family had feasted upon it, in their hunger, they had nearly picked it clean. But the dinner was over, stomachs were full, and the sleeping hours were drawing ever nearer so now they rested around the campfire, catching up on all the things that were going on while they were often busy with running the Corporation. The conversation was kept fairly lighthearted, staying away from the depressing things that were going on back home in the capital city because they all wanted this hunting trip to be a time of relaxation not stress.

But as the night continued to pass, Siri was slowing becoming antsy as she gazed up into the full moon shining brightly in the sky and remembered the conversation before with Prince John. Sighing some, she rose from seat upon a rotted log and grabbed her long black leather coat, gradually putting it on.

Her husband, Jack, glanced up from a stick that he was cutting the branches off of with his knife. “Where you going, honey?”

“A little bit of a meeting, you could call it.” She smiled some, checking her two revolvers to make sure that the explosive rounds were in them. “Don’t worry. I’ll be just fine.” Then, a voice was heard inside Jack’s mind; of course, it was Siri’s. And I’ll explain things later, ok?

Nodding a little, Jack appeared to be wary of what she was going out to do, who she was going to meet, and what it would be about. But he really couldn’t stop her and would not even try to so he gave her a kiss and let her walk off into the forest alone.

John forced his horse to stop as they galloped into their campsite, already set up. He did not like the thought of eating deer, so he pulled a small fishing pole from the tent. Within an hour, they had enough large fish from the large stream for dinner. After dinner, they connected their tents, and pulled their sleeping bags out to the fire, until bed time. Lounging, they all were sipping the "Creature", and basically having a good time. Antonette said he would go for a solitary walk by himself later, just to make sure no one crossed the line into the dangerous area of the forest. There were three strips of barbed wire, which was also gave a strong electric shock. It was not very high, as it was more designed to keep certain things in, than people out.

John looked up at the dark sky, seeing the moon coming up from the horizon. Time to go. He looked over at Tarakh and Miharu, who were sleeping, grabbed the one box, and got on his Darase, riding away quickly but quietly.
_________________________________________________

Prince John eyed the barbed wire up ahead, increasing the speed on his Darase. It made a bit more noise than usual, unfortunately, but it was still relatively quiet. He tapped the side of the Darase with his heel, and it jumped over the barbed wire, clearing it very effectively.

About a mile in, however, the land became very wet. So this was the marsh he was talking about. John dismounted the Darase and patted it on the head. "I'll try not to be too long." With that, he disappeared deep into the bogs.

He finally came across a dry patch of land and settled there, immediately getting to work. Various rocks were arranged in cryptic and ritualistic patterns, forming a very eerie setup, sure to chill anyone to the bone.

John simply waited for a few hours from there, waiting for the moon to come out in force. It was a brilliant full moon, giving a ghostly white tint to the surroundings. About....now.

The moonlight hit the setup in its entirety, causing the beams of light to shoot across the various stone structures, forming a sort of webbing, and they all beamed down into the centre, where John put the box he had. Suddenly, the box erupted into a green fire, the entire box being engulfed. The fire grew much larger, with flashes of blue and pink appearing briefly.

From the fire, a small black pyramid arose and floating above the green fire, the flames licking at the small pyramid.

The fire was about a meter high, the pyramidal object floating not much higher. John stood behind it, facing the enterance to the structure he built, the shadows of the moon and the fire illuminating the robes he wore, het hiding his face. A faint red glow came from where the eyes should have been.....
______________________________________________

As Siri wandered the forest, a voice could be heard inside her head. It was not a voice of a living being, however. It was a raspy, yet forceful voice, calling from something that was assumed annihilated long ago.

Awaken, Siri. Come.

The tranquility of roaming the forest alone after dark was a sensation that Siri had not experienced for nearly three decades. She had missed this feeling of freedom since she moved to the urban environment that made up much of Northrop-Grumman which she always thought was entirely too crowded and noisy for her liking. The hustle and bustle of the nearly six billion people sometimes irritated her and made her wish for the peace that she was experiencing now.

As the many questions plagued her mind, she continued walk, lightly stepping over logs and stones, seemingly wandering about with no purpose. But from nowhere, a strange feeling rose within her, and her head bolted up to hear a voice calling to her. Immediately, she knew that it was not her own father but someone else entirely. Could this be the work of John? she pondered, beginning to grow more concerned about the situation at hand. Something was definitely going on here. Though, as for what, she did not know. But all this would not change anything for she did not want to stray from her course and miss out on solving this mystery.

Gazing out into the darkness surrounding her, she slowly turned her head in each direction and used her powers for the purpose of acting as her guide. North, south, east, and west she looked, straining to find the path she should walk, the place she should go. Then, after only a minute or two, sensing something out of place, she stopped. A great power appeared to emanating from the direction of the bogs. It pulled at her, wanting her to come closer, and she could do nothing more than comply for the curiosity within was stronger than the urge to leave. But she was never one to not exercise caution and pulled back the hammers on both revolvers before setting off towards the bog.

When the elf finally reached the fence, she almost chuckled at the rather pitiful excuse for one. How could that really be useful at all? she mused to herself, examining it closer and noting the low strands of electrified barbed wire. Shaking her head, she took off running, leapt up onto the side of a large tree, and pushed herself off and over the fence, landing gracefully onto the ground on the other side. With merely a shrug, she dusted off her long coat and continued on towards the bogs.

A while later, Siri made a smooth transition from the hard dry land of the forest to the acidic bog with only a mere thought, another one of her unique capabilities. Used to doing this, she made no point of looking down as she stepped across the surface of the water and instead gazed out across the more open area. She could actually see her intended destination, illuminated by an odd green fire. Moving closer, she folded her arms and stood a moderate distance away from who she presumed to be Prince John, watching the scene unfold before her carefully.

OOC: This is meant to have happened at some point in the past, shortly after the rest of you dispersed. However, work, exams, and problems with my connection precluded doing so. Anyway, here's my arrival. :D

As the invitations had been sent, in essence, to everyone who wasn’t an enemy of Cherry Ridge, and as ‘Greater Menelmacar’ (the unofficial nickname of the Menelmacari-Necrontyr allies) didn’t count itself nor wasn’t generally accounted as such an enemy, it arrived. It may seem strange and paradoxical that environmentalist elves like hunting, but they do indeed, though they tend to believe in doing so sparingly. Of course, as (at least it was claimed) the royal forest in question had an overpopulation problem, it was all okay. Supposedly. A more detailed explanation of the ethical stance was of course available in conversation if the topic arose.

The Greater-Menelmacari group that arrived aboard the venerable MIV Gilthoniel was in theory, from two separate nations. Sirithil herself, Glorfindel, lord of the Mornahossë and bodyguard and oft-times aide of Sirithil, one Herufiriemmolië and Idhrindiel – a well known officer of the elite Mornahossë who had been responsible for many victories, represented Menelmacar, officially. The other group was somewhat less high profile. Arnran Selvaran accompanied Ranisath, the Elenaran of ‘the C’tan.’ Arnran who was one of the foremost generals and war leaders of the necrontyr whose various campaigns were well known. The other two however were unknowns, both female; one had the manner of a necrontyr at present, and was dressed immaculately. The final ‘attendant’ was a concession to practicality, rather than there to enjoy the hunt, though there was little doubt that she would she was a short – an effect enhanced by the height of all the others in the group – human woman of obvious Asian extraction, who was frequently the personal cook of the Elentári and her husband – hence her presence among a staff that was for the most part elven.

In essence, they wrote off the size of their group as ‘two separate parties.’

Ranisath was dressed not in his usual finery, but rather, in armour of gold and cerulean robes. Black hair, trimmed back to shoulder length especially for the occasion, was ornamented by an ornate true-silver crown which seemed less of a crown than a laurel wreath, curling and weaving its way from the back of the head as graceful lines that extended forwards to just below the eye line and to the hairline, swirling back on itself as though it had been painted on with languid, abstract brushstrokes. Blue eyes looked out from above high cheekbones that gave a look of undiluted arrogance when his face was in repose, though it rarely was, for he wore a smile perpetually, at times showing off teeth that one would think were the work of an airbrush artist.

The collar of his cloak was ornamented again, it had an ‘elven’ style to it that mirrored the circlet decorating his brow, and it cradled a smooth stone assembled of topaz and sapphire and azurites, all cut into slivers and bonded together invisibly into a whole that could never have been produced naturally. On this circular earth, green tinted azurites merged with jade pieces to suggest minute continents. The coastlines depicted were not easily recognisable though. Gold stood on blue in the rest of his outfit, too, from the hanging head of his cloak, to a long cloth that resembled a catholic priest’s stole, though worn differently, so that it hung at his sides, rather than over his chest, and under the cloak, seeming to stream down from the arms. Here, heavy brocade was indented to a layer of cloth of gold within.

His armour was composed of strips, akin to lorica segmentatum, as wide as his thumb, of a metal that seemed to be golden, but was in fact, slightly off the colour. Indeed, one strange thing about it was that the shadows and reflections didn’t match the environment, as though it absorbed light and emitted it from somewhere else, rather than reflecting it. The strips, instead of being bands around the body, crossed over one another over his chest. These too were engraved with organic patters that resembled twisted boughs. Below the waist they split, to allow riding in relative comfort. The armour seemed to incorporate chain mail, but when one examined it closely, one would notice that it was rather made of tiny scales of some ceramic substance. High leather boots rested in the stirrups of the pure white horse’s saddle he sat on. In truth, they didn’t need horses, him least of all, but they’d been on the list, and so they’d been brought. Sirithil had considered bringing a mûmak, A vast elephant scores of feet high, creatures that existed in the southern continent of Menelmacar, which had been brought there many thousands of years ago from their homelands. Of course, that suggestion was for pure devilment, and it had been pointed out that such a creature wouldn’t much like woodlands, or be especially practical there. Not to mention, it was rather straining the definition of ‘horse.’

One of the more exotic and rarely used items they had brought was held nonchalantly in Ranisath’s right hand was a spear of great antiquity named Aeglos (or alternately, Aiglos), which had been long ago the spear of Gil-galad, and most recently, a gift to Sirithil from the rulers of the nation of Aelosia. The attitude to such relics in Menelmacar was often quite different from that of other cultures. Such things were wasted if never used, despite their fantastic antiquity, they were indeed, frequently improved by some subtle means, to make them more capable than they had been before. Aiglos itself was about eight feet in length, with the top third of its form made of a mithril, an immensely rare metal, and the shaft of some form of wood. Its glittering, ice-like blade, a long, tapering single sided affair showed that it could be used for cutting as well as thrusting. His gloved hands were decorated with several rings, one of which was highly reminiscent of the design on the flag.

Sirithil was on this occasion, dressed to match her husband, except in silver – mithril, even – armor of a similar design, rather than the strange pseudo-gold that Ranisath wore. Similarly, the ‘chainmail’ of this outfit was made of the same true-silver metal, rather than the more modern ceramic affair on Ranisath’s outfit. There was more of it, too. Instead of the cloak, she wore a robe that, from behind, covered her completely, a long ‘V’ hanging down from her shoulders, where the material retained its shape independently for about an inch beyond her natural shoulders. Rather than the gold trim of Ranisath’s clothing, it had a shining crimson which matched her eyes, and the stone over her neck was similar, of ruby and other, likewise colored precious stones, cut into a pattern that appeared to be nothing so much as a fierce flame of reds and oranges blazing within a lens shaped stone. As the light hit it from different directions, as its wearer moved, the flames seemed to leap and crackle against one another.

Unlike her husband, while she did carry (in actuality, her horse carried it in a complicated pattern of straps) something akin to a spear, a staff, it didn’t seem to have any function as a weapon. Alongside this, she even had a shield, what possible use this might be was hard to tell, but given its obviously exceptional workmanship that seemed to blaze with the same fires as the stone over where a cavalryman’s breastplate might be. Despite this, there was an obvious weapon on display, a curved sword not dissimilar from a cavalry sabre, though without the complex guard, with instead, a long two handed grip. Also, along with most of the others, she had what appeared to be an unstrung bow at her side, and a sizeable quiver on the other side of the saddle.

A second C’tan was in the group, Asine’rin, a relative unknown, because she had been recently decanted, was with the group. She seemed to be interested in everything around her, and unlike most of her companions, wasn’t dressed in the showy and hopefully unnecessary armor, but rather in a more practical garb, a change of clothes that most of the others would likely adopt at some point. Rather than excessive armor, she wore several layers of jackets made of hard wearing fabrics, under a long cloak of a dark green that seemed to shift and blend with its background. She too rode a white horse, indeed, the horses appeared to be all identical. Tall, strong, and white-coated, they had a lean swiftness about them that belied their size, though built like chargers, they seemed to behave a little like racehorses.

Asine’rin currently appeared to be a moderately sized elf, just a sliver under six foot, with auburn hair that cascaded down her back and over her shoulders, and flint-grey eyes. Her hair framed a face that was best described as ever so slightly ‘pouty’ with a look of interest permanently written on it. She was examining, sometimes with almost entranced stares, just about everything around her.

Glorfindel of course, wore armor dissimilar similar to that of Sirithil and Ranisath. Instead, his was black as midnight, and despite being metallic, seemed to be as flexible as any fabric. Tall and straight, his hair was of a golden blonde hue, and his manner seemed to exude confidence from his young seeming face to the tips of his muscular fingers. He too wore a ring of note, a circular one with an eight-rayed sun, cut of yellow topaz, on an planed emerald background. Despite all this, he had a look of wisdom about him that was hard to place in his features, which while they seemed dignified, didn’t convey his great age. His manner seemed happy, too, joyful even. His armor was made of three distinct sections, a breastplate that was grooved and patterned in the same way as the Elenaran’s though here the ‘grooves’ were crossed by the quasi-floral lines raised on the galvorn surface of the breastplate. Vertical slats of this armor covered the elf-lord’s midriff, and the hips were embraced by distinct slats over a divided skirt of black ceramic scales. Under all this was a layer of polymorphic living metal – which was, in truth, the most important component – about half an inch thick, studded here and there with exotic-matter heat sinks.

Arnran also had golden hair, though his was actually metallic, not so much hair, as treated gold thread. Unlike the others, his skin was a pale blue color, that came from sapphire blood running in his veins instead. He wore armor not dissimilar to Glorfindel’s, though it was purely for show, and where the elf-lord’s armor was purest slick black, his had white ceramic scales like Ranisath’s. Idhrindiel, alongside him, was dressed identically, though her own hair was short and auburn, and she was of course, an elf of the same pale coloration as the others.

Sharing the same healthy looking skin tone, and the largest of the group, Herufiriemmolië was a necron as well. Like Arnran, he carried a spear-like weapon that seemed to be based on the one carried by Ranisath, but less elaborate by far. Unlike the others, he was dressed in glorious robes of crimson and tea that came to ornately trimmed cuffs of silver and gold.

The last and yes, least (in that her main function there was to do the necessity of cleaning and butchering kills) the human with them, who answered to the name of Sumi, instead of any weapons, she was carrying assorted bits and pieces of equipment for this end. Otherwise, as well as the mentioned arms, most carried bows, and had some kind of pistol (best not asked precisely what kind). Glorfindel and Idhrindiel also had about their persons particularly elaborate weapons that seemed to be rifles.

Alongside, ran a pair of monstrously oversized wolfhounds, with grey coats, named respectively Alcacarca and Andacara. These, like the spear Ranisath carried, had been gifts from Aelosia, where their breed flourished (or at least, presumably still did) as companions of the Everqueen, descendents of Huan of old, the greatest of the Hounds of Valinor.

OOC: o rly? :p

I know, I'm behind in...basaically all of my threads, and I apologize. But, Siri's reason is also my own.

A bowstring twanged, strung twisted hairs snapping elastically as it propelled a thin arrow through the air. The arrow zipped through the air, and sailed over the head of a stag, that blinked and propelled itself into motion on its hooves. The arrow smacked into a tree, punching through the bark and sending splinters flying as it disappeared, head, shaft and feather into the bole of the large tree.

“Damn!” Ranisath snapped, everyone there laughed, even him. “I can hit just fine if I manipulate the arrow in flight.”

“I believe that’s called cheating. Anyone can hit when they do that,” Glorfindel said.

“Anyone can hit if they have millennia of practice,” Ranisath chuckled.

“A fair argument,” Glorfindel said, and leaned forwards. Now dressed in forest green and grey, a camouflage cloak hanging from his shoulders. “Ah. Another…” He said, and the others looked over in the indicated direction. A doe ambled into view, looking rather oblivious.

He took his bow from the side of the horse, stung it in a smooth motion that could only be described as expert, drawing an arrow from beside it with his ring and little fingers, and, drawing the bow like that, loosed it.

The arrow twitched, and sailed over the deer’s head, skimming its fur. He blinked in surprise, then looked at Ranisath, “You big cheating bastard,” he said, and stared sternly for a moment, drawing another arrow, and punching it straight through the deer’s head as it ran, the arrow snapping the deer’s head towards Glorfindel as it punched out of the other side. He didn’t take his eyes off Ranisath as he did so.

OOC no elaborate excuse for my late posting, I was asked my Ctany to hold off on posting till his and Siri’s arrival then I was away and lost track of the thread and the fact Siri had posted I would still be grateful if we could pretend my party arrived in time with the rest of the main group. Of course a sensible person would have been writing his arrival anyway so it was ready for posting the moment Siri posted...

I'm not sensible so it wasn't till I'd finished that I realised I didn't really do a very good job of describing Iyanna's features etc or for making it clear to those who didn't know me, that I am playing Eldar so my people look like the most arrogant Elf you can imagine.

IC
For a Farseer of the Kionash to deign to attend a Mon-Keigh function with whom they had had little formal contact with the parties throwing the event he or she had to have a reason. For the High Farseer of the Kionash of Tor Yvresse to do so, the reason had to be a powerful one. In this case that reason for her attendance had occurred the day before. It had came due to a simple request, while Iyanna Arienal was the leader of the Council of Farseer’s that guided Yvresse life, and while she was indeed the ruler, as others would look upon it, of some 6 Billion Plus Keigh there where still some people to whom she needed to show respect to.

One of those was the leader of a small troupe of ‘Harlequins’ whom had established themselves onboard the Craftworld some time ago, a rare honour for the Yvresse people, it was rare for the Harlequins to spend so long in one place, in many ways therefore the presence of even a small troupe raised the prestige and standing of the Yvresse amongst Keigh society immensely but it placed certain obligations upon the Council. One of those was they had to listen to the requests of the Harlequin’s and be accommodating hosts. While Iyanna still ruled Yvresse she listened and tried to meet the needs of the Harlequins, in turn they listened and tried to meet her needs. Neither ruled the other, but both needed the other.

The Request of the ancient being before her had been a simple one, he wished for one of his people to have a chance to observe the Yngir Ranisath and his wife the Noldor Lady Sirithil in a social setting, both of these people had brought about an almost undreamt of opportunity the Harlequins needed to understand if the dream could become reality. While it would be Ranisath who wrought the change it was the Lady Sirithil who appeared to have made it possible, they needed to see if this was the case.

Fortunate then that one of the Mon-keigh would be so accommodating to the needs of the Keigh as to arrange a hunt, one in which the peoples of interest would be attendance. Such an opportunity was not to be wasted, if it meant a few unpleasant days traipsing in the woods under a natural sky, pulling Iyanna away from the role of a Farseer it was a small price to pay for accommodating the Harlequins.

So it was Iyanna boarded her own craft her entourage was perhaps the strangest collection of people off on a hunt. She herself wore an ancient suit of armour, it clung to her almost as silk, flowing in place yet rigid in others. Nothing about it’s appearance was that of armour yet it protected her more surely than the best constructed Power suits of the many species out there. It seemed to almost glow with inner light and reflected power. The Armour of Vaul, she rarely left Yvresse without it, in many ways she was fortunate that such a protection was available to her, as it seemed to fit most occasions. Preparing herself for the hunt was easy, as she pulled out an old friend, a Spear it too was a lesser artefact of the Keigh. She had borne this even before she was a Farseer, and it felt like a part of her. Although in recent years she had placed it aside, in favour of the blade she almost added to her equipment before placing it aside, no it would be a wasteful addition to this trip, a foolish risk. With that choice made she drew a a different weapon. Far younger than the previous sword, this one had been hers since the day she became a Farseer, it was hers, and a better tool on this journey.

As she sat preparing herself for the difficult time ahead of her she grimaced, she was not looking forward to this. It was not the thought of speaking to Ranisath or the Lady Sirithil that bothered her, nor truly being in the presence of Mon-Keigh, she had long gotten over that instinctive distaste, it was the idea of bringing Harlequins into a Yngir’s presence. This would not end in smiles all round and new formed friendships that much she knew. Still he sat opposite her, an almost garish mesh of colours, at rest his clothing deactivated the Actor, Dancer, Historian, Ritualist, Killer watched and waited he too was armed most strangely for the hunt. His arm concealed the historical weapon of the Harlequin, the Kiss. Belted to his side was a Power sword, and that was all he carried, as she took this in Iyanna shook her head ‘No’ she at last spoke.

‘We go to fit into the Mon-Keigh and you will look the part, we go to hunt game, and so you will take a Rifle Ellery’caledor or we shall not depart.’
Nodding his assent the man rose and seized one from the craft’s stores.

Iyanna debated her next choice of entourage, but in the end she almost laughed at the choice she made, unlike herself and the Harlequin this man carried few weapons, and those he did he did not carry as through they came naturally to him, he moved almost clumsily as his race viewed such things, he seemed ill at ease and distracted. That is as he sat in the vehicle dressed in light clothing he appeared such, around him was scattered the collected kit of Iyanna’s group, and a suit of ‘armour’ large vanes stood out of a helmet attached to the suit. The man was Bone-singer, the engineers of the Keigh, he was there to ensure Iyanna’s stay on the foreign world would be a comfortable one.

The last of Iyanna’s guests would be picked up enroute, a ranger, an Outcast, one forbidden to walk the halls of Yvresse until she put aside that path. She was like many of her kind a wild element, a true survivor of the wilderness, and servant of her people, Bel-Shanaar was the only real hunter of the group. A weather worn cloak shifted in the light obscuring her form a well worn, and cared for Sniper’s Rifle slung over her shoulder, an old friend, a well used tool. The woman’s strong long almost unkempt hair hid most of her features, as seemed deliberate, this was obviously a person used to attempting to pass others by and remain hidden.

The human being is a predator. It has been such from the era of the spear-wielding savage that hunted mammoths and dinosaurs, and has remained such through the age of the musket, the rifle, and the plasma pistol. All attempts to destroy the predator in man have always failed – producing at best psychotics, and at worst – guilt-ridden creatures possessing less spine then a common garden slug.

As predators, humans continue to hunt, even when it is not any longer physically necessary for their survival. One of these humans (to the extent that she is human), at the moment, is Victoria Sheshet. Right now, she is sitting in a deer stand somewhere in the vast hunting preserve of the Ridgian king.

She was waiting. The buck moved slowly, slowly through the underbrush, failing so far to disclose a proper profile to the shooter. But it would. Victoria knew it would. Every instinct in her soul and body told her so.

The deer began to turn. Sheshet placed her finger on the trigger of the Remington M700 PSS rifle. Another second… and she fire.

The heavy molycoated round tore through the deer’s jugular with the kind precision people only expect from a custom-loaded cartridge. She thanked herself for making the effort to make the cartridge herself, and began to get off the tree. It would be a long walk.

She sprinted the distance between her and the buck, and it was still warm, blood still pulsing from the freshly-dead body. Victoria knelt before the deer and looked it in it’s eyes, checking that it was truly dead, and there was no need of a second shot. There wasn’t.

And then she set straight to work. Namely, she hung the deer from a tree branch with a piece of thin wire, and, with two motions of her knife, made two incisions in it’s throat, letting the remaining blood siphon off. She stood back, trying not to get any of it on her clothes, and waited patiently.

When the blood flow ebbed off, the Secretary of State made a swift motion with her knife, slitting the animal’s skin on its belly neatly. At that point she proceeded to use the knife to loosen the skin from the meat, starting at the ankles. She had her work almost literally cut out for her, but she enjoyed it. Unlike some other hunters, the Secretary did not believe in having other people skin the deer for her.

In fact, she would say it ruins the whole point.