# The Tashiri of Telanoth (Action Thread)



## Midge913

*The Tashiri of Telanoth*​ 

As the sun rises on Telanoth, one cannot help but be taken aback by the beauty and majesty of the countryside. Miles upon miles of uninterrupted forrests cover the landscape in a verdan green that never seems to dull even in the winter months. Travelling westward from the coasts of the Amarinthine Sea one would come across the first of the great Fortress Countries, the great walled kingdoms of the remaining free people of Telanoth, Deidre. By taking the Shellnorn Gate westward away from Deidre, six days travel on the dangerous roads of the wilds, you will find yourself at the Walls of Borkan, the Jewel of Telanoth. The seat of the Council of Nine and the House of Lords, the place of power.​ 
Walking through the streets of Borkan's main city, Riasa, one cannot help but gawk and the splendor and majesty of the place. Even as you walk through the poor areas of the city toward the captial compound, the buildings are well made, solid, as if fused with the very ground the rest one. Moving into the inner city, passing through the Radan's Threshold, one will find the streets paved with seemless gold flecked marble as if the stone itself had been grown there. Boulevards are separated by elegant gardens, dutifully tended by flocks of young people in drab grey robes. Elaborate marble fountains adorn all of the intersections, casting reflected light onto the buildings that surround the squares.​ 
It is here in the center of the city that one walks into the shadow of the Talaisarat, the Temple of the Winds, the home of the Tashiri. Floating several hundred feet above the golden domes and crystal spires of the Council Hall this massive structure houses the training chambers, grounds, living quarters, and leadership of the Free Peoples greatest weapon against the darkness that surrounds them on all sides, the elite Nature Warriors of the Tashiri Order. The only way to the Floating Temple is on litters borne by Tashiri Aria, Wind Walkers. Flying high above the city of cities you will be dropped in the entrance hall, compared to the grandure of the city below the hall feels almost cold and barren. Things here in the Talaisart are functional, decoration is not needed. The temple itself seems to be created from a giant piece of marble, fused and shaped over centuries by Tashiri Terra, the Earth Walkers, grown to be an indestructable bastion, the first and last line of defense against the Magoth and their allies.​ 
In the far Northwest corner of the Temple you will find the living quarters of the Tashiri Warriors, and here is where we begin our tale.​ 
ALL: In separate rites of passage you all have passed your trials to become full members of the order. After your trials you were wisked away and lead to the Warriors Quarters that will be your new homes. Each of you is lead to a nice size room, though sparsely furnished as all of the Talaisarat, you find it is functional and comfortable. There is a desk with writing implements, a bed, a large Armoire that is big enough to hold all of your equipment, and a fire place that is lit adding light and warmth to the room. The serf that lead you to the room tells you that your personal belongings, few that they are, have already been brought to the room. He also instructs you that you are to remove the grey robe of the you wore during your apprenticeship, and done the traditional ivory garb of the Tashiri. You will find that your armoire contains several of these outfits as well as your weapons, armor, books, and any other personal belongings that you would have wanted to keep. He says that there will be a formal ceremony at sundown to welcome you to the order officially. Remember that your training has been quite and ordeal, lasting between 8 and 15 years for some, so in your characters reactions keep this in mind.​ 
Sven(Therizza): During your Rite you where required to Track a group of about 8 Nerim, small tough skinned troll-kin that frequent the hilly forrest to the northwest of Borkan. These foul creatures are known to ambush travellers on the roads between the Fortress Countries. You were taken in the middle of the night from your room and lead to a location on the Unaren Pass that leads north to Hardagan. You were shown a decimated Merchants carriage, and the remains of the mercenaries and the merchant, most of which had signs that they had been fed upon, and told to track the beasts and eradicate them. All that you had available to you was your Fury Craft and skill at arms. After finding them you find that they have a live prisoner that they are torturing. Describe briefly the challenge, how you felt about its completion. You are then free to occupy your time anyway that you like between now and the Ceremonial Feast several hours from now. Looking out of your room down the hallway you see that there are many doors that appear to lead to rooms just like yours. Perhaps you should explore a bit and introduce yourself to other Warriors of the order.​ 
Robb(Lord Ramo): When you arrive in your room the first thing that you notice is that there is a large package on your desk. You look quizzically at the serf who lead you here who merely indicates that the package had been held for you for sometime and only now that you have passed your trials were you permitted to have it. Opening the box you will find a brilliant shirt of Mithril chainmail and a close fitting steel helm whose face guard is sculpted in the form of a snarling wolf. Attached to the Mithril shirt is a short note that says, "For use in battles to come. I am proud of you my son." -Father Thinking back to your trial, you reflect on the fact that you were required to fight 8 normal swordsman to exhaustion, while blind folded, using only your Fury enhanced abilities to guide you. You took only a superficial cut to the upper shoulder during the excersise, while the other swords men were left bruised, bloodied, and beaten by your skills. How does this superiority over ordinary warriors sit with you? How do you feel about the outcome of the trial? Does receiving this gift from your father stir any feelings of regret or homesickness? You are then free to occupy your time anyway that you like between now and the Ceremonial Feast several hours from now. Looking out of your room down the hallway you see that there are many doors that appear to lead to rooms just like yours. 
Perhaps you should explore a bit and introduce yourself to other Warriors of the order.​ 
Viktor(CaptainFatty):As you arrive in your room, soot covered and weary, you listen to the instructions from the serf. As he departs and you begin to clean yourself up you reflect back on your own challenge. You were awoken at day break and shuffled off to the the northwest side of the city where there were several homes on fire, nearly a city block is enveloped in the conflagration. You are instructed to use your skills and assist the other Fire and Water Walkers working on containing the blaze. For several hours you help fight the roaring fire calling upon the local furies to help shrink and contain the fires as the Water Walkers use their talents to extinguish it. As you strain against the power of the flames, you hear a cry from inside one of the buildings that recently took to flame, you hear a woman screaming and several children crying. Describe what you did and how it made you feel to help those less fortunate than ourself. Does this experience provide any context for you as far as your relationship with the people that your are now tasked to protect? How does your character feel about the fact that while you were able to save the children you could not save the woman? You trainers praise your act of heorism and finally deem you worthy of ascension to full warrior. How do you feel about the fact that your trial was one of personal choices rather than a display of Fury Crafting? You are then free to occupy your time anyway that you like between now and the Ceremonial Feast several hours from now. Looking out of your room down the hallway you see that there are many doors that appear to lead to rooms just like yours. Perhaps you should explore a bit and introduce yourself to other Warriors of the order.​ 
Solomon(Bane_of_Kings):You are lead back to your room stunned at what you just experienced during your trial. You vaguely hear the Serf tell you about the Ceremonial Feast as your thoughts stray to the badly injured man that was brought to the Temple for healing. He had been stabbed and nearly disembolwed during a robbery and you were tasked to his care. Describe the experience as you first reach out with your furies to examine the man's injury as he lays in one of the healing tubs. How did it make you feel to use your Telepathic Abilities to sooth the man during the process? How did it feel to experience his pain and panic so accutely? Describe the difficulty of the healing as this was the worst injury that you have yet to deal with. How did it make you feel to see this sort of violence visited on another for no reason? Finally the healing was finished and the man's life saved. How does this accomplishment make you feel? You are then free to occupy your time anyway that you like between now and the Ceremonial Feast several hours from now. Looking out of your room down the hallway you see that there are many doors that appear to lead to rooms just like yours. Perhaps you should explore a bit and introduce yourself to other Warriors of the order.​ 
Zacarish(Santaire): As you return to your room you thank the serf for guiding you to your quarters and acknowledge the command to appear at the Ceremonial feast later. You begin to reflect on your recently completed challenge to pass into full membership within the order. You remember being awoken in the early hours of the morning and taken out the west wall surrounding Borkan. You were told that several Water Walkers had received advanced warning that a large group of Vicery, the insectiod race that inhabits the barren Deserts surrounding the land of Namanole, had taken wing and that the swarm was advancing towards Borkan. You were tasked to accompany several other Tashiri Aria to engage them in aerial battle before the swarm could make it to the city proper, hopefully thinning their numbers enough for the normal city guard to fend of the assault. (for your reference the winged warrior caste of the Vicery looks like this guy with four slender dragon fly type wings) Briefly describe the battle. You took injury to your right shoulder from one of the Vicery biting you with its mandibles, describe how you managed the injury. You made a good accounting of yourself and your instructors were pleased with your performance. You killed 6-10 of the Vicery over the 5 hours of hit and run engagements. You recall the trepidation that your fellow warriors felt at your presence, clearly thinking you an outsider as a Dark Elf. How did that make you feel? Did you find it difficult to fight and fly at the same time in a real battle as it is a skill not easily mastered? How do you feel about your accomplishment of passing the trials. You remember passing another of the rooms in this corridor as you were lead to your own and you recognize the occupant, a High Elf woman, that you remember seeing during the aerial battle with the Vicery, and you remembering overhearing a conversation between her and one of the senior Tashiri that indicated that she had also just passed her trials. Perhaps you should go back down the hall and introduce yourself.​ 
Djinn(djinn24): You are lead, soot stained and drenched in sweat, to your room by a serf who tells you about the Ceremonial Feast at sundown. As you start to clean yourself up for the feast you reflect on the trial that you just endured. You were awoken in the early hours of the morning and sent to the West wall with several other Tashiri Ignus and Terra as well as several archers from the ranks of the Tashiri Flora, Wood Walkers, in preparation to meet a swarm of Vicery that was reported to be on its way. You are informed that a group of Wind Walkers had already engaged the swarm as it journeyed north west out of the Sina Wastes, and that even though the Tashiri Aria were harring the swarm its numbers were still vast. You note with some concern that your masters and other full fledged warriors comment on the fact that they hadn't seen a swarm this size for several years. Soon you hear the low thrum of insect wings. There are nearly 75 of the Vicery left as the approach the walls, with a good half of those felled by the superb marksman ship of the Tashiri Flora. Breifly describe what you do to participate in the skirmish. As was expected the Vicery are no match for the numbers of Tashiri that are resisting them but several do make the walls. You manage to kill 5-6 with blasts of flame and you deal with 1 in close quarters combat. Describe how you feel when your masters indicate that you have performed well enough to advance in rank to full membership. Describe the strain of using your abilities in the midst of a real battle, small though it was. How did the strain of using blasts of fire effect your ability to fight subsequently in close combat? You remember passing another of the rooms in this corridor as you were lead to your own and you recognize the occupant, a Wood Elf, that you remember seeing on the wall during the fight with the Vicery, and you remembering overhearing a conversation between this Elf and one of the senior Tashiri that indicated that the Elf had also just passed his trials. Perhaps you should go back down the hall and introduce yourself.​ 
Aalrik(Apidude): You are lead to your room and thank the serf as he tells you of the Ceremonial Feast and turns to depart. You hear his foot falls fade down the corridor and you reflect on the experience that you just had. You were awoken early in the morning and you are sent to the West wall with several other Tashiri Flora, Wood Walkers, as well as a contingent of Tashiri Terra and Ignus in preparation to meet a swarm of Vicery that was reported to be on its way. You are informed that a group of Wind Walkers had already engaged the swarm as it journey north west out of the Sina Wastes, and that even though the Tashiri Aria that were harring the swarm its numbers were still vast. You note with some concern that your masters and other full fledged warriors comment on the fact that they hadn't seen a swarm this size for several years. Soon you hear the low thrum of insect wings. You look down the wall and see that the Fire Walkers begin to uncap several large fire pots working the contents up into a fire storm in communion with the Fire Furies contained there in. This is the first time that you have seen Fire Walkers truely work their craft in battle, how does it sit with you? What does your character make of the utter destruction Fire Walkers bring to bear? You don't get to think on this much as the Vicery decend toward the wall in a rabid fury. You are able to take out 4-5 at range with your bow, including a single close quarters shot, before you are forced to draw your swords to deal with the remainin Vicery that tries to gut you. Your masters are pleased with your performance and courage in a real skirmish and say they are glad to welcome one of your skills into the order. How does this decision make your character feel? Is your character surprised by the fatigue that settles on you after using your skills in battle. You remember passing another of the rooms in this corridor as you were lead to your own and you recognize the occupant, a Human, that you remember seeing on the wall during the fight with the Vicery, and you remembering overhearing a conversation between this man and one of the senior Tashiri that indicated that he had also just passed his trials. Perhaps you should go back down the hall and introduce yourself.​ 
Isira(Jackinator): You are lead to your room by a serf of the Order and you listen as he tells you of the Ceremonial Feast that will commence at sundown. As you enter your new quarters you begin to reflect on the path that brought you here and on the challenge that you just faced to attain full status within the Order. You remember being awoken in the early hours of the morning and taken out the west wall surrounding Borkan. You were told that several Water Walkers had received advanced warning that a large group of Vicery, the insectiod race that inhabits the barren Deserts surrounding the land of Namanole, had taken wing and that the swarm was advancing towards Borkan. You were tasked to accompany several other Tashiri Aria to engage them in aerial battle before the swarm could make it to the city proper, hopefully thinning their numbers enough for the normal city guard to fend of the assault. (for your reference the winged warrior caste of the Vicery looks like this guy with four slender dragon fly type wings) Briefly describe the battle. You make a good accounting of yourself and your instructors are pleased with your performance. You killed 6-10 of the Vicery over the 5 hours of hit and run engagements. Describe how it felt to be tested in battle. Did you find it tiring to maintain flight and fight at the same time as it isn't an easy skill to master? How does it feel to finally realize your true potential as a Warrior of the Tashiri after so many years of struggle? What does this accomplishment mean to you? You remember passing another of the rooms in this corridor as you were lead to your own and you recognize the occupant, a Dark Elf, that you remember seeing during the aerial battle with the Vicery, and you remembering overhearing a conversation between this man and one of the senior Tashiri that indicated that he had also just passed his trials. Perhaps you should go back down the hall and introduce yourself.​ 
Mar'akash(Vaz): As you are lead to your room by a serf of the Order, he tells you of the Ceremonial Feast that will be held in honor of newly raised Warriors at sundown. Acknowledging and dismissing the servant you think back on the challenge you just endured. Several days ago you were collected from your apprentices quarters and shuffled of to the south wall surrounding Borkan. There has been a request for aid to the temple from the ruling parties of Ioleth that they send some Tashiri to assist in an urgent matter. Your instructor indicates that you are to join the hunting party as they seek out and destroy a kre'loch, http://i267.photobucket.com/albums/ii313/jokerwitahatchet/Fantasy-Dragons-BlackDragonWallpape.jpg?, is about the size and girth of a large draft horse not including the wings. Does not have breath attacks, and its perferred method of kill is to grasp its prey tightly to its chest, that is covered in razor sharp spines, flaying it to death.) one of the twisted drake like creatures that came roiling out of the shadow lands with the appearance during the time of Joining. According to the missive this beast has been terrorizing the farmlands in Ioleth and causing destruction and loss. You are told that while the Kre'loch is not a dangerous as some of its cousins, its preferred aerie is one that is unreachable save by flight, and it is believed to be roosting in the southern most foot hills of the Carpascale mountains. The hunting party locates the beast and ends up slaying it in a vicous aerial battle. Describe briefly your involvment in the battle. How taxing was it to use your abilities in battle after the long flight to get there? When you return to the Talaisarat you are told that you have progressed enough in your abilities to be raised to full Warrior status. what does your character think of that based on his background with the Zeyphr Riders? You are then free to occupy your time anyway that you like between now and the Ceremonial Feast several hours from now. Looking out of your room down the hallway you see that there are many doors that appear to lead to rooms just like yours. Perhaps you should explore a bit and introduce yourself to other Warriors of the order.​ 
Adam(Serpion5): As you are lead back to your room by one of the Order's serfs he tells you of the Ceremonial Feast that will take place at sundown. After he departs you are left alone to change and prepare for the banquet and your thoughts stray to the task you just completed to attain Warrior status. A known service that the Tashiri perform is the retrival of lost and stolen goods. Due to their superb tracking abilities and unique gifts a Tashiri is excellently suited for these types of missions. A request has been passed down from a family in the city of Dulle (pronounced doo-LAY) that one of the local thieves bands broke into their business and stole all of their worldly possessions. The story has been verified by Water Walkers of the Order and you are dispatched to infiltrate the thieves hideout unseen, disable them, retrieve the goods, and alert the cities guard to their where abouts. Through the assistance of your own furies and dozens of local furies that come to your aid, you are successful in this mission. Upon your return to Borkan you are told by your instructors that your training is complete and that they are pleased with your performance. Briefly describe the incident. How does your character feel about the subterfuge that he just participated in? It has been years since you have been a position like that and how does your character react to the ease at which he eluded the thieves sentries due the increase in his abilities from so many years ago? How do you feel about the fact that you have finally finished your training? You are then free to occupy your time anyway that you like between now and the Ceremonial Feast several hours from now. Looking out of your room down the hallway you see that there are many doors that appear to lead to rooms just like yours. Perhaps you should explore a bit and introduce yourself to other Warriors of the order.​ 
OOC: This post is for some character developement and to provide the rest of the players some background on who you are and how you operate. Have fun with it.​


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## Bane_of_Kings

HE HAD FINALLY passed his trials, completed the rights of initation, and done everything that the Young Tashiri had needed to accomplish before being granted the rank of a full member of the Order. 

Solomon smiled, still stunned from the trials, keeping his twin blades attached beneath his wrists as the water wielder was lead to his warrior's quaters. Realising that this would be the first 'permanent home' that he would now live in, the twenty-five year old shared little regret of the fact that he never would have a home to return to - not since it had been burnt down by thieves and scavengers - by cowards. Finding himself in a nicely sized room, Lok took in the sparsely furnished design with little caring for it. On one wall there stood a desk with writing equiqments, and opposite it stood a bed capable of supporting himself.

Next to the desk, Solomon noticed a large Armoire (*A/N:* _Is this spelt Armory, by any chance?_) that was capable of holding all of his belongings. Not that he had much other than his weapons, anyway. Noticing that what objects he had were already there, with the exception of his hidden blades, he heard the flickering flames that had spawned from a nearby fireplace - their only goal to give heat to the room around him.

"Mister Lok," the serf, who had introduced Solomon to the room, addressed the Tashiri directly. "You will have no doubt noticed by now that your belongings have already been brought up to this room, and placed in the Armorie. I have also been requested to tell you that you must remove your robes and replace it with the traditional ivory outfit of the Tashiri, which you will find-"

He held up his hand to silence the man's questions, "Is already in the Armoire. And I think my buisness is concluded here. Just remember to come to the formal ceremony at sundown where you will be offically inducted into the Order."

Solomon wasn't paying attention any more, for his thoughts had drifted back to the badly injured man that had been brought to the temple for healing. Naturally, being a water-user with the power to heal great wounds, he had healed the man whom had been injured during the robbery. 

It was in that time that he had first reached out with his furies, to examine the man's injuries as he laid in the healing tubs. Using the telepathic abilites to sooth the man's pain had been a challenge, and he had nearly cried out upon experiencing his pains.

However, he held it in to the best of his abilities, and the man had been cured. This was a tremendous challenge, easily the hardest person that he had to heal to this date, and was hoping that he would never find somebody with worsened wounds. 

But nonetheless, Solomon had saved another life. That was an acomplishement, as he had vowed never to see somebody die a death that could have be prevented by him, especially after his parents had died. If only he had been... _stronger._

The injuries of the man had reminded him of how his parents had died, which had pained the newly inducted Tashiri almost as badly as the injures that he had suffered. Sighing, the man watched the serf leave, and realising he had some free time before sundown, Lok stepped out of his room and glanced down the corridor outside. There were other rooms, most likely filled with applicants, but he did not want to meet them yet. Part of him was still nervous when it came to meeting new people, and the other part was that he didn't want to meet anybody who could eventually betray him in the future.

So, turning around, he walked calmly back into his room before plonking himself on his desk, and started to write something, a recount of today's events. Since the beginning of his inductions, he had decided that he would record as many events as he would be allowed to. So, write he would. Remembering to detach his twin blades first, Solomon's left hand moved as ink splashed against the page.


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## Santaire

Zacarish walked into his room and muttered a brief thanks to the serf and nodded his head silently at the request for him to go to the ceremonial feast later. He stared at the serf but managed to keep his mouth shut when he heard the man say that he should get rid of the grey robe he had worn as an apprentice and don the traditional Tashiri warrior garb. He had known he had passed his trials but hearing it said made the gravity of the accomplishment hit home. Before anything else he walked to his Armoire and placed his weapons in it. He took off his scale armour and leather breastplate and hung them in the Armoire. After that he pulled off the robe and pulled on the clothes worn by all true Tashiri. He picked up the metal blades in the robe using his powers and slid them into the thicker parts of his new clothes. It would be dangerous to remove them without his powers he knew for without the special leather glove deep in his bag the blades would cut open his palm easily.

He turned and walked to his desk, sitting at the chair. He reflected on the day’s events and what he had done to pass his trials...
___________________________________________

He had been woken early and taken with several Wind Tashiri to the walls. They had been told that told that several Water Walkers had received advanced warning that a large group of Vicery had taken wing and that the swarm was advancing towards Borkan. They had engaged them in aerial battle before the swarm could make it to the city proper, hopefully thinning their numbers enough for the normal city guard to fend of the assault.

Zacarish had made a decent account of himself during the battle. Although he had taken a wound to the shoulder early on that had slowed him down he had managed to fight on despite it, still managing to take out 7 of the beasts. He had used ‘Chablys’ to deadly effect. The extra length of the blade had given him an advantage. Fighting while flying was difficult to master for breezes could take you by surprise if you weren't careful. The 5 hours of hit and run attacks had taken it out of him. Not being a true air mage he had found it more difficult to control his powers than some of the others.

His metal powers had been useful for he had used the furies that increased his swordsman skill to help him fend off 3 of the creatures until the air furies increased his speed so that he could kill them. He had gained one of his other kills with his dagger and his final three using Metal Storm. His instructors had been pleased with his performance and that in turn had pleased him. A few of the warrior who fought alongside him had expressed some trepidation at the fact that he was a Dark Elf and one had even had the nerve to question his dedication. The fool had shut up after Zacarish had saved his life, smashing the Vicery out of the sky before stabbing it with his dagger, claiming his fourth kill.
___________________________________________

Zacarish's mind returned to the present and he stood up. He had a warm feeling brought about by the passing of his trials and the ending of his 13 year training but also nervousness and trepidation of what was to come. He remembered seeing a High Elf woman in a room he had passed earlier who had partaken in the battle. He also remembered it being mentioned that she had recently passed her trials too. He left his room and walked down the corridor. Stopping outside her door he knocked on it gently...


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## Jackinator

*Isira*

The serf had showed her to her room and explained her new situation. She was a full Tashiri! She'd passed her trials and the bundle on the desk was the confirmation of that. She nodded a silent thanks to the serf who bowed and left the room then she slowly unfolded the uniform. She slipped out of her clothing and stood for a second, savouring the moment, then she dressed in the uniform of a tashiri, pants, shirt, then finally settling the red sash proudly about her waist. She sat down on the bed, her back against the wall and pulled her legs up, her arms around her knees as her mind was irresistably drawn back to the events that had earned her this honour.
_____________________________________________________________

She was woken at the crack of dawn and rushed out of the trainee dormitories, the water walkers had learned of a large group of Vicery that were enroute to the city and the group of them had to slow them down and thin them out before they reached the city.

The insectoid warriors seemed to fill the horizon as Isira and her fellow wind walkers made to head them off and the noise of battle was vicious. The unintelligible chittering and clicking of the Vicery lending a sinister undertone to the fighting. She had soared into the swarms vanguard rapier out stretched, taking one of the creatures through the chest with her first blow. She tried to tug it free but the blade stuck and the two of them plummeted towards the ground, she struggled, finally wrenching it out of the corpse and pushing off back into the fight. She kicked another in the chest while her rapier ripped through it's throat and she flexed her palm, knocking another two out of the air with a fierce blast of wind, calming the winds around her and hovering as she watched their limp falls fall to the earth far below.

She suddenly let herself drop as she heard another coming in behind her, slashing wildly at the blurred figure flying past and severing one of the wings from it's body. Cursing for allowing to let herself be distracted she ignored this one and soared straight up, sheathing her rapier as she went. She ended up high above the battlefield and drew her knives, eyeing them for a second before launching herself downwards. She whirled as she fell, and feeling her knives encounter resistance she slowed her fall, seeing another two Vicery fall out of the air, seeing that they had reached the range of the walls she floated down to the ground, landing softly and watching as the city garrison made short work of the remaining Vicery. They fell quickly and propelled herself back to the walls, and from there to the temple.
_____________________________________________________________

She was startled out of her reverie by a knock at the door, one hand flashed to her boot, her fingers resting mere milimetres from the knife concealed there. She answered hesitantly, "yes?"


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## Santaire

Zacarish heard a hesitant voice answer him. "Yes," the voice said. He opened the door fully and saw the young High Elf woman sitting on her bed. She held her hand near her boot and, calling upon the ability he had learned he was able to discern the knife hidden there. "You will not need the blade," he said, palms held open, "I merely wished to talk about the battle earlier. I noticed you there." The woman looked startled and moved her hand a little further away from the hilt of the dagger in her boot. He smiled briefly "I can sense Metal, one of my talents. I need not do anything to see it now that I have learnt the skill." The High Elf woman smiled briefly and shyly in return and relaxed slightly, but still kept her hand near the blade. She opened her mouth to answer him.


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## Jackinator

*Isira*

An tall dark elf opened the door, his eyes were red and stood out sharply against his coal black skin. His appearance was unsettling, but his smile seemed friendly. "You will not need the blade, I merely wished to talk about the battle earlier. I noticed you there." She was startled about his knowledge until he explained himself, "I can sense Metal, one of my talents. I need not do anything to see it now that I have learnt the skill."

She moved her hand a little further away from her boot, but left her arms crossed over, her hands resting on her knees, still in reach of the knives sheathed in her boots. He seemd alright but she had learned better than to let her guard down. She smiled nervously at the tall elf, he seemed nice enough, despite his intimidating appearance. And she had a while before the feast, making a friend couldn't hurt. She sat up a little more against the wall and spoke hesitantly, "I'm Isira, what did you want to talk about?"


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## Djinn24

The sight of the Vicrey cause a slight shiver as they come into sight. There are to many for me to handle alone, but I feel the presence of my masters close by observing what I plan on doing. As they move closer I can feel the heat in my blood rise as I recall the powers that I have been trained to use for many years. Is this a test, or the test I wonder to myself. As the first of the Vicrey move into distance I fling my hand out, a pure ball of fire is flung from my out stretched fingers, burning one out of the sky. I repeat this several more time, each time my aim true and striking down an enemy. Soon they are upon me and I can feel the strength of my power diminished so I take to blade, pulling out the twin scimitars from my back and beginning my deadly dance. The Vicrey proved to be a skilled, darting back and forth and parrying my blades. Eventually my felt the blade strike true and one fell. To either side I see others like me and farther down the wall, the Wood Walkers are taking arms against them as well, with bows and other fearsome weapons.

After the battle a serf came to me and told me to follow him. He leads me into the castle, to a part that full members of the orders live. He leads me to an door with the emblems of fire scribe upon them and opens the door. I begin to feel the soot and sweat on my skin as the serf informs me of a ceremony starting at sundown and that my new robes lay in the amoire in the room. The room was a good size, large enough to practice most of my skills but relatively barren, which suited me. On the way to the room I did notice another apprentice who had seemed to have passed his trials today as well. A woodelf, a wood walker as I recall. 

I decide to freshen up and if I have time stop by and speak with my neighbor. I believe he was also at the attack today.


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## Therizza

“These are your quarters, Earth Walker,” the serf said as he opened the door to Sven’s room. Walking through the room, the serf continued;“You will find all of your belongings in the armoire. You are to shed the garb of the neophyte and don the trappings of the Tashiri.” As he approached the door to leave, the serf left Sven with one last thing; “The induction ceremony will begin at sundown, please do not be late.” With that, the serf was through the door and gone. 

Sven took out the ivory garb of the fully fledged Tashiri and placed it on the bed. The sight of it brought a smile to Sven’s face. The journey had been long, but through patience and diligence Sven had completed his training and the Rite, just as his trainer had said he would. Sven changed into the robe and tied the red sash of his station around his waist. Tucking his beard into the sash, Sven decided not to put the boots on just yet, as he wanted to _feel_ the room and surroundings better. He had to meditate on recent events.

Sitting cross legged on the floor, Sven closed his eyes, focusing on the ground and walls of the room. Thoughts of the Rite flooded to the fore. 

Roused from his slumber, he was taken to the site of a massacre. The wounds on the gnawed upon corpses of a travelling merchant and his bodyguard were still fresh, and Sven knew that it was the work of a Nerim band. Told to track and eliminate them, Sven did so with much relish, hoping the families of the slain men would have some solace knowing that the perpetrators of this crime had met a grizzly end.

Sven could sense his prey’s footsteps, for anything travelling on land could be tracked by an Earth Walker. Sven followed the band for several hours, taking shortcuts wherever possible, until he finally fell upon them. The Nerim were camped in a shallow cave at the bottom of a ravine, and Sven would make them pay. Silently, Sven approached the cave entrance. Knocking one of the Nerim posted as a guard flat on his back with a stone he had hurled, Sven charged in, “Avalanche” poised to crush the others skull. Timing it perfectly, he stomped the already disoriented Nerim on the ground’s head in and brought “Avalanche” down in a powerful two hand swing, shattering the other’s spine where it stood.

Entering the cave, Sven could hear the screams of a woman. Charging in before any more harm could befall her, Sven leapt upon the Nerim closest the prisoner. Bowling him over, Sven landed a punch as hard as granite, blood and brains splattering everywhere. Beckoning the prisoner to follow him, Sven reached within himself and the earth and placing his palm flat on the floor, caused the solid stone of the cave to become as quicksand. The remaining Nerim sank to their knees before Sven let the stone solidify. Quickly extricating himself and the prisoner from the cave, he told her to stand back. Summoning up the greatest of his powers, Sven slammed both of his fists into the earth, the ensuing earthquake sealed the cave and the Nerim had been neutralized.

Done with his meditations on the Rite of passage, Sven felt refreshed. Standing up, he walked to the doorway and peering out, saw another Tashiri. Walking forward, Sven intended to introduce himself and perhaps exchange a few stories with his new family. Sven always enjoyed a good story…


----------



## CaptainFatty

Viktor was tired. Once he got to his room, the instructions of the serf were barely listened to, thoughts of getting himself cleaned and rested filling his mind. One thing that did stand out, and make Viktor smile, was that he was to remove the apprentices outfit and put on the traditional Tashiri outfit. He was a warrior now, after fourteen long hard years of mastering his abilities he was finally there. Although it didn't feel like he had earned it. There was no glorious battle, no bringing burning hatred and light to the darkness outside, just a large conflagration inside the city. Looking back though filled him with pride as he remembered saving the lives of three children. He removed his clothing and began to wipe himself clean, reflecting on the events that led to his ascension.

_The fire, the largest one he had ever seen, had engulfed several buildings, almost the whole block. With a group of other fire and water walkers, he was tasked with containing and extinguishing the blaze. It was hard, having to decrease the size of a fire that large, and he strained himself several times over the hours until the fire was completely gone. About an hour in he heard a cry, a piercing scream coming from one of the houses – there was someone alive in there and it was his job to get them out. He ran through the streets, his ability to ignore the heat of the flames pushed to it's limits and he could feel his body warming up. As he got close to the building he could hear crying, the screams of children. The woman could not be heard any more. His heart racing, he dived through the window, the flames licking his robe. The heat in the living room would have been unbearable to any normal person and the children, unable to escape because of the burning door, were screaming in pain. One of them had already passed out, Viktor unable to tell if he was alive or not. He struggled against the flames, temporarily reducing them to bearable levels if only for a few minutes. He realised he was almost out of time as the roof of the next room collapsed, filling it with burning debris. A fireball aimed at the door destroyed it, it's already weakened form unable to take the force of the attack. Then they ran, the unconscious child over his shoulder, the ran as fast as they could towards the edge of the flames. One of the children was crying for his mother, sinking Viktor's heart. There was no way she would have made it in that building. He quickly herded them towards the water walkers so they could check their wounds and went back to fighting the fire, noticing the approving grin on the face of one of the masters._

It had felt good, saving the lives of the people like that. He still would have preferred to fight though, the blaze could have easily been contained by the others. But then the children would have been found too late. He growled as the conflicting thoughts swirled around in his head. It didn't matter now, he was here, he was a full warrior and there would be a ceremony for him, and others, at sundown. He needed to clear his mind.

Grabbing the warhammer from the armoir, he began to repeat one of the many forms he had learned from his book. The strict movements and heavy swings came easy to him now, having trained with the weapon over the years of his training. He slammed the weapon into his hand and bowed, signifying the end of the form. He placed the hammer back into the armoir and decided to meet his fellow Tashiri, his thoughts calm for now. Walking out of his room, he spotted another figure looking out of his doorway. A dwarf from the looks of things, Viktor smiled and walked up to him as he did the same.

“Hi, I'm Viktor,” was all he said as he held out his hand towards the dwarf.


----------



## Therizza

Walking down the hallway, still barefoot, Sven could sense the other Tashiri within their rooms. He would have time enough, and soon at that, to meet them all. Throughout the years of isolation in the mountains during training, Sven had yearned to finally become a full fledged Tashiri, to walk that path with a group of peers. He loved his training partners and leader like family, but this new chapter of his life would be much more meaningful. Together, these warriors would fight, and perhaps die, but for something they believed in.


Sven could see another standing down the hall, a human by the look of him. Sven wondered what path he walked, and would soon find out. Nearing the stranger, Sven reached out his hand to shake. “Greetings friend, I am Sven Ironson, Earth Walker. What might your name be and which path do you walk?” The stranger grasped his hand in a firm shake and introduced himself…


----------



## Santaire

"I'm Isira, what did you want to talk about?" The woman responded hesitantly sitting up a little more against the wall. "I heard a serf mention that you have recently become a Tashiri and I saw you in the fight. How difficult did you find it? How long have you been training? It took me 13 years to master my powers and complete a deed great enough to become a true Tashiri warrior. To talk to the furies I can sense takes a lot of concentration for me normally, especialy since I wield the power of both Metal and Air," Zacarish replied instinctively.

"I respect the power of magic but I am still more trusting of my weapons. It is a heritage thing," Zacarish shrugged. "My father raised me to be a warrior and nothing else and as such I sometimes find my power difficult to use with the exception of when I am angry. When I am truly furious all metal that does not belong to me rusts and snaps. That has happened twice and I pray that there will not be a third time. Do you trust me?" This question was added on, almost as an afterthought but it was a serious thing to ask "just because I noticed that some of the people we fought with doubted my dedication to our cause, thinking I only wanted to kill and they were wrong. Did you think that?"


----------



## Lord Ramo

Robb was lead to his new quarters by a serf. He was elated about being a full warrior now, his 16 years of training were finally complete. Since he was eight had he been training, learning to master the elements of metal, and he had truly become a warrior with the aid of these skills. The serf brought him into his fairly nicely furnished room, compared to his old room anyway. While he had little in the way of possessions he had a writing desk, ink, armoire and various other items in there. 

He listened as the young serf told him that all of his possessions had been taken and put in the armoire, and that he should don the traditional colours of the order now that he was a full member. Robb simply nodded at this before he noticed a package on his bed. He walked over to it as the serf spoke about tonight he would be formally welcomed into the order. *"Thank you for showing me to my room, and the information you have passed on to me. I think I have it from here."* He said, smiling at the serf until he left the room.

Robb carefully unfolded the packaging, a note slipping out onto the bed. he recognized it as his fathers writing, and it spoke of how proud he was at him graduating, as well as saying there were gifts for him in the packaging. Robb thought briefly about his father, whilst he did regret leaving him, his place was here. Robb was an outsider, as much as anyone liked to pretend in his family. But here, here he could be himself with others like him, this was his new family now. 

Robb slowly unfolded the rest of the packaging, marveling at the sight that befell him. A pure untouched sheet of mithril chainmail gleamed up at him, he had sensed that it was metal when he walked into the room, but this was an exquisite present. It was light and strong, and would complement his fighting style a lot. The next gift made Robb's face light up like a rare jewel. A gleaming steel helm faced up at him, a snarling wolf as its image. His father always knew that he had thought a lot about wolves, his own fury was a wolf and the image on his shield was that of a wolf.

Robb couldn't believe his luck, he had been honoured by his father with these gifts. He carefully placed them in their section of the armoire, next to his dagger. He slipped out of his robe quickly, before donning what was know his colours. He had no need of the chainmail yet, but he donned the Ivory coloured trousers and shirt of the order. He pulled on his boots, slipping his dagger into its sheath inside before turning to his most prized possession. Fang. Fang was his sword, an extension to his body due to his unearthly skills with a blade. He had forged fang himself, and had used it as often as he could. He always took loving care of it throughout his trials and his mind drifted back to a particular one.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Robb felt the icy cold wind slam against his still form, the howls of wolves in the distance. His master of metal stood behind him, overseeing this particular trial. He could feel Terros, his wolf guardian eyes on him, knowing that it would leap in whether he wanted to or not if it thought his life was threatened. Terros was a constant companion to Robb, and complemented his metal skills as it was also partially metal. 

Robb could only see black, the blindfold covered his sight as he waited patiently. He could feel the eight swords around him, eight swords ready to bite into his flesh. His challenge was simple, fight with only his enhanced abilities with metal, beat these ordinary swordsmen. He could sense each shard of metal and waited until the first attack came, a man charging wordlessly from behind him. Robb turned, sidestepping the downward blow as he felt the metal in the air, it would be hard to catch him off guard. He ducked as another swung for his head, rolling underneath his sword as he drew Fang. 

Robb charged forward, blocking a blow from one sword before dodging around another as he slammed his steel flat on a man's face. It would leave a bruise, but would not do any lasting damage. As the man reeled back Robb touched his sword, warping and twisting the metal so that it smashed and exploded in a hail of shards. He launched forward, delivering a stinging cut to the man's back before kicking him over, one down seven to go. The next two were easy, Robb using his ability to hurl the little shards into the two men that charged him with a flick of his hand, causing tons of little cuts all over their bodies. The two men cursed as the fell to the floor, obviously that had thought he would be an easy target.

Three charged him at once, and Robb met their charge, always flowing and weaving through their swords, in return slashing with Fang where ever it was possible. These swordsmen weren't bad swordsmen, but Robb was something else entirely. They couldn't touch him, he was able to feel the metal, where it would strike him and how to avoid it. He was a blur of movement as he felled this three, one managing to have a small cut land on his shoulder. The wind stung at the small wound, though Robb ignored it. It wasn't painful and was inconsequential. 

The last two were nervous, almost afraid. They used very defensive style's but Robb broke through in a matter of seconds. Bare moments had passed between the start of the fight, and Robb ending it, once again showing his powers of metal.
---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Robb was brought back to reality, strapping Fang to his waist as he donned his sash. He was ready to meet his fellows that had passed, obviously they had passed as they were in the warriors quarters. He was proud of his abilities, though he would never admit it to the outside world. He didn't like being arrogant so therefore was as modest as possible. He exited his room, sensing the metals shift as his fellows introduced themselves to each other. A dwarf and a man stood in the corridor, exchanging greetings. He walked over to them, respectfully introducing himself. *"Sorry to intrude brothers in your convosation. I am Robb Eckardson, metal walker, i'm just trying to familiarize myself with my new brothers, you are?*" He asked, keeping his tone polite, though his hand rested on his sword, as it always did when he had it strapped to him. He didn't do it to be threatening, it just came naturally.


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam*

Adam looked around and dismissed the serf with a courteous nod as he stepped further into the small chamber. Some might consider this room cramped and subnstandard, but given the life he had before coming to the temple it was a welcome change. The life of a thief had been trying and dishonest, but that was long behind him now. Or at least he had thought it to be. 

The final test had involved so many of his thievery skills that for much of it he had felt as though he was a young boy again. He had been forced to infiltrate and evade detection, and when push had come to shove they had basically been stealing. Stealing from thieves, so technically retrieval, but the act had been the same. They had broken, entered, and taken what was within. It was all for a good cause, but it still felt dishonest. In truth, Adam cared little. After all, the thieves had had the ability to steal and had done so of their own volition. Why didn`t matter, nor did the reason for why they needed to be retrieved. 

Adam had little moral compass to speak of, what he did he did because he either needed to or had no reason not to. If serving as a protector gave a measure of protection in itself, then he would gladly do it. Collateral damage was a fact of life and Adam remembered several of the thieves had fear in their eyes before he had killed them. 

It almost amused him that they had not simply accepted their fate. Some had tried to flee, but few were those able to outrun a windwalker as skilled as he was. 

When his instructors had told him that he had passed his final test, he had simply nodded and accepted his new title with indifference. It was an accomplishment to be sure, but one that also came with greater responsibility. People would expect more of him now, people would look up to him as a leader and protector. He cared for none of them as individuals, as long as the greater part of society remained secure then he was doing his job. 

He looked around the room some more. There was a desk with writing implements on it, a simple bed and a cabinet near the corner of the room. He walked over and examined the cabinet, opening it carefully. Several of his new uniforms were inside, as well as his scimitar and a spare suit of leather armour. He smiled approvingly. Though he claimed not to care, he was proud of his own achievement. Walking back to the doorway, he glanced outside and looked around. Other rooms like his must have been here judging by the spacing of the doorways. Further down the corridor there were people engaged in conversation. Other Tashiri diciples perhaps? 

He left the door open. Frankly he didn`t feel like striking up a conversation, but wouldn`t shy away if any of the others felt like introducing themselves.


----------



## CaptainFatty

The dwarf approached and held out his hand, which Viktor met with a firm shake. He was wearing the uniform of the Tashiri, his beard tucked underneath the red sash, but something was different, wrong. It took him a few minutes to realise that the dwarf was barefoot, the reason or which he was about to find out. “Greetings friend, I am Sven Ironson, Earth Walker. What might your name be and which path do you walk?” Viktor smiled back, nodding his head as Sven spoke.

“Viktor Smirnov, fire walker. Damn good one too.” Viktor let out a small laugh at the boast before continuing. “I heard about the battle on the west wall. Were you a part of that?” Before they could continue, another man walked up to them, also one of the new warriors. One thing Viktor did notice was that the man was armed despite being in the safety of the floating temple. Whether the man saw his puzzled look or not, he didn't seem to show it as he gave a polite greeting. "Sorry to intrude brothers in your conversation. I am Robb Eckardson, metal walker, I'm just trying to familiarize myself with my new brothers, you are?"

“Not intruding at all, I'm Viktor Smirnov, fire walker. Worried an ambush might get you?” Viktor couldn't help but comment on the sword, the peculiarity of carrying it at a time and place like this was slightly confusing to him, unless the man wanted to seem threatening. Either way Viktor's curiosity demanded an answer.


----------



## Therizza

“Well met, Viktor. Of the battle on the west wall, I know little, aside from some fleeting words while heading to my chambers of Vicery. A job more fitting of an air walker methinks!” With that Sven let out a hearty laugh. “A fire walker you say? Tell me of your trial, and I will tell of mine.”

Just then, another approached. Sven had sensed him vaguely approaching, and the man introduced himself as Robb Eckardson, a metal walker. Viktor seemed a bit concerned with the sword on Robb’s hip, but Sven understood old habits died hard. He wasn’t wearing shoes after all.

Sven fixed Robb with a firm handshake; “Pleasure to meet you, Robb Eckardson, metal walker. I am Sven Ironson, earth walker. We’re exchanging stories, and would be honored to hear yours.” As the group exchanged tales of training and their trials, Sven decided these two weren’t half bad. It would be a pleasure to fight alongside them.


----------



## apidude

*A new beginning....*

FWUMP …

Aalrik jumped, startled by the concussion that shook the fortress wall beneath his feet.

FWUMP … FWUMP … FWUMP

Aalrik felt the air itself blown outward as more of the soul shaking explosions shook the wall as Tashiri Ignus released more of the furies of the cauldrons and he watched balls of blue flame climb toward the approaching swarm, leaving a trail of light grey smoke rising to end in their flaming points. Tashiri Aria, small dots of color against the larger black of the swarm, scattered outward away from the enemy as they too heard the dull explosions on the ground.

As the flames entered the swarm there were sharp reports and the fire blossomed out in slow motion, raining sparks of flame onto the swarm where they clung, searing the Vicery's wings and melting their chitaneous armor. Flaming insects fell to the earth and shriveled in the flames. The fields where they fell caught fire, sending columns of smoke into the air, making archery work difficult.

Aalrik grasped the bowstring and leaned into the bow, nocking his crooked thumb into the hollow beneath his ear and reached to the furies of the bow and the arrow. He let his senses expand as he had been drilled. He sensed the eddies in the smoke and heard the yelling of the serfs below as they fought the grass fires. He focused as Ailesin had taught on the entire situation and, in the tendrils of smoke around the walls he began to see patterns in the way the smoke swirled as the Vicery flew and disturbed the rising flow of hot air. He found he could track their flight from the disturbances of the smoke. 

Aligning the furies of the bow and the arrow with the center of one of the disturbances, he released into the cloud. The heavy arrow with armor piercing point, driven by the 150 lb draw of the bow, sped into the smoke, the fury of the arrow’s wood seeking the center of the target – the joint between the head and the thorax of the Vicery. All his senses awake for the slightest sign, he loosed five more arrows into the grey smoke. Six Vicery fell to the grass fires below and writhed as the flames consumed them.

Then, there was no more time. He dropped his bow and with a quick crosschested draw, pulled Zilphos and Aor to guard. Two of the surviving Vicery sped over him and returned to hover above him, wary of the blades, but thrumming their anger. They drifted apart, separating to force him to fight two targets. Then they both swooped, clawed limbs trying to ensnare him and pull him from the walls.

Spinning, his blades weaving a constant cutting pattern around him, Aalrik danced along the parapet. Zilphos sliced through the forelimbs of the first Vicery while Aor severed the second’s abdomen from its thorax. The abdomen fell with a thud to the courtyard below and convulsed, driving its sting into the ground below. Small drops of venom dripped from its tip and sizzled against the stone of the yard. 

Aalrik brought the two blades to bear on the first Vicery again. It hovered, its multiple eyes glittering, and its amputated arms scrabbling at its side, then it sped away from the walls and vanished into the smoke.

As Aalrik turned to look for more enemies, he heard an angry thrum from the smoke and lept to one side, sweeping both blades into the Vicery who had sped out of the thickest smoke, aiming its stinger at the back of Aalrik’s neck.

It stopped, its body pinned to the wood of the parapet by his blades. Aalrik kicked its head from its body, breaking the thin neck. It's wings flurried and it's abdomen curled trying to sting him in its death throes, then it stopped moving. He pulled his blades loose and opened his senses again….

------

“I beg your pardon, Tashiri, but you really should wash and change from your rather disgusting apprentice garb into your Tashiri uniform. It is a big day as I am sure you are aware and you look terrible. What IS that stuff on your robes? Would you like help?”

Aalrik blinked, startled out of the memory. Before him was an elderly human, looking at him with one eyebrow slightly lifted and the hint of a smile touching his eyes.

Aalrik chuckled, “No, thank you, although I appreciate the offer. I can manage.”

The man did smile and gave a short nod of his head.
“You have about two hours before the final ceremony that recognizes your completion of your training. I have made sure that the bath water is the correct temperature, although, I dare say, you know how to adjust it by now. There are clean towels and your apprentice’s locker has been moved with all your belongings to this room from your apprentice carrel. If you like, I can unpack for you while you bathe.”

Aalrik laughed out loud, “You are bound to play this out, aren’t you Demetrius?”

Now there was no longer a hint of a smile as the elderly man grinned widely.

“Of course, Tashiri. As of today, you are no longer Aalrik the lad who was my friend when I was a boy, but Aalrik, the Elven Tashiri Flora, who has passed all these years of mentoring and training and testing and trials. Ailisean would swear and complain, but he would have been very proud of you. I want to shout it from your window, but am afraid some of the other Tashiri might take offense.”

“Yes, you are right. Many of them faced the training alone and started much later than I. From the time I arrived, you were always there, as well as Ailisean before he was killed. Most of the rest left their families behind while what became my family has been here in the Temple throughout the training. ”

Demetrius snapped open the lock of the footlocker and absently began to remove items and put them into the large armoire. “I still remember how pale you were when they brought you into the Temple. I was sure that you were going to die. I think, looking back, the healer himself worried that you might have lost too much blood by the time the patrol found you and got you to the temple but your parents were extremely important Tashiri Flora. I remember they brought Master Healer, Herotious, himself out of the hospital to you and he worked in the courtyard for over an hour before you were strong enough even to move into the infirmary. I’ve never seen a boy, elf or human or dwarf, of 5 years so near to death. I can still see the image clearly after all these years.” 

His eyes stared at something he saw in the distance, then shook his head.

“Enough memory! You bathe. I will get these things put away and get your clothes out for you, but I draw the line at dressing you…unless you order it, Tashiri.” He said with a rebellious glint in his eye.

“No,” Aalrik laughed. “I would not have you dress me for all the gifts of the Tashiri. You’d probably put the sash on backwards or leave the buttons loose so that the pants would fall when I bowed to the ladies. I will bathe and then go meet some of the other Tashiri, in particular, the Tashiri Ignus, I saw on the wall helping in the battle with the Vicery. I had never seen them explode fire into the air the way they did. If I hadn’t seen them preparing the cauldrons of fire and been told that it was possible, I’d have not believed it.”


----------



## Lord Ramo

Robb walked over to the two Tashiri who had already introduced themselves to each other before he sent out his greeting. If these were the people he was destined to fight alongside, and possibly even die alongside, then he wanted to get to know their characters as quickly as he could. The first Tashiri eyed his weapon for a moment, painfully obvious for both him and the other companion to the convosation.

“Not intruding at all, I'm Viktor Smirnov, fire walker. Worried an ambush might get you?” The one that eyed his weapon said, a hint of irony lacing through the comment. Robb let out a loud laugh before he responded to him, *"Viktor, a pleasure to meet you. I am afraid its not fear of an ambush, I'm attracted to metal like a moth is too light! I carry this weapon, my constant companion as old habits die hard, one I believe our friend here knows about."* He indicated with a hand to the dwarfs feet, a smile on his face to show he was just trying to be friendly. 

The dwarf offered him his hand as he introduced himself to Robb, “Pleasure to meet you, Robb Eckardson, metal walker. I am Sven Ironson, earth walker. We’re exchanging stories, and would be honored to hear yours.” An earth walker? That would help to explain the lack of boots. Robb smiled as he extended his hand a shook the dwarfs rock hard hand, with an equally firm handshake of his own. *"A pleasure Sven, I think between us we all have plenty of tales to share, and a unique insight into the other nature paths."*

He thought quickly about his new companions, the dwarf was friendly and seemed fairly dependable, like most dwarfs. Both he and Viktor would be worthy Tashiri to fight alongside, and Robb could only hope that the rest of his companions were like these two.


----------



## CaptainFatty

“A fire walker you say? Tell me of your trial, and I will tell of mine.” Viktor smiled. It would be good to talk to others who weren't part of his training group. It had been so long since he had a good chance to talk to someone new. He waited for Sven and Robb to greet each other before he started to speak, recounting his tale.

“Well, I'm not much of a story teller but here it is. You probably saw the huge cloud of smoke to the north east? It was a fire, almost a whole block consumed by flame. It was up to a group of fire and water walkers to put it out. Let me tell you something, putting out a huge fire is a lot harder than starting one, and the heat even got to me. Anyway, about an hour or so in, I hear a scream coming from one of the buildings and assumed someone was trapped. I ran closer and could hear crying. Children it was. So I break in, blow down the door and help the children escape. I...” he stumbled over this part, remembering the woman's scream and how he never found her in the building. “I couldn't get the woman, I think it was their mother. But the masters decided to reward me with this. It felt like it took forever to get the fire out but we got it. Saved a few people...removed the dead. Man I never want to see anything like that inside the city again. Vicery and other monsters can all burn for all I care, but innocents like that? Well, that's my tale, I think it's your turn now.” Viktor tried to hide his uneasiness at having to recount some of the memories. The children crying, the blackened, barely recognizable corpse of someone’s brother. He tried to recompose himself and waited for the dwarf to speak.


----------



## apidude

Bathed and wearing the flowing garb of the Tashiri which Demetrius had insisted on inspecting and adjusting before he left the room, Aalrik left the old man working on stowing his things and stepped into the hallway, looking for the other Tashiri. As he left he heard the old man muttering, "After all these years, you'd think he'd care how he looked."

There were three Tashiri in the hall, a dwarf with no shoes, and two humans, one carrying a sword. Their new uniforms all were neat and spotless and seemed to be buttoned properly. Aalrik quickly checked the buttons in the back of the uniform. It would be like Demetrius to deliberately leave key ones loose, but today he had behaved. All was fastened properly.

The three were conversing. He wondered if he should interrupt, then decided that now was the time to meet three of his new Tashiri brothers. Time was short, the increasing number of those gifted with Tashiri furies in the world proved as much. 

He stepped forward, hands up and palms out toward them in greeting.

"Good day, brothers. I am Aalrik Faengoede, Wood Walker, like you raised to the Tashiri today. Tell me your names and your skills, for I feel we will know each other very well, very soon, unless I am badly mistaken."


----------



## Jackinator

"Do you trust me?" The question was almost an afterthought but there was something more behind it, "just because I noticed that some of the people we fought with doubted my dedication to our cause, thinking I only wanted to kill and they were wrong. Did you think that?"

"What?" The suddeness of the question had caught her off guard and Isira found herself flustered, "of... of course not. You are Tashiri, you would not be if you could not be trusted." But it was a lie, she didn't trust him, not like that, but then she had grown up knowing that to trust was just to open yourself up for more pain. She had no doubt of his dedication, if he was not then the Tashiri masters would not have elevated him, but to trust him was another step. She could... No! She had to rely on herself, he seemed nice but she knew better than most that looks could be deceiving. She wasn't ready to trust anyone. But she couldn't let the others know that, it might spark resentment, hostility, she spoke again, her voice more confident now. "Of course I trust you," her mind giving practised voice to the lie that slipped easily off her tongue, another habit she had picked up, and one which she still practised, to her own secret shame...


----------



## Therizza

Viktor's story hit home with Sven. He could understand his feelings, thinking how he could have saved the others. Slapping him on the arm, and fixing him with truthful stare Sven spoke; "You did well, brother! You cannot save them all, of this I am sure. But you did all you could, your bravery obviously enough to warrant promotion to Tashiri."

Viktor seemed to calm a bit after this statement, for which Sven was glad. "Now my trial was a rescue mission, but it did not seem so when I began. A caravan had been hit by raiders, and none were found alive at the burning wreckage. I pursued the offenders through the woods until finally I fell upon them. Dispatching two sentries, I proceeded into what seemed like a lair of sorts to find a woman held captive. Who she was, I do not know. Needless to say, I managed to retrieve her from harm and brought the mountain down on the vermin. Hopefully the men who were killed in the caravan's families can find some solace..." Sven trailed off.

A new member of the party had joined, an Elf named Aalrik Faengoede. A wood walker from his introduction, Sven introduced himself. "Sven Ironson, earth walker. Some might even say a barefoot buffoon, but I choose not to listen to those ones. Hopefully you and Viktor can get along... he's a fire walker after all!" Sven always used humour to break the ice and gauge the tension in a new group, and it hadn't failed him yet.


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam*

Well, lying on the bed and making miniature tornadoes had finally lost its appeal, and by the sounds of it, there was increasing chatter outside the chambers. None had yet deigned to attempt any conversation with him, but boredom had crept up on him. He looked over at the desk. A pot of ink and some parchment had been provided, but there was really nothing to write about yet. With an exasperated sigh, he decided to suck it up and go outside. All of these people were Tashiri diciples and he would know them eventually, so really there was no time like the present to learn their names and whatnot. 

He fixed himself one of the simple tunics he found in the wardrobe and walked out into the corridor. There was a group of diciples gathered and discussing, from what he could tell, the last trial. Interesting, he had not thought so many really had been on their final exam this day. 

He approached, unconcioussly making no noise as he walked towards the others. He stopped short of meeting them face to face, letting them finish their conversations.

A dwarf, a woman and even elves caught Adam`s eye. Some faces looked familiar, others did not. 

'So,' He said with a cocky smile. 'How was everybody`s day?'


----------



## apidude

*Aalrik*

Aalrik nodded to the dwarf. As Sven spoke Aalrik noticed another Tashiri silently leave his room and approach the group but pause at the edge of joining in the conversation. 

"Well met, Sven." he said. "A Dwarven Earth Walker, with his feet exposed to the stones and earth, is only a buffoon to those who do not know what they see. I see one who could tell us how many and what type of iron was used to shoe the horses in the courtyard below by what the stones tell his feet. It is my pleasure to meet someone with your gift."

Turning to the others, Aalrik said, "I was on the wall today during the battle and saw the huge flames rise to the sky and explode into long fiery streamers inside the swarm. As it fell, it caught the Vicery and they burned. That was simply amazing! I've never seen anything like that. Viktor, is it? Were you part of the Tashiri that did that? Was that part of your trial?"

The newcomer spoke, a cocky lilt to his voice, "So, How was everybody`s day?"

Turning to the newcomer, Aalrik answered, "It has been a day of trials. It is not every day that I get to fight a swarm of Vicery. I am Aalrik Faengoede, Wood Walker and I am afraid that I only know the names of Sven, Earth Walker, and Viktor, Fire Walker. We were just beginning to share our trials. What is your name and your gift? What was your trial?"


----------



## Lord Ramo

Robb smiled as he listened to Viktor recount his heroics, his test truly had been a challenging one for him, as it would be for most Tashiri recruits. Robb was unsure how he would have felt over the death of the woman, he knew that Viktor had done his utmost to rescue them, he should be respected for that. *"Viktor, that is a formidable tale, and I know you did everything anyone could have done. You are a true hero this day."* He let out a smile at Viktor. Sven also consoled him, noting his achievement. Next the dwarf spoke of his task, a rescue mission it had seemed. Robb felt a twinge of regret as they spoke of their tasks, his had been simple enough, defeat 8 swordsmen. These two, and probably the rest had saved lives today. He had not.

Soon a Woodelf, from the look of it at any rate moved towards the group. He was perfectly dressed and Robb noticed that he checked his uniform quickly, maybe he was trying to make a good impression. Aalrik Faengoede, that was his name. He had introduced himself quickly, Robb inclining his head towards him, *"A pleasure to meet you Aalrik Faengoede. I am Robb Eckardson, Metal Walker."* He greeted him before turning to the others. 

*"Those are all mighty tales, your heroics will live on this day I know. They make my trial look like child's play in comparison. While you got to help people all I had to do was defeat eight swordsmen blindfolded. Since I can sense metal and am a accomplished swordsmen I beat them all with but a scratch to my shoulder, obviously I'm getting slow. The first three were easy, broke ones sword and used the shards to take the other two out. The last five proved a little more challenging, but in the end I prevailed."*

He stopped his tale at an end as he looked at the others. While he may not have saved lives today he had done the best that could have been asked off him in training, and he was sure that he would one day save lives. He had played to his strengths, and if it meant that he would gain recognition through his swordsmanship then so be it, it was what he was for, what he was best at. Another newcomer came over, boldly asking how they were. He didn't introduce himself, something that made Robb wonder for a moment. Aalrik spoke first to him, introducing himself and the other two*. "I am Robb Eckardson, metal walker."* Robb said respectfully nodding his head to the newcomer. Aalrik had already asked his name, there would be little point in him repeating it.


----------



## Santaire

"Of course I trust you," Isira responded, a little hurriedly, Zacarish noted but kept quiet about it. "An honour to meet you," he said and bowed before turning and leaving the room. He entered the corridor and spotted a group of Tashiri standing in the corridor talking to one another. He walked up to them, hearing them talking of their trials and guessed that they were also newly made Tashiri. He spotted a few humans, a barefooted dwarf and a Wood Elf. He walked up to them and bowed slightly in greeting. "I am Zacarish Militis, metal and air walker, at your service," he said and nodded to each of them in turn. "Nice to be appreciated," he said, jokingly as no one had acknowledge him yet, and raised an eyebrow.


----------



## apidude

*Aalrik*

Aalrik turned to look at the Dark Elf that moved with silent swordsman's grace to join them. 

The Dark Elf said with a slight bow, "I am Zacarish Militis, metal and air walker, at your service." he said as he nodded to each of them in turn. "Nice to be appreciated." he said, and raised an eyebrow in what could be interpreted as either mocking or cynical.

Aalrik chose to ignore the eyebrow, reserving judgement. "Welcome, Zacarish Militis. I am Aalrik Faengoede, Wood Walker. As I have just met the others, I will not presume the honor of introducing them. We were sharing the tales of our day of trials and getting to know each other. I spent the afternoon in the battle on the wall against the Vicery. Did you know it is very difficult to shoot targets hidden by smoke? I finally had to target disturbances in the smoke and leave the final strike up to the fury of the arrow and then there were two who used the smoke to cover their attack. I had to use my swords with them."

Aalrik paused, "As to being appreciated, you are Tashiri like us, and for that we honor your gifts. What have you been called to do? Were you in the battle as well or did you have a different trial? Have you met any other new Tashiri we should be getting to know if we are to become a Qalm?"


----------



## Jackinator

*Isira*

"An honour to meet you."

The Dark Elf bowed and then left the room, he seemed a little more guarded than before, he must have noticed something. She watched him leave, cursing herself inwardly. Her first chance at a friend and she'd convinced him she was as prejudiced as the ones that had questioned him originally. She leaned back against the wall and pushed her head against it, hard. Sighing she forced her face her kness, clasping her arms around her legs and hugging them to her before lifting her head again, thumping it back against the wall with more force.

She glanced at the door, seeing it still open she flicked her eyes. The furies responded and the door shut with a slam. It would have been noticed out in the corridor but she didn't care. She stood, easily rising off her bed and drawing the knife from her boot, throwing it straight at the door where it stuck with a resounding thud. She sat down hard at the desk and stared at the smooth fresh wood, how could she mess up so soon?


----------



## Djinn24

I finish cleaning myself and feel refreshed I go and dress myself in loss pant and leather vest and then slide the tunic over my arms and head. Sliding my feet into the soft leather boots. I take my boot knives and slide them in. I leave the rest of my weapons in my wall locker, feeling safe with the fire gem nestled against my chest hanging upon its golden chain.

I hear voice coming from outside and decide to go investigate before the ceremony tonight. I open my door stepping out and spot several including a dwarf and dark elf standing in the hall way.


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam*

_'It has been a day of trials. It is not every day that I get to fight a swarm of Vicery. I am Aalrik Faengoede, Wood Walker and I am afraid that I only know the names of Sven, Earth Walker, and Viktor, Fire Walker. We were just beginning to share our trials. What is your name and your gift? What was your trial?' _

My name would be Adam Jameson, Wind Walker.' Adam replied in response to the question. He nodded politely to the others as Aalrik had introduced them. Sven and Viktor they were, walkers of Earth and Fire respectively. Giving another glance about the place, Adam nodded, impressed. 

'I wish I had taken the time to take more notice sooner.' He confessed. 'My trial, Aalrik? I was forced to relive my shameful past as a thief, to track down and slay those I would once have considered my own kind. Though the task was completed, and I do not hide my sense of pride at completing my final test, I cannot deny the sense of nostalgia that I felt. Only it was... unpleasant.'

He shook his head as if to disapaite the memory from his mind. As he did so yet another newcomer joined them, and Adam instantly recognised with a small hint of unease that this one was a dark elf. 

At least he had a sense of humour, Adam thought, relaxing and offering a smile as Aalrik broke the silence. Already Adam liked Aalrik, he had the uncanny ability to see through the boundaries of race and befriend everyone. A rare trait, especially given most elves he had met in the past teneded towards arrogance. Adam decided then and there that Aalrik was one to look out for, to guard carefully as a valued ally. A door slammed somewhere and Adam shot a glance backwards. He couldn`t tell which one it was. Curious, but it was hardly relevant for the moment. 

'Adam Jameson, Windwalker.' Adam offered his hand to the dark elf, trying not to look too neautral. Allies would be inevitable, so it would be best to make as many as possible he reasoned. 


Following this exchange, Adam heard footsteps and turned to see another Diciple. This man was clean shaven and bald, catching Adam by surprise. 

_Well, to each their own I guess._ He thought, taking a step towards the man. 'That`s an interesting look you have stranger.' He offered with a smile. 'Would I be correct in assuming you have an affinity with fire?' The question was serious, but the words sounded as though he was joking. Instantly Adam regretted it, hoping the newcomer would not take offense.


----------



## Djinn24

'That`s an interesting look you have stranger.' He offered with a smile. 'Would I be correct in assuming you have an affinity with fire?'

Looking at the man I offer a small smile and say "yes, fire is my calling. I am known as Djinn."


----------



## Midge913

ALL: Looking around you take in your surroundings as you speak with the other Tashiri in the hallway. The first thing that you notice is that there are a set of seven openings that line the hall on each side. Six of which have doors and contain your own room so you can reasonably assume that they are other bedrooms like your own. In the center of the hallway are two open archways, one on each side of the hall. Thinking that it would be better to continue your conversation in a more spacious area than the hallway you go to investigate. The first archway that you come to will lead into a large training area. This incredibly spacious room includes a fighting ring with weapon racks and armor stands, an archery range, a forge with full smithy, a couple of healing tubs, and even a small glade with several young trees and a running brook. You are amazed to find that the area over the trees is open to the sky and further inspection you will find a complicated retaining wall and drainage system that filters away inevitable rain water. You can feel the natural Furies in the large room and know that this area is exactly the sort of space that a Tashiri would love to spend their down time. 

The archway on the other side of the hall leads to a Great Room that mirrors the training area in size, but is more comfortable and definitely more luxurious. Several large overstuffed chairs, a large book shelf most of the way full, and a large dining table that appears to be able to seat about 15 people dominate the room. A roaring fire burns in a large fire place and placed in each of the corners of the room are small round tables that seat about 5. Opposite the fire place is a small opening that leads to a spiral stair case that goes both upwards and downwards, obviously a servants access. 

Aside from these two archways the only other different feature of the hallway is what would be an open archway. The curious thing about this archway is that it is completely filled in with a soild piece of stone. As if the stone from the arch had been grown together to block the passage. 

Viktor(CaptainFatty), Robb(Lord Ramo), Aalirik(apidude), Adam(Serpion5), Zacarish(Santaire), & Djinn(djinn24): You all explore a the training area and the Great Room as you continue to talk about your trials and how things went during your tests. You all find yourselves situated in the great room at the end of your wanderings and the conversation turns to your backgrounds. Things that may have happened to you before you were taken by the Tashiri. Share whatever you feel like sharing about your journey to earn the sash and what you think your duties will be now that you have attained the rank you so sought. These men that you are now speaking with will be your life long companions. Your lives will depend on each other. It is best to get to know each other as much as possible now as you have no idea what will happen following the ceremony tonight. 

Sven(Therizza): The same as above save your attention is briefly caught by the door at the end of the hallway. Through your bare feet and your connection with Asher, your Earth Fury, you can tell that the stone of the door way has been shaped by fury craft. Asher also tells you that he can feel the steady thump of feet on the stone floor in the room you assume lies beyond and that a powerful Earth Fury also lurks there. Do you share this information with the others? What do you make of the doorway, the room beyond, and its occupant? 

Solomon(Bane_of_Kings): As you sit in your room writing in your journals, reflecting on the days events, and the events that finally led to your promotion to Tashiri. You hear multiple voices out in the hallway and you hear snippits of the conversation and find that they are discussing the challenges of the day. Do you overcome your trepidation and join them? Do your feelings of mistrust extend even to these, your brother Tashiri?

Isira(Jackinator): Your encounter with Zacarish has left you with a sour taste in your mouth. You can't help but hear the conversation coming from the hallway, and for the most part it is jovial and good natured. You can't help but feeling worse and worse about the lie you told to the Dark Elf. After all he is supposedly one of the Tashiri that you will spend much of your life with as you have heard through rumors and whispers amongst the apprentices that ounce a Qalm is formed it is never disbanded, barring death of the members. Perhaps you should join the others, find Zacarish and clear the air.

Mar'Akash(Vaz): See previous update then follow the update for All.


----------



## Therizza

Their group had grown larger, new members trickling in due to anticipation and curiosity. Sven was pleased with his new comrades thus far, and felt that they would make a fine Qalm, perhaps the finest ever seen. Sven chuckled at the thought as the group began moving towards a more spacious location to familiarize themselves with each other. Passing through an archway, he was taken aback at the facility. The familiar smell of the forge nearly brought a tear of nostalgia to Sven’s eyes as he gazed upon a beautiful glade and brook. The work of skilled nature walkers for sure, Sven felt strangely more at peace in this chamber than the hall they had just been occupying. He made a mental note to himself of an especially prodigious boulder within the glade, a perfect place for meditation if time would allow.

The others had passed through this chamber, observing the facilities, some more taken aback than others at the beauty. They continued on into an adjacent chamber, with what looked like a small banquet table, comfortable chairs and a fireplace. Sven could see the prodigious efforts taken to outfit these chambers, but part of him wanted to just sit under a tree near the brook and think. One of the others beckoned Sven to follow them into the room, and he obliged.

Nearing the archway, Sven could not help but notice another arch down the hall. This one was different, blocked off by stone. This was no ordinary stonework, nothing a mason could accomplish. It was the work of an earthwalker, and a powerful one at that. Suddenly, Sven could feel Asher’s mind reach out from the earth and touch his consciousness. “Something lurks behind the door.” Asher’s words were not his own, just thoughts superimposed upon Sven’s mind. “Something large. It is restless. It is as I.” This meant one thing, Sven knew, another Earth Fury dwelt beyond the stone clogged archway. “Many thanks, Asher. You are a loyal companion.” There was no response, but Sven did not expect one. Asher was sometimes vague, but only lent his aide when Sven needed it most.

Sven proceeded into the chamber, joining the others. Taking a seat, Sven could not help but brood on the information Asher had given him. An Earth Fury, a powerful one at that, behind a door of stone grown by the will of a master earth walker. A stranger thing Sven had never encountered. He would have words with his companions of these events, but only at a juncture in the conversation that would allow it.


----------



## Djinn24

Looking around at the open court yard before me, I am a bit taken back by the beauty. There are many wonderful features that had to have been added by masters of Walking. Looking at all the members of the Qalm I feel a bit at ease knowing that their skill at least equal to fine as proven in combat this very day, but what a strange group we make. I decide to hang back near the archway we had just walked in and observe longer. Wanting to learn my Qalm like I have learned my skill with fire. A line from an ancient text leaps to my mind, "As individuals they are strong, as a whole, indestructible". I smile to myself as I think of this. I guess we shall see if this holds true.

As my back presses against the wall I feel the familiar tingle, the ember that grows hot in me. I go to investigate, walking through the other arch I see a fire burning. I walk over and stare into it like I would stare into a lovers eyes. I reach out with my powers and toy with the tendrils of fire shooting up from the wood, causing them to twist and dance into shapes that no normal fire would be able to hold. I sit down into a large over stuffed chair and clear my mind.


----------



## Bane_of_Kings

AS SOLOMON WAS sat in his room, writing his journals, ink splattering off the page, his thoughts cast down on the paper as he begun to reflect on the past, and what the future would bring for him.

That was when the bearer of Water heard some noises outside the door, and glanced up with a frown. It must have been his new... comrades meeting and greeting each other. Lok smirked, he never had been a 'people' person after all.

Gathering his Hidden-Blades just in case, Solomon climbed to his feet and decided that now would be the best time to introduce himself. After all, knowledge was power, right? He had to know something about his fellow Tashiri, so if he were to ever face them in battle, he would know their strengths and weaknesses.


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam*

Having followed the group reluctantly from the corridors Adam was somewhat pleasantly surprised to see a large open area akin to a palace courtyard. Not everyone had come this way, but those who did seemed as pleased as him with this training ground from what he could tell. 

_This is incredible!_ He spoke in his mind. _****, you must see this!_ 

He felt her curiosity, and focussed for a moment to manifest a portion of her power. Blinking a few times, his eyes took on the form of a hawk`s. Not only did this allow the fury to see what he witnessed, but it also allowed him to share the benefits of her vastly superior sight. He saw the fish beneath the surface of a nearby flowing brook, he saw the scurrying rodents between the bushes and in the trees. 

_What the hell, ****?_ He wondered, blinking the eyes away and returning the fury`s mind to the recesses of his own. Suddenly, a pang of hunger permeated his mind and he realized that the hawk`s focus on what would be her food was a reflection of his own hunger. He hadn`t eaten since much earlier today and sincerely hoped that there would be a feast or at least a solid meal at the ceremony. There would be a ceremony wouldn`t there? It would only be right that the newest Tashiri graduates be suitably honoured... 

_It can wait._ He thought to himself. Instead he walked further along, seeing just how extensive this place truly was. He saw an archery range a short distance away, a pipe system to keep the water flowing, somehow they had even managed to fit a smithy`s shop in here! 

Without even looking to see if anyone had followed him this far, he gave voice to his amazement;

'This place is incredible. We could train fifty at a time here and still have room to spare! Truly the Tashiri temples have spared no expense!'


----------



## Santaire

Zacarish walked through the training ground, looking upon everything with a sense of wonder. He was amazed at the size of the place, and this was all one room. He walked towards the archery range and stepped inside it's bounds. Using his power he lifted his leaf blades up until they were orbiting around him. He focused and stared at the target. The four blades flashed through the air, all four embedding themselves in the centre of the target. He smiled, he was still as keen eyed as ever.

He reclaimed the blades and wandered through the rest of the training hall, gazing at everything. He was stunned at the care the Tashiri had put into the place, it had obviously taken months if not years to build and the detail added was unbelievable. He moved back to where he had entered and crossed into the next room. It was a great hall, at least as big as the training area but much more comfortable. A huge table, big enough to seat fifteen people, dominated the centre of the room. A few smaller tables big enough to seat about 5 people were in the corners of the room and a large book shelf ran along one wall.

Zacarish sat on one of the over stuffed chairs and lay back his head, the weariness brought on by the day's events finally taking it's toll.


----------



## Lord Ramo

As more and more of his brothers joined Robb in the corridor there was a general idea to go exploring some more, see whatever else was new to the new Tashiri warriors. They passed through to a huge hall, one which impressed all the Tashiri, Robb could tell. The room had many arches, a beautiful serene tree which was open to nature, though by some curious form of drainage rainwater was cycled away from the room. Robb was in wonder, not as much as others but still. He could feel the metal in the room, the forges nearby. It made him glad that he was a Tashiri warrior now, his trial may have been easier compared to what others had had to face, but Robb was glad nevertheless to be entrusted with this opportunity.

He stared around the room, the fortress had continued to impress him more and more. While Robb had trained in part of the fortress before with other applicants this area had been way out of bounds, and as such he had never seen anything like it. Robb had also spent a lot of time away from the fortress, hence him always carrying his sword, one he would continue to do now that he was a warrior. He glanced at the training rooms available to the Tashiri, it was a wonder that was for sure. He could feel Terros excitement as it viewed the room through his eyes, his keener senses seeing everything possible.* "Truly this is a wonder Terros, one too which we now have the authority to use."* He spoke quietly to his ever constant companion.

As he wandered around the rooms he heard Adam, the wind walker speak, _'This place is incredible. We could train fifty at a time here and still have room to spare! Truly the Tashiri temples have spared no expense!'_ Robb walked up next to him before speaking, *"Yes, I am sure this isn't the only room like this as well. The detail is amazing is it not."* He walked to a room, stuffed chairs by a fire, taking a comfortable seat as he waited for the others to see the sight before them.


----------



## apidude

*Aalrik - Wood Walker - Wood Elf*

Aalrik followed the rest of the new Qalm as they wandered into the training room adjacent to their living quarters and watched as the Dark Elf, Zacarish, moved to the archery range and observed keenly as four leaf-shaped blades spun in the air for a moment orbiting around the Metal Walker, then sped to the center of target at the end of the room, mere blurs of movement even to his Elven eyes. 

_Impressive_ he thought, _ well aware of and trained in his gift. He will be a great ally._ He watched as the rest of the new Tashiri wandered around the room, absorbing the size, opulence, and function of the room. Aalrik had lived within the temple for most of his sixty-two years and it still impressed him the way the Tashiri had used their gifts and their furies to craft rooms of such scope and function. He heard Adam's amazed exclamation and Robb's affirmation about the size and expense of the room and nodded to himself. It was truly amazing.

Aalrik noticed several of the other new Tashiri clearly were sensing the room through their furies. The dwarf, Sven, in particular glanced for a moment down the hall toward an arch in the wall, then frowned, eyebrows furrowing then turned and took a seat in one of the chairs. 

_His fury told him something about the arch, _Aalrik thought, deciding to go over and find out what the Dwarf had observed. 

As he moved toward the chairs, he was passed by Djinn. The Fire Walker moved through the room to the fire in the room and the fire began to dance and weave as the Fire Walker manipulated the flames. Aalrik noted the complexity of the shapes the Fire Walker was creating. It took great skill to handle fire in that way. Aalrik felt pleased and a bit intimidated. _To be partnered with Tashiri of such skill as Zacarish and Djinn and Sven is fantastic. I hope that I measure up. _Then he thought, with a slight frown, _I wonder about the others who are missing, if they are as skilled._

He sat with the rest in the overstuffed chairs before the fire and sank comfortably into the seat and said, "Sven, your fury saw something in this room. Is it something in the way the room was built or are the stones telling your feet something else?"


----------



## Jackinator

*Isira*

Isira pulled the knife out of the wood, slipping it into her boot before opening the door and slipping out into the corridor. It was empty, the others had already moved on it seemed, she sighed, but moved off down the corridor. She could hear voices coming from that way, her senses were already far advanced than most thanks to her abilities but the voices would have been audible anyway. She moved off down the corridor, cautiously, her footsteps silent. She approached a huge, ornately crafted archway, sensing an immense open space beyond and she peered through. The others were gathered in an cavernous hall, the room was furnished with a range, healing tubs, a fighting ring and a forge. Further on there was another archway, through which most of the others were visible, sat in chairs around the fire.

She padded swiftly across the hall, going through the archway she spotted Zacarish and walked over to the chair next to his. She sat on the arm of the chair, while it would have been invisible to most, to an observant eye she looked poised and ready to flee. She reached out and prodded Zacarish, his head was back and his eyes closed. When she touched him his eyes opened and he gave her an odd look. "I know you think I'm like the ones you were talking about, that I don't trust you because of who... what you are." She paused, hesitant about continuing, then reasoning that she had to say something more she continued. "It's not you, it's me, I just have trouble trusting people." She sprang up, realising what might help construct a proper relationship, "come on" she said, punching his shoulder lightly, "lets try out the ring, best of three?"


----------



## Santaire

Zacarish nodded his head at Isira's reason. He grinned when she suggested fighting in the ring and stood, streching his muscles. He walked beside her back to the training ground with her. When they reached the training ring he drew one of the swords from the rack of training blades and gave it a few practice cuts. The blade was well balanced and with his skill should prove fearsome despite it's blunted edge.

He slipped into the ring and watched as Isira, slipping a couple of training knives from their sheaths climbed into the ring. He took up a guard stance with his blade held in a position from which it would be a simple matter to block any incoming attack. He tensed as he saw Isria take a half step forward and then she attacked...
___________________________________

Zacarish was sweating by the time they finished but he was grinning. The High Elf woman was fast, almost his equal but not quite. The first fight had ended quickly enough, he had taken her apart easily with a dozen blows that flashed with blinding speed to deflect and counter all Isira's blows. The second one she had beaten him but he wasn't going to let that stop him.

The third round had been hard fought, for Zacarish and Isira both had the measure of each other. Both of them had ended the fight with the blade of the other at their throat. It had been a draw and they had both walked away grinning. Zacarish slumped down into the chair he had been sitting in earlier and thought to himself 'if all of us are at least as skilled as Isira then we will be unstoppable together'...


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam*

Adam barely heard Robb`s reply, so caught up was he in the majesty of the sight before him. As he continued to pace the area, taking in every detail he could for future reference, he heard voices near the room`s entrance. He turned and saw two more diciples, one of whom was a dark elf he had not noticed before, heading towards the training ring. They talked in low voices and their expressions suggested some delicate matter, so Adam decided not to pry and continued to explore the place a little further. 

By this point he was under the stars. Despite the chilly night air, the feeling of seeing open sky gave him a warmth derived from the hawk spirit that dwelt within him. Flight. He had not mastered the skill yet, having only ever managed short leaps in higher than normal bounds but the goal was still set firmly in his mind; One day he would fly, just like ****. The thought evoked an amused feeling from the spirit in the back of his mind. Supressing an empathic laugh, he turned and headed back the way he had come. 

As he passed the two he had noticed earlier, he saw one of them draw one of the swords from the weapon rack. 

_Training at this hour?_ He wondered. Then he remembered their tones from earlier and the scene suddenly made sense. _No, they`re bonding. I`ll leave them to it._ He exited the great training chamber and headed towards the other room he had seen earlier. 

'Wow.' Was all he could manage as he entered. 'And here I was thinking the training hall was gonna be my favourite place.' He laughed, looking around the place with keen eyed interest. The bald man from earlier looked asleep on one of the chairs, and the others had begun to filter in to this room a few at a time. Adam decided to follow suit, after all he had no idea what yet awaited tonight or early tomorrow. 

Trying not to make too much noise, he sidled over to one of the chairs near the bookcase along the wall and took a seat. The cushions were fantastic, and he struggled to keep himself awake enough to hear should anyone seek to address him.


----------



## Jackinator

*Isira*

Isira grinned fiercely, he had won the first bout easily, but she had the measure of him now, he wouldn't find it so easy the second time. She leapt forward, pushing on the air to add to her speed, he met her easily with the sword, parrying both blades with one smooth movement. He lunged forwards in her direction and she spun out of the way, shaping the air around herself, moving far faster than any normal warrior ever could. Her left dagger flicked out towards his throat but he brought the sword back almost unconsciously, stopping the blow before swinging round with a low blow, she jumped lightly, putting one foot on the blade and leaping higher pushing herself further up on the air. She reached the peak of her jump and somersaulted, coming down in time to see him turn and lunge, she raised an arm, seemingly to block the inevitable blow and felt it slide from the invisible barrier formed there, his blade slid off and she took the opportunity. She span, kicking the sword from his hand and finishing poised, legs braced, both knives at his throat. She grinned, "you're going to have to try harder than that." Their third bout was a draw and she smiled, knowing that they had gone someway to making a bond, at least as warriors before going through to the other room and sitting cross legged before the fire.


----------



## Midge913

Sol(Angel of Blood): Having arrived back from your challenge far later than any of the others, you are lead back through the Temple by an Order Serf. As you walk you reflect on the challenge that you just endured. Several days ago you were selected to follow several other Tashiri Aria in a routine patrol route between Borkan and Ioleth. It is a frequent thing for Tashiri with the ability to fly to patrol the trade and travel routes between the Fortress Countries, for even with a large host of body guards and retainers one is not really safe on the kingdom roads. As you were on patrol the Tashiri leading the patrol points down toward the ground and you see smoke rising from road. Swooping in closer, you see the remains of a merchant caravan and about 20 individuals fighting a pack of Taroug. You have never seen the Wolfkin up close and you are taken aback by their height, size, and strength. The pack is about 16 Taroug strong. You are able to target one at range but take into account that massive attacks like Raging Inferno will cause collateral damage, and smaller bursts of flame seem to only wear the beasts down as they continue to slaughter the surviving members of the caravan, taken in a berzerk bloodlust. Describe how you participated in the battle. You were only able to kill a single Taroug, the one you wounded from the air, but you feel quite proud of the accomplishment. The leader of the patrol is quite impressed as well and when you return to the Talaisarat you are told that you have passed the trials and are lead immediately away by a serf. As you walk you think on the challenge, how you felt about the utter carnage caused by the Taroug, and how you feel about your accomplishment. You are lead to an area of the Temple you have never been in and then to a room that the Serf tells you will be your new quarters. (see the first update for the room description). You hear voices in the hall and when you go to investigate, you look out of your room and down the hall and see the largest man you have ever seen tell you to join him in the Great Hall. He speaks with authority and the ring of command that you can't help but follow his instructions. 

Sven(Therizza): As you follow your companions into the great hall and start to take advantage of the comfortable accomodations there in, Aalrik turns to you and asks you what you are thinking. It is obvious that the perceptive elf noticed your reaction to the door at the end of the hall and he is curious to hear what you know. Discuss your perceptions of the enclosed room and its occupants with Aalrik and what you think is going on with the room. Remember that you are a newly raised Tashiri and our training covered nothing about the life after apprenticeship. Does the uncertainty of the future disturb you at all? For everything you know about life as a Tashiri Warrior you have heard through vague rumors and whispers. The upper echelons of the Order do a very good job at secluding the apprenctices in their small training groups and since no information is given to them rumors abound. Perhaps discuss some of the things you may have heard during your training. 

Djinn(djinn24): Manipulating the fire clears your mind and focuses you. Part of your volitile nature perhaps makes your thoughts race and get jumbled up when lots of new information and experiences assail you. Is your elevation to full Warrior all that you expected it to be? As you think on the events of the last several hours you hear Sven and Aalrik speaking together. It appears that Sven has learned something through his fury. Do you join in the conversation or do you keep your thoughts to yourself? Perhaps you should share what you have heard about live after elevation.

Solomon(Bane_of_Kings): Following the sound of voices you find the other Tashiri in a large, comfortable Great Hall. You see a Wood Elf, a Dwarf, and another human sitting at one of the tables near the fire. A Dark Elf sits in one of the plush armchairs in front of the roaring fire place and perched upon the arm of the chair next to him is a lithe female High Elf the two are engaged in a quite conversation. Coming in the room behind you are to men that are talking about the large training room and how much they are amazed at its size and scope. Perhaps you should go introduce yourself and strike up a conversation with one of the groups.

Adam(Serpion5): You hear Robb also exclaiming at the detail and scope of the training room as you turn to follow the rest of the group into the Great Hall. Perhaps you should get to know Robb a bit better. You can see by his attire and the fact that he has introduced himself as a Metal Walker, that he appears to be a most accomplished swordsman. Looking about the room as you enter you see that there is a man walking in in front of you that you have not yet met. Perhaps you should introduce yourself to this newcomer and then together join into the conversation that is going on between Aalrik, Sven, and Djinn.

Robb(Lord Ramo): You hear Adam also exclaiming at the detail and scope of the training room as you turn to follow the rest of the group into the Great Hall. Perhaps you should get to know Robb a bit better. Looking about the room as you enter you see that there is a man walking in in front of you that you have not yet met. Perhaps you should introduce yourself to this newcomer and then together join into the conversation that is going on between Aalrik, Sven, and Djinn.

Aalrik(Apidude): As you and Sven dicuss what is going on in the room at the end of the hall, you casually glance around the room at your other companions. You see that the Dark Elf Zacarish and a High Elf woman you are unfamiliar with are speaking in low tones near the fire. You see Robb and Adam enter the room from the training area just behind another human that you also have not met and you watch as Djinn comes to join your conversation. You wonder what the future holds for yourself and this group of warriors. You have heard very little of life after elevation but perhaps you should share what rumors you have heard about the life of a Tashiri. 

Viktor(CaptainFatty): See the update from last week and Join in the conversation with Robb and Adam. Introduce yourself to the newcomer and share your impressions of the accomodations that you now live in. How does it feel to live in the lap of luxury compared to the apprentices austere quarters? Perhaps you could share with the others more of your background if the conversation permits. 

Mar'Akash(Vaz):

Zacarish(Santaire) & Isira(Jackinator):: You and Isira stand speaking with each other in the training area, speaking of the bout, and what you think your lives as Tashiri will be like. You share with each other rumors that you have heard about what happens to one of the Order after Elevation, and as you speak you are interrupted by a commanding bass voice, "Isira, Zacarish, would you join me in the Great Hall." It sounds like a request but looking in the direction of the voice you see the largest man that you have ever seen standing in the doorway to the training area. He speaks with the confidence of authority and his demeanor immediately says that this is a man that will brook no argument. You proceed into the Great Hall ahead of the man, right behind another human who you have never seen before. 


All: As you are conversing you can't help but notice that Zacarish and Isira coming back into the Great Hall just behind a new man that you have never seen before. They are followed by the largest human you have ever seen. He stands about 7'2" tall and is broad enough in the shoulder that he needs to turn slightly at the waist to make it through the doorway. He has close cropped red hair and a perfectly manicured short beard that frames his face. He wears the traditional garb of the Tashiri but instead of the red sash that you know to be a badge of office so to speak, his stole is purple with gold triming, something you have never seen before. He carries a single visible dagger that would no doubt feel as a short sword to a normal sized man, and he moves with a purpose and poise of an able warrior. 

"Welcome younglings," he says in a low bass voice that despite its timbre fills the room and immediately captures your attention. "I am Nesrin Millam and I will be your Hetat." Noticing your confused looks he continues stern looking, but you can see and almost feel the smile behind his eyes, "Please sit, we have a few things to discuss before the Ceremony this evening." He seats himself at the head of the table and motions for you to join him.


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam*

The chair had lived up to Adam`s expectations, easily being the most comfortable piece of furniture he had ever known. Exchanging a few flances between the other diciples in the room, Adam noted with interst how truly diverse the group actually was. He had seen man, dwarf and elf of several varieties already here and equally diverse skillsets. As far as he could tell, he was the only wind specialist, but he could be mistaken as he had yet to know everyone in detail. 

Robb was seated close by, a man about Adam`s age by the look of him, and if Adam had to guess, he was a metal walker. He was a fairly large sort, one with whom the warrior arts would serve well. Adam reasoned that he was less a caster than a warrior, but such things were not always best to assume. It would be more prudent to get to know him first before making any conclusions. 

Sparing another glance around, he took notice of a dwarf, a man and the wood elf Aalrik he had spoken with earlier engaged in conversation. 

Turning back to Robb, he asked; 'So, Rob isn`t it? Have you any idea what we`re supposed to be doing? I feel a little guilty relaxing like this, it`s not something I`m used to.' 

As he asked the question, Adam noticed a diciple he had not seen before, but at the same time he must have because he hadn`t noticed any new arrivals. The man had a wild look about him, as though he was fresh from some gruelling campaign. But then again, given the nature of Tashiri training, that was a distinct possibility...


----------



## Angel of Blood

Sol stood in the middle of the entrance hall of the Temple of Winds, its marble walls undecorated and simple, the Tashiri not fond of elaborate décor and design, instead concentrating solely on their task to safeguard the free people of Telanoth. He had been in the temple before, but always accompanied by Alenko or another senior Tashiri. Now though he stood alone, in his grey robes for the last time, his final trial having been completed and the challenge still fresh in his mind…

_Several days ago Sol had been sent on a patrol with the Tashiri Aria between Borkan and Ioleth. He had finally been able to accomplish true flight only a few weeks ago, before then only having been able to make extraordinarily high leaps and glide softly back to the ground. But now able to fly, albeit not as casually or smoothly as the other Tashiri Aria yet, he was deemed qualified enough the join the air patrols. The feeling was incredible to him, defying gravity and mocking the laws of nature, it made him feel invincible…During the patrol they had spotted smoke rising ahead of them and raced in to find out what the cause was._

A serf then approached Sol and instructed him to follow him, leading off down one of the many halls towards the Warriors Quarters, an area Sol had never been to before, but was soon to call home. As he had noted before, the halls were bare of ornamentation save for braziers for light or simple necessities where appropriate. They walked in silence; the serf content to lead the way whilst Sol concentrated on memorising the route to his quarters, as he did his thoughts went back to the patrol.

_As they drew closer they saw that the smoke was rising from a ruined caravan, the two dozen or so merchants locked in a deadly and hopeless battle with a pack of Taroug. Having grown up in Opun he was no stranger to the Naggarond, the coastal country having been assailed by them for as long as can be remembered. But he had never seen the wolf like Taroug personally before. Easily as big as the largest of men and with the power that size affords, the merchants were little more than play things to them. The Tashiri swooped in at once to come to their aid. Sol picked one of the wolfkin out as a target, this one flanking around to come at the merchants vulnerable rear. Parts of the caravan were still smouldering and alight from the attack, far more than Sol needed to call upon his abilities. He drew upon the flames below and created a fireball in his hands to unleash upon the Taroug, losing some altitude as he did as a consequence of not fully concentrating on his imperfect flight. He threw the fireball directly at the Taroug and watched it smash into the wolfkins chest. _

The serf opened a door and stepped back informing him that this would be his living quarters from now on. Sol gave a curt nod to the serf and then entered his new room. As the serf left he reminded him that he was to remove the grey robe and don the garments of the Tashiri from now on. The room was a comfortable size, but Spartan as expected, with only the equipment and items he would need. A bed, desk, armoire and fireplace, the flames of which Sol intensified slightly with a thought. He took off his torn grey robes and looked into the armoire to find his new ivory clothes. He pulled on the pants and boots and went to put one of the shirts on, but eyed up the long loose fitting sleeves and muttered “Well this won’t do now will it”. He tore off the sleeves from the shirt and burnt off the frayed edges carefully before putting it on. He stretched out his arms and practiced a few punches and jabs and again muttered to himself “There we are, much less restricting”. The punches again drawing him back to the recent fight.

_He watched as the fireball exploded against the Tarougs chest, knocking it back several paces and causing it to howl out in pain or anger, he wasn’t sure which, perhaps both. Either way it did little but slow it down for a moment and announce his presence. Impatiently he allowed himself to plummet towards the ground to fight it up close, summoning another fireball as he did. Just before impact he concentrated just enough to slow his fall and land at an acceptable speed, just before doing so he once again let the fireball loose at the wolfkin. Unfortunately due to either a combination of trying to use abilities simultaneously or lack of practice, he hit the ground much harder than intended. He quickly regained his composure however and ran at the recovering Taroug, which also recovered and charged towards him. At the last moment he used his enhanced speed and a short burst of flight, effectively jumping on thin air to propel himself over the wolfkin and land behind it. He quickly turned around and sent a blast of air into its back, sending it crashing to the ground. He grinned and let out a shout of success and ran confidently forwards to finish it. But as he ran towards the wolfkin it snarled and swung a razor-sharp claw at him, even with his prenatural speed, Sol only managed to evade the attack, the claw still managing to rip a large amount of the robe across his chest. They then began to fight in earnest, even with his enhanced speed and abilities the fight was evenly matched, but Sol was still confident of victory though he realised it was taking too long and used another method. He feinted with a swing to the left and as the wolfkin opened its guard to block the feint he unlashed a quick fireball directly to its face, the fireball was hasty and only small but it did the job as the wolf howled in agony, as it did Sol sent a concentrated blast of wind directly into its chest at point blank range. It flew back with alarming force and speed before crashing into a tree, shattering both its spine and skull. He looked triumphantly around for his next target, but saw that in the time it had taken him to defeat one, the other Tashiri had either defeated or chased away the rest. Nonetheless the leader of the patrol came forwards to congratulate Sol, telling him he was impressed and that he had passed his final trial to become a Tashiri._

He picked out the fabled red sash, marking him out now as a full warrior of the Tashiri. He ran it through his hands several times, pride surging through him at having finally earned his place in the order. For years he had trained under Alenko, trained for longer and harder than the others he had started with, but he had done it at last. He tied the sash around his waste and went to close the armoire when he noticed something on the shelf along with a small note. It was a small but heavily gilded box with burning coals within and a long chain. He picked up the note and read _“Sol. For when all other lights go out. Take care my friend. Alenko”_ He smiled as he read the note before carefully tying the box around his waste also, entwining it with the sash to secure it. He then heard voices outside and went to look down the hall. Stood partway down the hall was possibly the largest man Sol had ever seen, larger than the Taroug he had just fought. In a deep commanding voice he told Sol to go through into the Great Hall. For all his brash nature, Sol couldn’t help but obey the order and walked through into the hall where other Tashiri had gathered. The giant then followed him and another pair through and introduced himself as Nesrin Millam and that he would be there Hetat from now on, he then sat down at the end of the table and instructed them to do the same. Sol took a seat just one down to the left of Nesrin and watched as the others sat down at the table aswell.


----------



## Bane_of_Kings

SOLOMON LOK FOLLOWED the voices that belonged to his fellow Tashiri with caution, and approached them, keeping his weapons hidden underneath his garments. It seemed there was a chosen from every species here in this room, and the human male recgonised warriors one by one, identifying them by their race. Elf, Wood Elf, Dark Elf... Dwarf...

Overcoming his doubts, Solomon stepped forward, and glanced into the conversation between the Dwarf, a man and the Wood Elf, at the same time somebody else did. He then spoke, words forming on his lips. "Erm, Hello. Mind if I join you?"

(*A/N:* _Sorry about the short post, I'll try to get another post in within this update_)


----------



## Jackinator

*Isira*

"Isira, Zacarish, would you join me in the Great Hall." The mans words were deceptive, although it sounded like a request, the tone made it clear that it was far from it. Isira followed Zacarish into the main hall, feeling another human join them and the huge man bringing up the rear.

Isira instinctively moved ato the far end of the table, sitting down in the chair opposite Nesrim, away from most of the others at the huge table. The others began gathering round and taking their seats as he invited them to. She sat on the edge of her seat, listening intently as he spoke...


----------



## Lord Ramo

Robb looked up as he was spoken to by Adam, his focus had been on his sword that was now placed across his lap, still in its sheath. It would make it far too uncomfortable and awkward for him to wear it while sitting, and Robb held the blade across his knees. He loved his sword Fang, it had never failed him, and it never would. Neither would his casting abilities which were almost at the same level of his remarkable swordsmanship skills. Robb was unsure of Adam at the moment, he seemed positively confident in his abilities however, and if he was that sure than surely he would live up to his hype. Robb thought for a moment before answering, Adam was right, it was unusual for most, if not all of them to have down time and as such they must have all felt like they had something too which they would have to do.

*"Well Adam isn't it? I do share your concern about us not having anything to do. I am not used to this level of quietness and lack of things to do, I spent most of my time away from these amazing halls spending all my time honing my abilities with metal. I am unused to sitting idly while we wait for our official acceptance into the Tashiri." *He said this all in the best of spirits, hoping to have alleviated some of Adam's unease of sitting idly by. But then again Adam might have just been trying to make some form of convosation.

Soon they were asked by a giant of a man to follow them into another room, sitting around a large table. Robb noticed that a High elf woman tried to sit far away from the group, odd. Surely she should be trying to get to know her fellows, she could rely on them some day. Robb thought of this as he took his seat, he sat a little way away from the women, not out of anything but respect, maybe she just wanted to be left alone at the moment, and he was certain that they would end up talking later. He looked at his companions as they sat down, noticing a new tashiri who he hadn't met before come in.

The bear of a man introduced himself as their Hetat, and told them to sit as he spoke to them of the ceremony they would be sitting through to mark their achievements becoming an Tashiri Warrior.


----------



## Santaire

Zacarish nodded at the huge man. He sheathed the training blade and placed it reverently on the rack. Some would view his reverence as strange but Zacarish had learnt that a blade demanded respect if it were to be used properly. He straightened and turned to follow the man into the great hall. Isira moved iut from his flank and sat down, seemingly as far away from everyone as possible which was understandable considering what she had told him of her personality.

He sat next to her and settled back into the chair. His eyes closed and his breathing slowed but he was far from sleep. Inside he was listening intently while his body instinctively went through the exercises his father had taught him that were designed to help calm him after a fight. He openened his eyes when the man, Nesrim, began to speak about their time as Tashiri warriors...


----------



## Djinn24

Standing up I walk over to Sven and Aalrik and join their conversation. From what I can gather there is another larger fury behind the bricked up area. From my limited knowledge of Furies, not having one myself, I can tell this one is from a incredibly powerful Tashiri. It makes me wonder who it could be and why is it sealed behind a wall.

"Why would someone seal a fury in such a way, and how? Something that powerful could surely break out if it felt the need." I add into the conversation.

I puzzle over this wondering if this had something to do with us, since it was located so close to our training grounds. Maybe it was our job to release it, or maybe even ensure that is stayed imprisoned.


----------



## Therizza

"Sven, your fury saw something in this room. Is it something in the way the room was built or are the stones telling your feet something else?"

Sven let out a laugh, realizing there should be no secrets kept among his new comrades. “Aye, Asher alerted me of something, something large, dwelling behind that wall” Sven pointing down the hall to the offending section of wall. “You are very observant, Aalrik was it not? Perhaps you may be able to see that the wall sealing whatever I sensed off from us is not of normal stone and mortar. Nay, it is the work of a powerful earth walker…” Sven trailed off, caught in thought.

"Why would someone seal a fury in such a way, and how? Something that powerful could surely break out if it felt the need” Djinn chimed in as he neared the two.

“Aye, that would seem the case, Djinn. If the wall is meant to keep the Fury in, or curious neophytes out, I could not say. Perhaps it is a temple guardian, or prisoner…” Sven could not help but trail off as a giant of a human walked into the room.

"I am Nesrin Millam and I will be your Hetat…Please sit, we have a few things to discuss before the Ceremony this evening” the man spoke, beckoning them to the table. Moving from his seat, he reassured his friends that they would speak more of this when time permitted. Sven could not help but wonder what this ceremony would entail, or what a Hetat was for that matter.


----------



## apidude

*Aalrik - Wood Elf - Wood Walker*

Aalrik noticed another human Tashiri disciple moving in their direction as Sven's voice drifted to silence, caught in thought.

_I will have to discuss this with him further. Something either troubles him or he has an idea about what is imprisoned. _Aalrik thought.

The new Disciple approached them and said, tentatively, "Erm, Hello. Mind if I join you?"

"No, not at all. I am Aalrik Faengoede, Wood Elf and Walker, this is Djinn, whom, if I can base my guess on the way the fire danced at his touch, is a Fire Walker, and Sven, Earth Walker. Sven's fury alerted him to the presence of a very strong fury on the other side of that stone wall. We were wondering what it could be. Tell us of yourself."

Before the man could answer, a low rumbling voice interrupted. Aalrik turned at the sound and was not surprised to see Nesrin Millam moving to the center of the room, his bulk moving as smoothly as a dancer but with a step that showed that the dancer was as dangerous as Death itself. Aalrik knew of Nesrin. His reputation among the Tashiri was extremely strong, but unorthodox.

With a startled recognition, Aalrik realized that Nesrin moved with the smoothness of Hurel on the hunt. Randomly, Aalrik wondered how the wolf and her yearling cub, Ickbit, were faring in the mountains below the Temple of the Tashiri. _"I must make time to go to Hunt with them."_ he decided.

Nesrin spoke, his low voice echoing from the stones of the walls. "Welcome younglings," he said. "I am Nesrin Millam and I will be your Hetat." 

Glancing around at the new Tashiri in the room and their confused looks he continued, dark black-grey eyebrows drawn into a stern frown. However, in the depths of the eyes, Aalrik caught the glint of humor. 

Nesrin said, "Please sit, we have a few things to discuss before the Ceremony this evening." He pulls a chair from the table, reverses it, sits on it and props his elbows on the back of the chair and leans forward. He waves at the group to sit at the table. The group, now 11 strong, moves to the table and, with scraping of chairs against the rough grey stone of the floor, take a seat at the table.

[ed: Last is better than late. Sorry all. Week was a bit draining..... Apidude]


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## Midge913

All: Seating yourselves at the table, you can tell that Nesrin is watching you, not that it makes you uncomfortable per se, but you can tell that he reads things from where you sit, who you sit by, and your demeanor. You get the distinct impression that not much gets by this man. Once you are all seated he begins to speak:

"Well younglings, it appears that the powers that be have decided that you are ready to bear the sash and the title of Tashiri Warrior. I want you all to understand though that you are by no means anything more or less than you were yesterday, you are just entrusted with a different level of responsibility. You all still have much to learn and more to grow and that is where I come in. I saw your confused looks when I mentioned that I would be your Hetat and I should explain what that means. The function of a Hetat is many fold; I am teacher, confidant, and mediator. Think of the Qalm as a family and I am at its head. I am responsible for you and to you and as far as you are concerned I am the ultimate authority in this group. In battle I will lead you and in training teach you all to use your abilities in concert. Personally I will brook no questions in battle, but with in the rooms of this hallway I also wish to be your friend." 

Nesrin paused, flicked out his wrist, and a goblet and decanter of water glides smoothly across the room to his hand . With another motion of his hand the water in the decanter rises in a smooth stream from its depths and flows into the goblet waiting in his hands. (wind and water walkers in the group you can feel the subtle manipulation of Furies that come effortlessly to Nesrin's call, and know that none of you could manage something so delicate.) Taking a sip from his goblet Nesrin continued, " Now as you now doubt just witnessed I am talented in many forms of Fury Craft and in all honesty I have abilities from every facet of our craft. It is required of one should they wish to be a Hetat, so instruction in your abilities will continue in between our other duties. Finally you may not like me all the time, I am forgiving and understanding to a point, but I will demand a lot from you. I don't mean to sound arrogant, but I deserve your respect. I have been a Tashiri Warrior for almost 400 years, I know more than you. Pure and simple. That being said I don't demand that respect unconditionally, I will earn it, as you must earn mine." Looking around at each of you Nesrin finally broke into the smile you could see lingering behind his eyes, "We are to be a family of sorts. Trust each other, learn from each other, and protect each other. Once a Qalm is formed it is never broken. You will spend most of your lives with the people in this room, so learn to live with each other at the very least."

"Now onto the ceremony; it will begin with a feast and we will sit together at a single table as a group. During the feasting don't hesitate to mingle with other Tashiri and no doubt you will be approached by many and congratulated. Eat and be merry as this night is a celebration for you. I am to tell you nothing of the ceremony itself until we begin it, follow my lead and you will be fine. But know that it will consecrate your oath to the Order and bind you all together more closely than you can now know, after tonight there is no turning back from the path you have chosen"

Taking another sip from his goblet of water Nesrin fixes you all with a kind smile, "I know you must have questions, and we have sometime before we must depart for the feast. So ask."


All:  This is your opportunity to speak with Nesrin about what your life will be like as a Tashiri Warrior. Continue to speak amongst yourselves and ask questions of the Nesrin. 

OOC: as I side note I will be playing Nesrin as an NPC with frequent posts, just like he were character, in between updates. Questions you ask will be answered "in real time" so to speak and you will not need to wait for the next update to get the answers. Ask as much as you can as the next update will take us to the feast.


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam*

Robb`s reply set Adam at ease a little. At least he wasn`t the only one who was feeling uneasy about the lack of activity. As the evening wore on, other tashiri diciples entered the room, began to converse and know one another, and discuss the possibilities of their future. 

It was not so much later that a newcomer arrived, a giant of a man who clearly held some position of power. He bade them all sit at the table, introducing himself as Nesrin.

With no reason to fear this man despite his appearance, Adam chose to seat himself near the head. As the other tashiri took their seats, Adam turned and gave his attention to the man. 

*'Well younglings, it appears that the powers that be have decided that you are ready to bear the sash and the title of Tashiri Warrior. I want you all to understand though that you are by no means anything more or less than you were yesterday, you are just entrusted with a different level of responsibility.'* Nesrin explained. *'You all still have much to learn and more to grow and that is where I come in. I saw your confused looks when I mentioned that I would be your Hetat and I should explain what that means. The function of a Hetat is many fold; I am teacher, confidant, and mediator. Think of the Qalm as a family and I am at its head. I am responsible for you and to you and as far as you are concerned I am the ultimate authority in this group. In battle I will lead you and in training teach you all to use your abilities in concert. Personally I will brook no questions in battle, but with in the rooms of this hallway I also wish to be your friend.'*

As Nesrin continued to explain the situation, detailing the relationship he hoped to foster between himself and the others, they bore witness to a small show of his power. A bottle and decanter slid across the table to rest before him. A small stream of water flowed perfectly up and over the neck of the bottle to land in the cup before he took a drink. 

Adam smiled and nodded softly in respect. Raw power as a windwalker was not a problem for him unless he tried an unfamiliar skill, but the act of finesse displayed by the hetat was something Adam did not know first hand. Never had any need for such minute manipulation arose. It would be an interesting pursuit sometime. One that he would probably do well to learn from Nesrin himself if possible. 

*'I know you must have questions, and we have sometime before we must depart for the feast. So ask.'* Nesrin concluded.

For a split moment, Nesrin locked eyes with Adam, and the young windwalker felt that this was the best time to ask. 

'Hetat, if I may address you so,' Adam began. 'I noticed earlier that you can manipulate the wind energies to such finesse as to move glass without breaking it. Perhaps this is lack of skill on my part, but I ask anyway, do you have assistance from a fury spirit that enables such subtle manipulation?'




___


----------



## Midge913

As the question rolls off your lips Adam, Nesrin turns his attention to you and again you are struck by the disparity in Nesrin's appearance and his demeanor, there is a relaxed sense of calm about him that just puts you at ease. 

"First of all Adam you may call me Nesrim," making sure that the rest of the group was listening he added, "that goes for the rest of you as well. I may be your leader but I do not place myself above you. We are a team, each with their function. Other Hetat are more aloof, which you will learn, but I am not."

Turning back to you Adam, Nesrin continues," To answer your question, Yes I have have several furies that manifest, but that has little to do with what one can do with their abilities. All abilities come from our connection with the Furies regardless of whether or not they manifest. It is purely a matter of concentration, and focus. Explosive abilities are the easiest to master, and the most useful in battle, that is why they are instructed first and foremost to apprentices as a matter of survival and practicality. If you wish it can be something that we work on in the future."


----------



## The Forgotten

Belak walked slowly behind the serf as he reflected on the day’s events. The wound in his leg was wrapped in bandages and was quickly healing due to the efforts of a water walker for which the Dark Elf was grateful. The Naggarond had fought hard but they had proved no match for the Tashiri in their midst. They had been driven back and the tunnel had been sealed to prevent more coming from the depths. Belak was proud of his achievement but knew enough of the world’s dangers to not underestimate the dangers of pride.
______________________________________________

“Into them,” roared the leader of the Tashiri and the warriors charged. Belak ran with them and, drawing his sword, slashed the long blade across the chest of the first Naggarond he reached. The long blade, forged with all the abilities at Belak’s command, pierced the creatures shoulder and it roared in pain and hate. The young Dark Elf began fighting with the Naggarond but the competition was one sided at best. The blades flashed between them. To every one else they were blurs of movement but to Belak it seemed as if they were moving in slow motion.

A crossed blade deflected the Naggarond’s lunge but the creature then leapt back, out of range of his slash that followed. It then jumped forward at him and, snatching the sword, ripped the blade out of Belak’s grip. After that the creature of the water had gripped him by the throat, hoisting him high. Belak had ignored the pain in his throat as he tried to breathe and focussed instead on communicating with the furies. The thing had snarled at him and drew back its arm for the killing blow when he struck.

Belak’s reformed arm went clean through the chest of the Naggarond and erupted from its back in a spray of blood. The Dark Elf was dropped by the creature as it stumbled back, its mind unable to process what had happened. Belak walked up to it and raised his arm high, except it was not an arm; it was a long metal blade. He spun, bringing the blade round in a perfect coup de grace that severed the beast’s head. He then kicked the body and it fell backwards into the water.

Belak knelt, panting at the energy required to transform his arm before standing and striding into the battle. He became a thing from a nightmare; he drifted between fights, melding his body into whatever was required to get the job done. Then he came upon a leader beast that was going to be his 4th kill. It fought him with every shred of brute strength and innate speed that it had but it was still not enough.

The beast did manage to land a blow though. Its dagger tore into his leg but Belak used his furies to help him ignore the pain so that he could finish the fight. The Naggarond died horribly. Belak focussed and all the metal around him began to rise into the air. The Naggarond’s dagger also rose and all of the shards of metal pointed at the Naggarond. Belak grinned and the Naggarond’s eyes widened as it realised what was about to happen. It raised its arms to try and protect itself but they could not save it from the death that fate had chosen for it.

All the scraps of metal hurtled through the air towards it. Belak saved the blade till last and when the Naggarond’s arms had been reduced to mere scraps of flesh hanging off the bone he sent the serrated edge dagger hurtling at the Naggarond’s face. The tip went straight through its skull and lodged in it’s brain. Belak kicked the dead creature once and it fell. Its body was still thrashing as its nervous system went into overdrive and Belak walked over and picked up his sword.

He brought the long blade down and with it came a sense of utter finality. The blade went straight through the creature’s heart and pinned it to the floor. The thrashing stopped and Belak ripped the blade free. He cleaned the blood from the blade and sheathed it. His arms were weapons no more and he was glad of it for the feeling of having his arms reshaped into metal weapons was an eerie sensation that he did not enjoy.

The Tashiri leader approached him and told him that he had been promoted to full Tashiri status. Belak stood, gazing at the man who had been his teacher for as long as the young Dark Elf could remember before finally accepting what he had just heard. “Thank you master,” he said quietly and the large man grinned at him. “It is nothing young one, you have earned it.” Belak was to treasure those words for the rest of his life...
______________________________________________

The words spoken by the serf snapped Belak back to the present. “I understand Galus; there is no need to repeat it several times.” The old servant smiled at him. The two knew each other well and both were friends and so Galus replied without harshness “I just thought you were in a world of your own for a moment there.” Belak grinned and nodded. This was his gift. He was an extremely skilled swordsman and could communicate with the furies with ease but his greatest talent was his ability to make people feel welcome and be assured that they had at least one friend looking out for them. He got on well with every one who was not his foe and thus he had made plenty of friends during his time as an apprentice

Galus directed him to a door and Belak opened it to find his new room. “You Qualm is in the great hall,” Galus said, closing the door behind him. Belak quickly changed into the traditional Tashiri garb and wrapped the sash across his back and shoulder. He then removed his weapons and placed them in his armoir. He stepped outside and closed the door behind him. He then walked down the corridor and came to two great arches. One led into a vast training area and the other led into a great hall where a group of Tashiri, who he presumed were his Qualm, sat facing a large man who was telling about their future life as Tashiri.

He walked in and sat down next to a human who had a gem on his chest with a hawk’s feather adorning it that was busy asking Nesrin a question. “Belak Ero,” he said when the man had finished, offering a hand to the human. When the Hetat had finished answering the wind walker Belak asked “what happened to your Qualm Nesrin?” The young Dark Elf looked grim while he said it and waited for a response from Nesrin...


----------



## Midge913

"ah, Welcome Belak," Nesrim replied, "that story is a long one, with many twists and turns. It is little known among that apprentices but the life span of a powerful Water Walker can be several times that of a normal human. You as Tashiri will live longer than those of your respective races to begin with." Nesrin paused to make sure that the group was listening to him before continuing, "but for those of us that have Water abilities it seems to increase this effect ten fold. No one really knows why, but our healing abilities seem to continually rejuvenate us, by what I have been told, barring death in battle, I could live for another 3 centuries such is my strength as a Tashiri Aqua. Over the last several centuries I have seen the members of my own Qalm die, both in battle and from old age. I mourn their loss, but it was no one battle that took my fellows from me. Since that day, near on a hundered years ago I have spent my time in preparation to become a Hetat. I have learned much, taught some, and have grown as a warrior. Hopefully, I will be able to impart some of what I have learned to you."


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## apidude

*Aalrik - Wood Elf - Wood Walker*

Aalrik listened closely as Nesrim spoke. Although the tone was light, he heard in the man's voice a sense of loss for the things time had taken from him. Then Aalrik, with a start, realized that, to the Hetat, adopting a new Qalm became the start of a new family and a connection with what had been bef0re.

Thinking of this, he said to the giant, "Nesrim, How many Qalm's have you trained in your lifetime? How did you become the Hetat of our group?"

Looking around the room, Aalrik said, "I have heard that there are more Tashiri being found than in years past. Do you know why and, perhaps, what role our Qualm will play?"


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## Midge913

As Nesrin looks at you Aalrik his gaze seems to look into you, for a moment he looks sad, but quickly puts a smile on his face. It is as if he was lost for a moment in his memories. 

"To answer your first question Aalrik, you will be the first Qalm that I will lead, and theoretically the only Qalm I should ever be assigned to. As I told you a Qalm, once formed, is never broken while more than one of its members remains. As for how I became your Hetat, I am the newest of that rank, just as you are the newest of yours. We grow together." Nesrin said the last with a slow smile. 

"As to the role of our Qalm.... Well youngling, that remains to be seen. We will do as the Radan commands."


----------



## Angel of Blood

Nesrin introduced himself properly to the assembled Tashiri. He exaplined them what a Hetat was and his history as one of the Tashiri, also displaying an impressive feat of wind and water manipulation as he did so. Sol could feel the subtle and controlled way in which Nesrin controlled the furies. He explained that a Qalm was essentially a family, that they would likely spend the rest of their lives together, living, fighting and dying alongside each other. Sol looked at the assembled warriors he was to spend the rest of time with and dubiously raised his eyebrows and folded his arms, this would take some getting used to he thought to himself. 

Nesrin was asked questions by various members of the Qalm and answered them in turn. When he was finished answering the questions of Wood Elf, Sol leaned forwards and asked Nesrin the question that he was most concerned about. "All this is well and good, but when are we going to take the fight to the enemy? Whilst it's all very nice to sit around and chat, i want to use my abilitys as they should be used. Protecting the free people!" He glared around at the others, daring anyone to disagree with him.


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## Midge913

Nesrin fixes you, Sol, with a stern glare. But you can tell that a hint of a smile and perhaps an ounce of pride hides behind the glare. 

"Soon enough Sol, soon enough. The ceremony tonight is most important for us as a Qalm and the feast will no doubt be one to remember. It has been a long time since a full Qalm has been raised from the ranks of the apprentices. So tonight, celebrate, and learn of each other. For I am sure that we shall receive our first assignment soon."


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## Djinn24

I sit back listening to the rest of the members speaking, choosing to let them ask the questions and to remain quiet. Watching his manipulation of the furies, I can not help but to feel impressed, his power is great, and if either a worthy enemy or friend, not knowing this answer right now. Knowing in my heart that he is the leader of our Qalm and should be our closest ally I feel some distrust towards him on principle that he is advanced to what we are. It is probably nothing more then my over cautious nature. I look around the table and see the other people that will be protecting my life and I theirs. We seems to be a force but right now there is no unity between us and that bothers me the most. Even though my nature is suspicious I know now I am here, and here for good.

Sadly I wonder to myself which will be proven the weakest link and pass in to the raw elements of the power of the fury.


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## Jackinator

*Isira*

Isira remained sat as the others questioned the Hetat, listening into their conversations. She was still somewhat in awe of his delicate skill, it must have taken years of practise to approach that level. She hoped that one day she too would be comparable in skill. But she hoped she would not become a Hetat, she might not know or trust the warriors of her Qalm, but she would not wish death on them, and as they had a water specialist he was likely to outlive them all it seemed. She smiled sadly to herself, she would not wish that on anyone either, to live on without their companions. She glanced around the table, seeing another who had taken her approach, a dark skinned human who seemed deep in thought. He himself is looking around the table, seemingly making his own judgements of the people he saw, he seemed about as distrustful as she...


----------



## Lord Ramo

Robb had sat in silence as their new hetat Nesrin explained to them everything that they would need to know in the coming days, they were a qalm and needed to act like a family if they were going to survive. As Robb sat in silence a few more Tashiri joined them, Robb noted who they were and their reactions to everything that was spoken of round the table. Robb noted one of them was impatient, unable to sit still but immediately wanted to take the fight to the enemy.

This was one Robb would have to keep an eye on, he was a danger to the entire Qalm. If you could call it a Qalm. Several members obviously had trust issues, though the other seemed to be getting on a lot better and would hopefully be able to deal with any threat in battle, as a team. Robb looked at Nesrin before speaking, *"What would you say is the reason of more and more Tashiri being recruited. I am sure we have heard the rumors, but do the other Tashiri know what is causing it, and whether or not we are about to see a period of fighting?"*


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## Santaire

Zacarish almost spat in derision. The human, Sol, wanted to get back in the fight as soon as possible. He was a danger to the entire group and his thirst for battle could cause their deaths. The man was a loose card and Zacarish made a mental note to keep an eye on him. Isira was as quiet as ever and several others had asked questions or remained silent. Zacarish allowed himself a small smile at the sight of another member of his race. Despite his grim question Belak seemed to have an open soul and a kind manner. Zacarish hoped he would be able to count the warrior as a friend.

Zacarish stayed silent, even when Nesrin's gaze passed over him. He was not yet ready to talk to the members of his new 'family' for he wanted to judge their personality before he tried to talk to them...


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## Djinn24

OOC: Check out the recruitment thread fro an announcement.


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## Bane_of_Kings

Solomon frowned, glancing around at the others who seemed deeply engaged with their conversations, to each other - and asking questions to Nesrin. Seeing that it looked like the right thing to do at the time, the water wielder decided to speak, words forming on his mouth, but then - the sentance was lost. He couldn't think of anything to say that hadn't been said already. So, he decided to talk to some more of his Tashiri. Trying again, seeming rather foolish, he repeated, "Hello, erm... I'm Solomon. Solomon Lok."


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## Midge913

"That is quite the mystery to the scholars of the Order Robb," Nesrin answered, " I personally think that things in the Dark Lands have been too quiet in the last several hundred years. Where we have seen an increase in activity of Taurog and the Vicery, the Magoth have been too quiet for my liking. It has been almost 50 years since the last one was seen and the last major incursion was almost 200 years ago. To me it seems as if they are biding their time. It makes me uneasy. Something is coming, a storm on the horizon so to speak, and I think that it is going to take every warrior at our disposal to meet it. Only time will tell." 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
All: As you all are speaking with Nesrin, you are interrupted by a voice from the entrance to the Great Hall. Looking you see an Order serf standing there who indicates that your Qalm has been summoned for the Ceremony. Nesrin tells you all to follow his lead during the ceremony, but other than that to enjoy the feast Following the serf through the hall you again reflect on the austere nature of the Temple. There is a serene beauty in its blank stone walls and towering columns. You all are a bit nervous as the serf leads you deeper into the temple, as you have never been in these halls before. The serf stops at a massive set of oaken double doors, and knocks three times. The doors seem to swing open of their own accord and as the opening doors begin to reveal the room you see that this massive hall is filled with warriors, all wearing the traditional ivory garb. Red sashes are everywhere and here and there you see amongst the crowd the occasional purple sash, identical to Nesrin's. You are lead to the front of the room, to the first table, as the stoic warriors of the order stand silently all around you, a feeling of power almost palpable in the air. Looking to the slightly raised dias at the front of the room a couple of sights meet your eyes: First off to the rightside of the room is a large pool, surrounded by a waist high stone wall that is covered in ancient looking runes and sigils. Next to this pool is a very ornate table, at which 11 people stand in front of their seats. 10 of the warriors here, 6 men and 4 women, all wear the traditional garb of the Tashiri yet they bear black sashes with golden trim,but it is the last individual, positioned in the middle of the table, that captures your attention. He wears a long flowing white robe, and despite his age, carries himself with the air of a still capable warrior. Power thrums about him and you cannot help but be in awe and respect this man. As you situate yourselves at the table the man in white begins to speak.

"Welcome my brothers," he says gesturing to the entire hall,"please take your seats, enjoy the food, enjoy each others company." He looks directly at your table and says, "Welcome to the Order my friends. After the meal we will see your oaths given and your bonds of brotherhood affirmed."

As he sits the entire hall sits with him and the room floods with serfs bearing trays of food and drink. You eat your fill, the food superb, you note that it is much better than the fare that you ever had as an apprentice, and through out the meal you talk and joke with your companions, all filled with nervous energy as to what is to come. You are greeted and congratulated by many of the warriors in the hall and their immediate acceptance of your presence among them fills you will pride and a sense of accomplishment. 

After the meal is completed, The man in the white robe stands and motions for your group to come forward to the dias, and he walks over to the pool. Nesrin goes to stand next to him and directs you all to surround the pool. The man in white asks you if you are ready to proceed, and after you all indicate you are he waves a hand and the flames in the torches around the hall dim and go out plunging the hall into darkness, save for an odd glow that comes from the water in the pool. The man in white begins to speak.

" Brethren," the hall echoes with his baritone voice," we gather this evening to affirm the oaths of these new warriors in the way that we have for hundreds of years, tonight we bind these new warriors to the order and to each other." Directing his comments to your group he continues," Place your right arm into the pool younglings." As you do the water glows brighter and as the man in white touches the surface of the pool tendrils of the liquid snake up your arms. " This oath is complex in its simplicity my brothers, and when I finish all you must say is yes." Nodding that you understand you feel Furies, perhaps thousands of them begin to stir in the air, the water of the pool, the stones beneath your feet, and you know that it is the man in white that commands them, and you are humbled by his power. He begins to speak in a voice heavy with ritual and emotion.

"As we have done for centuries so we do tonight, tonight you become one of the order, full and true." You are startled as blue white flames erupt over the surface of the pool, and snake up the tendrils of water that already hold your arms. You can feel a presence in the water, a powerful Fury and a powerful mind. You can feel the water and the fire settle into your skin. "Your oath is simple and I will ask it only once, for you are bound to it for the entirety of your life. Do you vow to do the work of the Order, protecting the people of this world from meriad of evils that assail them? Do you promise to give your lives, if necessary, in the execution of those duties? And do you pledge, with all the abilities and powers you possess, to be the bastion of hope and freedom for all the free peoples? If you take on this responsibilty so answer." The last was undoubtedly a command and as you murmur your assent with your companions, you feel the heat of the blue flames in your blood. You feel the weight of the oath that you just took press into your very skin. The man in white continues," finally do you pledge to protect the lives of those in this circle, your Qalm, your family. To come to their aid no matter where or when they need it. To treat them as your brothers and sisters. To work together to do the work of the Order and to battle the enemies that press against us on all sides." Looking around the circle of Warriors, new to you, yet now familiar, you all murmur your assent. As you do the blue flames flare pure white and through the connection of the pool you can literally feel each of the members of your Qalm as a presence in your mind. 

Suddenly the flames in the pool go out, the waters recede from your arms, and the torches in the hall flare back to life piercing the darkness. 

"Welcome to the Order my brothers," the man in white finishes and walks around the circle embracing each of you in turn. "Now go sleep and be rested, for tomorrow your life as a warrior of the order begins." 

With that he walks back to his table and exits through a door to the side of the hall. 

All: You are lead back to your dormitory by an Order Serf and you reflect on the ceremony. You are also startled by the fact that you have a vague sense of where each of the members in your Qalm are. You feel as though if they were mixed in with the rest of the Warriors in that Grand Hall, you could walk to each of them blind folded. 

You all get back to the Great Hall and Nesrin tells you all that he has received your first set of orders and that you will be leaving first thing in the morning, and directs each of you to retire to your rooms to sleep and prepare. He walks to the end of the hall, places his hand on the stone that fills the doorway and you watch as it melts away under his touch. You retire to your own rooms, reflecting on the significance of what you just went through, and filled with excitement at what will be your first assignment as a full warrior of the Order.


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam*

Adam listened intently as the others gave voice to their own concerns and were answered in turn by Nesrin. The large man held wisdom unexpected for one of his calling, at least in Adam`s opinion. But then again, he was far more experienced than the young wind walker by a long shot, so such was to be expected really. 

It was not much longer when a serf appeared in the doorway, addressing the group that they were summoned to the main ceremony hall. 

Nesrin thanked the man, then informed them to follow his lead. Far from being stern however, he reinforced that the ceremony was a celebration as much as an initiation. Adam was somewhat relieved to hear that. He`d never really been fond of strict diciplines, and the prospect of food was making it all the harder to wait. 

He took note of the man who had spoken up earlier. Solomon Lok. He seemed to have issues with speaking out. 

--- --- ---​
While approaching the ceremony hall, Adam took it on himself to ask Solomon a few questions to put his fellow diciple at ease. 

'Hello there friend. Solomon was it?' Adam asked, walking beside the warrior. 'My name is Adam Jameson, I am a wind walker of the Air Furies. May I ask what your talents are Sir?'

He conversed further as they walked, seeking to do away with any awkwardness.

--- --- ---​
Once at the hall, there was a short time to mingle freely with the others. Adam could feel the power in the room; a real, tangible force consisting of dozens of Tashiri warriors in proximity. The atmosphere was alive with positive energy and congratulations from his fellow warriors. He was truly proud this day, never before had his life held so much meaning. At the head of the hall, he glimpsed an elder man wearing a different uniform than the rest. 

_He must be in charge here or something._ Adam thought.

Not long after, they were all called to the table and were seated. Adam took a seat facing across from Sol, remembering the man from earlier as he failed to keep his aggression in check. 

He hadn`t been introduced directly yet, and decided now was as good a time as any. he waited for the elder man to finish speaking before he addressed Sol directly. 

'Tell me Sol.' He spoke up. 'I am curious to know just why you find yourself so eager to spill blood? Has your mind no thought for peacful solutions?'


----------



## apidude

*Aalrik - Wood Walker - Wood Elf*

Aalrik sat quietly as the others talked with Nesrin. _The Hetat's personality was pleasant and engaging, open and honest...a man that could be trusted, _he thought. 

"That is quite the mystery to the scholars of the Order Robb," Nesrin had answered, " I personally think that things in the Dark Lands have been too quiet in the last several hundred years. Where we have seen an increase in activity of Taurog and the Vicery, the Magoth have been too quiet for my liking. It has been almost 50 years since the last one was seen and the last major incursion was almost 200 years ago. To me it seems as if they are biding their time. It makes me uneasy. Something is coming, a storm on the horizon so to speak, and I think that it is going to take every warrior at our disposal to meet it. Only time will tell."

_Well, that would explain why there are more Tashiri now than there were and confirms my own feeling,_ Aalrik thought.

----

Aalrik continued to mull over what Nesrin had said, throughout the ceremony and the feast. He felt a sense of coming into his own as the ceremony washed away all doubts and cemented him to the members of his Qalm. 

His Qalm....

....he could feel them. At the edge of his consciousness he felt whispers of presence, even more ephemeral than the furies of the Wood. If he concentrated he could sense where each individual was in relationship to himself in both direction and distance. 

For nearly six decades he had been observing from the edge of the whirlwind, watching as Tashiri apprentices were found and brought to the temple. With some he had become friends during their training. He had watched as they grew to full Tashiri, capable and confident in their powers. He had seen them after they had been commissioned and he had watched them leave on the orders of the Order. He had been there when some of them had returned, shocked and battle hardened and with their dead and seriously wounded being carried on litters or floated by the furies of the air. 

He had lost many friends in the battles the Tashiri fought.

He had no illusions. The earth itself, Water, Wood, Metal, Fire, Earth, and Air, was preparing. He could sense it in the forests around the Temple. Battle was coming and now he was finally ready to take part.

He had grown up yearning to join the Order as his parents had...to protect what was sacrosanct...the Earth and its people. Now he was here, a fully dedicated Tashiri. He looked at each member of the Qalm as they returned to the Great Hall outside their quarters. 

_These are my true brothers and sisters,_ he thought. _But am I ready to die for them? I don't know yet. Several here are still unknown to me. ..but they have passed all the tests the Temple could devise and the final ceremoney bound them to me as it did me to them._ 

Nesrin interrupted his thoughts. "After the ceremony tonight we are bound together in ways that you aren't fully aware of as yet. You will grow and learn to use that to become a complete unit...a true Qalm." He paused, looking at a small slip of parchment in his hand. "I also received as I left the Great Hall orders for our first assignment. We leave in the morning. Rest and get ready to leave the Temple in the morning...early." he said grimly.

Aalrik watched as the Hetat left the hall and turned to his room. He was going to check his armor and weapons and pack. _It is time. _ he thought. _I've had enough watching and waiting. I am ready._ He concentrated and could sense the others around him....


----------



## Angel of Blood

A serf interrupted the talk around the table and bid them to proceed to the main Ceremony. They all rose from the table and followed the serf though the temples many halls, he led them through halls and corridors Sol had never set foot in before and from the look of the others, niether had they. Sol was aprehensive as they continued on, only slightly nervous at the moment, more than anything he was looking forward to fully becoming a member of the order and getting on with fighting the enemies of the Free People. Evnetually the serf stopped at a set of impressive oak doors which swung open on their own as they approached. 

Sol stepped through the doors into an enormous hall full of Tashiri. There were warriors of the order from all the free races represented throughout the hall, the vast majority sported red sashes like the one tied around Sols waist, but there were also several Hetats present wearing the same purple sash Nesrin wore. Sol was awed and humbled by the sight of so many present to welcome them into the order. Though normally so confident and sure of himself, Sol now felt nervous and unsteady infront of the majority of the order. They were ushered to a table at the front of the hall and took their places around it. 

There were two highly noticeable things in the hall. First was a rune etched and walled pool that was strangely enthralling. Next to it was an important looking table with just under a dozen people behind it. All but one of the men and woman wore destinct black, gold trimmed sashes, Sol wondered if they indicated them as being a council of sorts for the order, but the last individual captured his attention more. Clad in a elegant white robe, the man projected an aura of power and respect. Sol almost felt the need to kneel before him. He welcomed them all to the order and bade them to sit down and for now enjoy the feast.

Everybody sat down and serfs appeared laden with trays of food and drink that they laid out onto the table. They all helped themselves to the food and drink, some of the Tashiri in the hall came over to the table throughout the feast to personally welcome them. A man across from him, Adam he thought leaned over and said to Sol *"Tell me Sol. I am curious to know just why you find yourself so eager to spill blood? Has your mind no thought for peacful solutions?"*. 

Anger flared up in him at the mans words and Sol bit back "Peaceful solution? Let me guess Adam, you come from one of the nice peaceful countries, growing up nice and safe, maybe a little rough at times. I'm from Opun, ever had the pleasure of going? We spend our lives under constant assault from the Naggarond, raiding the cities within the country, killing people, including my parents! They broke the supposed truce as the others did. There will be no peaceful solution Adam, this war will end with their defeat and their defeat only!" He turned away from the man, but before he could talk to anyone else the main the white robes stood up and beaconed them to the poolside and dimmed the torches around the hall, leaving a glowing light coming from within the pool. 

He instructed them to put their arm in the pool. As they did the water started to twist its way up along their arms. Intwining itself with Sols tattoos in a strange combination. Sol could feel the furies in the air beggining to surge and felt the power radiating from the man, clearly immensly powerful. He began speaking an oath of the order and the water errupted into white flame and swirled up the tendrils of his arm, though whether it was his fire abilities or something else, the fire didn't hurt. As Sol confirmed the oath he suddenly realised he could almost feel the other members of his Qualm, as if they were a distant extension of himself. With the induction completed they were led back to the Great Hall where Nesrin revealed to them that they had received their first orders as a Qualm before sending them back to the rooms for some well earned rest.


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## Serpion5

*Adam*

Adam`s question was met with a furious reply from Sol that spoke of a life of misery.

*'Peaceful solution? Let me guess Adam, you come from one of the nice peaceful countries, growing up nice and safe, maybe a little rough at times. I'm from Opun, ever had the pleasure of going? We spend our lives under constant assault from the Naggarond, raiding the cities within the country, killing people, including my parents! They broke the supposed truce as the others did. There will be no peaceful solution Adam, this war will end with their defeat and their defeat only!' *

Adam was appalled at this but held his tongue. It would have been so easy to bite back, to tell of his own life forced to live as a thief and constantly evade capture. He could tell of the times he had been forced to take a life to ensure his own survival. He could tell of the girl he could have loved had she not been claimed by cruel fate and torn away from him...

But he did not, instead only offering a silent apologetic shake of his head. Before any conversation could resume, they were called by the elder. The time of the ritual had come. At the command of the leader, the entire group stood encircling a pool of water. Kneeling, each of them placed their arm in the pool and the water snaked up, infusing them with the flowing energy of countless furies as it wove through their forms. He could feel the connection between him and the others as they were bonded as a qualm.

He could feel the mistrust in Isira`s mind, the doubt in Solomon`s, the quiet judgements of some others and the anger and rage of Sol. 

As repellant as it was, they were being bound to one another in both spirit and purpose. He could sense **** at the back of his mind absorbing the energy of the union, scrutinising the other`s furies even as Adam himself scrutinised his counterparts. After a short time, the ritual was complete, and they were truly counted among the Tashiri. 

'Welcome to the Order my brothers.' The elder descended and embraced each of them one by one. 'Now go sleep and be rested, for tomorrow your life as a warrior of the order begins.' 

--- --- ---​
With nothing left there, Adam had returned to his room, the constant backdrop of distant yet close thoughts playing out in the recesses of his mind. He tried not to be too distracted as he lay back on his bed.

_We are all one now._ He thought.

_Can you sense them?_ **** asked. 

_Almost as easily as I sense you._ He replied. _I imagine this connection will grow stronger as time goes on. I wonder, do you think it possible that this melding of many minds will adversely affect any of the individuals involved?_

_I don`t understand._ **** said.

_I mean, do you think the mentality of say, Sol, might in turn affect my own aggression? Make me more like him?_ It was a disconcerting thought. 

_I do not know, the bond between Tashiri is not exactly like the bond between furies. There are some differences._ She answered. _But on the other hand, perhaps your influence among others will go a ways to quelling his hatred?_ 

Adam laughed. Whether it was possible or not, it was quite an amusing thought...


----------



## Jackinator

*Isira*

Isira tensed as she felt the power in the man, then her eyes widened in alarm as the water surged from the pool, entwining around her arm and writhing up her flesh. She tried to pull back, but the liquid held her fast. Then, without warning flames erupted in the pool, surging up the water that held their arms and flaring as it sank into her skin, the water followed. There was no pain, and the man spoke the words of an oath, they were simple, but she could feel the power in them, and more, she could feel the power of whatever dwelt within the pool. Her throat was dry, rasping, but she gasped an affirmative to the oath. The flames flared again, white now, harsh, blinding to her enhanced sight but just as quickly they were gone as both water and fire disappeared. She felt their power flare in her veins, it was not unpleasant, but nor did she enjoy it. It was as though she were no longer alone in her body. Then she gasped, there was something else, other prescences in her mind. burning anger, doubt, and another calming presence as well as many others. She felt, not thoughts, but personalities flow into her mind. Just a background murmur, like water, building to a roar. She felt the emotions wash over her, soothing, calming, unsure, angry, each one making her more confused. She shut her eyes and resisted it, breathing deeply, forcing it down to a murmur at the back of her mind.
________________________________________________________________________

With no reason to remain at the feast she returned quickly to her room, shutting the door securely. She went back to the bed, sitting down, then lying down and closing her eyes. She opened her mind once again, letting the feelings wash over her. She felt each member of the Qalm in her mind, she only wondered if the connection would grow, and feared what might happen if it should...


----------



## Djinn24

Following with the rest behind the Serf I let my mind wander. I can still feel the burning coolness of the flaming water on my skin from earlier. In some ways it scared me and it made my blood boil in ways that I have not felt before. We arrive in our hall and the rest start breaking off and going to their respected room. I walk to my door and enter. I llight a candle with a flick of my mind and begin to undress. I go through my ritual stretches to loosen my body before I go to bed. I open my mind and catch the flame of the candle and form it like a weapon flinging it around the room. This helps me still my racing mind as I become one with the flame.

Once I am done I reach up and loosen my topknot, removing the three golden bands that hold it in place. My hair cascades down. I walk to the mirrors and splash water in my face, using a bar of soap to was the sweat from my body before applying oils to my skin. I climb into bed and relax my mind thinking of the assembled group as the darkness envelopes my mind.


----------



## Midge913

All: After the completion of the feast you all go to bed, intrigued by the sensation that the bonding has left on you. The more time that passes after the ceremony, the more the bond fades until you are no longer able to feel the raw emotions flowing from your companions, just general impressions and locations. Sleep comes easily to you as the day has been long and trying, full of combat, revelry, travel, food, and drink. 

You are awoken by a loud banging on your door. You hear Nesrin's voice yelling for you to get up and meet him in the Great Hall for breakfast and you hear him move down the hall waking the other Tashiri of your Qalm. Entering the great hall you will find that Nesrin is already seated, drinking a strong, fragrant tea, and eating a hearty breakfast that has obviously been prepared and served by Serfs of the Order. As you all finally enter the hall, take your seats, and begin to eat, Nesrin stands and begins to speak. 

"Good morning younglings," he begins, "as I told you last night I received orders for our first mission. As some of you already know, a large swarm of Vicery assailed the Main Walls last night. By the efforts of several different Qalms, as well as some of you, the swarm was repelled and destroyed to the last. More often than not when a swarm attack, the location of the hive that spawned it remains unknown. Most of the Vicery race lives deep in the barren deserts that surround the country of Namanole and as such it is rare for someone to witness a swarm take flight. Such was not the case this time. An arial merchant caravan happened to be passing from Borkan to Namanole when the lead fliers, Tashiri Warriors of course, witnessed the Swarm rise out of the desert and head this way. That was how we got advance notice that the Vicery were on their way here." Nesrin paused for a moment and took a long draught of the tea that sat in front of him. Closing his eyes in obvious contentment at the taste for a second he continued," Fortunately for us, the Tashiri Aria that were assigned to the caravan left markers where the entrance to the hive was, and we have been tasked, along with two other Qalms, to assault the hive, and destroy what we can. It has been decades since we have had an opportunity to take the fight to the Vicery, and the Radan does not want to pass up our moment of advantage. We will assault quickly and hopefully destroy that particular nest in the process."

His gaze roams around the room resting on each one of you, a genuinely excited smile growing on his face. "This is a true honor for us younglings, there will be much glory in this engagement for those who seek it. Fisish eating, go gather your weapons and belongings, and meet me on the Landing 9 in one hours time. We will be travelling by flying carriage." With that he stands, having finished his meal, and leaves the great hall. 

All: You can discuss the mission briefly if you wish with each other before you gather your weapons and armor and report to the Landing as ordered.


----------



## Djinn24

A loud pounding interupted my sleep. I leep to my feet thinking another invasion was surely happening but realized that it was only the call for breakfast. Shaking the last bits of sleep from my head I hurry to prepare myself. Pulling my topknot up and fastening it with the three thick golden rings that hold it into place taut. I walk down to the eating area and see Nesrin sitting there drinking from a steaming cup.

Once everyone come in and seats themself Nesrin goes into how they have found the nest and we as a Qalm will be going after them. I feel my blood quicken hearing this news and begin planning in my head what I will take with me to our first mission.


----------



## Lord Ramo

Robb stood from the table as the qualm headed out of the huge area of the fortress to the grand hall. A serf informed them that they would be needed at the ceremony now, finally Robb would become a full member of the Tashiri order. Maybe he was being disrespectful, carrying his blade as he headed into the hall, but it was too late for him to head back to his room to deposit fang. He hoped that he would be forgiven for the transgression but still. They followed the surf until they came to a set if huge wooden doors, that swung in by themselves.

Robb couldn't help but be impressed with the hall, as well as the figures in the hall. One figure took his attention completely, flowing white robes the man was old beyond belief. However it was his power that Robb felt, Robb was sure that every Tashiri in the hall could feel the power that emanated from him. They were soon seated after being greeted and food and drink was rushed into the room around them. Robb helped himself to wine and basic foods, all the food was fantastic, far superior to what Robb had had to survive on when he was just a trainee. Soon he had eaten his fill, the food was too rich for him, too tasteful. He wasn't used to this yet.

Soon the meal ended, serfs taking the now empty dishes out of the hall as the man summoned his qualm over to a pool, telling them to put their hands in. Robb did so, looking round as the qualm did the same. It was a weird sensation, as they recieted the oath straight back to the man in white. Suddenly Robb could feel a weird sensation, one which startled him as he began to feel the members of his qualm. He could sense vaguely were they were in relation to him, and that startled him but it wasn't too uncomfortable.

The new Tashiri were brought back to their quarters, Robb not speaking a word to his fellow qualm as they moved to their quarters. He could feel them well enough, and Robb entered his quarters before turning to his new "family". *"Goodnight then all, pleasant sleep." * With that he entered his quarters, securing the door behind him. *"Terros come."* Robb said as he strode to his weapon rack, placing fang carefully in its position. 

His fury leapt from out of nowhere, landing next to him in an instance. Robb smiled as he knelt next to his wolf, stroking his fur. He could feel the metal in his fur, "Strange isn't it, these people who we have only just met are now intertwined with us." Terros didn't respond, Robb didn't expect him to. After a few moments Robb got up, and moved to his desk. He pulled out parchment and ink and wrote a letter to his father, thanking him for the magnificent armor. 

He moved to his bed, settling down before falling asleep. He awoke with a loud bang on his door, signalling that it was time for him to get up. He did so without a problem, heading over to his wash basin and he sprayed his face with cold water. He washed himself quickly before donning his ivory colored garmenants and pulled his chain mail vest on. He may have need of it, and if not he could always just return to his room. Robb exited his room, Fang back at his side as he walked into the hall to break his fast.

He got himself a plate of bacon, bread and eggs, sitting down he helped himself to his tasteful meal. When he finished along with the rest of the Qualm Nesrin spoke. They were going to go and hunt down those that attacked yesterday and kill their nests. Robb felt a surge of anticipation hit him, he was ready for this. He stood, moving to Sven before he made his way back to his room. *"Sven, looks like our first mission is an exciting one, fraught with perils and the such."* He had a smile on his face as he left the hall, heading to his room quickly to don the rest of his war gear.

He placed his throwing knives in their hidden places around his body, and his dagger in his boot. A small pouch of sharpened silver stakes, tiny but perfect to use as his metal storm he placed on his belt near fang as he grabbed his wolf helm and shield, the wolf proud and defiant on it. He exited his room, waiting outside for anyone that may want a conversation on the way to the landing.


----------



## Santaire

The night passed in a blur for Zacarish, he felt as if he was not experiencing the events, merely watching them happen. He followed his Qalm through to the hall and sat with them at the table after listening to the leader of the Tashiri order. Zacarish was in awe of the powerful man and could feel the power radiating from him. The dinner passed quickly as well and Zacarish returned to his senses in time for the oath to be taken. He walked forward with his Qalm and placed his arm in the water. He almost recoiled from the flames as they spread up his arm but he calmed himself, using the exercises his mentor had taught him. He mostly used them to block out his anger but they were useful for other things too. The flames spread up his arm and Zacarish could feel the power in the water. A fury was in it and it possessed a powerful mind.

Zacarish murmured his assent to the oath and the flames subsided, leaving in their place something that shocked him even more. He could feel the other members of his Qalm and discern their surface thoughts. All were in awe of what had just happened although Zacarish spotted a few differences. Sol was thinking bloody thoughts of revenge and Adam was worried about his aggression. He stopped himself before he could probe further for he realized that what he was doing was invasive and that it would make him loose what little respect he already had.

They walked back to their rooms and Zacarish nodded to Isira as he slipped through the door into his room. He walked over to the bed and lay back on it. He was awed by what he had just been a part of and he could still sense the other members of his Qalm as they fell asleep. As he touched Adam he felt another, external presence that he realized must be Adam’s manifested fury for he had heard others speak of their connection with their furies. He laid his head back and closed his eyes, falling into a peaceful slumber…
________________________________________________

He awoke to a loud banging on the door to his room and the vice of Nesrin yelling that it was time to move. He was up and moving before the older Tashiri had finished shouting. He pulled on a new set of clothes and slipped his leaf blades into them before walking to his armoire. He opened it and pulled out his armour. Though simple in design it was dazzling to the eye, the work of Zacarish himself t was still exactly the same as he had first made it. The scale armour was dotted with flecks of silver so that the whole suit seemed to shine. Zacarish pulled on his leather armour first though. He finished pulling on the greaves and the vambraces before he started on his scale armour.

He pulled it on quickly and turned to his weapons. He took Chablys out first, the long blade resting in his hands for a moment before he slung it on his back. Next he pulled out his long dagger and strapped the sheath to his leg. His throwing knives were the last but definitely not the least. He strapped the sheathes that contained them to his lower back before finally reaching in and pulling his helmet out reverently. Where his armour had been a work of art his helmet was a masterpiece. It is a full face helmet with only 2 eye slits showing that there is someone wearing it. It was shaped like the head of a dragon with two small black horns pointing backwards. What made it even more frightening was the fact that the eye slits were covered by red glass, disguising the fact that the warrior wearing the helmet was a member of any of the free races. The faceplate had a grill on it that allowed the Dark Elf warrior to breathe.

He walked out into the hallway, seeing Rob dressed in similarly impressive armour as himself. Strapping his helmet to his belt Zacarish walked over to the human metal walker. “What do you think of this?” he asked his fellow Tashiri and Qalm member…


----------



## The Forgotten

Belak felt the heat of the flames spread up his arms but somehow he was not burnt. He shivered slightly and then realized that he could feel something, it was faint but when he focussed on it he realized that it, they, were feelings. He then realized, with astonishment that he quickly covered, that he could sense the members of his Qalm, there was Sol’s impatience and Isira’s nervousness. It was an amazing sensation, to be able to feel the other members of his Qalm. He felt sure that, if blindfolded, he would be able to find his way to all of them with ease.

As they all left the hall and returned to their rooms Belak was silent. He walked into his room swiftly and climbed into the bed. He was asleep as soon as his head touched the pillow…
__________________________________________________

He woke and climbed out of bed. As he stood he heard a thudding at the door and Nesrin yelling. Belak stretched and pulled on the clothes he had hung up the night before. He then walked over to his armoire and carried the chest containing his equipment, placing it beside his bed. He opened the chest and pulled out all his equipment, laying it carefully on the bed. First, he pulled on his armour. He fitted the breastplate before pulling on the back plate and strapping them together. Then, he pulled out his long sword. He pulled the sword out of its scabbard and inspected it, running a finger down the blade. He pulled the finger away and saw a faint line of blood where the blade had cut through the skin. He slid the blade back into its scabbard and slung the scabbard onto his back. Next he picked up his short sword and slid it out of its scabbard. He inspected it and its black blade seemed to absorb the light. He strapped it to his left hip before turning to his throwing knives. He sheathed them in the scabbards strapped to his lower back.

Finally he picked up the dagger that had been a gift from a wealthy noble whose life he had saved. He pulled the blade out of its scabbard and inspected it, running a whetstone up the blade. Satisfied that it was sharp enough he sheathed it again before strapping it to his right hip. Thus armed and dressed for war he left his room and walked over to join Zacarish and Rob who were already out in the corridor. Both were dressed in amazing armour. Zacarish seemed to shine with the light reflecting off the hundreds of tiny scales that formed his armour while his helmet was a truly terrifying visage of a dragon’s head. Rob was accompanied by a huge wolf made entirely of metal and his helmet was shaped like a snarling wolf head. His armour looked like mithril although Belak couldn’t tell as he was no great smith.

He felt honoured to be able to fight alongside such warriors and he walked to join them as he waited for the others to emerge…


----------



## apidude

*Aalrik Faengoed -Wood Elf-Wood Walker*

Nesrin's gaze roamed around the room resting on each one of the new Tashiri, a genuinely excited smile growing on his face. "This is a true honor for us younglings, there will be much glory in this engagement for those who seek it. Finish eating, go gather your weapons and belongings, and meet me on the Landing 9 in one hours time. We will be travelling by flying carriage." With that he stood, with a wide grin, having finished his meal, and left the great hall. He walked with a spring in his step and strode from the room as he couldn't wait to move to their task.


Aalrik watched him leave. The heft of Nesrin's shoulders and the stretch of his stride clearly showing that he was impatient to start. 
_
Well, _Aalrik thought, _I am too._ He quickly ladled some eggs on a roll, snatched up a few sausages and grabbed a beaker of Caffe, and hurried to his room. While he ate, he donned his armor, a tight fitting leather tunic with fitted ribs spars of hardwood woven between two flexible leather layers. As Aalrik tightened the straps to pull the armor tight to his torso he reached out and touched the wood with power of his Wood fury. He felt the presence of the wood and its spirit....and began to shift the structure of the wood, hardening it. 

In the space of a single breath the wood beneath the leather was as strong as steel. He relaxed it into its normal mode and, like a runner stretching before a race, he quickly hardened the armor and relaxed it several times until it hardened instantly at a thought.

He fastened his belt as he chewed the last of his improvised meal, swallowed a bit of the Caffe and slid Ziphos into its sheathe on his back. The handle of the large two handed sword stuck above his shoulder at an angle that allowed for a cutting draw. His other sword, Aor, and his dagger went into their sheathes at his hips. 

He gulped the last of the Caffe as he strapped his quiver of arrows onto his back so that the arrows protruded above his other shoulder and placed his helm on his head.

He grabbed his shield, its light weight due to its construction - wooden and leather layers bonded together into a disc. He sent the power of his fury into the wood of the shield and felt the hardening of the wood. He spun it in his hands then stuck his arm through the armband at its edge and grabbed its handle.

With the other hand he grabbed his empty cup and his knapsack of spare rations and emergency gear and hurried back to the Great Hall. 

There were several of the new Tashiri who had finished their meals and were leaving to get their gear and there were others, like Aalrik, who returned to the hall with their gear to resume their meal.

Aalrik refilled his cup with the hot liquid and sipped gingerly. _This batch is hotter than the first batch. They must have refilled it._ he thought.

He said to the room at large. "Marakesh, Adam, you are Air Walkers. Were either of you or Isira with the Tasiri Aria who reported the swarm and the location of the hive? Do you know anything?"


----------



## Lord Ramo

Robb stood proud and tall in the corridor as he awaited some of his brethren to emerge from their quarters, ready to fight the vile creatures that threatened the free Kingdoms. He held his wolf helm in the crook of his arm, his shield tied by straps to his back. Robb smiled as his other hand stayed on Fang, it would soon taste the blood of the enemies of the Tashiri, and he was sure that its thirst would be sated for the moment. He quickly checked himself over, ensuring that his armor, perfectly balanced between speed and strength was on correctly, he was glad to see it was. 

With a thought Terros appeared beside him once more, his fury knew that soon they would be thrust into combat and was eager to kill. Robb found himself chuckling at Terros fury, Terros was a great wolf, and would be very useful for Robb in the coming fight. Soon he was joined by Zacarish, the dark elven air and metal walker. Robb nodded at him, noting his incredible war like appearance. His armor shone in the dim light, but his helm is what fascinated Robb the most about the armor. It was shaped as a dragon head, with a grill for him to breath out of whilst two eye slits, covered in red glass would make him look provocative.* "It appears the wolf and the dragon are ready to war, let us hope the others are as ready as us."* He said with a smile, holding his helm aloft. The helm would provide him with the best protection possible. It covered his entire face, and would hopefully strike some fear into his opponents hearts.

*"If you are talking about your armor, it is a magnificent piece of craftsmanship, you truly look terrifying to our enemies, of that I am sure. However if you are talking about the situation then I believe we have a great honour placed on our Qualm. To hunt down the hive and destroy it is no easy feat. I am confident we will succeed, we have established members of the casts, and hopefully my blade will sate its bloodlust soon."* He said all this with a smile. He was eager, he would admit that but he knew not to get over confident. That could prove to be their downfall, and Robb would be damned if he let that happen. Soon they were joined by both Belak and Aalrik. *"Now should we wait for the others or head down to the landing pad?"*


----------



## apidude

Robb said, "Now should we wait for the others or head down to the landing pad?"

Aalrik thought about that. Although he felt like a racer at the mark, he wanted to hear from their Tashiri Aria.

"Let's wait, I'd like to hear from our own Air Walkers to see if they know anything. Besides, I need another cup of Caffe. And still, we should engage with this battle as a complete unit....together."


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam-Human-Windwalker*

Adam woke to the sound of Nesrin calling his name. He blinked several times, panting heavily as he sat upright. He had been dreaming. Something important, something to do with ****, but now it was gone. He couldn`t place any detail beyond flying alongside his hawk fury, it was... just beyond his memory. She shook his head as he moved to the tub and gave himself a quick wash.

_Damnit!_ He thought to himself. _Worst timing in the world Nesrin._

He shrugged and shook himself awake. It was time for their first mission it seemed, and it seemed only fitting that he meet the occasion with the enthusiasm it deserved. He tore off his pajama clothes and tossed them into the hamper at the end of his bed. Opening his wardrobe, he smiled as he withdrew his leather armour and put it on, paying careful attention to securing the straps. Others may have preferred heavier armour, but this suit of light armour had sen him through many missions. It was light enough to allow him to make full use of his agility without restraint, while still offering sufficient protection from the occasional glancing hit from a lucky blow. Satisfied it was as it should be, he slipped the tashiri uniform on over top.

He then drew his blue steel Scimitar, performing a quick flurry to satisfy his own whim, before sheathing it at his waist. Now for the fun part. 

He reached into his mind, calling for the presence that always lingered, watched, and awaited his call. The Fury Spirit that had been his guide and protector since learning the ways of the tashiri. 

_'****...'_ He called, his pendant glowing around his neck and an ethereal whirlwind surrounding him. _'Come forth!'_

In response, the magical energy swirled and focussed before him, momentarily solidifying before changing its shape. A blue eye opened, followed by another, then wings, a tail, a pair of razor sharp talons and finally a beak which let out a piercing shriek as the hawk finally became manifest and hovered before Adam. He held out a hand and allowed **** to rest on his forearm. With his other hand he ran his fingers through the plumage along her back. Their eyes met, and inwardly they both smiled. Destiny was waiting for them. 

* * *​
Some of the others were already at the meeting point when Adam arrived back at the hall, with **** perched on his shoulder. He wondered why they had not continued to the landing, when the elf Aalrik turned to Adam and posed a question. 

Unfortunately Alrik, I was not there.' Adam replied. 'Though I am a windwalker, flight is not among my talents so I wasn`t able to give the assistance they needed. No, my test was little more than destroying a thief cartel in the slums. However, if they`ve assigned a qualm with multiple talents like ours, then I don`t think we will have any problems. We`re going underground eventually aren`t we? Think of what we will be able to do...' Adam`s face took on a sinister aspect. For some reason, he was now looking forward to the fight ahead...


----------



## Jackinator

Isira woke, hearing a purposeful tread in the hallway, a moment later there was a heavy knock at the door and Nesrin yelled for the members of the Qalm to rise and meet him for breakfast. She was up and dressed in another few moments and out and in the great hall in another. The others were sat soon and Nesrin spoke.

"Good morning younglings," he begins, "as I told you last night I received orders for our first mission. As some of you already know, a large swarm of Vicery assailed the Main Walls last night. By the efforts of several different Qalms, as well as some of you, the swarm was repelled and destroyed to the last. More often than not when a swarm attack, the location of the hive that spawned it remains unknown. Most of the Vicery race lives deep in the barren deserts that surround the country of Namanole and as such it is rare for someone to witness a swarm take flight. Such was not the case this time. An arial merchant caravan happened to be passing from Borkan to Namanole when the lead fliers, Tashiri Warriors of course, witnessed the Swarm rise out of the desert and head this way. That was how we got advance notice that the Vicery were on their way here." Nesrin paused for a moment and took a long draught of the tea that sat in front of him. Closing his eyes in obvious contentment at the taste for a second he continued," Fortunately for us, the Tashiri Aria that were assigned to the caravan left markers where the entrance to the hive was, and we have been tasked, along with two other Qalms, to assault the hive, and destroy what we can. It has been decades since we have had an opportunity to take the fight to the Vicery, and the Radan does not want to pass up our moment of advantage. We will assault quickly and hopefully destroy that particular nest in the process."

Isira blinked, decades, that itself spoke volumes of how rare this occurrence was, but for all that it seemed too convenient. She barely paid attention to the rest of his words, pondering instead what this could mean. She returned to her room, quickly packing any essentials she would need. Two knives were slipped into her boots while she quickly strapped on a leather belt with a rapier hung from it in a worn, but servicable sheath. She slipped out of the room, making her way down to the landing, where the others had gathered...


----------



## Angel of Blood

Sol awoke easily from a restless and dreamless sleep to the sound of Nesrin hammering at his door. Curiously he knew it was Nesrin even before he started to yell through the door, something he assumed was an effect of the bonding. He wondered just how far the connection went, if it would wax or wane at different times. He made a mental note to ask Nesrin more about it later.

Sitting up in his bed he glanced over to the fireplace, only the embers still burning within its confines. With a flick of his hand a fire roared back into life and licked hungrily at the walls surrounding it. Sol had no need for the fire, he was able to regulate his body temperature with his powers in almost any environment. But he had a fascination with fire ever since discovering he could manipulate it and control it. Smoothly he summoned a ball of fire into the palm of his hand and silently watched the tongues flicking out harmlessly against his skin, not feeling any pain in the slightest. 

He dismissed the conjured fireball with another thought and made his way over to his armoire. He donned his loose fitting pants and sleeveless tunic, keeping his bare tattooed arms exposed. He tied his red sash reverently around his waist along with the small gilded box Alenko had given to him, feeling the burning coals inside. Lastly he put on his vambraces and gloves. He had no other armour or weapons, his fighting style didn’t require them and if anything would be hindered by them. Others might believe to their folly that Sol would be the unthreatening compared to the more heavily armed and armoured Tashiri, but if they did he would soon make them realise their error.

Sol made his way into the dining hall he saw Nesrin and some of the others eating their breakfast. He picked up a few slices of bread and toasted them with his abilities. As he did Nesrin stood and announced what their mission would be. Sol was elated to be taking the fight to the enemy, the coal box at his waist glowing at the heat radiating from it as Sol thought of the task. As Nesrin looked in his direction he could see that their Hetat looked just as excited as Sol was to go on the offensive. Nesrin then took his leave, telling them to meet him in one hour.

Sol went into the hallway and saw others of the Qalm already gathered outside. Zacarish and Robb were wearing heavily ornate armour with elaborate helms. Sol nodded to the others as he approached. As he did he heard Adam say to Aalrik about what they could achieve with a dark look on his face. He turned to Adam with raised eyebrows

“Well now, that doesn’t sound like a peaceful solution to me, your learning fast it would seem.”

He then looked to Zacarish and Robbs attire and grudgingly said

“Impressive” he said, indicating their helmets “though a little ostentatious don’t you think?”


----------



## Midge913

All: You all make your way to Landing 9, where you find a flurry of activity. Around 20 Tashiri are already present, checking equipment and preparing for departure. You see what must be Tashiri Aria strapping themselves into the harnesses of the wind carriage and double checking that all the fastenings and mechanics of their charges are functioning properly. Next to one of these Carriages you find Nesrin. If you thought he size and appearance were imposing before, the man looks absolutely terrifying adorned for war. He wears an odd set of armor that appears to be close fit, very narrow bands of metal that fit him like a second skin, large spiked metal vambraces, and to his back is strapped a massive double bladed battle axe. He also carries a set of short swords at his waist, a strange collapsing crossbow in a holster on his thigh, and the dagger you saw him with earlier strapped to his lower left leg. Looking at him you think that he could take the nest himself if he really wanted to.

Despite is fearsome appearance he greets you all with a smile. "Wonderful, lets get a move on shall we. Djinn, Aalrik, Sven, Belak, Robb, Adam, and Solomon grab a seat in the carriage. The rest of you with me." Wind walkers you for the briefest of moments feel the build up of wind furries around him, before with a blast of wind Nesrin takes to the sky.

Shortly there after the wind carriages, as well around another dozen Tashiri Aria, are skyborne and begin speeding directly to the south west. 

Zacarish (Santaire), Sol (Angel of Blood), Isira (Jackinator): As you speed over the landscape in Nesrin's wake you are amazed by his flight abilities. He seems to be everywhere at once keeping an eye on things, obviously restless and eager to get into action. You fly for about 2 hours with relative ease and see the border of the Great Desert stretching across the horizon. As you pass into the desert warning cries begin to filter along the ranks of the other fliers, and Nesrin calls back to you that a swarm of Vicery are inbound. YOu see the cloud ahead and you see some of the front rank Tashiri engaging the insects in combat. Nesrin bellows over the din to set the carriages down and force the fight to the ground, before turning and making an odd twisting motion with his hands. As he brings he palms toghether 8 tendrils of living flame streak forward entrapping as many Vicery, and you can hear the popping as the beasts carapace buckles under the heat. You can each take 2 Vicery at range if you have the capability. 

Djinn (djinn24), Aalrik (Apidude), Sven (Therizza), Belak (the Forgotten), Robb (Lord Ramo), Adam (Serpion 5), Solomon (Bane_of_Kings): For about 2 hours the journey is peaceful, but as you pass over the border of the Great Desert those of you in the carriage hear warning calls begin to pass between the Tashiri Aria outside. You look out side and you see that the Tashiri Aria are engaging a humongous swarm of Vicery and that Nesrin and the other Hetat are ordering the carriages to the ground to even the playing field for the Tashiri. The Carriages streak toward the ground, but if any of you have ranged attacks you can each take 2 Vicery at range.


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam-Human-Windwalker*

Adam could feel the sheer power of the furies swirling through the air as Nesrin led a small group of the other Tashiri into the sky, leaving the rest of the group to follow in the sky carriage. 

'I confess, it`s a little embarrassing to be a windwalker who can`t fly.' Adam said to them. 'I kind of wish I`d tried harder to learn that now.' He shrugged and followed the others into the carriage. 'Is anyone else just a little bit nervous?' He asked with a mischievous grin that even **** recoiled from. 

* * *​
It was a relatively easy ride to the target, and on the final approach Adam could sense the furies beginning to react to a hostile presence with a matched aggression. He looked out of the carriage over the land below. The Tashiri Aria had begun to sound alerts, and within moments the enemy was in sight. 

'****, GO!' Adam put forth his hand and with a blast of raw wind energy sent her speeding forth. The vicery were in sight now, and as **** swept in for the attack, Adam focused on his own abilities and sent forth a blast of wind energy. he hit one of his targets with ease and grazed another, catching it off balance and throwing it to the ground. He sent out a few quick gusts, unfocussed simply to throw the enemy off balance.

'Get them before they recover!' He shouted.

The others had begun to attack as well as the carriage began to surge towards the ground. With the range now closed, his ability was not diluted by distance and he crushed to foul creature into the ground. He turned his bond with **** into a direct link, and saw her final swoop as she cleft the eyes from one of the creatures and left its head a bloody ruin...


----------



## apidude

*Aalrik-Wood Elf-Wood Walker*

Aalrik shrugged his quiver into a more comfortable posistion across his back and his hands absently checked the fastenings of his armor and weapons as he and the rest of his Qalm moved to Landing 9. All was set and ready. He donned his helmet and settled it into place fastening its strap under his chin.

Nesrin was waiting for them next to the wind carraige. He looked lie a walking version of one of the Dwarves self propelled armored bolt thowers all metal bands and spikes and weapons. 

"Even so, " thought Aalrik, "the man moves like a dancer, a true sword master. He just seems to flow from one place to the next, like quicksilver. With all that metal, he still doesn't make a sound as he moves."

At his direction, Aalrik and the other non-flyers of the Qalm entered the carraige and had just settled on the benches that lined the inside of the box when it lurched and then rose into the air, swaying a little as the Tashiri Aria adjusted their flight to even the load among them, then accelerating. In just a few minutes, the ground was several thousand feet below and speeding by beneath them. Aalrik slid one of the glass windows open a few inches and the breeze buffetted the inside of the carraige and began to throb as the pressure inside began to fluctuate wildly. One of the other members slid open the glass window behind him on the opposite side of the carraige and the throb vanished and a flow of fresh air moved through the carraige, cooling its interior. 

Aalrik grinned his thanks.

For the next several hours the trip settled into a monotonous and dull transvers of the land beneath. Aalrik watched as the ground below changed from populated farmland and its squares of multicolored crops making a patchwork quilt of the land below to fertile wilderness of plains then woods then gradually begin to shift back to plains and then toward the dry parched Great Desert. 

They had been flying over the sands below, having left the last of the scrub brush and stones of the desert's border several minutes earlier, when the carraige lurched and begin to drop as cries began to pass among the Tashiri Aria. Order were shouted and the carriage dropped like a stone. Aalrik grabbed one ofthe handles running along the roof the length of the carraige to keep from falling as the carriage's descent smooted and then stopped on solid ground.

Aalrik had his bow in hand from the moment the carraige began its descent. He snapped its string into place and exited the carraige behind several of the others, reaching for his arrows.

As he scanned the sky above he nocked a wicked barbed cross headed armor piercing arrow to the string. The Tashiri Aria were in full battle with a large swarm of Vicery, but a few of the insect creatures were dropping to deal with the Tashiri on the ground. The Tashiri Aria in the air were still outnumbered by 4 to 1. 

Aalrik leaned into the bow and pulled the it to its maximum. The range to the embattled Tashiri Aria was great, he reached deep in and the furies of the wood responded. The world faded and there existed only Aalrik, the bow, the arrow and the Vicroy who was attacking Sol, both of its bladed hands swirling in blows to Aalrik's Qulm mate. He released and the arrow blurred as it sped and impacted from the rear of the Vicroy's head, the barbed point exiting the head between its eyes. It dropped like lead.

Another arrow was nocked and Aalrik had sighted his next target. Nesrin and Zacarish and Isira were surrounded by the creatures. 

Again the furies responded, and again an arrow sped upward, invisible to sight due to its speed and another of the Vicroy dropped to the ground, a hole in its body as the arrow passed completely through its body and into another Vicroy who dropped out of the fight and struggled away.

Then, there was no more time for arrows. 

The small unit of Vicroy was flaring their wings and it was going to be close in work. Aalrik leaned his bow against the carraige within easy reach, put his back to the carraige and drew his weapons. A quick thought to his armour and he felt it stiffen and harden. He grinned.

"It is about time! I've been waiting for this for a LONG time. Mother! Father! Your deaths are beginning to be repaid today!" he thought.

Then three of the Vicroy were before him and, with a shout of exultation, the Dance began.....


----------



## Lord Ramo

The group, soon swelled and decided to move to the landing pad. Robb moved fairly quickly, he was eager but he knew his duty, he would make no mistakes, he would not put any of his fellows at risk from his eagerness. The group soon arrived at the landing pad to see a rather impressive looking Nesrin, combat gear on and looking fearsome was waiting for them. Robb pulled on his helm, the wolf covering his entire face as he and the other Tashiri that were not air, and could not fly were told to get into a carriage that would be carried by Air Tashiri.

Robb took a seat by a window in the carriage, he knew it would be a while before they reached their destination and it would get hot in the carriage. Therefore he best be next to the window to cool. Soon the group was in the air, Robb admiring the way the Wind Walkers utilized their powers as they dipped and soared through the air. Whoever was helping with the carriage was doing an amazing job as well, Robb could have been seated back in the Tashiri halls for all he knew. He sat quietly, reflecting on his training as they flew over the landscape.

For two hours the journey was peaceful, Robb taking the time to look out on the scenery below him and marvel at the view. Wind Walkers were lucky, purely for the views that they got on their journeys. However Robb knew that he was a metal walker, and he couldn't wait to try out his sword skills on the foes of the Tashiri. Soon they would be in battle, soon his blade would sate its thirst. Soon they reached the great desert. Robb could hear a whine spread through the carriage and could hear the cries of Tashiri as they warned one another about a swarm coming their way.

Robb looked out of the window to see a huge swarm engaging the flying Tashiri, and also noticed that Nesrin and the other Hetats were ordering the carriages down to the ground. "Here we go then." He mumbled to himself as the carriages lurched towards the ground. Robb opened his pouch and drew shards of metal out of it with his hand. With a thought he threw the shards at the nearest member of the swarm, the little sharpened metal stakes penetrating it in dozens of places as Robb repeatedly drew them in and threw them at its face. Soon it was dead, its face an unrecognizable mess.


----------



## Angel of Blood

Sol made his way to the landing area with the others, emerging onto it to find it already bustling with activity. Carriages were being made ready, with Tashiri Aria meticulously checking them as well as themselves. No single member of the order present looked alike; all of them equipped with a whole manner of weapons and armour, the variation was incredible. Sol looked almost out of place in his simple attire. 

They moved over to the enormous form of Nesrin, now clad for war. If he was intimidating before, then now armed and armoured as he was, he looked like a true avatar of destruction. Sol grinned at the others.

“So I take it when we get to the hive we simply follow the trail of devastation Nesrin leaves in his wake? Well our wake, unless any of you actually think you can keep up with us”

Nesrin instructed those who couldn’t fly to board the carriages. Sol grinned once again in their direction.

“You all have a nice ride in there now; let those of us who can fly show you how it’s done”

And with that he gathered power from the air furies around him and propelled himself into the skies along with the others who shared his ability, the carriage taking off shortly behind them. For all Sols arrogant comments, he had to concentrate hard to keep his flight steady and smooth, not really taking in his surroundings or the landscape below them. Nesrin by comparison seemed to effortlessly glide through the air, as if it came as naturally to him as walking. Sol longed for when he would be so totally in control, but he was confident as ever that he would become a master in time.

After a couple of hours they passed into the desert. As Sol looked ahead towards the horizon he could see a dark cloud approaching. He let a small sigh out, flying took enough concentration in ideal conditions, but when flying through the rain it took even more. But as they neared the cloud he realized it wasn’t a rain cloud at all. It was the Vicery swarm, rushing out to meet them and defend their hive. The warning shouts of the lead Aria filtered back through the group and Nesrin ordered the carriages to the ground. Sol however accelerated towards the swarm along with the others and Nesrin himself. 

The lead Tashiri had already engaged the swarm and were locked in battle. Nesrin sent long coruscating tendrils of flames towards the swarms, killing eight Vicery in the blink of an eye. Upon seeing Nesrins example, Sol stopped in mid air and began summoning a torrent of power, the box at his waist literally glowing as he drew fire from it to his hands. With a shout he let the flames loose at the swarm detonating them into an inferno as it reached the swarm, killing two Vicery outright and wounding or stunning others. He made to create another devastating blast, but as he did one of the wounded Vicery sped towards him. He smirked at the incoming opponent and sped towards it aswell

“So that’s how you want this to play out?”

They crashed in mid air too fast for either of them to do anything but grapple. They tumbled through the air, rapidly losing altitude as they tried to land blows on each other. Sol saw the ground getting ever close as they hurtled down. With a growl of frustration he broke off in time to arrest his descent. He landed neatly on the ground and looked up to see the Vicery do the same. He laughed at the Vicery

“I fight better down here anyway!”


----------



## Midge913

All: All around you battle wages and the air is thick with the sounds of steel ringing on steel, the chittering speech and thrumming wings of the Vicery, and the calls and shouts of the Tashiri. All of the air carriage manage to safely reach the ground and the battle turns marginally in the Tashiri's favor as Earth, Fire, Wood, and Metal walkers bring their powers to bear. However the sheer number of Vicery is almost overwhelming. For every beast that falls three seem to replace it and you notice that the Tashiri's superior firepower and ability is all that keeps them from being overwhelmed by the sheer mass of insectoid bodies. All around you Tashiri warriors bring all of their powers to bear, furies in evershape imaginable made from air, water, fire, earth, wood and metal tear into the horde of Vicery with vicious determination. 

Adam (Serpion5): As the carriage touches down you disembark as quickly as possible. As you step from the carriage there is a loud thud to your left as the Vicery the **** ravaged strikes the ground with enough force to embed the creature several inches into the sand. As you look up you find that the Carriage has been surrounded by Vicery warriors, each wielding dual wickedly curved sabres. Darting in and out of combat you take advantage of your natural and fury enhanced speed (and other abilities) managing to kill 3 vicery and wound another two. This natural skill and speed of Vicery force you to push your abilities, but this all out assault is not your particular forte, perferring to rely on speed and stealth, you take several small wounds, including a rather substantial cut above your right eyebrow, the blood from which begins to cloud your vision as you deal with the last of your foes. (this includes any contributions **** may make)

Aalrik (Apidude): The three Vicery rush you with a speed and skill that you were not expecting, believing that they would be slower and less nimble on the ground. It is all you can do to keep the three of them at bay in close quarters combat as they are all proficient in the use of the dual sabres that they wield. You take a single, fairly vicious cut to your right shoulder, and you can tell that your skills in close combat, though proficient, will not see you through this battle. You are able to kill a single Vicery, and either disable or wound the other two. With the one dead, and the other two slowed, you see that the way to the air carriage is clear and that the roof of the carriage would make a great place to support your brethren with ranged fire. Do you choose to sheathe your blades and take up your bow once again from the better vantage point? Your accuracy with the bow would pose no danger of friendly fire even in the chaotic swirl of melee. Alighting the carriage you are able to put down 3 more Vicery by use of your bow. 

Robb (Lord Ramo): As disembark from the air carriage you find that your party has been surrounded on all sides by Vicery warriors. As the insect like creatures continue to land near you on the ground you fear that your party will soon be surrounded and overwhelmed. Drawing your sword you wade into the oncoming tide of enemies slicing through them as the prow of a boat cuts through the waves, destroying weapons and rending foes with your Metal Walking abilities. You are able to kill 6 creatures and wound 2 more. Though you are skilled in the arts of the blade you find the Vicery to be able opponents. Their many limbed bodies lithe and imbued with a natural quickness that requires you to push your abilities to the outmost to manage so many opponents without being overwhelmed. Even with your skills you take several small wounds that, while painful, do not hinder you due to your Fury assisted resilience. 

Sol (Angel of Blood): The Vicery who fell with you rights itself and is soon joined by 5 others. As you and the insects begin to battle you feel nevrvous about using any highly explosive Fire abilities as your compatriots are fighting along side you in such close quarters. However, using small controlled blasts of flame, and lightning quick strikes with your fury assisted speed you are able to kill 3 and wound two of your opponents. The speed at which your fists strike are provides more than enough force to crack the tough carapace that protects most of the Vicery's bodies. You do not escape the fight unscathed however and take several wounds to your arms and legs, mostly from attempting to block and parry the sabres which the Vicery wield. The vicery are able opponents and even your speed and skill cannot prevent all the blows that seem to be coming at you from all sides. 

Zacarish (Santaire): Finding it difficult to remain aloft and bring your swordsmanship fully to bear you land amongst the rest of your Qalm. Seeing foes pressing in on all sides you barrell into the wall of Vicery surrounding you, near where Aalrik fights. Knowing that his abilities would be better suited to providing support with his bow, you wade in dealing death with Sword and blade, your fury enhanced speed and skill making quick work of Vicery opponents, giving Aalrik the opportunity to reach his bow and find position on top of the carriage should he choose to. Like the other members of your group however is seems as though the sheer numbers of enemies will eventually overwhelm you on your front should something not change. Fighting like a mad beast you are able to kill 6 vicery and wound 2 others, but during this process you take several wounds, the most severe being a long and deep laceration across the back of your right thigh, just above the armor. This wound, dealt to you by the last Vicery that you killed, does cause you some issues putting full weight onto the leg. 

Belak (The Forgotten): Disembarking from air carriage you are immediately set upon by several Vicery that drop out of the sky behind, in front, and literally ontop of you. It appears that one Vicery was wounded in mid-air by a Tashiri Aria lost control of its flight and plummeting to the ground it slammed into your back and the back of your legs, dropping you to the ground. You manage to quickly regain your footing to find that its impact with you snapped its neck, and although this one is dead, several of its fellows are very much alive. The Vicery rush you and it takes all of your strength and skill with a blade to fight them off long enough to regain your footing and bring the fight back to them. You are able to kill 6 and wound 2 more, taking several wounds that don't hinder you due to your fury assisted resilience. 

Isira (Jackinator): Keeping to the skies with the other Tashiri Aria you use your Fury abilities to their full extent. Blasting Vicery out of the air, solidifing the air around them to watch them plummet to the ground with bone breaking force, and striking out with fury enhanced speed with dagger and rapier. You see that many of the Vicery are landing and taking the fight to the Tashiri on the ground, but there is still a large number of them in the air that need to be dealt with by Tashiri fliers before you can go assist your Qalm. Taxing your abilites to max you are able to kill 5 Vicery and wound 1 other. In between aerial clashes with the Vicery you see Nesrin rocketing around the combat, dealing death to all the creatures that oppose him. You have but a moment to reflect on his abilities as you see him at one time or another wield forces from all 6 fury disciplines and you are glad to have him on your side. 

Djinn (djinn24): Exiting the air carriage you are immediately beset by Vicery warriors you press their initial advantage as you and your Qalm disembark. You like Sol, or reluctant to use any of your most explosive fire born abilites at of fear that you should harm other Tashiri that are fighting in such close quarters, but using controlled bursts of flame and heat, as well as scimitar and dagger, you make a good showing of yourself by killing 5 Vicery and wounding 3 others. During the fight however you take a severe blow to your left bicep from the back edge of one of the Vicery's sabres and you clearly hear the breaking of bone as your humerous breaks just above the elbow. This obviously causes severe pain and leaves your left arm hanging useless at your side. 

Sven (Therizza): Disembarking from the carriage you and your compatriots are immediately assailed by more Vicery than you can count. It seems that they are pressing in on all sides. However where the carapace the protects the Vicery's bodies is adequate at turning away blade and arrow, it proves to be no match for Avalanche and our fury assisted strength. Every blow that you land crushes arms, legs, and thorax. taxing your abilites to the max you are able to kill 8 vicery, leaving to others severly wounded. You, like the others take several small to moderate wounds, and you think that the last two fingers on your left hand may be broken. 

All: Even with your best efforts the Vicery seem to be on the brink of overwhelming you and you have no idea how the other Qalms are faring due to the press of bodies. You are all wounded, pushing your abilities to max, and beginning to fatigue.
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
(In Character):
Solomon quickly exited the air carriage glad to be free of its confines at last. He heard the shouts and sounds of battle as he did so and found that he and his companions were surrounded on all sides by masses of the insect like warriors. Side stepping one that tried to stab him in the side he grabbed onto its arm and sent his furies coursing through the things body immobilizing it with a thought and a touch. He quickly dispatched the impotent beast by piercing it up through the underside of its chin with one of his hidden blades. 

Kneeling quickly he placed his hand palm down on the ground and sent his furies out in search of water, drawing it up out of the ground in front of three advancing Vicery who were so intent on reaching him that they were caught unawares and plowed headlong into the deep quagmire that had sprung up before them. Keeping his concentration on the furies in the pool, Solomon took control of them, causing living tendrils of water to sneak inbetween joints in the beasts natural armor and snake into nostrils and breathing ports. In the space of a couple of seconds the Vicery had been caught and drowned. 

"Drowned in the desert," Solomon thought, " now that is a novel idea." 

Unslinging his bow from his back he thought to provide covering fire for the rest of his Qalm when he was hit in the back of the legs by something. Searing pain flared up through his left calf all the way up through his lower buttock and he fell to the ground, clutching is leg in pain. He grunted as the air was stolen from his chest by another Vicery that landed on him wicked sabres streaking down to finish him off. In a haze of pain he was able to deflect the blow with one of his daggers, while grabbing the things leg he immobilized it with a muddled thought. It fell backwards, tipped off balance by Solomon's attempt to rise, into the quagmaire that was quickly evaporating in the desert heat.

Finding that he was unable to stand, he scooted backwards, away from his dead foes, toward the air carriage, each movement sending fresh waves of agony up his injured leg. He managed to prop himself up against the rear of the carriage and for a quick moment he concentrated on the muscles and flesh of his injury, willing the water furies in his cells to knit themselves back together. Slowly the injury closed to the point that he wasn't losing anymore blood and he opened his eyes to see that the Vicery continued to press in on his group. Testing the leg, he found that he was still unable to stand on it without more intensive healing, grabbed his short bow and nocked and arrow. Taking aim at an approaching foe he thought that if this was to be the his last stand he would take as many of the beasts with him as he could and let the arrow loose.


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam*

Adam was the first to leave the carriage, leaping from the door several meters above the ground and landing lightly. He drew his scimitar as his feet contacted the ground. A heavy thud off to the side barely warranted any concern, so connected as he was with **** that he fully anticipated the Vicery`s violent demise. He shot a glance back at the carriage, seeing it surrounded by the insectoid creatures as they swarmed to destroy the invaders. He was aware of his fellow tashiri nearby but was hard pressed to spot them, quickly deciding that each would have to fend for themselves for the time being. 

He summoned his power as quickly as he could, darting aside just in time to avoid a decapitating strike. The vicery who assailed him carried two wickedly serrated swords, like larger, crueler versions of his own. All the enemy were similarly armed, and there were many of them to face. Adam retaliated immediately, his speed and resilience enhanced by a combined use of the quickening technique as well as controlling the wind to form a small vortex of wind around himself. Though it was taxing and all but severed his contact with ****, he was under no illusions that anything less would result in death. He delivered three quick slices to his foe before it could react. It fell, bleeding heavily from its neck and beneath its arms. Adam could not even begin to describe the feeling he had, the rush of being in a true battle! It was so much more exhilarating and terrifying than the skirmish raids he had been doing all these years of training. 

And yet, he was not enjoying it. It ill suited his style. Three more vicery rushed him at once, and were it not for his wind borne protection and severely strained reflexes he would have died on the spot. As it were, he managed to drive his blade through the neck of one beast before impaling the second, but the third took of advantage of the moment needed to withdraw his blade and landed a heavy strike upon his leg. 

He retaliated by instinct more than anything, dropping his shield and throwing the attacker back with a gust of wind. The freeing of his mind allowed the connection with **** to return and he instantly became aware of another vicery approaching rapidly from behind. He ducked and rolled to the side, a shooting pain in his thigh almost incapacitating him before bringing his blade up to hamstring the creature that had tried to ambush him. It fell with a shriek and lashed out violently. Adam was too close to avoid the swing completely, resulting in a shallow cut just above his right eye. He could feel blood beginning to trickle down his face as he exchanged blows with the creature. 

A short distance away, **** had begun to harass the one he had blasted back before, but her obvious concern for his safety was proving to be a severe detriment to her offense. He wanted to tell her not to hold back, but his mind was overwhelmed by the ferocity of his wounded adversary and the frustration of his own blood clouding his sight.

How the hell was he going to get through this?!


----------



## Santaire

Zacarish realised that he didn’t have a chance while flying. It just wasn’t his skill area. He could see Isira darting around in the sky but he just couldn’t do that. He had trained his metal abilities much more than his air abilities. He let himself down to engage the Vicery attacking the carriage. He landed with a thud and stood up straight. Aalrick was under attack from a swarm of Vicery and Zacarish drew his sword. He then proceeded to carve his way towards the beleaguered Wood Elf. He killed one Vicery and wounded 2 others with ease before smashing out of the surrounding swarm and kicked aside one of the Vicery attacking Aalrick. The Wood Elf had already killed two and wounded another but he had taken a bad wound. Zacarish stood in front of him and his sword was a blur that fended off all attacks, only pausing once so that Zacarish could lunge the blade into another Vicery but it dodged aside. “Get on top of the carriage, it’s the best place to shoot from,” he yelled as he faced off against three Vicery. He knocked aside all their attacks but one, that slashed across the side of his neck. It was the last mistake the Vicery would ever make.

Zacarish paused in shock and the three Vicery lunged at the same time. Zacarish’s eyes, already a daemonic red in colour suddenly darkened although the Vicery could not see this due to Zacarish’s helmet. The Dark Elf was completely still for a second. Zacarish was fighting for control of his anger but then he gave in. The Vicery blades shattered into a thousand pieces, as did the blades of every Vicery within 10 metres of the Dark Elf. The scattered shards of metal rose into the air and began to orbit Zacarish. He screamed in hate and drove all the metal at the Vicery that had struck him. The creature couldn’t even scream as it was flayed alive. Zacarish spun, all his abilities driven into overdrive and lunged, lightning fast at one of the remaining two Vicery facing him. The blade drove straight through the insect’s armoured chest and ripped out of its back.

Zacarish tore the blade out and slashed it into the last Vicery’s neck. It’s head flew off and Zacarish kicked the body. It fell backwards and collapsed to the floor. He spun and his sword slammed into the crossed blades of another Vicery. It had come from further away and thus it’s blades were still in one piece. It knocked Zacarish away and launched into a flurry of blows that the Dark Elf had trouble parrying. Zacarish raised an arm to protect his head and the Vicery’s sword rebounded from the shield of air that had formed there. Zacarish then went on the offensive. He took several cuts from the creature’s counter attacks but they barely slowed him until one blade carved into the meat of his thigh, in between the bottom of his scale armour and the top of his greave. He slashed his sword into its neck and it collapsed. Zacarish almost fell too for his leg was too badly damaged to take his weight properly. He raised his sword into a guard position for the Vicery were closing in…


----------



## Jackinator

*Isira*

A blade flashed past her face, so close her breath would have clouded the gleaming metal. She flicked the rapier out, catching the beast in the throat with a vicious lunge. She pulled it out in a heart beat, raising it to deflect a blow from another of the Vicery that came hurtling towards her before focusing her attention and sending out a wave of force that sent it tumbling backwards in the air. Before she could attack there was a blur and the creature began to fall to earth, a trail of fire revealing the means of it's demise. Nesrin rocketed past, deflecting half a dozen Vicery with a wave of his hand, sending them tumbling as weapons struggled to escape from their claws. Another dived towards her and she pushed herself out of the way, feeling the power of the air around her move her to a safe location. She slashed at it's wing as it went past, and it began to corkscrew as it fluttered to earth. But she had no time to finish it off. Already another two were closing on her from both sides. She whirled, her rapier ripping through the throat of one before the other caught it on a sword. She pushed herself up and around, her outstretched leg catching the alien in the chest before pushing herself forwards, a dagger flicking out in her left hand to jab swiftly into it's eye.

She felt herself sliding further into the fight, cutting and whirling this way and then, deflecting blows and retaliating with strikes of her own. She disarmed a Vicery of it’s remaining sword with a flick of her own weapons, then hardened the air around the sword, slowing it’s fall before blasting the insect-like warrior down to be impaled on it’s curved blade. But the complicated manoeuvre had distracted her and another one was on her in a second, driving her back with the sheer force and speed of it’s blows before a sudden lack of air around it’s head caused it to thrash pathetically as she drove her blade into it’s stomach.

It became a blur, she remembered only the death of another Vicery before a bigger specimen than those she had seen crashed into her. She stabbed out, a great tear formed in it's wing and they began to plummet to earth. It had a long, viciously serrated dagger hovering before her eye, it took both hands and all her strength to hold the weapon steady. Her dagger and rapier had already fallen from her grasp and she screamed in rage and fear as the two of them plummeted from the sky, heading ever closer to the peace promised by the rocks far below...


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## The Forgotten

Belak leapt out of the carriage, sword drawn. He heard several thuds behind him and saw 2 Vicery coming out of the sky in front of him and then a huge weight slammed into his back, knocking him off his feet. The Vicery rolled off him and he saw that it was dead, it's neck snapped by the impact. Belak got to his feet just in time to block an incoming sword. He knocked the blade aside and ripped his black bladed sword through the beast's thorax, splitting it into two pieces. He ducked a lunge from behind and spun, bringing his blade round. It carved through the Vicery's legs and it fell before he brought the blade up and down, slashing it down into the Vicery's chest. Blood leaked from the wound and Belak raised his sword for the final blow but then his blade was knocked out of his hands.

He formed his arms into steel blades and blocked the next blow before driving his arms into it's chest. He ripped them free and spun, slashing them into the abdomen of another Vicery. Another advanced on him, spinning it's blades. He grinned and focussed, the blades rising from his clothing and flying forwards to impale the Vicery. Another one leapt from behind him and he spun, but not before it's blades could cut into his skin. He used the furies in his armour to help him ignore the pain and continued fighting. Lunging his arms through the Vicery's thorax and lifting it into the sky. It struggled but weakly for it's lifeblood was rapidly draining away. He slammed it down into the ground and reformed his arms to their normal state, leaving the Vicery to bleed to death. He drew his dagger and leapt forwards, spearing a Vicery through the head with his blade. He then drew his other dagger and leapt into combat with 2 Vicery, fending off their blows and returning them with lightning speed.

He slashed his blade into the leg of one of them and at the same time stabbed his other dagger through the chest of the other Vicery. He kicked the one with the chest wound off his blade and plunged the dagger into the other Vicery's head. He then turned only to be barreled to the floor by the wounded Vicery. It tried to force one of it's rapier's into his head but he kept the blade away, straining with all his strength. At the same time he focussed all the attention he could spare on the furies within his body. Very gradually he felt the metal spread around his body as the furies built a shield of metal to protect his skin. It began to spread from the center of his back. The metal began to spread to cover his torso, his legs and his arms and was just beginning to creep up his neck but he wasn't sure if it would happen in time so he strained against the Vicery, praying that the metal would cover his face in time. However he was tiring and the Vicery was pressing ever further down. He needed another 3 minutes for the metal to cover his entire body but he though that he may not have that time and so he grasped one of his daggers with one hand and at the same time kicked upwards, rolling to one side. It was an idea fraught with risk because if he was a milisecond slow then the Vicery would impale him. He wasn't and the Vicery's rapier stabbed down into the ground where it had just been. He climbed to his feet and watched the Vicery as it stood. "Let's dance," he snarled and leapt forward. He could feel the metal creeping up his back and onto his neck. He needed one more minute and if he survived that long then nothing the Vicery wielded would be able to pierce the shield of metal surrounding him...


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## Djinn24

Jumping from the air coach with schimitar and dagger in hand the fighting starts before my feet touch thr ground, blocking Vicery sword aimed at taking off my head. I push my will and wrap my weapons in flames as well as reaching out and heating the weapons of as many of the bastard bugs skittering around me. I pierced the hard carapace of the original Vicery that tried to take my head, pulsing my power to immolate it from the inside out. I shake the smoldering corpse from my sword and flick the blade at a group in the distance, throwing a grapefruit sized ball of flame, striking and killing one, and the other three burn as the flaming jelly splatters onto them.

I see a Vicery getting close to someone from my Qalm and throw my flaming dagger into its back, pushing my will to keep the dagger flaming while it is seperate from my hand. It almost looks as the eyes glow for a moment as it falls over dead. Another dagger is in my hard almost as quickly as the first one left. Suddenly my arm is struck by a blade and with a loud snap my arm goes numb and my fingers useless. The clatter sounds as my dagger falls to the ground. Sweeping around I remove the head from the Vicery that struck me. I move back a bit to out of combat and look at my wound. There is a minor cut in the skin but the area where I was struck is already swollen and purple. The arm is broken and pretty much useless. I roughly shoved it inside my tunic to hold it in place and go back out to join my Qalm getting ready to fling another fireball.


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## apidude

*Aalrik - Wood Walker - Wood Elf*

With a low buzz, three Vicery speed up as they approach. Each held two blades that glittered in the sunlight as they drew closer. Time seemed to slow for Aalrik as his affinity for the wood and living things sped up his perceptions. He spun as they approached, Aor slicing the head off of one of the Vicery. As it dropped, its flailing arms slice one of it's dual sabers toward Aalrik's head. He ducked, and lifted his dagger, parrying the blow and deflecting the blade from splitting his head like a melon. Despite his speed the deflected sable sliced across his leather and wooden armor, opening a 4 inch wound near the top of his shoulder blade. 

The pain jarred Aalrik, but as it hit, the other two Vicery launched lightniing slices with both weapons. Blinking the sweat out of his eyes only moments into the fight, Aalrik dodged, parried, stabbed, and spun until his back was once again against the Air Carriage. The two Vicery were spaced in front of him and were dodging in and out, one swinging his saber's, forcing Aalrik onto the defensive, while the other lunged forward with stabbing thrusts low toward the groin and thigh. They were trying to either split his skull or pin him to the carraige. It was all that Aalrik could do to keep their blades from his body and his stiffened hardened armor rocked with impacts as it deflected stray blows. 

Then Zacarish was there, his blade flashing. "Get on top of the carriage, its the best place to shoot from," he yelled s he parried from the Vicery attacking them. He fought like a madman, his blade flashing in the sunlight, parry and thrust and slash. Then he froze for an eyeblink. Aalrik could almost feel the force that was gathering. 

Then the blades of metal held by the Vicery exploded. The pieces, rising like the wind blows leaves in the fall, began to spin ever faster over Zacarish's head, then they sliced into the lone Vicery before him. The Vicery dropped before him as he spun and impaled another. With a snarl he pulled the blade and sliced the head from the Vicery. 

As that one dropped, another flew into the fight, and their blades were invisible due to the speed of their clash. Then two things happened, Zacarish slashed into the neck of the insectoid then staggered and nearly felll, the back of his leg an open wound. One of the Vicery had managed a major wound on his leg, barely missing his hamstring. He struggled to maintain his footing.

As he sliced and thrust with the Vicery before him, Aalrik reached out to the furies of the grasslands and, in an instant the grass surrounding Aalrik grew up and around the legs and arms of the Vicery. He lept from the carraige between them and behind their guard. Aor sliced down the side of one Vicery, Aalrik's arm jarring from cutting through the tough exoskeleten of its arms and he spun with a backhanded dagger thrust and his dagger stabed into the side of the other Vicery below one of its arms. Both dropped and disappeared as the grass enveloped them binding them to the earth, immobilizing them. 

Breathing deeply with exertion, Aalrik quickly scanned the area. His Qalm were stretched to the point of being overwhelmened. The Vicery were faster than they had expected. As he watched, he saw Soloman on the ground with his leg obviously wounded, firing arrows from a seated position with his back to the carriage; Adam was a bloody mess as blood streamed from wounds on his head; Zacarish was limping on a weakened leg, trying to fend off attackers with one leg threatening to buckle beneath him; Belak was transforming in front of his eyes into a moving metal monster but he was besieged by Vicery who were trying to kill him before the transformation was complete; Djinn's arm was stuffed inside his tunic and he was trying to fight his way to cover, forming fireballs and throwing them with his uninjured arm. He couldn't see the rest of the Qalm. Obviously the Tashiri Airia were in the air in the swarm of Vicery that still were above them.

Aalrik roughly shoved his blades in their sheathes and, grabbing his bow, lept to the top of the carraige. Quickly, he sighted in on the Vicery attacking Zacarish and with a quick focusing of the power of the wood in the arrow and bow, sent an arrow through the Vicery that was about to slash through Zacarish's defense. The arrow struck the Vicery between the eyes and the arrow exited the rear of the insect's head and it toppled. Zacarish began to move toward the cover of the Air Carraige, dragging his injured leg behind him.

A Vicery was flying toward Soloman from his blind side, swinging its blades back to decapitate him as it flew over the wounded archer. Another quick focus and Aalrik's barb tipped arrow, pushed by all the power of the fury enhanced wooden bow, caught the Vicery at the base of its neck and passed completly through the length of beast. It fell from the air and crashed into the carriage behind Soloman. Soloman didn't bother looking to see who shot the arrow that saved him. He nocked another arrow and sent it into the air and another Vicery fell away from a Tashiri Airia. 

As soon as he saw that Soloman had room to fight, Aalrik loosed another arrow, lining up one of the Vicery that was facing Adam. It took the Vicery in the side and it dropped, its insect-like claws scrabbling at the thing that wounded it. A blue grey liquid oozed from the wound. 

From his vantage point on top of the carraige, Aalrik called out, "To me, brothers! Come to the carraige and we will provide backup to each other. Form a circle with the carraige at your backs! Adam, Belak, help Soloman and Zacarish if you can! I will cover you!"


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## Lord Ramo

Robb leapt out of the air carriage, noticing that all the other carriages had also made it safely to the ground. He knew he should thank the skilled Air walkers that made it so, as well as engaging the enemy in the air. However, he would have to do that later on, for now he would have to fight his way through the thick of enemies that charged towards the air carriages. The amount of firepower that the Tashiri now had was an awe for Robb to see as he paused to see the Tashiri gain the upper hand. For a moment.

Robb could see how many Vicery warriors there actually were, every time one died three took its place. They were going to wear the Tashiri warriors down eventually, but Robb knew that it would be a close fight. Robb’s attention was drawn upwards, where Air Tashiri and the winged Vicery still duelled, seemingly to dance like leaves caught in an updraft. However more and more Tashiri hit the ground around them, and Robb was sure that they would be surrounded soon, unless something was done about it.

Robb drew Fang from its sheath, kissing the blade before he placed his snarling wolf helm upon his head, his shield with the emblem of the wolf in his weaker hand. He looked heroic in his armour, or at least terrifying to the enemy he hoped as he leapt like quicksilver into the swirling melee around him.
As quick as a flash he met his first Vicery warrior face to face, the Vicery leaping at him, shrieking at him. He twisted to the side, thinking that he would be quicker than the Vicery, though it managed to swerve in its attack, causing a small cut on Robb’s exposed leg. In return, a snarl on his face that seemed to mirror the wolf snarl on his helmet, Robb brought his blade down, cutting through three of its arms with his first attack, before slicing its abdomen open like a knife would but through hot butter.

The Vicery howled as its remaining arms tried to hold its guts in place, before Robb brought his sword through its head. He put a boot on the body as he pulled fang free and turned to face his next two targets, one wielded a rather large and deadly looking axe, whilst the other held two swords.

Robb opened his small pouch at his belt as he leapt forward, one hand on his sword, the other outstretched as he directed the shards of metal from his pouch, heading straight for the two Vicery. The small sharpened shards were aimed at their faces, forcing them to move their hands to protect their eyes from being destroyed. Robb kept his hand outstretched, grabbing hold of the axe. He concentrated for a second before the weapon exploded, its metal warped and twisted and unusable. 

The look on the Vicery’s face, Robb was sure, that it was a look of confusion and was startled by the destroyed weapon. He quickly cut it down, before deflecting a blow from the other Vicery launched an attack on him. In a second he ducked underneath its second blade, landing on his knees as he slid in the sand behind the Vicery. He stood, his blade stabbing backwards as it ripped into the Vicery, and he quickly brought his blade out of its back, turned and cut it down.

He stood, the shards of metal he threw collected into his hand and placed into his pouch before he charged into battle once more. He was charged in return by five Vicery warriors, each armed with close combat weapons as they charged him down. However Robb wasn’t alone, his Fury Terros ripped out of nowhere, leaping and knocking two Vicery down. Terros snarled furiously as it started to maul the two Vicery, injuring them as it ripped limbs off, though the Vicery that were hurt took to the skys.

Robb leapt into combat once more as he slashed down the first Vicery, cutting through it with ease before blocking a sword strike. However he left his arm exposed too long, and the last Vicery, just out of range managed to knick his arm drawing blood. Robb stepped up his attack, his blade weaving in and out quickly, the Vicery only just managing to hold him off. He quickly threw one of his knives into one, killing it outright before stabbing through the chest of the other. He pulled his blade out quickly and beheaded it, before falling back to the carriage, as they were surrounded.


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## Djinn24

Hearing Aalrik call out I begin to fight my way back to the air carriages, hoping to regroup and reform before we are overrun.The pain in my arm begins to become up bareable as I move, sharp stabs shooting up it.


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## Midge913

Adam (serpion5): As you continue fend off the Vicery that threatens to overwhelm you you continue to fall back to the air carriage into the defensive ring that you and your brethen are attempting to form. You are almost overwhelmed when the Vicery levels a flurry of berserker attacks at you, you vision clouded you feel that this may be the end. You are utterly suprised as two arrows, streaking in quick succession, fly just over your right shoulder and imbed themselves in the beasts throat. It falls dead to the ground, and looking over your shoulder you see Aalrik throw you the briefest of glances before he turns his attentions, and his bow back at the enemy. You make it back to the air carriage and after wiping the blood from your eyes you ready yourself for another assault as you see more and more Vicery closing in around the group. 

Isira(Jackinator): The numbers of Vicery in the air begin to dwindle and looking down you see the reason why. It appears that the Vicery have asceeded to Tashiri air superiority, and have taken the fight to your commrades on the ground, attempting to overwhelm and pin them in. Using your Fury enhanced senses you see that Zacarish is cut off from the air carriage that the rest of your group is trying to retreat to, and appears to be severly injured. You notice that the rest of your group is tied up dealing with enemies of their own, and Solomon's and Aalrik's arrows, though deadly accurate, are only thinning the numbers of enemies by a small margin. Landing you deal with the Vicery closing in on Zacarish's rear flank, they are surprised by the inhuman speed of your attack and fall easily, allowing the two of you to make it back to the defensive perimeter that your Qalm is forming. 

Zacarish (Santaire): Fighting four Vicery on all sides you manage to keep yourself from further injury pushing yourself to the limits of your skills with a blade, but due to your injured leg you are unable to make any headway back to the carriage. That is until Isira lands behind you and breaks the stalemate by killing the two to your rear. This allows you to kill two pressing to the front. With Isira's assistance you are able to make it back to the defensive line that the rest of the Qalm is attempting to form. 

Belak (The Forgotten): Just in the nick of time your Adamantium form takes root and now covers your whole body. A millisecond later the vicery blade that snuck past your defenses as you concentrated on the shift would have opened your throat, instead it deflects harmlessly off the impenetrable metal. You see Isira helping Zacarish back over to the air carriage where your Qalm is forming a defensive ring running over you cover their retreat, enemy blades pinging uselessly off your armored form, killing another couple of Vicery in the process.

Djinn (djinn24): Flinging several more fireballs with your uninjured hand, you manage to immolate several more Vicery warriors. you are now able to see your whole Qalm as they gather in a ring around the air carriage, and you feel that it is time to bring the full force of your Fire abilities to bear. You feel that you have the energy and time to use one of your major abilities once before you reach the air carriage and the damage that you are able to inflict is pretty massive. after doing this you reach the air carriage and all but collapse to the ground next to Solomon the pain in your broken arm and the exhaustion from using your powers threatens to send you into unconciousness. 

Aalrik (Apidude): Standing on top of the air carriage you have a good view of the field below. Bring the full weight of your Fury enhanced marksman ship to bear you are able to kill 4 Vicery in as many shots when you notice that Adam is close to being overwhelmed by his Vicery opponent. The injury over his eye is causing blood to obscure his vision and it doesn't appear that he will make it back to the carriage unless you intervene. Even with the focus and ability provided the hitting the Vicery will be difficult because Adam lies directly in the path of any potential shot, but you fear that the Vicery will kill him if you fail to act. 

Robb (Lord Ramo): You are one of the first to make it back to the air carriage and as such the rest of the Qalm begins to form up on your lead. You find yourself back to back with Sven and the Dwarf is reaching out with his powers of earth causing a rent to open in the ground ahead of you swallow several vicery and crush them as the fissure closed again. His fury enhanced strength crushes Vicery Warriors into gelatinous goo with mighty strikes of his warhammer and enemies fall in droves around him. Taking up a position to his right you add your blade to the mix and you two are able to form a rock on which the momentum of the Vicery charge breaks. This gives the rest of your Qalm time to regroup at the carriage. Despite this brief Victory you can tell that there are just too many for your group to handle and that soon it is inevitable that you all should fall. 

All:Sol (Angel of Blood): (OOC: Angel of Blood is moving house so at the moment he will be an npc) You all watch as Sol lands next to the group and , like Djinn, brings the full force of his Fire abilites to bear. With a yell he reaches to his side and quickly he throws a small spark from his hands that shoots into the midst of a large group of Vicery about 50 paces off. With a quick gesture he flicks a hand out in the same direction and there is a huge explosion of heat and flame in the midst of the enemy. Sol seems to be slightly disoriented for a second as if the use of that skill tapped quite a bit of his energy before he resumes tossing small balls of living flame at the enemy. 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------
Solomon: (in character)

Solomon continued to send arrow after arrow into the enemy finding that his shots resulted in kills most of the time, which pleased him in a small unoccupied part of his mind. It was only after a Vicery warrior fell dead out of the sky almost ontop of him, transfixed by one of Aalrik's arrows that he was brought back to the reality of the situation and he took stock of his remaining supply of arrows. He was shocked to find that he only had five left...

Looking around he saw that his Qalm was approaching, retreating back to the air carriage that he was currently propped up against, under the unyielding fire of Aalrik's bow and the whirling dervish of death that had become Robb and Sven. Letting his mind wander for the briefest of moments he found the links to his Qalm created by the binding cermony and used them to lead his own telepathic abilities. Looking at each of his compatriots in turn he found that most of them had injuries that needed to be dealt with before the could return to the fight at top ability he decided that he would be most useful in being able to deal with those injuries rather than waste his remaining shafts on the unending sea of Vicery bodies. 

Placing his bow to the ground next to him he took one of the pouches of fresh spring water he always carried with him and emptied the contents onto his injured leg, willing the liquid into the still gaping wound. His breath caught and he almost lost his focus as he, through the water, began to force the nerves back into place. He screamed in pain as he did this but the cry was lost in the noise of battle, sharpening his focus he forced the muscle fibers to knit themselves back together, a strangle wriggling sensation threatend to overwelm his concentration as the nerves and muscles wound themselves back into harmony. At last he let out a sigh of relief and exhaustion as the skin finally closed, fresh and pink, whole where seconds ago there had been a gaping, debilitating cut. 

Solomon stood, reeled a bit from the exhaustion of the healing, and found that his leg was perfectly able to take his weight and respond in kind. Bringing himself back to the moment he looked around and hoped that he had enough energy left to do the same for his Qalm as he had just done for himself.


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## Djinn24

Looking around I see the members of my qalm falling back to the air coach leaving a large open area. Pulling every bit of energy I can muster I feel the heat building and rising in me. I hold in it until I feel the power threaten to rip me apart and let it leap from my body forming an inferno around me and into the skies immolating vicrey before they even know what happened. On the edge of the inferno the vicrey are knocked from the sky and burned. As the energy leave my body I stumble my way to the aircarriage as the darkness threatens to overcome me.


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## apidude

Aalrik, from his vantage point on top of the coach, watched as a large swarm of Vicery began to disengage from the Tashiri Aria and descended like a cloud of locusts toward the earthbound Tashiri. It was clear that they were targeting the Tashiri on the ground to reduce the capabilities of the Tashiri in the air as they would descend to defend their earthbound Qalms in response. 

He sent four arrows into the air speeding the flight and accuracy of his arrows, enhancing the power of his bow and directing the furies of the arrows to guide them to their targets. Four Vicery fell from the swarm that descended toward them.

As he nocked his fifth arrow he glanced around, looking for the members of his Qalm. 

Soloman was on his feet swaying, his bow at his feet. Obviously he had healed the wound on his leg and was gingerly beginning to move to the other wounded members of the Qalm. 

Sven and Robb were standing side by side with their backs to the coach creating a wall of death that solidified the Qalm and gave them a point to build from. Sven was opening cracks in the earth that would swallow whole groups of Vicery but for every Vicery Sven destroyed, 5 more landed and began to move toward the besieged group. 

He caught sight of Djinn as the air around him exploded into flame, vaporizing Vicery around him in a wide firestorm, but Djinn stumbled back from the flames, weakened, and he fell against the side of the coach next to Robb and Sven his face white from the pain of his broken arm.

Sol, swooping in from the battle above, waved his hand and a spark flew to the middle of a group of Vicery, then exploded with a huge report. The pressure of the explosion flattened the Vicery into the grasslands and turned into a ball of flame that consumed everything it touched. Sand fused and the sparce, dry shrubs instantly turned to ash as the Vicery were crushed and burned. Then Sol stumbled, his eyes losing their focus for a second or two, then he began to move toward the coach and the rest of the Qalm, sending small balls of weak flame that struck and burned individual Vicery. Aalrik impaled a Vicery with one of his barb tipped arrows as it flew to attack Sol as he retreated to cover. Fifty more Vicery landed in the space he blasted, small puffs of hot ash rising from the ground as they sprinted toward the Qalm.

Aalrik saw Adam in the blur of motion around the coach. Adam's blood, running freely from his head wound, had run into his eyes, blinding him as tried to fight off blows from a Vicery who was striking at him in a blur of blades. 

Aalrik drew back the full draw of the bow, enhanced the bow's wooden power to its utmost and held it. Adam and the Vicery were weaving and blocking and the angle was such that the odds of hitting Adam with the arrow were high. 

Aalrik followed the fight with the tip of his arrow. Adam stumbled and nearly fell and his head dropped for a second. The Vicery pounced, its blades flashing toward Adam's throat. Aalrik released the arrow and, in a blur of motion, immediately followed with another. As Adam lifted his head and returned to guard against the blades, he felt the wind of the two arrows stir the hair over his right ear and the barbed shafts embedded themselves in the Vicery's neck, inches from each other. The creature dropped to the ground and quivered. Adam stared at it for a second, stunned, then glanced over toward Aalrik. Aalrik gave him a quick nod, nocked another arrow and scanned the area for more targets.

The Vicery were now landing in large groups around the coach. Those that were on the ground were advancing toward the embattled Qalm and more were breaking off from the Tashiri Aria above and swooping down to overwhelm the embattled Qalm on the ground below. 

Aalrik stopped in mid draw. The Vicery were landing out of reach of the weapons of the Qalm then moving forward in numbers that would prevent even the superior skills and abilities of the Tashiri from withstanding their attack. Sven was directing his Earth Furies to disrupt the ground, opening gaps and swallowing small groups of the approaching insect warriors but there were to many landing, 4-5 warriors replacing each of those who were sucked into the earth. 

His arrows were not going to be enough.

"Enough of this!" he thought, and reached out as he had been taught by Aillisian and began to sense the life in the desert scrublands around him. 

The din of the battle receded to a distant whisper, as he found the life forces of the desert and began to awake them. He closed his eyes and called on the furies that rested beneath earth in the network of life that distinguished the desert furies from those of the forests of his home. They felt ...fainter ... different ... harsher ... but they were slowly awakening and beginning to stir. He could feel the tremors of Sven's manipulation of the earth furies in the response of that living network to his call.

As the rest of the Qalm began to prepare for the onslaught of the overwhelming numbers of Vicery, the short stunted brush, dry and brittle in the heat, began creak and sway before the Qalm. For 50 paces around Aalrik, even from the charred barren spots that had been burned by the fires from the battle's explosions, small green shoots began to sprout from the dry brush and twine upward, lengthening and twisting as they grew, small, flame-yellow flowers opening to the harsh sunlight. 

Thorned vines began to creep from the shade beneath the scrubbrush to entangle the Vicery as the power of the furies Aalrik were manipulating expanded and lengthened them. They wrapped around the feet and legs of the Vicery advancing on the Qalm, and climbed their bodies, pulling them down and ensnaring them in a tough web of thorned vines. Roots spouted from nodules beneath the thorns and crept into the ****** of the Vicery's exoskeleton armor, seeking the moisture it sensed within. At every node a large blood red flower with a black center spiraled open to the sun as it found the moisture it craved.

Flowers began to bloom across the battlefield as the Vicery on the ground were trapped and pulled apart by the questing, moisture-starved plant life.

Around the Qalm itself was a small open space for a few paces but outside that area the shoots and vines continued to snake upward for ten to twelve feet, the tips of the plants stretching into the air, waving this way and that, seeking to ensnare any flying Vicery that dared approach to closely. As the Qalm watched, the thorns snared several Vicery and pulled them down into the pulsating web below. As the trapped Vicery turned their blades on the plants and hacked at the web of tough cords and fireballs and blasts of fire burned gaps in the living plants surrounding them, the plants bark hardened, sprouting more thorns, and they wove themselves back into an impenetrable wall, scrabbling after the Vicery who tried to break free and rise back into the air.

The flying Vicery quickly retreated out of reach and began to fly toward the small open space left around the coach in which the Qalm readied itself. The brush and vines below swayed and reached out to follow them, stretching and grasping any of the insect warriors that ventured to low or got within reach.

Aalrik opened his eyes, swaying from the effort it took to empower the reluctant, dormant life in the desert, beads of sweat running into his eyes and down his arm. His hands were slick with it as he nocked an arrow and grimly began to systematically shoot down any Vicery that evaded his defensive wall. As he swayed, dizzy, the wall of plant life surrounding them began to slow its movement and then lay limply again on the parched earth, the force driving them dwindling with his fatigue.


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## Serpion5

*Adam*

The bastard vicery were closing in, and Adam was hard pressed to keep up with the flow of battle. He was no stranger to thinking on his feet however and it was probably this skill alone which kept him from being beheaded or bisected as his opponents continued to advance. He could see that his allies had begun to fall back towards the carriage and form a defensive ring. **** had sustained damage, but still fought on in an effort to ensure Adam`s survival. He was grateful for her efforts, realizing that her diversionary tactics were halving the number of enemies he`d face at a time. 

The latest opponent was a giant brute that wielded a serrated blade. He struggled to fight as he squinted through his blood clouded vision. It levelled a quick flurry of heavy strikes, almost dislodging Adam`s scimitar from his grasp and causing him to stumble as he retreated. As it raised the blade high, the tashiri realized he had failed. Death would claim him at any moment now and- 

Two arrows suddenly zoomed past, and Adam realized that he`d been saved. As the vicery fell backwards, choking on its own blood, Adam risked a glance backwards and his eyes met those of the elf Aalrik. Aalrik gave a quick nod as the young man righted himself and wiped the blood from his eyes. 

Aalrik had used some kind of fury technique that had brought them all respite for a few short moments. Adam fell back to the carriage and readied his blade. With a quick thought command, he recalled **** who swept in and landed on his shoulder. The raw aggression was still very powerful within her and she glared with blazing teal tinted eyes as the vicery prepared another assault...


----------



## The Forgotten

Belak felt the metal spread to cover his face and just as it reached his eyes he saw a rapier slide past his guard. The blade lunged at his throat and bounced off. Belak laughed as he realised that his body had finally become covered in Adamantium. He strode through the hail of blows being hurled at him by the Vicery laughing as he ended their lives. He sheathed his daggers and formed his arms into blades and suddenly began darting through the ranks of the Vicery. Whatever damage he had accomplished before now seemed trivial. He was like a metal daemon. Blades bounced off his Adamantium shield like rain and he killed without thinking, letting instinct guide him. Everything seemed to slow down as he moved through the Vicery, killing as he went. It was all so easy. He retrieved his sword as he moved and sheathed it with one hand while his other smashed a Vicery into the floor again and again.

Belak laughed in sheer exultation, he was invincible. The fatigue caused by generating the metal shield swiftly vanished in the battle joy. Belak danced through the swarm of Vicery, dealing death to all that opposed him. He noticed Isira helping Zacarish back to the defensive ring formed by the rest of his Qalm and ran to cover them, smashing aside another few Vicery at the same time. He smashed from the surrounding horde into another Vicery that was just about to slash its sword into Zacarish’s chest. Belak kicked the Vicery in the chest as its sword blows bounced off his armoured skin before he head butted it and it collapsed, unconscious.

He used his body as a shield to protect Isira and his fellow Dark Elf, darting in front of blows meant for them before knocking the foe away. He moved like quicksilver and not a single blade struck his Qalm members. As one Vicery got over aggressive and darted forward Belak knocked its blade aside before jabbing one of his arms right through its thorax. It collapsed, gurgling blood. Belak then spun and reformed his arms into hammers and slammed them into the head of another Vicery. The sheer weight behind the double blow crushed its skull to jelly before he kicked it in the chest and it fell backwards. He laughed once more when he saw that Zacarish and Isira had reached the rest of the Qalm and he danced through the ranks of the Vicery to join the Qalm himself…


----------



## Santaire

Zacarish slashed his sword in a wide arc that whistled just short of the leaping forms of three Vicery before coming to a halt embedded in the chest of a fourth. He ripped the blade free with a grunt of effort and focussing all his strength sent out a sonic pulse that cracked the blades of every Vicery within thirty metres of his current location. The effort drained him and had it not had such spectacular results he would have died there and then. As it was he had a few extra seconds in which to figure out how the hell he was going to get out of this.

As he was thinking this he heard a thud behind him and suddenly he was grasped by someone. It took all his self control to prevent the instinctive reaction to spin and drive his sword through the person’s throat. He recognized the blade held in the other hand of his rescuer as Isira’s and guessed that it was the High Elf woman unless she was dead and someone else had taken the blade. He almost smiled. He doubted anyone could kill Isira without a serious fight considering how difficult she had been even for him.

As she dragged him towards the location of the rest of their Qalm Zacarish’s blade spun in a blur with every shred of his being focussed into keeping him and the High Elf woman alive. The blade did not stop its ceaseless blur that knocked aside every blade thrust at him or Isira. He saw Belak crashing through the foe and paused for a moment. His fellow Dark Elf had become a metal monster, every centimetre of his body covered in an impenetrable armour that stopped all blows while his arms had formed into twin blades that dealt death with terrifying efficiency. As one of the Vicery tried to take advantage of his pause Belak crashed from the surrounding crowd and smashed it aside. He then used his body as a shield to protect Zacarish and Isira and Zacarish marvelled at his skill with his new form.

Then they had reached their Qalm and Isira leaned him against the wall of the carriage before turning to continue fighting. Zacarish struggled up, the wound on his leg would not stop him dying properly and alongside his Qalm for it seemed that they must die for the swarm of Vicery was too great for them to defeat. Despite himself he grinned. If he had to choose where he would die then this would have definitely been one of his choices. Fighting alongside his friends for a good cause…


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## Lord Ramo

Adam looked round to see the rest of the Qualm falling back towards the air carraige, Adam being one of the first to make it back to the Air carriage, a corridor of dead Vicery left behind him as he fought his way back. He stood his back to the air carraige as he readied himself for the next wave.

Adam was an imposing figure in his armour, his blade bloodied with the blood of the Vicery that had opposed him. He was joined quickly by the dwarf Sven, the others beginning to marshal around him and the rest of the air carriage. Sven and him quickly found themselves back to back as the Vicery pressed on their position, intent on the destruction of the Tashiri. Robb fought on grimly, knowing that sooner or later at the rate the Vicery were replacing their losses, they would soon be overwhelmed. 

Sven, Robb could feel, was using his power as he caused a rent to open right in front of Robb, Vicery fell into the whole screeching as they fell before he used his powers once more to crush them. He stood, warhammer swinging and taking with it scores of Vicery, Robb lunging to his right to block a attack from a Vicery and killed it before he could take down Sven. Robb laughed as he took up his position on the right. _*"Haha, master Dwarf, a right old mess we find ourselves in then?"*_ Robb boomed as his blade stopped the Vicery that had leapt at him.

Robb and Sven had formed a killing ground, where upon they anchored the Tashiri line. Robb and Sven were giving their brothers a chance to reach the carriage, whereupon they could defend better. Robb had no time to think as he and Sven stalled the Vicery advance, his metal walker powers aiding where he needed them. However even with the amount of damage they were dealing the Vicery Robb could tell that they couldn't hold there forever.


----------



## Jackinator

*Isira*

Her and her assailant continued plummeting towards the earth below, locked in their struggle. She concentrated all of her strength into pushing at it's blade. It slowly began to move away from her eye, the beast grunting as it attempted to thrust it into her skull despite their roaring fall. She screamed at it in anger and a fist of air punched it in the face, pure instinct taking over as she pushed them around in the air, leaving her on top as the creature crashed to the ground, their fall broken by another chittering Vicery. There was a brittle crack as it's carapace shattered and the two insects collapsed in a heap as she rolled free.

She pulled her remaining knife from her boot, rolling to her feet and thrusting it quickly up under the Vicery's chin, penetrating it's brain. It collapsed silently and she leapt forward, grabbing the back of Zacarish's armour. She began to pull him with her, struggling back towards the coach, slashing around her with her knife. As they neared the other Tashiri she spotted her fallen weapons, she quickly sheathed her knife, flicking the fallen one up with her foot and catching it, sheathing it in the opposite boot. She plucked her rapier from where it had fallen point down beside a fallen Vicery, throwing her cloak back over her shoulder to clear her sword arm as the two of them reached the group of Tashiri.

She staggered into the circle, the fight had not been easy and her body was sore from the fall, but otherwise she had escaped much of the harm that others appeared to have suffered, she was fortunate...


----------



## Midge913

*Update #9*

All: As you continue to fight the ever encroaching insectiod menance, it becomes more and more evident that you are going to be overwhelmed by the sheer number of enemies. Just as you all feel that you can fight no more you hear a bellowing roar from above and with a crack of sound that you all know comes from the severe acceleration of a skilled Tashiri Aria you look up to the skies. You see two Tashiri plummeting to the ground at the speed of sound and your breath catches in your throat as you fear the two Tashiri are going to strike the ground and be killed. With a mighty bang you see the first Tashiri touch down to the ground, the barren earth cracking beneath the impact and a large ripple of earth moving out ward from the point of his impact. Vicery are scattered everywhere as the ripple of earth grows to a wave. YOu see that the person that has arrived is none other than your Hetat Nesrin. As the wave of earth pushes back your enemies, and disrupts their charge Nesrin screams out and thrusts his hands at the wall of brush and brambles that Aalrik called forth and in an instant it surges to life and begins to fire sharp spiney thorns, almost a foot long and as thick around as ones thumb into the retreating insects. 

The second Tashiri lands lightly on the ground and with an odd wave of his hands a spiral of living flame starts to ripple out ward from the air carriage, pushing insects back and burning them on the spot. You don't recognize this individual, but he also wears the purple sash of a Hetat. This new man, a high elf by his appearance, yells out to you saying, "Tashiri Infernus lend your aid to the net, keep it growing outward and upward, forming a dome. Over us." 

The two Hetat then start to lay into the the close to 75 Vicery that are still inside the perimeter of the defenses that they have begun to create. Nesrin roars out, "Nemogan, come." and from the ground crawls a large ape-like creature, standing almost 6' tall at its hunched shoulder and made of pure stone, eyes growing like coals, that smashes into the Vicery, fists, heavy as boulders, crushing the life from the Vicery that it comes against. The head of Nesrin's axe bursts into azure flames and he becomes a whirlwind of death in the midst of the enemy. 

The high elf Hetat screams out in elvish and a large panther of black and purple flame leaps from a small latern hanging at his belt that immediatley rushes into the enemy, and as he draws his sword he begins to lash out at the Vicery with thin bursts of flame that leave marks on your vision they burn so hotly, incinerating Vicery into puffs of dust and smoke. As a swordsman you have never seen his equal, each strike slaying an enemy and his blade a blur of defense, so quick it is impossible to follow his movements. 

The arrival of the two Hetat fills you with renewed purpose and drive.

Djinn (djinn24): YOu have several choices here. Your arm is still obviously useless and broken and you know that to reach your full effectiveness you need healing. However as you hear the newly arrived Hetat cry out for assistance you reach out and feel the crafting he has begun working. You can't really put a finger on how you know it but you know just how to add your own power to his working to make it grow even more. You see that Sol has begun to assist the new Hetat, no flames, but pure heat radiates from his outstretched arms, and you can tell that his power is adding to the growing dome of pure fire that has begun to encapsulate the beleagured Qalm. You also see that there are still enemies to be engaged that are still inside the defenses the Hetat have begun to erect, but you know that in your exhausted and injured state you would only be able to handle one or two of the enemy. Do you help Sol and the new Hetat erect the barrier, do you attempt to put yourself first in line for a healers attention, or do you engage the remaining enemy. 

Aalrik (Apidude): As you watch Nesrin reawaken your working you are amazed at the complexity of the crafting he brings to life with ease. You are simply amazed at the ability of the two Hetat to work so many complex workings at the same time from multiple disciplines of Fury Craft. There are still several Vicery zooming inside the growing dome that you can easily deal with as well as providing cover for Solomon to begin healing the Qualms wounds. You are able to take down 6-7 more Vicery from the air as you bring your prowess with the bow to bear. 

Adam (Serpion5): Solomon rushes toward you, even though you find it odd that he does so, He roughly graps you by the head one hand covering the wound above your eyebrow the other pouring a small amount of water on the top of your head from a small pouch. THe water seeps down between his fingers and you gasp as you suddenly feel his presense inside your head, the wound above your eye searing with cold. A few meager seconds later Solomon removes his hand, wipes your blood from his palm with a clean white rag he has produced from another pouch, give you a quick nod and moves on in Zacarish's direction. Reaching up to touch your forehead, you find a patch of new skin, the wound gone, though the area is still a bit tender to the touch. Your vision clear, and the arrival of the Hetat giving you renewed strenght you rush back into the battle. Using your quick style of assualt to disorient and kill the remaining Vicery. You can kill up to 4 yourself, and **** can take another. 

Belak (The Forgotten): The arrival of the Hetat fills you with hope for victory as you rush into aid them in the close combat. These remaining Vicery fight with the ferocity of cornered animals, since they are, and it takes all of your skill to dispatch 5 more Vicery. As you fight you are amazed at the skill of the Two Hetat in your midst. As you continue to fight the strain of maintaining both your bladed appendages and adamantium form really begins to tap your strenght. You feel that you can only maintain your armored form for a few more minutes before you simply don't have the strength, but for now your abilities hold. 

Zacarish (Santaire): The tremor that shakes the ground as Nesrin lands causes your injured leg to give out underneath you. As you attempt to rise you feel hands push you back to the ground and Solomon is there by your side. You gasp in pain as his hands examine the edges and severity of the wound to your leg. You feel him pour a small amount of liquid onto the wound, but you are unable to see what he is doing. All of a sudden your back arches and your msucles go ridgid as a severe cold permeates your body starting from the wound in your leg. YOu can feel Solomons presence you your mind, telling you to be calm, that the pain it momentary. You feel as though the healing lasts forever but only a few seconds later in reality the sensation begins to fade and Solomon helps hauls you to your feet before slumping against the air carriage, obviously fatigued. You test the leg and find that not only does it take your weight you feel that it is good as new apart from some soreness and stiffness. Seeing your Hetat, Belak, and the others taking the fight to remaining Vicery you jump into the fray. Even though you are tired, you are able to slay 4 Vicery. 

Robb (Lord Ramo): Fighting next to Sven you delve deep into your reserves of energy, vitalized by the arrival of the Hetat and the forced retreat of so many of the Vicery Swarm. You are completely suprised by the arrival of the Hetat's manifested furies, and feel a compulsion to summon forth Terros as Sven yells something in harsh Dwarvish and huge bear, seemingly made of pure granite claws its way out of the earth and at Sven's direction rushes the enemy, crushing, clawing, and tearing at the Vicery with its jaws. Figting side by side with the valiant Dwarf you are able to kill 6 more with a combination of metal abilities. Terros will take 3 more if you summon him forth. 

Isira (Jackinator): Seeing that Zacarish was being tended to by Solomon you feel comfortable jumping back into the fight. Sliding back into the fight, rapier flashing, you are able to kill 4 Vicery. As you fight you are amazed at the speed and skill of the two Hetat fighting in your midst, and the fact that they are able to bring martial prowess to bear so effeciently while maintain several different complex craftings astound you.


----------



## Midge913

*Solomon and Sven*

Solomon (in character):

As gingerly moved to close ranks with the Qalm he heard a bellowing warcry from high above. He clapped his hands over his ears as a lound boom echoed across the field and mere seconds later he was forced to steady himself against the air carriage as a tremor rocked out from the impact crater just ahead of the group. As Solomon stared he saw a figure, whom he immediately recognized as Nesrin both by his features and his mental signature through the bond, rise from a kneeling position, and with a bellow of rage thrust his hands into the ground at his sides. The tremors in the ground seemed to increase by ten fold, but it left an area about 50 ft in diameter clear. Solomon gasped a wave of earth rolled out of the ground and pushed the Vicery back away from the beleagured Qalm. 

Nerin was joined by another Tashiri, a high elf, how began to incinerate Vicery left and right. Shaking his head Solomon resolved to get his head into the fight. 

Taking in his Qalm mates, he saw that Adam was sporting a vicious gash over his eyes, running along his forehead. Laughing to himself Solomon hoped that the was the worst wound he would need to heal, though he doubted it. 

Rushing over to his brother he roughly grabbed him by the head, and through a telepathic link, calmed his brother by saying directly into his mind, "Be still." Pouring a small amount of water into the over the wound, he directed the furies in the liquid to work their way into the gash, his brow furrowing slightly at as he concentrated on knitting the flesh back together. The healing was quick and easy, releasing Adam's head he gave him a nod of encouragement and then, seeing Zacarish trying to rise onto his injured leg, moved off into the Dark Elf's directiong. 

With two hands to the Dark Elf's chest he forced his companion back to the ground and following the trickle of blood on the ground reached into the wound, examining the bone that was clearly visible. He was suprised that the man had been able to walk at all as the attack had also broken the bone, such was the force. Solomon needed to hurry as he felt through his furies that the jagged edges of the bone were very close to the femoral artery. one wrong move and his friend could bleed out very quickly. Creating a mental link through their bond he tried to prepare the Zacarish for the pain of such a healing, poured water over the wound, and sent his furies deep within the tissues of Zacarish's leg. 

Solomon almost vomitted from the pain that he could not help but share, but pushind down into the bone with his furies he moved the bones into alignment and began to knit the calcium and fibers backtogether. Zacarish's back arched in pain and torment as Solomon worked but he continued to utter soothing words to his friend. Slowly muscles, tissues, and bones renewed and regnerated. Finally Solomon felt smooth new skin under his hands, and though weary to the point of blacking out he reached down and helped Zacarish to his feet. 

Slumping against the carriage he said the Dark Elf swordman, "Go brother.... I shall be fine. Help our companions."

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Sven (in character):

Sven felt the shudder through his barefeet as Nesrin hit the ground, drawing on the furies of the earth to cushion is landing. He felt the tremor of furies more powerful than he could wield as his Hetat bent the earth to his will and called forth his own fury. Sven was Surpised that he had neglect his own furies and smashing aside a over eager bug with avalanche, He laughed as he reflected on Robb's jest and joy in the battle. 

"Indeed we do Master Eckardson!," thrusting his chin in the direction of the two Hetat he chidded, " We can't let them have all the fun now can we."

Taking a moment he placed his hand, palm open, he began to call in his mind to Asher, his constant companion, until he felt the great furies closeness, as Asher burst forth from the ground he screamed out in dwarven, "Vennag meri Asher! Kaglem en'morn kaurn!"

The ground at his feet broke open as a large granite bear clawed its way from the earth, Rushing forward at his friends side Sven enhanced his strength to that of 10 men, his warhammer crushing heads, thoraxs and legs with every swipe. Beside him Asher ripped into the Vicery with wreckless abandon. Sven held out hope that with the arrival of the Hetat this battle was not yet lost...


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

The hetat`s power was unreal. Nesrin and one of his allies had come swiftly to the rescue and Adam was immesnsely grateful for the respite. From what he could ascertain the other hetat would be bringing his own qualm very shortly, so it was likely their lines were about to be bolstered.

Through the infuriating red mist pooling above his eye, Adam was able to glimpse Solomon approaching rapidly. As new to the qualm as they all were, Adam was not yet fully accustomed to the extent of Solomon`s abilities so it was a little surprising when the larger man wrapped his hand firmly around Adam`s head. 

_Be still._ His voice permeated Adam`s mind via telepathy, and the windwalker was compelled to obey. He could feel ****`s scrutinizing gaze from just above as Solomon poured a small amount of water over Adam`s wound and commanded the furies within to re-knit the flesh. It was a curious feeling, painful to be sure but at the same time somehow relieving. A few moments later Solomon withdrew, cleaning his hand on a rag he had taken out before giving a quick nod. Adam returned the gesture with thanks and moved aside as Solomon rushed off to aid Zacarish. 

With renewed energy and the wound now healed and clean to the touch, Adam psyched himself up for another run. This time he would endeavor to kill as many as he could in as short a time as possible. He relayed this intent to ****, and she confirmed with a screech of aggression. As he launced himself on the offensive, she fell in behind, swooping low to the ground and preparing for an attack pattern the two of them had used before. Adam drew upon his energy reserves, bringing all of his speed to bear as **** increased her own to match.

Adam`s power reached its current zenith and for him time seemed to slow down. He swung his curved blade through the ankles of one vicery and followed through with a slash to its neck. Such was his speed that it was already dead and falling before it was aware of his presence. He had already moved onto a second, leaping over its head and aiming a downward slash as he somersaulted behind it. It began to fall forward to be impacted by ****. Her razored talons raked its eyes before she broke off and followed Adam further. 

He had reached a third and this one had begun to brace itself for the blur of death zooming towards it. With its arms raised defensively Adam found it childishly easy to simply impale it upwards through its abdomen. Spinning away he turned to face the fourth and paused for barely a moment. **** blurred past and strafed the creature`s face, leaving its eyes a bloody mess. Adam lurched forward and delivered two quick strikes that severed one arm and the opposing leg below the knee. Ahead, **** had cut the throat of the fifth enemy and at this point Adam became aware of a thudding sound a short distance behind him. Glancing back, he noticed with a grin that only now had the first vicery he`d slain had hit the ground. 

'Five?' He muttered, as his power began to ebb and he withdrew a short distance so as not to outdistance the others of his qualm. 'Not bad.'


----------



## Santaire

Zacarish fell as Nesrin thudded into the ground. He cried out in pain as the fall jarred his already broken leg. He tried to push himself up but felt strong hands on his chest pushing him down. It was Solomon. All of a sudden Zacarish felt a presence at the edge of his mind. He instinctively lashed out, pushing it away but he heard Solomon’s thoughts telling him to calm. Although Zacarish had heard of telepathic communication it was a shock to have it used upon oneself. He relaxed and let Solomon pour some liquid onto his wound. Then he heard the man murmuring and suddenly agony flooded his body. His back arched and his mouth opened to scream although no sound escaped his mouth.

He felt Solomon’s presence once more and the man told him to calm and that the pain was only momentary. Although the healing seemed to last an age in reality it was only a few seconds before Solomon slumped and told him it was over. Zacarish’s back relaxed and he looked at his leg, fearful of what he might see there. His wound was gone, all that remained was a small scar that Zacarish guessed would remain for the rest of his life. Solomon hauled him to his feet and Zacarish tested his leg, finding that it took his weight easily. Solomon slumped against the carriage, tired and fatigued. "Go brother.... I shall be fine. Help our companions," he said. Zacarish nodded his thanks before reaching to his belt. He took hold of his helmet and picked it up, lowering it over his head. He nodded once more to Solomon before turning.

He picked up his sword and held it ready before walking into the swirling melee. All the anger he had felt before was gone and now Zacarish radiated calm and control. He could feel the weariness in his bones crying out for respite but while Zacarish still drew breath and there was a sword in his hand and a foe in front of him he would not yield. He held the sword loosely in his grip and when a Vicery came at him he merely dropped it and drew his dagger. He spun, time seeming to slow down as he spun, bringing the dagger round to embed it up to the hilt in the Vicery’s head. He left the blade there and snatched one of the Vicery’s rapiers as it fell. He spun, wielding the blade as if it were a part of him.

Although to him he seemed to be fighting in slow motion to every one else he was almost a blur. Zacarish gave in to the furies and they guided his every movement. He realized that he could feel a guiding presence behind them and he silently thought _what are you?_ But he did not wait for an answer as a third Vicery charged him, leaping over the falling corpse of the 2nd. Zacarish ducked its blow and ripped the rapier from its hand before stabbing it in the thorax with both blades. He kicked it off them and spun, catching the raised blades of a 4th Vicery. He kicked it in the abdomen and it stumbled back before he spun, leaping up and bringing both blades round in a scything slash that cut its head off.

He turned from the corpse and saw Nesrin and the other Hetat fighting and the sight froze him to the spot. Both were amazing warriors of tremendous skill but despite Nesrin’s power Zacarish’s gaze was fixed on the other Hetat. He was a swordsman of unbelievable skill who moved like quicksilver and struck with the power and one of Sven’s hammer blows. At his side fought a panther formed of purple fire. Zacarish thought of the day where he would posses such power and smiled. If he lived that long…


----------



## Jackinator

*Isira*

The power wielded by the two Hetat was terrifying, alone they had slain dozens of the Vicery in mere seconds, utilizing skills from all of the elements. But their impact was far more than physical, the Vicery were chittering with unrest, and although they continued with their attack, Isira was willing to bet it was with reluctance. Already they were beginning to press forward again, anxious to do some damage to the near impervious Hetat in their midst.

She glanced over her shoulder, seeing Solomon arriving by Zacarish she drew her blade and stepped forwards. Zacarish would be fine with the water mage healing him. She threw her cloak over her shoulder, releasing her sword arm as she dashed into the melee. A flash of movement was visible off to the side as a fellow Tashiri Aria hurtled into the melee.

She somersaulted over the first Vicery, planting her feet in the chest of one behind it, her wind driven impact sending it tumbling while she spun, slashing the turning Vicery down. A quick lunge put paid to a rushing enemy while another's blade was deflected an inch from her left arm, pushed aside by the furiously rushing shield of wind there, it stumbled, and she thrust the rapier into it's throat.

The one she had kicked struggled to it's feet and swung her, she ducked, lunging forward but it;s other weapon came down, deflecting her blow easily. The hilt of it's weapon came down on the back of her head, knocking her to the side. But it was only a glancing blow and she rolled out of the way of it's following attack, thrusting out a hand and pushing it of balance before her blade whipped around and cut it's throat.

She paused, breathing only lightly. There was space around her, she had only fought a small group, most of the others were more concerned with the two Hetat. She glanced over, seeing that the other Tashiri Aria had already withdrawn from the combat, he had fought with almost unbelievable speed. Zacarish too was just now emerging from the fray and she leapt over to join him, gliding gracefully through the air before touching down silently beside him. She smiled grimly at him, then nodded towards the Hetat. "They are impressive aren't they?"


----------



## apidude

*Aalrik Faengoed - Wood Elf - Wood Walker*

Aalrik scanned the sky above the dormant defensive circle he had called to life. He sent several arrows up into the sky and two Vicroy fell to the earth. Then he was shaken by a concussion that rocked the coach and, from the corner of his eye, he saw two flashes of color. Before him Nesrin and another Tashiri Aira swooped to a violent landing. As their feet touched the ground, shockwaves rippled out through the earth, knocking those Vicroy who had landed and were consolidating their numbers for an attack from their feet as the earth buckled and rippled outward from the Hetats.

As Aalrik watched the vines and stark thorned branches jerk to life once again. He could feel the furies he used to build his living plant wall being empowered and manipulated in ways that astounded him. His wall of plant life reached out again to snatch at the flying Vicroy, preventing them from landing in large numbers to attack the Qualms. But more than that, the thorn bushes snapped and threw large thorns at the circling Vicroy. The thorns flashed skyward and dozens of Vicroy fell to the earth to be covered and pulled apart by the questing plants.

Aalrik watched as the earth erupted and a giant granite bear and a large anthropoid ape burst from the ground and waded into the Vicroy on the ground smashing them into smears on the hard dry packed earth. 

The Vicroy scatter back into the air to dodge the manifestations and the questing dome of plant life.

“What am I doing, standing here,” thought Aalrik, drawing his bow, sighting on one of the flying insectoid warriors and loosing in one swift fluid motion. “While the Vicroy are distracted by the Hetats and their manifestations, I can be shooting them out of the sky.”

He scanned the ground around the coach to check on the status of the rest of the Qualm.

Solomon was leaning on the coach before him, panting, waving off Zacarish’s attempts to help him. Aalrik heard him say, “"Go brother.... I shall be fine. Help our companions". He was in the shelter of the coach and no Vicroy were approaching the coach.

Sven was bashing heads with his hammer, his face split into a grin and singing some bawdy Dwarvish tune in time with his blows. Despite the stress and his fatigue, Aalrik chuckled at the sight of the short dwarf, feet bare to the soil, stepping forward and launching a blow with the hammer he carried. With each strike Sven smashed a Vicroy to pulp. Alongside him snarled the granite bear, the stone of the bear’s joints grinding and popping as it moved. It’s eyes never left the warriors in front of it except to check on the position of the dwarf .

Adam’s head had been healed and, although he was still covered with blood, he had moved like smoke into the thick of the battle with a winged manifestation circling above him and attacking Vicroy to slow to escape. Behind the pair lay five Vicroy, sprawled and wounded, draining what passed for their blood into the parched earth.

Zacarish and Isira were now moving like dancers, back to back, their weapons moving like they were guided by one mind. Zacarish moved smoothly but Aalrik’s sharp eyes picked out the red scarred tissue on his leg that showed the extent of the healing Solomon had performed.

None of his Qualm seemed in immediate danger of being overrun, so Aalrik focused on sensing the movements of the living and flying warriors then drew and loosed 5 quick arrows. Fury strengthened and fury guided, the shafts were blurs in the dusty air and five Vicroy fell, the first hitting the ground only a fraction of a second before the last. 

As they hit the earth, the wall of plants Aalrik had created and Nesrin had reactivated and renewed, stretched out and wrapped around the shattered bodies. In seconds blood red blooms opened to the sky as the warriors were drained by the moisture starved plants.


.


----------



## Angel of Blood

The size of the blast shocked Sol slightly as he watched the Vicery within the blast radius burn, though he took a savage pleasure from watching so many of them perish at his own hand. But the power he had but into the strike had sapped a great deal of energy from him, he stumbled slightly as he fell back towards the carriage, feebly trying to send fireballs at the now advancing survivors of his attack. 

As one charged forward to attack him, he turned to face it despite his weakened state. But even as he did so an arrow fired with pinpoint accuracy into the Vicery sent it crashing down. He turned to see Aalrik stood atop the carriage raining arrows into the advancing Vicery. He nodded in thanks to him and fell into the safety of the carriage to recover for a moment

He looked around at his Qualm. Zacarish and Isira had joined together, fighting back to back, Zacarish having just destroyed the weapons of all the Vicery within range of his powers before Isira stepped in to stop him from being overwhelmed. Even then it didn’t seem enough before another joined them. Belak had covered himself in a second skin of adamantium and was swirling through the horde, killing Vicery all around him. Blunt and brutal as it was, it was somehow beautiful to behold. The remaining embers of the fire Sol had created shimmered off his metal skin. He covered some of the Qualm as they fell back before battering his way back to them aswell. Aalrik summoned the very earth itself to disrupt the swarm and aid everyone to fall back.

Despite everyones efforts the swarm was still advancing, Sol was sure they were going to be overwhelmed at any moment. Even as he thought this however he heard a roar and a bang from the skies. Looking up he saw two plummeting Tashiri, hurtling towards the ground at a incredible speed before one of them, Nesrin, crashed into the ground with such force he sent the swarm around him back into the air he has just recently vacated. 

Without pause Nesrin thrust his arms out with a cry and intensified the brambles Aalrik had summoned, manipulating the thorns to grow tenfold and impale the swarm trying to overcome the Tashiri. 

The other Tashiri who had descended landed gracefully in contrast to Nesrins brutal and destructive landing, evidently another Hetat by the purple sash. He immediately sent out an ever expanding wave of flame in all directions that slew all the Vicery in its path. He cried out for the rest of the Tashiri Infernus to aid him in expanding the net and to create a dome enclosing them to keep the rest of the swarm out. 

Sol stepped forwards alongside the Hetat and reached out to strengthen the dome. Even though he hadn’t been taught how to make such a complex creation, he somehow instinctively knew how, the power of the Hetat radiating from his self into all the others aiding him. The feeling was incredible, Sol could feel the heat literally radiating out from his body, empowering the dome as it finally closed at the top. With the dome complete the Hetat and the others raced forwards to engage the Vicery left within. Sol was tempted to join them, but he knew he was keeping the dome intact and if he broke off now more Vicery would be able to enter and overwhelm them again, even with both the Hetat. 

But Sol wasn’t sure he could break off if he wanted to. The fire was controlling him now as much as he was controlling it. His whole body felt aflame, his hair billowing in an invisible wind, he could feel the fire burning behind his eyes, certain if someone was to look at them they would be glowing orbs instead of his arctic blue. He had never before felt so completely in tune with his abilities. 

As the others continued to fight, Sol stood immobile and oblivious to the battle, arms spread wide with a look of the most intense concentration on his face as he kept the dome intact.


----------



## Djinn24

I push what little power I have left to the newly arrived figure, guessing it is the best chance at beating back these foul beasts. I build the link and feel the primal hear and fire siphon to the figure, no real visible flame could be seen but there was a wavering of heat as the power goes from my out stretched hand. I am having difficulties concentrating as the pain from my arm threatens to overcome me. I see stars and floating spots in my vision as I continue to push power. I drop to one knee to keep from falling down.


----------



## Lord Ramo

Just as Robb began to think that the small Qalm would be over run by the tremendous amounts of Vicery, no matter how many fell, he was brought a sigh of relief as his Hetat, Nesrin and another hetat pounded from the sky. Robb watched in utter amazement as the two Hetats formed a barrier around the carriage, killing Vicery with their mighty powers, and to Robb, he was astounded by their power.

Without a doubt he thought to himself one Hetat as powerful as that could take down the entire squad, even if they worked flawlessly together as a team. When the two Hetats charged into the fight, Robb couldn't help but be swept up in trying to help them, charging along with Sven into the thick of the enemy behind Nesrin and the strange Elven hetat. As they charged, the hetats called upon their furies, Nesrins a huge ape like creature and the strange Elf a Panther of flames. 

Sven bellowed something in Dwarvish, a huge granite bear charged out of the Earth alongside Sven, leaping into the fight and killing many foes with its arsenal of weapons. Robb took only a second before he bellowed, *"Terros, Now!"*, and was rewarded as his fury, the great metal wolf leapt out of the air and straight into the fight, its powerful jaws crushing foes as it ripped limbs off with its claws. 

Robb stood by Sven as they were attacked by the Vicery, two charging him head on. Even though he was tired he still fought on, rushing forward to meet the two foes, Fang a blur to the eye. He fought quickly, using speed to break past his first opponents defences and slice its limbs off with one deft swipe of Fang, before using the momentum to block the other Vicery's attack. He grabbed a hold of the Vicery's blades, using his powers to twist and warp the metal until it exploded in a hail of small metal shards. Without a second fought his free hand flung the metal into two other Vicery, trying to get passed him, they stood no chance as the thousands of shards penetrated their bodies over and over.

Robb couldn't take satisfaction in his attack, having to duck underneath a fist blow from the Vicery before stabbing it through the gut, running his sword right through, before beheading. The injured Vicery screamed in pain, the sound utterly alien to Robb, though he could tell it was in pain. He brought his sword from up high to the ground, cutting through the Vicery's body before kicking its remains away. Terros was causing a fearsome tally on the Vicery, one was already dead from its charge, another stood without limbs, before Terros jaw enveloped its head and tore it from its shoulders. Finally Terros leapt onto a Vicery charging at Robb, ripping it apart before stalking away looking for fresh prey.

Robb took no time to heed what Terros was doing, leaping into combat with two more Vicery that had tried to flank Sven, cutting the first one down before it knew what he was or even something was there. The other however was smarter, launching itself into Robb, knocking the two of them to the ground. Robb lost his sword as he fell, though he could feel it nearby, though he could not reach it. The Vicery tried to stab down on him, but Robb kicked it away before drawing his small throwing knives. In one motion he threw three into the enemy, causing it to step back before he leapt onto it, knocking it to the ground. 

Robb had his hunting knife out, and he pressed his attack, all weight going behind his blade as he drove it into the Vicery's skull. As it spasmed and died Robb stood, retrieving his blades and fang before moving to Sven's side as he sought another target.


----------



## Midge913

*Update #10*

OOC: As with earlier posts, anyone who speaks with either of the Hetat, or for that matter any of the NPC's that I now find myself in control of, I will answer in real time so to speak. You will not need to wait for the next update for a response. 

Adam (serpion5): Looking around you see that all of the Vicery that were still inside the dome of fire that has errupted around you have been vanquished. You and the rest of the qalm made a good accounting for yourself, but dead enemies lay around the feet of the two Hetat in the dozens. Sheathing your sword, you see that you have a moment for a brief respite. How do you deal with the aftermath of the battle? This is really the first time, not only for you but for the rest of the fledglingh Tashiri, that you have used your abilities to this scale, how is your body reacting to the fatigue? With no enemies to fight you have free reign to check in with the rest of the Qalm to see how they fare, or perhaps speak with the Nesrin or the other Hetat to see what the Qalm's next move is. 

Zacarish (Santaire): Though you are incredibly fatigued from the use of your power you are some how drawn to the High Elf Hetat. Since there are no enemies left to fight inside the dome of fire that now enxapsulates the qalm you have a moment to catch your breath and reflect on the battle. How do you deal with the aftermath of the battle and how does your body react the overwhelming fatigue you feel? You have free reign to speak with the rest of your companions about the fight, but you also see the High Elf Hetat standing near Belak, checking on his condition while simultaneously inspecting the dome of flame that now protects the party from the remainder of the Vicery force. Do you speak with him?

Isira (Jackinator): As you speak to Zacarish about the power the Hetats wield you can't help but notice Zacarish's preoccupation with the High Elf. Looking around you see that all of the Vicery that were still inside the dome are now dead, vanquished by the qalm with the two powerful Hetat leading the charge. How do you deal with the after math of the battle and the fatique that now overtakes you as the adrenaline of the fight wears off? You have free reign to speak and interact with the rest of your companions to see how they fare, or perhaps you could speak with Nesrin or the other Hetat to see what the Qalm's next move is. 

Aalrik (Apidude): Looking around from your vantage point you see that all of the Vicery that remained in the dome after its completion are now dead. The combined might of the qalm and the two powerful Hetat were more than the scant group of enemies could deal with. How do you deal with the aftermath of the battle and the fatigue that now overtakes you? You have free reign to speak and interact with the rest of your companions to see how they fare, or perhaps you could speak with Nesrin or the other Hetat to see what the Qalm's next move is. You are however intrigued by the crafting Nesrin produced to make your wall of brambles fire the thorns that were so vicious to the enemy. Perhaps you should ask him about it. Do you take the time to retrieve your arrows? 

Sol (Angel of Blood): As you continue to funnel power into the rising dome you unmistakeably feel when it closes at its zenith. The strain on you lessens as you feel a third Tashiri, more powerful than either you or djinn, take control of the energy that you both are funneling into the crafting. Nesrin approaches were you are standing and with an odd twist of his hand you feel the crafting change and your channel to its working cut off. You sag to the ground, weary and sweating from the effort of building the dome, but you are fearful that without your furies adding their strength the dome may collapse. Quickly looking up you see that this is not the case. It appears that Nesrin has done something to allow the dome to feed off of its own power, no longer needing you to sustain it now that it has been completed. Nesrin puts a hand on your shoulder, and with a nod he walks off to speak with the high elf. You get the distinct impression that he is quite pleased and impressed by your efforts on the dome. Taking a chance to look around you see that the Vicery that had remained inside the dome are now dead and the rest of the qalm is taking a moment to catch their collective breath. How do you deal with the after math of the battle and the fatique that now overtakes you as the adrenaline of the fight wears off? You have free reign to speak and interact with the rest of your companions to see how they fare, or perhaps you could speak with Nesrin or the other Hetat to see what the Qalm's next move is. 

Djinn (djinn24): As you continue to funnel power into the rising dome you unmistakeably feel when it closes at its zenith. The strain on you lessens as you feel a third Tashiri, more powerful than either you or Sol, take control of the energy that you both are funneling into the crafting. Nesrin approaches were you are standing and with an odd twist of his hand you feel the crafting change and your channel to its working cut off. You sag to the ground, weary and sweating from the effort of building the dome, but you are fearful that without your furies adding their strength the dome may collapse. Quickly looking up you see that this is not the case. It appears that Nesrin has done something to allow the dome to feed off of its own power, no longer needing you to sustain it now that it has been completed. Nesrin puts a hand on your shoulder, and with a nod he walks off to speak with the high elf. You get the distinct impression that he is quite pleased and impressed by your efforts on the dome. Taking a chance to look around you see that the Vicery that had remained inside the dome are now dead and the rest of the qalm is taking a moment to catch their collective breath. How do you deal with the after math of the battle and the fatique that now overtakes you as the adrenaline of the fight wears off? You have free reign to speak and interact with the rest of your companions to see how they fare, or perhaps you could speak with Nesrin or the other Hetat to see what the Qalm's next move is. 

Robb (Lord Ramo): Sticking close to Sven you are there when the stalwart dwarf pummels the last of the Vicery enemy into the dust with his warhammer, its head exploding into a shower of dark green gore as the heavy hammer crushes it to the earth. Looking around you see no other targets but you see the devastation the qalm, with the two Hetat at its head, have wrought on the Vicery that had remained inside the dome. cery that had remained inside the dome are now dead and the rest of the qalm is taking a moment to catch their collective breath. How do you deal with the after math of the battle and the fatique that now overtakes you as the adrenaline of the fight wears off? You have free reign to speak and interact with the rest of your companions to see how they fare, or perhaps you could speak with Nesrin or the other Hetat to see what the Qalm's next move is. 

All: After several moments in quiet conversation with the other Hetat, Nesrin calls out to you all, plenty loud enough for you all to hear from where ever you happen to be in the dome, "I am pleased with you younglings. None of us could have imagined the size of that swarm, nor that they would have known of our arrival as soon as they did. You handled yourselves well, and for that I am proud. You didn't flinch away from the fight, and for ones so young and inexperienced you made a good showing of yourselves. We will rest here for the night. The dome will protect us from any assault during the night, so rest as I believe that the assault on the hive will be worse than we previously thought. I suppose that I should make introductions," gesturing the the other Hetat Nesrin continued, "This is Hetat Tianael Aleanatin and it appears that he will be joining us for the night."

Taking a long pipe from an inside pocket of his tunic Nesrin tamped several pinches of tobacco into the bowl. he snapped his fingers and a small flame appeared in mid air over the fragrant weed. Taking a few experimental puffs, and closing his eyes in a brief moment of satisfaction he finished by saying, "lets get some food going as I see to the final details of our defenses." With that he leaves you to your own devices.


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## Midge913

*Sven, Solomon, & Belak*

Sven:
With a bellow of rage Sven brought Avalanche down onto the overbalanced Vicery's head, crushing it to the ground with a satifying squish, grimacing as the sticky dark green vicera ran down over his bare feet and between his toes. With the last foe dead Sven felt an overwhelming fatigue roll through him, and with a wave of his hand he sent Asher back into the earth to rest. Dead Vicery lay everywhere, burned, cut, crushed, pin cushioned with Aalriks heavy oaken arrows. The sight brough a grim smile of satisfaction to his swarthy face. 

Walking back over closer the air carriage, Sven through himself down on the ground on his back, hands pressed into the dry sandy earth, and he felt the quiet power of the earth furies there, easing his tension, and giving him strength. The adrenaline that had built up during the fight quickly fled as the threat had ended and it left his muscles shaky and his nerves on edge. The furies of the earth and Asher's presence calmed that and let him relax. 

Sitting up and propping himself against the carriage, he listened to Nesrin tell them that they would be camping out here for the evening and that they should rest and eat to gain back their strength. Watching his Hetat light his pipe gave Sven an over whelming urge to do the same and, digging through a side pouch he produced his own stem, tobacco pouch, and small flask of Dwarven brandy.

"Oi! Robb!," Sven Called out, "Come have a sippa." He said brandishing the flask,"any man who has my back is entitled to me liquor."

He waited for Robb's response as his mind turned towards dinner. Nothing like a good fight to get the ole' appetitite a running he thought. 
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Solomon:
Completely drained from the healing he had done Solomon collapsed onto one of the padded benches in the air carriage. It was hot inside but at least it was out of the blazing sun and heat of the dome that had been constructed around them. He vaguely heard Nesrin saying something about them camping here for the night under the protection of their defenses and that was enough for him. Almost before his head hit the cushioned end of the bench, sleep took him.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Belak:
Belak felt it as his crafting, the armored flesh that he had pulled around himself failed, and with it the last of his strength. Falling to his knees as his energy left him, he saw out of the corner of his eye a Vicery blade streaking towards his face. Without the energy to lift a blade to defend himself, Belak tried rolled onto his side in an effort to ruin the Vicery's aim and potentially lessen the damage of the strike. But it was not needed. A tendril of living flame encircled the insect and as Belak watched the fire, burning bright enough to hurt his eyes, cut the beast into several pieces as it burned through its carapace in several places with ease. 

Lowering himself to the ground on his side he saw that Vicery bodies littered the ground in the wake of the qalm's countercharge and he was at least satified that the immediate threat had passed.

He felt a presence over him and felt someone roll him onto his back. He felt fingers pressed to his temples and looking up he saw the face of the High Elf Hetat, a mask of calm, and he felt the icy cold of a water crafting pass through him, checking for injury. 

A calming presence sprung into the midst of the adrenaline dump and fatigue that overtook him as the Hetat said in perfect Dark Elvish, "V'dre waelin uss. Usstan tlun Hetat Aleanatin, dos overexert dosstan. Tlu still lu' v'dre, l' xonathull zhah phor whol nin." The sylables rolling of his tongue with ease. 

The cold of a healing rolled through him and with a gasp of breath, he vaguely noted that he had pulled several muscles and dislocated two fingers before his armored form completely enclosed him. 

Belak felt more than saw Hetat Aleanatin retreat away, and with an effort that caused his head to spin he sat up, relieved to see that his companions were all alive and well.


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## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

There was calm at last. Calm and quiet as Adam finally allowed his arm to rest. Seeing that all vicery within the fiery dome his allies had created were dead, he allowed his muscles to relax a little and sank to his knees. **** landed in front of him and approached with concern strong in her thoughts. 

_Are you okay?_ She asked. 

'Don`t worry... I`ll be okay.' He replied, breathing deeply and trying to slow his heartbeats. 

_I will reintegrate then, to lessen the strain on your mind._ **** spread her wings and began to glow softly as her form slowly unravelled into ribbons of teal coloured energy that snaked their way back to the pendant around Adam`s neck. Technically she was a part of the tashiri`s own mind, but the talon shaped jewel acted as the focal point for his power when he unleashed **** as well as his other abilities. 

After a few moments, he hauled himself to his feet and headed back towards the centre where the others had gathered. He took a look around at the carnage and blood strewn remains of their enemies and as his gaze panned about he glanced across the warrior Sol. He remembered their words earlier and a niggling thought formed in his mind. 

'Sol...' He said. 'I believe I owe you an apology...'


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## Angel of Blood

Sol continued to channel the flames and keep the dome intact as the others finished off the Vicery. However, despite how deeply he felt connected to the furies and his abilities now whilst channelling the immense power, the strain was beginning to take its toll on him. He could feel beads of sweat starting to run down from his brow and a light glean covering his bare arms, something that both worried him and intrigued him. Since having learnt to control his abilities and commune with the furies all those year ago, he had learnt to regulate his body temperature to such a degree that he no longer needed to sweat. 

But even as he thought about how the dome was weakening him, seemingly feeding off his strength as it burned, his connection was broken. The vast majority of the furies surging through the dome were instantly cut off from him, although some rushed back to him, never truly abandoning him. As the connection was broken, Sol collapsed to his hands and knees, gasping and heaving into the ground as he did. He pushed himself to his knees, curls of smoke rising off his body as he rapidly cooled his core temperature once again.

He looked up to the domes zenith, fearful that it might have collapsed now he was no longer empowering it. The dome remained in intact though, though no one seemed to be fuelling it, it appeared the dome was feeding off itself in a closed loop.

Standing before him was Nesrin, whom Sol guessed was the one who had cut him off from channelling the dome and enabled it to empower itself. His Hetat looked down at him with an unmistakeable look of approval, placing a hand on his shoulder before moving away to converse with the new Hetat. Pride flushed through him, confident he had impressed his Hetat with that display of his ability. 

Sol gingerly stood up and took a few deep calming breathes. All the Vicery who had been trapped within the dome had been killed by the others, Sol was mildly disappointed he hadn’t killed them himself, but brushed the thought away, reasoning to himself that he had enabled their deaths by trapping them in the first place. 

He approached the dome and was taken in by the beauty of it, it was almost like fire given liquid form, flowing and swirling its way to the top. He reached out to touch it, summoning and sending some of the furies within him to bridge the connection as his hand pressed against the dome. It was solid to touch, like a wall, yet ripples still spread upwards from where he touched it like the surface of a river might. The creation was amazing, he may have aided and completed it, but it was the other Hetat who had engineered its design, he would have to ask him about it. Before he could though Adam approached him and hesitatingly said.


'Sol...' He said. 'I believe I owe you an apology...'

Sol stared at him for a moment, decided whether to make a bitter retort or not. In the end he decided against it.

“Don’t apologise Adam, just keep killing our foes and you will earn it that way.” He paused and looked at the devastation before continuing “We killed many today, you as many as most, but there is still a long way to go. Make sure you remain so committed.”


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## Jackinator

*Isira*

The power of the Hetats was staggeringand Isira turned to speak to Zacarish, but she paused when she saw the look on his face as he gazed, fixated at the High Elf Hetat. She decided to leave him in peace for the time being, looking around the dome of fire and seeing just how much slaughter had been wrought. All of the Vicery were dead, easily slain at the hands of the Qalm once the two Hetats had arrived.

She felt the adrenaline begin to wear off, and as it did she noticed the fatigue, but it wasn't from the adrenaline, she had grown up in a life where you lived on adrenaline. As such the sudden low came as no surprise and her body quickly filtered it out. Or should have done. But it went deeper than that now, a mental fatigue that went on deep into her inner reserves of strength. She would have expected aches and pains from the battle, and a degree of tiredness from the sheer exertion.

Although she made such frequent use of her powers she saw little purpose in not doing so, the scale and frequency of which she had been using her powers, straight from a long flight into battle, had drained her immeasurably. She sank slowly to the ground, lying back against the carriage and shutting her eyes as she tried to recover her strength...


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## Santaire

Zacarish swayed on his feet. He was incredibly fatigued, so much so that it almost seemed as if he must collapse on the spot. An aching weariness permeated his bones and his body screamed for rest. Zacarish’s mind however was still alert, albeit sluggish compared with how fast it had been working during the battle. He felt his gaze drawn to the Elven Hetat. He was helping Belak, Zacarish’s fellow Dark Elf while simultaneously keeping the dome of fire working. It displayed incredible control and power. After a while the Hetat walked to Nesrin and the 2 of them spoke quietly together. As they did so Zacarish cast his eyes about the rest of his Qalm. Everyone was still alive praise the Gods and all injuries were minor, the major ones having been healed by Solomon or one of the Hetat’s.

After a while of talking to the other Hetat Nesrin spoke up. "I am pleased with you younglings. None of us could have imagined the size of that swarm, nor that they would have known of our arrival as soon as they did. You handled yourselves well, and for that I am proud. You didn't flinch away from the fight, and for ones so young and inexperienced you made a good showing of yourselves. We will rest here for the night. The dome will protect us from any assault during the night, so rest as I believe that the assault on the hive will be worse than we previously thought. I suppose that I should make introductions," gesturing at the High Elf Hetat Nesrin continued, "This is Hetat Tianael Aleanatin and it appears that he will be joining us for the night."

After taking a pipe from his pocket, filling it with tobacco and lighting it Nesrin finished with "lets get some food going as I see to the final details of our defences." Zacarish walked unsteadily to the carriages. Inside one of them he saw Solomon asleep on one of the couches. He smiled. The healer deserved the rest. Zacarish lowered himself against the carriage. His head rested on the wall of the carriage and his eyes closed. His muscles relaxed and his breathing slowed as he fell into a deep, untroubled sleep…


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## apidude

*Aalrik - Wood Walker - Wood Elf*

Aalrik slowly let the tension on his bow relax as he scanned the dome for targets that no longer existed. There were no Vicrey left. Between the two Hetat's power and the Qalm's fighting skills, the dome was clear. He unnocked his arrow and slid it into the quiver at his back.

Sighing he felt the tension drain from him as he let go of the furies power that had empowered him. As they left, he staggered and reached with his bow to steady himself.

"By Hleinir, I never knew I could call forth that level of power," he thought. He slid down where he stood until he was sitting, cross legged. He kept his bow strung as he looked around. The Qalm seemed to come through the battle, battered but alive. 

Nesrin's voice seemed to come from a distance. Aalrik numbly turned to listen to him.

He told them that they could rest and that the dome would protect them for the night. He introduced Hetat Tianael Aleanatin and then, lighting a pipe, he turned to the defenses of the dome. 

Aalrik rested a few more minutes then swung down to the ground and began to move between the downed Vicrey retrieving his arrows and wiping them off and returning them to his quiver. 

Robb and Sven were sitting and drinking from a small flask that looked dwarvish. Aalrik chuckled. "Leave it to the dwarf to make this a party." he smiled and walked over to join them. 

"Well, Master Dwarf, you seem well. I suppose that was your granite bear I saw dancing with the Vicery. Is there enoughh of that elixir for a parched elf?"


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## Djinn24

Sitting on the ground, my arm still in it's temporary sling, I lay back against the aircart and for a moment look at the lovely dome, the flame swimming around it's surface. Wanting to speak with the Hetat but absolutely exhausted I close my eyes and meditate, trying to replenish the energies that had been drained in the battle and the raising of the dome. As I find my zenith I feel a calm wash over me. I begin to replay parts of the battle in my mind, with the exception of my broken arm the battle had played out well with what we had been tossed into. I fade into black as slumber comes upon me.


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## Lord Ramo

Robb dropped to one knee, his blade sunk into the last Vicery he had to kill, both hands holding onto the hilt. He was covered in sweat, exhausted from the fighting. He slowly removed his helm, allowing his face and hair to come into full view of everyone as he slowly stood, blade still in his hand as he turned to survey what his Qalm had done to the enemy. He was pleased to see all of his fellows alive, all seemed to have some form of minor injuries but other than that appeared to be unscathed.

He turned to see Sven, the mighty dwarf bury his hammer head into the last alive Vicery before he saw Terros moving over to him. His fury could sense his tiredness, the fight had really taken a number on his stamina. Without a word his fury dissapeared as suddenly as it had appeared, allowing more strength to flow through Robb's veins. 

"I am pleased with you younglings. None of us could have imagined the size of that swarm, nor that they would have known of our arrival as soon as they did. You handled yourselves well, and for that I am proud. You didn't flinch away from the fight, and for ones so young and inexperienced you made a good showing of yourselves. We will rest here for the night. The dome will protect us from any assault during the night, so rest as I believe that the assault on the hive will be worse than we previously thought. I suppose that I should make introductions," gesturing the the other Hetat Nesrin continued, "This is Hetat Tianael Aleanatin and it appears that he will be joining us for the night." 

Robb was about to move forward, and enquire about whether or not they should look out for, or even help the other Tashiri when Sven called out to him. "Oi! Robb!," Sven Called out, "Come have a sippa. Any man who has my back is entitled to me liquor."Robb smiled wolfishly and moved over to the dwarfs side, taking the brandy from his hands and took a swig. It was dwarven brandy, and it burned the side's of his mouth and throat as he felt it treacle down his system. Holding back a cough he spoke to the dwarf,* "A fine old fight we got ourselves into Master Dwarf. Good thing the Qalm had us to hold the line."* A howl of laughter burst from his mouth before he said the last thing, *"I thank you for the fine dwarven drink my friend, and I will join you in a moment."*

Robb moved over to the two hetats, who were reviewing their makeshift defences quickly,* "Excuse me hetats, but surely we should look for our brethren out there in some way."* He said this respectfully as he saluted the two hetats, blade safely in its sheath.


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## Midge913

*Update #11*

Adam (serpion5): After your apology to Sol for the arguement you two had had after the bonding ceremony, he responds by telling you not to apologize, but to earn his respect by continuing to fight the foes of mankind. How do you take this response? He also compliments you on the amount of foes that you dispatched. Perhaps to avoid further conflict with Sol in the future you should get to know him a bit better. It is obvious that although it is only the middle of the afternoon, you and your Qalm will remain under the dome until tomorrow morning, so you have time to converse about what ever you choose to talk about. Other members of your Qalm are also sitting around your new camp ground. Belak, Zacarish, Djinn, and Isira all appear to be asleep against the air carriage, the fatigue of the battle sending them to sleep. Aalrik and Sven are sharing a flask Sven has apparently produced from somewhere. You don't see Solomon, but looking into the air carriage you see the bottom of the set of feet of someone asleep on one of the benches therein. Finally you see Robb speaking to Nesrin, their conversation turning to the massive beast of Earth and stone that stands, impressively, towering over even Nesrin himself. As you decide what to do you stomach rumbles and you realize that you are pretty hungry. The last meal you had was breakfast this morning and the elapsed time and the exertion of the battle has stirred your appetite. Should you wish to make some food you will find that the rear of the air carriage is a storage compartment, dutifully packed by order serfs with a full complement of supplies. 

Sol (Angel of Blood): You watch for Adam's reaction to your response to his apology. Despite your earlier assumption about him the Windwalker made a good accounting of himself during the battle with the Vicery and it is possible that your anger and notions of the man were not as accurate as you may have thought. Perhaps further conflict between the two of you could be forestalled by getting to know each other better. It is obvious that although it is only the middle of the afternoon, you and your Qalm will remain under the dome until tomorrow morning, so you have time to converse about what ever you choose to talk about. Other members of your Qalm are also sitting around your new camp ground. Belak, Zacarish, Djinn, and Isira all appear to be asleep against the air carriage, the fatigue of the battle sending them to sleep. Aalrik and Sven are sharing a flask Sven has apparently produced from somewhere. You don't see Solomon, but looking into the air carriage you see the bottom of the set of feet of someone asleep on one of the benches therein. Finally you see Robb speaking to Nesrin, their conversation turning to the massive beast of Earth and stone that stands, impressively, towering over even Nesrin himself. Finally you see Hetat Aleanatin sitting to the side by himself, hand stroking the odd form of a large cat made of purple and black flame that fought beside him during the battle. He appears to be speaking to it in elvish. Perhaps you could ask him how the dome was created, or perhaps how he wielded fire furies in such a precise and efficient manner. As you decide what to do you stomach rumbles and you realize that you are pretty hungry. The last meal you had was breakfast this morning and the elapsed time and the exertion of the battle has stirred your appetite. Should you wish to make some food you will find that the rear of the air carriage is a storage compartment, dutifully packed by order serfs with a full complement of supplies. 

Zacarish (Santaire): As you sleep you are visited by dreams of your training and your life before your arrival at the temple. Your dreams slowly turn to focus on your father and the pain you feel at his disappointment in your choice to join the Order. Your dreams are interrupted as your stomach growls loudly, bringing you to wakefulness slowly but surely. You see Adam and Sol conversing, and asleep against the carriage near you are Belak, Isira, and Djinn. Solomon still slumbers in the carriage behind you. be asleep against the air carriage, the fatigue of the battle sending them to sleep. Aalrik and Sven are sharing a flask Sven has apparently produced from somewhere. Finally you see Robb speaking to Nesrin, their conversation turning to the massive beast of Earth and stone that stands, impressively, towering over even Nesrin himself. Finally you see Hetat Aleanatin sitting to the side by himself, hand stroking the odd form of a large cat made of purple and black flame that fought beside him during the battle. He appears to be speaking to it in elvish. As you shake the sleep from your mind, you decide that it would be a good idea to make some food. You will find that the rear of the air carriage is a storage compartment, dutifully packed by order serfs with a full complement of supplies. Do you speak to any of the other Tashiri in your group? It would behoove you to get to know them better, especially since the battles ahead are going to be more strenous than even Nesrin on the other Hetat had surmised. 

Isira (Jackinator): With your eyes closed you rest your body, but your meditations are interrupted by the rumble and mumble of voices. You see Adam and Sol conversing, and asleep against the carriage near you are Belak, Isira, and Djinn. Solomon still slumbers in the carriage behind you. be asleep against the air carriage, the fatigue of the battle sending them to sleep. Aalrik and Sven are sharing a flask Sven has apparently produced from somewhere. Finally you see Robb speaking to Nesrin, their conversation turning to the massive beast of Earth and stone that stands, impressively, towering over even Nesrin himself. Finally you see Hetat Aleanatin sitting to the side by himself, hand stroking the odd form of a large cat made of purple and black flame that fought beside him during the battle. He appears to be speaking to it in elvish. As you think about whether or not you want to speak to any of the other Tashiri your stomach growls loudly and you decide that it would be a good idea to make some food. You will find that the rear of the air carriage is a storage compartment, dutifully packed by order serfs with a full complement of supplies. 

Aalrik (Apidude): Sitting across from Sven you share his brandy and listen to his tale about the Dwarven halls of Hardagan. Do you share anything about yourself when he asks? Looking around you see the rest of the Tashiri of your Qalm sitting or standing together in small groups. Belak, Zacarish, Djinn, and Isira all appear to be asleep against the air carriage, the fatigue of the battle sending them to sleep. Adam and Sol are speaking not far away. Solomon is still asleep in the air carriage. Robb isspeaking to Nesrin, their conversation turning to the massive beast of Earth and stone that stands, impressively, towering over even Nesrin himself. Finally you see Hetat Aleanatin sitting to the side by himself, hand stroking the odd form of a large cat made of purple and black flame that fought beside him during the battle. He appears to be speaking to it in elvish. Your stomach growls loudly and you think that it would be a good idea to make some food, especially with the strong Dwarven brandy that you just consumed. You will find that the rear of the air carriage is a storage compartment, dutifully packed by order serfs with a full complement of supplies.

Djinn (djinn24):As you sleep you have dreams of bright flashed of color, energetic music, and swirling and dancing people. Your dreams are interrupted as your stomach growls loudly, bringing you to wakefulness slowly but surely. You see Adam and Sol conversing, and asleep against the carriage near you are Belak, and Isira. Solomon still slumbers in the carriage behind you. be asleep against the air carriage, the fatigue of the battle sending them to sleep. Aalrik and Sven are sharing a flask Sven has apparently produced from somewhere. Finally you see Robb speaking to Nesrin, their conversation turning to the massive beast of Earth and stone that stands, impressively, towering over even Nesrin himself. Finally you see Hetat Aleanatin sitting to the side by himself, hand stroking the odd form of a large cat made of purple and black flame that fought beside him during the battle. He appears to be speaking to it in elvish. As you shake the sleep from your mind, you decide that it would be a good idea to make some food. You will find that the rear of the air carriage is a storage compartment, dutifully packed by order serfs with a full complement of supplies. Do you speak to any of the other Tashiri in your group? It would behoove you to get to know them better, especially since the battles ahead are going to be more strenous than even Nesrin on the other Hetat had surmised. 

Robb (Lord Ramo): As you approach Nesrin and Tianael, you see that both Hetat's are accompanied by large manifested furies. Next to Nesrin stands a massive ape like creature made of earth and stone, its glowing eyes turn to you as you approach. Nesrin chukles slightly at your question, but you can tell by the smile in his eyes that he means no offense "Robb, the other Qalms that accompanied us are just fine. No losses and only healable injuries. I have been in touch with Hetat Rockfist, the leader of the third group, and Hetat Aleanatin is speaking with his charges as we speak. I am not sure how much you know of Water Crafting, but those of us with sufficient strength have the ability to communicate telepathically over great distances. Barring that our furies can carry messages much faster through earth and fire and costs us less energy to accomplish. Each of the other Qalms are behind defenses similar to ours, and we have unanimously decided to wait out the night behind them, as one of the Tashiri Aria of Rockfist's Qalm who is especially sensitive to weather patterns says a wicked sandstorm comes our way as well. So rest easy about your brethren youngling. Go get yourself something to eat and rest. Tomorrow will be another trying day unless I miss my guess." With a pat to the giant apes shoulder Nesrin sent the beast back into the earth, and turned from you to speak in low tones with Aleanatin. Turning back to the party you see Adam and Sol in conversation. Belak, Zacarish, Djinn, and Isira all appear to be asleep against the air carriage, the fatigue of the battle sending them to sleep. Aalrik and Sven are sharing a flask Sven has apparently produced from somewhere. You don't see Solomon, but looking into the air carriage you see the bottom of the set of feet of someone asleep on one of the benches therein. Your stomach growls loudly and you think that it would be a good idea to make some food, especially with the strong Dwarven brandy that you just consumed. You will find that the rear of the air carriage is a storage compartment, dutifully packed by order serfs with a full complement of supplies. Do you speak to any of the other Tashiri in your group? It would behoove you to get to know them better, especially since the battles ahead are going to be more strenous than even Nesrin on the other Hetat had surmised.


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## Midge913

*Sven, Belak, and Solomon*

OOC: Both Belak and Solomon will remain asleep unless one of you wake them and talk to them.
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Sven laughed as Robb walked away, a deep rumble in his chest that caused his ample belly to shake with mirth. He liked the man, quite a bit and in spite of the bond they now shared he could tell that they would become fast friends in the future. He also chuckled at Aalrik. Why shoud it be a party, their was brandy, and a good fight to be had.

He passed his flask to Aalrik saying, "Of course long ears. Though I shouldn't wonder that I will be picking you up off the floor after the first sip. Your delicate stomach and all." He said with a large grin. Aalrik was definitely skilled with his bow, and he seemed personable enough. 

"Though this brew is paltry compared to what I remember of home," Sven said with a sigh. One of the few memories he had of home was of helping his father in their brewery, one of the best in Hardagan, "I remember the heady fumes in the air. The smell of cured oaken barrels, apples and grains, the lingering smell of my father's pipe. That was his you know. He handed it to me the day I was taken by the Tashiri, it is the only object I have of my home. Some day I hope to go back there and see them, to taste my father's brews and enjoy the hospitality of his table once more." He had a hard time keeping up his usual bluster as the fog of memory clouded around him. Taking the flask back from Aalrik and taking a long draught himself he tured to the Elf and asked," What of you Aalrik? Tell me of yourself? What do you remember of your home before?"


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## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

*'Don’t apologize Adam, just keep killing our foes and you will earn it that way.'* Sol responded to Adam`s apology with surprising acceptance. *'We killed many today, you as many as most, but there is still a long way to go. Make sure you remain so committed.' *

Adam nodded slightly at the mention of his deeds that day. Truth be told, he had found it alarmingly easy to end the lives of his vicery opponents. Was it because he was threatened by them or because he thought so little of them? Though the vicery were far from civil, they were still sentient and as capable of feeling pain as any other creature. 

In the past, killing had been necessary but it was always accompanied by guilt or remorse. And yet that was not so this time... 

These thoughts made the young windwalker uncomfortable, so instead Adam sought to distract himself. He looked around the area, noting the locations of the others before turning back to Sol.

'I believe something to eat would be prudent.' He said. 'While we have this chance.' He added. He made his way over to the carriage and opened the rear section where the supplies were located. 

Noting the contents with satisfaction, he withdrew a ration pack for himself before stepping aside to allow another to access the supplies.


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## Jackinator

*Isira*

Isira could hear voices, she was used to sleeping in noisy quarters and while they did not disturb her she couldn't bring herself to rest properly. She opened her eyes again, three others were still asleep against or in the carriage and she did not wish to disturb their slumber. Two humans were talking and her extended senses had picked up their names, Adam and Sol. Sol was mostly a fire mage, but she had seen him flying among the Vicery earlier, he obviously had some differentiation in his powers. Adam she had witnessed more closely, he had moved at a speed even she would have struggled to match, flowing through the Vicery like a whirlwind of blades. He had been accompanied by a hawk, now disappeared that she assumed was a fury.

As she listened he mentioned food to Sol, 'I believe something to eat would be prudent.' He said. 'While we have this chance.' At that she felt a gnawing hunger herself, she had not eaten since breakfast, and although it had been more generous than she was used to the events of the day had drained the energy it had replenished.

She rose gracefully, not so much standing as unfolding vertically, assisted by a little push on the air, an instinctive action, she barely noticed it, and wouldn't have done if she were not already drained. Approaching the rear of the carriage she reached as the man called Adam stepped back from the storage compartment. She smiled hesitantly and speedily plucked a ration pack from the chest, old habits from times when the only food was stolen from market stalls. She turned to Adam and, smiling slightly, introduced herself, "Isira," before continuing, "you fought well today..."


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## Santaire

Zacarish was back at his old home. His father stood before him, teaching him the skills he would need. He was drenched in sweat but would not stop. He wielded the blade as if he was born to do so. He ducked a swing from his brother and lashed out. His practice blade slammed into his sibling’s side, knocking the breath from his lungs. Zacarish danced a dance of death as he weaved in and out of attacks, dodging blows by millimetres before countering. Then all of his surroundings faded into nothing and were replaced by the hallway inside his house. He was standing before his father and behind him was a Tashiri warrior. The world had stopped and Zacarish could feel his father’s disappointment and sorrow at his decision to join the order. Then everything vanished into blackness.

Zacarish awoke slowly. He opened his eyes and stood. He stretched, arching his back before his focus turned back to his current location. He surveyed the interior of the dome. Djinn and Belak lay asleep against the carriage as he had been and Isira was stood talking with Adam. Both were holding food packs and Zacarish walked across to where they stood. He retrieved his share from the storage compartment that had been dutifully packed by serfs of the Tashiri order. He then turned back to Isira and Adam in time to hear the High Elf woman speak, saying “you fought well today…” Zacarish smiled slightly. “That he did,” he said quietly. “But then so did we all. You yourself were no slouch in the fight Isira,” He said, smiling properly. He then turned to Adam. “I believe we have not been properly introduced,” he said with a small grin. “Although we did speak briefly before leaving. Zacarish Militis, wind and air walker at your service,” he continued, a hint of mocking entering his voice at the last part but it was good natured…


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## Lord Ramo

Nesrin chuckled slightly after Robb had finished asking his question, his large ape like fury staring at Robb, boring into him with its huge eyes. Nesrin wasn't trying to offend Robb with his laughter, Robb could tell by the look in his eye. "Robb, the other Qalms that accompanied us are just fine. No losses and only healable injuries. I have been in touch with Hetat Rockfist, the leader of the third group, and Hetat Aleanatin is speaking with his charges as we speak. I am not sure how much you know of Water Crafting, but those of us with sufficient strength have the ability to communicate telepathically over great distances. Barring that our furies can carry messages much faster through earth and fire and costs us less energy to accomplish. Each of the other Qalms are behind defenses similar to ours, and we have unanimously decided to wait out the night behind them, as one of the Tashiri Aria of Rockfist's Qalm who is especially sensitive to weather patterns says a wicked sandstorm comes our way as well. So rest easy about your brethren youngling. Go get yourself something to eat and rest. Tomorrow will be another trying day unless I miss my guess." 

Robb bowed low to Nesrin, thankful that his hetat had been in contact with the others and that all of the Tashiri were safe. "Thank you hetat, I was just worried about our fellow Tashiri, its good to see that we are taking the most sensible route possible before proceeding with the mission." He turned as Nesrin patted his furies shoulder, it dissapearing into the Earth once more. The hetat turned away to converse with his fellow hetat as Robb made his way back to the group.

He was a little worried he had to admit, that his fellow group members hadn't even put thought to the other Tashiri and instead decided to take the time to rest. He knew if they were fatigued then they would be no help, but he couldn't rest while other Tashiri were in danger. Now that he knew they weren't he would be able to eat something, though at the back of his mind questions still popped up about his fellow Tashiri.

He looked around for the group, seeing that most of them were either asleep, resting or stood around the rear of the carriage. That was where the food that the Tashiri serfs had packed. He could see Aalrik and Sven sharing a flask, a smile came to his lips as he thought of the strong dwarven brandy that coursed through his veins. He knew that he could rely on Sven at least to have his back, as demonstrated throughout the day as they stood shoulder to shoulder ripping through the Vicery.

He made his way to the rear of the carriage where the others seemed to be gathering, Adam, Zacarish and the Elven woman stood talking to each other. It appeared that they were complementing each other on their fighting abilities, though Robb couldn't, having only been paying attention to himself and Sven. He squeezed past them nodding to Zacarish and the Elven woman while patting Adam on the back. He grabbed a food pack and a flask of water, taking a great swig from it. "I don't know about you lot, but I feel old after that fight, drained me completely."


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## Angel of Blood

Adam nodded at his words but didn’t say anything more, seemingly lost in thought. He looked at Adam for a moment, feeling a wave of conflict rush into him, radiating from the windwalker. It was as if Adams feelings were bleeding into him, vaguely and weakly, but he felt them as well all the same. He assumed it was a side effect of the binding ritual they had taken part in the previous night. It was a curious feeling, uncomfortable to a degree and would certainly take some time to get used to. He narrowed his eyes at him, wondering at what was causing those feelings.

Adam came out of his reverie, then after looking around suggested that they find some food. He watched Adam leave but lingered at the dome for a few moments longer, still watching the ripples flow around his hand on their way up the structure. He deliberately siphoned away a portion of power that he drew from the furies he kept close at all time to keep his temperature regulated to a perfectly comfortable temperature. The effect was instantly noticeable as the flaming dome began to burn his hand slightly. He could if he wanted to, to never feel the sensation of burning again in his life, kept away at all times by his abilities. But he let the fire burn him every so often, to help remind him that the pure elemental force was never to underestimated and that no one, not even the most skilled Tashiri was totally immune from its devastating potential.

He removed his hand from the dome at last and gazed at his slightly reddened and raw palm, he looked at it curiously for a few more moments before setting off after Adam to the back of the wagon, where he had been joined by Isira, Zacarish and Robb. He arrived just as Robb remarked that the fight had left him feeling old and drained. He pushed past and picked up some fresh fruit. Taking a deep bite into a crisp apple he looked the man up and down then said gruffly

“Perhaps you should sit the next fight out then old man, this was just the precursor to a much larger battle”

He then leaned against the carriage and threw the core of the apple into the air and clicked his fingers, the apple immolating in mid air as he did so.


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## apidude

"Not much to tell, Sven" Aalrik said, taking a long draught of the spicy and firey drink. Sven was right, the stuff was powerful. It burned as it went down. He took a smaller drink and could feel it hitting his stomach. It growled it's protest. 

He squatted next to the sitting dwarf and handed him back the flask.

"My parents were Tashiri intelligence gatherers posing as traders. When I was 5 years old we were returning from a covert mission, traveling in a caravan which was attacked by Vicrey and others of the Troubled. My parents wagon was singled out and before the rest of the caravan could react they were dead, I was gravely injured and the wagon was afire. I really don't remember much myself, but I have talked to others who were in the caravan that night and I believe the caravan was attacked to kill my parents and to keep information they had obtained from reaching the Temple. 

Since they were both gifted Tashiri, Father a Fire Walker and mother a very powerful Wood Walker, I was taken back to the Temple and was raised there by the Tashiri. This was over 60 years ago. 

Most of my memory is of the Tashiri, training and the friends I have made and lost among its ranks."

His stomach growled, the liquor causing him to realize how long it had been since he had eaten. Handing the flask back to Sven, he said, "Are you hungry? I believe that I saw the serfs packing traveling supplies in the carraige." he turned to the carraige and began to rummage in its storage compartments. 

"When did you begin to feel the Call of the Earth, Sven? ...or was it always there?"


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## Midge913

All: As you all stand around the carriage talking you see that Sven has moved to a large open area and has started making a fire. He has procured a cook pot from the rear of the carriage and as he continues to add ingredients and spices into the large pot, you are captivated by the smell of the stew that he is concocting. Outside the dome you can see that the wind is picking up, and the prediction of the Tashiri Aria from Hetat Rockfist's Qalm proves to be accurate as the desert sands swirl and buffet the sides of the dome. Thinking that it would have been very bad to get stuck out in that mess, you all feel a sense of security and comfort inside the dome. 

As he cooks Sven talks about his first experience with Fury crafting and how the talent manifested for him. Though you are all still unsure of each other, Sven's easy manner, the comfort of a shared hot meal, and the bonding that comes from a combat experience start to lessen your trepidation with your companions and you are free to discuss similar stories as Sven tells, or just speak with each other at random about the battle, the coming trial of the Vicery nest, or any other topic that you desire. 

As you all eat the meal you are joined by the two Hetats, who eagerly dig into Sven's delicious stew. After eating his meal, Hetat Aleanatin clears his throat and motions you all to silence. He then begins to speak, his voice melodious and captivating, about the coming challenges that you will face tomorrow.

_"Younglings,"_He begins_," Your performance today was most exceptional. The size of the defensive swarm was several times larger than what we had anticipated, but you perservered and many of the enemy fell today, making our task easier for the morrow. However I must warn you not to become complacent in that regard. The Vicery warriors we fought to day are not the only challenge that we are to face tomorrow. Beasts like the ones you fought today will be the most numerous, but as we assault into the nest itself there are several other forms of Vicery that we will no doubt encounter." Taking a moment to take a large drink of water from his flask, Aleanatin continues. "As we first his the nest we will be engaged with the normal Vicery soldiery, but as we press on the will send their guardian beasts against us. These creatures are heavily armored in their tough carapace and most are roughly the size of a large draught horse. They do not carry weapons as the warriors today did, but their first two legs end in vicious pinchers that can easily crush a man. Against them our best weapons are distraction and strenght. If we encounter them, Tashiri Aria, you will be responsible for maintaininga distraction. Your natural speed and skill far outstrips the Guardians, but your strength is insufficient to penetrate their tough outer shell. It will fall to the Tashiri Terra, to use their enhanced strenght to crush them into oblivion. Tashiri Ignus, the Guardians fear fire, but again their exoskeleton provides them a measure of defense against heat and flame. Add your skills to help give the Earth Walkers an opportunity to strike quickly and decisively."_

Looking around to all of you he continues_," These however are not the true threat inside the nest. Once we breach the lower levels of the hive, growing ever closer to the queens lair, she will send the Broodlings against use. These multi-legged monstrosities look like giant millipeeds, they are incredibly swift, and their mandibles carry a disabiling neurotoxin. They also have large tails tipped in a larged barbed sting that carries a poision that will liquifiy flesh and bone upon its strike. We do not want to engage them in close quarters. Tashiri Aria and Aquos will need to use their skills to immobilize and hold the beasts as Tashiri Flora and Ignus used ranged attacks to deal with this menace. Blade storms are also effective Tashiri Aria so make use of those skills."_

_"Finally the queen herself is somewhat of a mystery as no queen encountered has ever looked the same as the next. Of the few records we have regarding the Vicery queens some have been huge hulking monstrosities, so large that they are defenseless without their minions. Others have been vaguely humanoid, lithe and dangerous. Will shall decide a course of action regarding the queen once we reach that point, but rest assured that either way we will need to bring all of our skills to bear to destroy her. Are there any questions?"_

Hetat Aleanatin's lecture, for he carries an air that intruction comes easily to him, leaves you wondering at your chances of success, but his confidence strengthens your resolve. Feel free to ask any questions you may have of him or of Nesrin. 

Shortly after he finishes, Nesrin stands and streches, saying with a groan of stiff muscles, _"The night comes."_ Indicating the horizon beyond the edge of the dome. The sky is lit up with a brilliant sunset, the sandstorm abated. _"Get some sleep my warriors, we leave for the nest before first light."_


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## Midge913

*Sven, Belak, and Solomon*

Solomon and Belak: 

OOC: I will be making posts for both characters in and amongst your posts. Letting them interact with you all. 
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Sven:
_"When did you begin to feel the Call of the Earth, Sven? ...or was it always there?"_ Aalrik asked. 

Sven stood and made his way over to the Carriage and procured some supplies as he thought on Aalrik's question. Moveing over the an open area near the carriage, Sven knelt down to the ground, placed his palm upon the parthed earth, and with a moment of concentration caused a small stone ring to form up out of the earth. Using flint and tinder he got a fire going and turning to Aalrik he said, "It is not much of a story I am afraid, but come 'ere long ears, cut these taters, and I will tell you of it." 

Sven went about setting up a pot, filling it will some water from a flask and some spices from the supply pack, he toppled some carrots, and tubers into the bot to soften as the water heated over the flames. " I was a young lad, in Hardagan. My father of course a master smith and brewer, his works and ales were much desired by the population there. I was fresh from a day of delivering ales and brandys to the local inns, and my pockets were full of coin." Sven's swarthy hands made quick work of cubing up some salted venison that he uncermoniosly dumped into the pot. "Well it was a getting on nightfall, when I crossed paths with an unsavory lot of men who thought to rob me of my father's earnings. We I wasn't much older than 6 seasons, though large for a dwarf my age, I ran down an alley, rounded a corner, and leaned against a wall in the shadows, hoping they wouldn't find me. Much to my surprise the group ran right by me, never seeing me though I feared that I would be set on. I ''meber that I looked down and almost yelled out in surprise as I seen that I had a melted into the wall itself. Completely hidden and safe from a pryin' eye. Kept it to meself I did. not really ken to what 'ad happened. Over the next two seasons other odd things happened. I lefted a carriage off me cousins leg when it fell on him. I was 8 when that happened. Not long after that the Tashiri came for me." Sven finished with a snort, "Life 'as ne'er been the same since. Now dump them taters in the pot."


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## Serpion5

As Adam stepped aside from the carriage, he noticed the presence of Isira approaching. She took some food from the storage section before turning to him. 

*'Isira.'* She introduced herself to him, despite the fact that he had gleaned almost everyone`s name during the bonding ritual and the short time afterward. *'You fought well today.'* 

'Ah well...' Adam began, but was interrupted by Zacarish.

*'That he did. But then so did we all. You yourself were no slouch in the fight Isira.'* He congratulated her with a smile. He then turned to Adam.

*'I believe we have not been properly introduced. Although we did speak briefly before leaving. Zacarish Militis, wind and air walker at your service.'* He smiled as he introduced himself and Adam felt the humour in his voice. 

'So I saw.' He replied. 'And you`re no pushover yourself. I fact I`m honoured to have been able to fight alongside you all. Really.' 

It was pandering to their egos, and though it may have had a slight trace of transparency to it there was no doubt that it was the truth. It was in his own as well as their best interests to be at ease with one another, and promoting familiarity and kinship was the best way to go about it. 

A slap on his back signalled the arrival of Robb as he pushed past and remarked on feeling older after that fight. He was followed moments later by Sol, who joked that Robb should sit out the next fight. 

_This is going well._ Adam thought to himself. _We fought well as individuals, but like Nesrin said, we`ll need to become more fluent at teamwork and tag actions and such._

_Then you`d best stop daydreaming and focus._ ****`s voice slapped him mentally, prompting him to return his focus to the group.


* * *​
Sven had cooked a stew near the center of the dome, prompting some of the qualm to migrate there and listen to his story of taming a fury for the first time. It was intriguing, but on the whole not so farfetched to one such as Adam who had successfully tamed a fury spirit of his own. 

_I dislike that term._ **** interrupted his thoughts. _I joined you of my own free will._ 

_Sure._ Adam laughed. _So me having to fight against you and prove my abilities superior to your own was merely a formality i suppose?_ 

_It was to prove that you were a worthy master._ She snapped back. Adam left it at that as she receded back to the depths of his psyche. Though he knew she spoke the truth, he still enjoyed baiting her with taunts on occasion as he would any of his childhood friends. 

Not that any of them were left... 

After a short while, the Hetat named Aleanatin arrived with Nesrin. After they had both eaten, Aleanatin proceeded to give them all a speech, part briefing and part lecture, on the nature of their foe and the task that lay ahead. Following this, Nesrin bade them all to rest as the night had come. Adam had no questions to ask, having no reason to question the wisdom of his superiors in this regard. 

Despite his exhaustion, sleep did not come easy, and for some time he tossed and turned where he lay a short distance from the others. He wondered if anyone else was having the same problem...


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## Santaire

Zacarish finished the ration pack in is hands and sat with his back against the carriage and began to fall once again into a deep sleep but it would not come. He frowned slightly but then the voice of Hetat Aleanatin broke through his reverie and he looked up. The High Elf Tashiri began with "Younglings, your performance today was most exceptional. The size of the defensive swarm was several times larger than what we had anticipated, but you persevered and many of the enemy fell today, making our task easier for the morrow. However I must warn you not to become complacent in that regard. The Vicery warriors we fought to day are not the only challenge that we are to face tomorrow. Beasts like the ones you fought today will be the most numerous, but as we assault into the nest itself there are several other forms of Vicery that we will no doubt encounter." 

Taking a moment to take a large drink of water from his flask, Aleanatin continued. "As we first enter the nest we will be engaged with the normal Vicery soldiery, but as we press on the will send their guardian beasts against us. These creatures are heavily armoured in their tough carapace and most are roughly the size of a large draught horse. They do not carry weapons as the warriors today did, but their first two legs end in vicious pinchers that can easily crush a man. Against them our best weapons are distraction and strength. If we encounter them, Tashiri Aria, you will be responsible for maintaining distraction. Your natural speed and skill far outstrips the Guardians, but your strength is insufficient to penetrate their tough outer shell. It will fall to the Tashiri Terra, to use their enhanced strength to crush them into oblivion. Tashiri Ignus, the Guardians fear fire, but again their exoskeleton provides them a measure of defence against heat and flame. Add your skills to help give the Earth Walkers an opportunity to strike quickly and decisively."

Looking around to all of the Tashiri gathered there he continued saying, "These however are not the true threat inside the nest. Once we breach the lower levels of the hive, growing ever closer to the queen’s lair, she will send the Broodlings against use. These multi-legged monstrosities look like giant millipedes, they are incredibly swift, and their mandibles carry a disabling neurotoxin. They also have large tails tipped in a large barbed sting that carries a poison that will liquefy flesh and bone upon its strike. We do not want to engage them in close quarters. Tashiri Aria and Aquos will need to use their skills to immobilize and hold the beasts as Tashiri Flora and Ignus used ranged attacks to deal with this menace. Blade storms are also effective Tashiri Aria so make use of those skills."

"Finally the queen herself is somewhat of a mystery as no queen encountered has ever looked the same as the next. Of the few records we have regarding the Vicery queens some have been huge hulking monstrosities, so large that they are defenceless without their minions. Others have been vaguely humanoid, lithe and dangerous. We shall decide a course of action regarding the queen once we reach that point, but rest assured that either way we will need to bring all of our skills to bear to destroy her. Are there any questions?"

Zacarish stayed silent. After Nesrin had spoken and the Hetat’s had turned to seek the council of each other he leaned back against the carriage and closed his eyes. Despite the weariness permeating every centimetre of his body his mind was still pumping with adrenaline, refusing to allow him a moment’s respite. He opened his eyes and surveyed the members of his Qalm. Most sat and talked around the fire, some were asleep although Zacarish noticed Adam, though trying to sleep was evidently not able too. He spoke softly, so softly that only the wind walker could hear him. “Can’t sleep?” he asked quietly.


----------



## apidude

Aalrik listened while the Nesrin spoke, then pulled arrows from his quiver and began to inspect the fletchings to ensure that they would be solid for the next day. 
"Sounds like tomorrow will be a bit tense." he thought. "I wonder what wood / plant life will be available for me to use. Probably not a lot, if we will be underground. Wonder if Barkskin will be useful or if the loss of mobility would be more than the protection it offers."
Sven will be in his element. I think that I will shadow him and back him up. Keeping him able to use his gift will be crucial."
"Hey, Sven, bring along your rock bear tomorrow. He may have fun." Aalrik called.


----------



## Jackinator

*Isira*

Isira frowned as Adam turned away, his comments had seemed almost like a mere stroking to their egos, but then, what he said was true. He had made no effort to disguise it though, and he knew that they would perhaps see through it. She knew she should be glad at the compliment, but that hidden message scratched insistently at her.

She dismissed it and turned back to the group at the fire, Sven had begun to fill a cookpot with a variety of spices and ingredients, and from it a delicious aroma was rising. She paused, then shook her head and walked over to join them, taking a bowl and going over to sit in the shadows of the carriage. She hunched forward over the stew, wolfing it down with little grace but evident enjoyment.

She listened to the Hetat's speech, seeing the rest of the group in the almost ghostly illumination provided by the fire. When the Hetat finished she walked forward and rejoined the group. "If these are tunnels, how big are they, will there be enough space for us Tashiri Aria to use our speed properly?"


----------



## Lord Ramo

Robb looked over at the hetats who explained what they would encounter in the hive, the types of warriors they would face, and that of the queen. The mysterious queen who could look like anything. Robb nodded as they spoke thoughts racing through his mind as he stored all of the information, tucked away in the corners of his mind. He stayed quiet as they spoke, his questions being answered as the hetats continued. Tomorrow was going to be a challenging day for the group tomorrow. They would have to work well together to survive.

Luckily Robb could work well with Sven, and he made his way to his side where all the others seemed to have gathered due to him cooking. He sat by Sven, eating away at his own meal while looking round at his fellow Tashiri. Like it or not, they were a group now, a squad. They would each have to do better to fight as a team, not a team of individuals.

Robb finished his meal and turned as the hetat told him to get some sleep, something Robb was happy to do. He moved a little away from the group, his cloak spread around him, and his weapons next to him. He let the silky black night take him as he drifted into a light sleep.


----------



## Serpion5

*'Can`t sleep?'* A familiar voice carried on a small zephyr reached Adam`s ears. Turning over on the ground, Adam noticed Zacarish looking back at him, the fellow windwalker apparently unable to sleep as well. He was propped up against the carriage. Adam sat upright and nodded in reply. 

'Aye, the tension refuses to leave me.' He whispered back, allowing the air to carry his words as Zac had done. 'By all rights, I should be exhausted. And I am, yet my mind and my body refuse to sleep. Some people are just like this I`m told, but I don`t want to slow the group down because of fatigue.' 

He paused momentarily. Then a new thought occurred. 

'For that matter, what use would **** be in this environment? And myself? Confined spaces will put me at a disadvantage. I cannot use my speed in such a place, and I cannot release **** to fly...'


----------



## Santaire

Zacarish nodded, he understood of what Adam spoke. One of the members of his training group had suffered from the same problem and it had been his end. Zacarish banished the memory and waited for Adam to finish. As the windwalker trailed off Zacarish began to speak "As the Hetat said, you will need to use your speed to help defeat the creatures and if that is the case I have no doubt the tunnels will be more than large enough for us to fight in. I would be surprised if it was otherwise. Returning to your earlier words you are not the only one who suffers from it, just be careful to keep your guard up no matter what." He paused for a moment before continuing with "I have seen one too many warriors fall into that trap, I have no wish to see another do so." He smiled slightly. "Do not be concerned Adam, I would give my life to save the members of our Qalm, including you..."


----------



## Midge913

*Update #12*

All: Turning his almost unblinking gaze in Isira's direction, Hetat Aleanatin answers her question but projects his words far enought that Adam and Zacarish can also hear his reply. Obviously his fury enhanced hearing has garnered that the other windwalker's in the group are all concerned about the lack of space in the tunnels. _" I am sure that there will be tunnels that will be fairly cramped, but those will be lower down in the nest, closest to the queens chambers. In the last hive that we were able to assault it was that way. A majority of the tunnels however will be quite large, large enought to handle two to three of the Guardian beasts abreast, so you should have no problems making full use of your abilities there."_

Glancing over to Nesrin and giving him a slight nod,_" I am also sure that the plan will be, as it has been in other assaults, for the strongest Earthwalkers to assist in widening and suring the tunnels when they grow too cramped." _

Nesrin nods in agreement, speaking around his pipe, and allowing thin streams of the fragrant smoke to curl up around his head, _"Indeed it is old friend."_ A slight smile playing around his lips as if he was remembering something long since gone. _"This is why it is incredibly important for us to work together younglings. We must bring multiple disciplines of Fury Craft to bear to win the day. Now As I said finish your meals and catch some shut eye. You are going to need your strength. "_

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

All: YOu all manage to finally get to sleep and due to the protections of the dome and the pounding weather outside of it, your sleep goes untroubled and uninterrupted. As you all wake and rose yourselves, you find that the protective dome has begun to lower and that Hetat Aleanatin is no where to be seen, most likely gone to rejoin his own Qalm. 

Nesrin sits by the fire, that he has obviously stoked back to life by either fury craft or good old fashioned means and he sits with a tray on his lap. His waterskin sits on the tray and you can see that he is obviously concentrating very hard on whatever it is that sits on the tray. Should you approach he will hold up a hand indicating that he would like for you to remain silent and as you draw near you can see that slowly, a perfect sphere of water, about the size of a marble, coalesces at the mouth of the skin and floats up into the air in front of Nesrin's face. All of you present can feel the fury craft at work and you surmise, based on the fact that you can all feel some aspect of what he is doing, that he is once again employing multiple elements in this crafting. Inside the small sphere of water orange light flares to life suddenly and almost as soon as it does that light is replaced by sudden pulse of sound that reverberates throught the earth at your feet. Finally the outside of the sphere freezes solid and the sphere decends to join a pile of identical spheres on the corner of Nesrin's makeshift desk. 

Nesrin sighs a contented sigh, obviously pleased with his work, and opens his eyes to look at all of you. He stands and distributes one of the odd marbles to each of you and as it falls in your hand it is very cold to the touch. _ "Keep this with you," _Nesrin says, ]_"Should you find yourself fatigued to the point of exhaustion, or suffering from multiple small injuries, pop that in your mouth and you will find yourself renewed. Mind it won't heal serious injuries, but it will put you back into the fight, with the energy to continue." _

What are your thoughts on this gift of Nesrin's? (OOC: If at some point in the next couple of posts you plan on using the marble, PM me and I will let you know how it will effect you at that time.)

_"Now go younglings, though I doubt that term will apply after the next 48 hours, pack up our belongings and make ready to depart."_

What are your characters feeling and thinking? Are they even more nervous about the battle ahead, especially given what Hetat Aleanatin indicated regarding the foes you will be facing? (OOC: I am liking the character interaction between you all and would love to see that increase.) What do you have to say ifanything to your fellows?

As you watch the dome completely collapse, you see several Tashiri Aria from the other Qalms alight next to the air carriage, and once again Nesrin orders those capable of flight to join him as he tells the rest of you to mount up in the air carriage. After you are all settled and where you are told to be the carriage and the Qalms all take to the skies once more, this time however the speed of your flight is lessened. Looking out the window you are taken back by the fact that you cannot see any of the other Tashiri or air carriages flying around you. Adam can sense that multiple Tashiri Aria are using veils, bending the light to make the carriages, their occupants, and the other flying Tashiri invisible ot the naked eye. Obviously the Hetats don't want to be caught out in the open again. Those of you flying with Nesrin can feel the crafting he makes quite clearly and see the same thing as those in the carriage, just from a different view point. Again for those of you flying, even though you cannot see your fellows, you can feel quite clearly where they are both through the bond and by the furies that they are employing to maintain their flight. 

As you watch the ground below the carriages pass by, you see that you are approaching an area of the desert that is filled with dunes and changes in the topography, and shortly there after your air carriage sets down in the shade of one of the larger dunes. Those of you in the carriage disembark and watch the Tashiri Aria that had been bearing your carriage fly off towards different dunes, disappearing from view seconds after they leave the ground. Behind you, you hear the sound of multiple people landing on the sandy ground and you see the impressions of their feet before they wink into view as Nesrin drops the veil. (OOC: For the flying group you see the same just in reverse, and you are the ones leaving the foot prints)

As he appears in veiw Nesrin unlimbers his axe, causing you all to check your weapons and ready them for the fight that obviously is to come. _ "Just over the side of this dune is an entrance to the hive. Tashiri Aria and Terra, reach out with your furies and see of you can feel the marker left by the scouts." _ As you do those of you who are attune to Wind furies feel what he was talking about. A slow steady pulse of buffeting air, something you wouldn't have even noticed as out of the ordinary should you not have been looking for it, but you can tell that this pulse would have been easily felt all the way back to the edge of the desert and perhaps even further. _"The other Qalms are going to assail the other two entrances and work their way down the hive, just as we are, to the queen's chamber located at the bottom. I would love for us to claim the honor of killing the queen, so move quickly, strike viciously and surely, and spare no thought for these creatures whether adults or young. They would not spare one for you."_Nesrin finishes in almost a snarl that takes you by surprise. 

As if hearing an inaudible signal Nesrin raises his hand and says,_ "To arms! Follow me."_ And he rushes around the side of the dune, heading directly to the place where you felt the beacon. As you follow him you do in fact see the entrance to the hive, a raised tunnel that slopes down, underground, and out of view. There are somewhere around 60 Vicery Warriors, some looking injured and the worse for wear, obviously survivors of the battle yesterday, guarding the entrance. Refreshed and rested from your nights sleep, and spurred on by Nesrin's presence, you leap into the fight, crashing into the surprised enemy like a battering ram. You all have plenty of room to operate so make use of all of your abilities, be creative in the use of your powers, and you can deal with 5-6 of the Vicery in this post. 

(OOC: Angel of Blood and Djinn I would love for you to deal with last weeks update as well as this one, but obviously this update is more important so if you are short on time deal with the battle stuff over the other. I will be adding posts for Belak, Solomon, and Sven over the course of the week.)


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

Following Nesrin`s reassurances, Adam was able to procure some form of sleep. Though it was fitful and light at best it was still well needed rest and he was immediately grateful for the rejuvenation the next morning when his eyes shot open. 

He immediately noticed that the dome had begun to recede and Nesrin was alone by the fire. Aleanatin had presumably rejoined his own qualm and so Adam approached Nesrin and greeted him with a simple nod. The hetat was so clearly focussed on his task that he barely registered Adam`s presence. Taking the hint, Adam retreated a short distance and watched with interest, all the while keeping his senses alert to try and ascertain exactly what the older tashiri was trying to accomplish. 

It was only after a few moments that Adam noticed the small pile of what looked like marbles at the side of where Nesrin was working. the tray in his lap was wobbling slightly but nothing was lost as he shaped another of these spheres from the water he had. There was wind walking at play, that much Adam could sense, but there was also the hint of other fury arts that he was less able to recognize. Some sort of energy was imbued into the sphere and it floated down to rejoin the others. Only now did Nesrin meet Adam`s gaze with a smile. Clearly he was proud of this accomplishment and Adam was suitably impressed. If it was a source of pride for the older man then it must be quite the feat given his ability. 

Nesrin looked around as well and only now did Adam realize that others had begun to stir and awaken. Pausing only long enough for a brief acknowledgement Nesrin then continued to create several more of these small marbles. 

When at last he had finished, he gave one of them to each of the tashiri present and explained what they were for. *'Keep this with you. Should you find yourself fatigued to the point of exhaustion, or suffering from multiple small injuries, pop that in your mouth and you will find yourself renewed. Mind it won't heal serious injuries, but it will put you back into the fight with the energy to continue.' *

'You have my thanks Nesrin.' Adam responded. The marble was very cold to the touch and he placed it in the small locket he had hanging beside his fury pendant. Adam was indeed grateful for the gift, but at the same time wondered what had prompted Nesrin to do this now rather than sooner? 

_Perhaps he overestimated us earlier and now has seen how fallible we are._ Adam thought. _He`s given us these because we proved weaker than he`d been hoping for._

It was not a comforting thought to think what they`d just faced was a shadow of what was to come. Trepidation began to take hold as Nesrin issued the command to depart...


----------



## Midge913

*Solomon Lok*

Solomon's sleep was fitful, filled with phantom pains and screams. Burning fire, a house on fire, his parents screaming. 

Once again he was 15 years old and once more he was forced to relive that horrible day. He stood beside the stream, pail in hand, face screwed up in over-exaggerated concentration. He could feel the presence of the furies in the stream, proud that he had such strength. He had already healed his father's arm, broken when a wagon he had been repairing fell upon it. It was a clean break, but still an astonishing feat for one so young to heal it on instinct, without instruction. A slow smile played across his face as he remembered his mother's tear stained face beaming with pride. 

He set his concentration back to the stream before him, willing the furies to do his bidding. Slowly but surely a wrist thick column of water emerged from the surface of the stream. It wavered and pulsed, only just barely controlled with his inexperienced will. With a cry of effort Solomon forced the water to arc into the bucket at his feet and he collapsed on his back beside the flowing brook. Exhausted to his core, quickly sleep took him. It was then that Solomon felt the dream change. 

He stood outside of himself, looking down at his carefree younger self, passed out next to the stream that held such significance to him and his family in years gone by. His dream self turned to the west, towards the direction of his home, and, as he had seen so many times before, saw the thick column of smoke raising into the pale blue sky. He felt the fear that he always felt, the trepidation at what his younger form would find upon returning home. The horrific knowledge that would soon rock him to the core once more. He watched as the boy who he had once beens nostrils flared in his sleep, the scent of smoke rousing the child from his exhausted slumber. He followed the boys gaze as it scanned the horizon and spotted the smoke, roiling into the sky from a mere quarter mile away. The boy, the embodiment of childhood akwardness, took off running streaking across the countryside in a way that reinforced the fact that this was a dream. In a matter of seconds, the boy and his elder shade, arrived in front of his home, the structure consumed in flames, and just inside, visibile through a broken and twisted window, the charred skeletons of his parents. The child screamed, a wail of anguish and pain that startled Solomon to wakefulness.

For a moment he was disoriented, it was dark, the moon and the stars blocked from sight by the ceiling of a carriage. The memories slowly faded back, the battle, Vicery everywhere, fear, blood, and sweat. He could still feel Adam and Zacarish's pain, lingering tenderness on his forehead and leg. It was always like this for him. He had always been told by his masters that his strength as a waterwalker left him more susceptible to the emotional backlash of a healing, more sensitive to the constant roil of emotions of others. Through the bond, one that he felt more strongly than any other in his Qalm, Solomon could feel trepidation and anxiety. He slowly lifted his head, still to exhausted to sit up or leave the carriage and heard someone speaking of their task on the morrow. From the sound of things assaulting the hive would be worse than the ambushed they had just barely survived. He focused on what the elf, his melodiously resonant voice carrying easily to the carriage where Solomon lay, was saying about the Guardian beasts and Broodlings. He could feel sleep encroaching upon him again, and once again blackness took him, this time, thankfully, untroubled be recurring dreams of old. 

***​ 
The blinding light of the rising sun, filtering through the carriage window woke him, and Solomon sat up inside the carriage, neck stiff and shoulders sore. With a stretch and a groan, he sent the water furies inside his own bodies streaking around the sore and stiff spots, loosening muscles, and realigning bones to their proper position. Standing, still slightly woozy from the healings he had performed, and lack of food, he exited the carriage and saw Nesrin and Adam sitting around the fire that had been stoked back into life. 

As he approached he stopped cold as he caught sight of Nesrin, working diligently on the strange marble that floated in front of him. The power of the water crafting involved alone startled him. He could tell through the bond that Adam was similarly impressed and surmised that at least Wind walking was also involved in the creation of this strange object. Spurring himself back into motion, Solomon quietly sat across the fire from his Hetat and vaguely noted that the other Hetat was no where to be seen. Focusing his attention back on what Nesrin was doing he tried, mostly in vain, to comprehend the way the man was blending the multiple disciplines of the Tashiri into one crafting. The complexity of it was astounding. 

Soon he and Adam were joined by the others who shook sorenes from their muscles and rubbed sleep from their eyes. Quietly, one by one, the Qalm awoke and gathered around their leader, and watched as with a sigh he opened his eyes and the odd sphere he had been creating joined a pile of identical ones laying next to him. He took them all in with a fatherly smile and seeing their inquisitive looks, rose and handed each one of them one of the strange marbles. Solomon almost shrieked in surprised as the freezing surface of the sphere touched down in his palm. As he distributed Nesrin said, _"Keep this with you. Should you find yourself fatigued to the point of exhaustion, or suffering from multiple small injuries, pop that in your mouth and you will find yourself renewed. Mind it won't heal serious injuries, but it will put you back into the fight, with the energy to continue."_

Noddin graciously to Nesrin to indicate his thanks Solomon put the marble into one of his pouches, where he could feel the powerful crafting radiating with cool clarity. He stood very near Adam and his head throbbed a bit as his eyes flicked to the spot on the man's head were Solomon had healed the pretty nasty gash received during the fight, and his hand unconsciously brushed the spot with the tips of his fingers, his mind expecting to find a wound there from the way it felt. He could feel uncertainty radiating from the man, and he could feel that feeling mirrored inside himself. 

Turning to the Wind Walker he said, voice gruff and gravely, "How's the head Adam? Any lasting effects from the healing? That can happen sometimes, nausea and lighheadedness are common side effects."


----------



## Santaire

Zacarish lay back and then simply stared up through the protective dome. Even through the curtain of fire that sealed them off from the outside world he could tell that the stars were beautiful. At his home fog had often covered the mountains although the few moments where it vanished the view could be beautiful, especially from the mountain tops where Zacarish had often found himself. His was a tale of loneliness, of individuality. He had learned to trust only himself completely, as he had no doubt Belak had. Life in Hardagan did that to a person. Of all the fortress countries it was the most terrible. The Dark Lands constantly vomited forth creatures to pound their walls. Only Opun could compare to the horror constantly suffered by the inhabitants of Hardagan. The life of a Dark Elf is long, as are their memories. Even Zacarish could remember the horror when his home was attacked and the fear when his father left to assist the defenders.

Despite this he had always felt a certain calm in his home. He often used to rescind the priveliges of being the son of a powerful warrior. He would lie on his back and gaze up at the night stars as he was doing now. Life was hard for him, expectations were high and he struggled to meet them. People looking for a fight would seek him out and challenge him. He lost the belief he had carried for so long, a belief that despite everything good remained in the hearts of everyone. He had become withdrawn and after a drunken man challenged him and ended up with a broken leg and snapped wrist he had been left alone.

His eyes closed slowly as his mind finally succumbed to the pleas of his wearied body. His was a deep but troubled sleep. Again his mind returned to his life in Hardagan…
___________________________________________________________

Zacarish walked the streets of his home town. A man staggered out of a doorway ahead of him. Zacarish ignored him for a drunkard but froze when a dagger was pressed against his ribs. His hand flashed downwards and knocked the blade away. He backhanded the man and kicked him in the face. He had always been agile and he used that now. He turned a backwards flip, his foot snaking out and slamming into the man’s chin, lifting him off his feet. Zacarish landed on his feet and turned to run but a strong hand grabbed him. He halted and turned, swinging a fist at his new attacker. A dagger plunged towards his heart and suddenly time seemed to slow. Zacarish could see the blade moving but for the first time he could also see that it was made up of many tiny segments.

He reached out to them with his mind and touched them with his palm. The physical contact brought on a whole world of information but he ignored it and focused on the particles. They broke up and suddenly time returned to its normal speed. The dagger and shattered and the blunt end bounced off Zacarish’s chest. He smiled and slammed an open palm into the man’s face. His nose shattered and the man staggered backwards. Zacarish hammered a blow into the side of his ribs and he fell. Zacarish turned and left, walking to his house’s garden where he lay on his back and gazed up at the stars with a slight smile on his face.

This was where his father found him…
___________________________________________________________

Zacarish awoke to the sight of Nesrin creating a marble sized ball. Despite the fact that he had little affinity for the crafts involved he could still sense the furies being used. The ground pulsed beneath him as Nesrin finished him and he surmised this was what had woken him from his sleep. Nesrin sighed contentedly as he finished and dropped the ball into a tray containing roughly a dozen such others. He handed them out. Zacarish accepted his and held it in finger and thumb. Nesrin explained its purpose and Zacarish nodded. He took the locket given to him by his mother when he left and opened it. He smiled briefly to see the image of his parents and slipped the marble into the locket. He closed it and slipped it back beneath his shirt where it rested against his skin.

Once he had done so he looked around. The whole Qalm had roused themselves and were accepting the marble sized balls from Nesrin. Once they had all done so the Dome completed its collapse and Zacarish could see the Tashiri Aria of the other Qalms begin to bend light around them, causing everyone and everything within the veil to be invisible to the naked eye. Zacarish joined Nesrin in the sky along with Isira and Sol. He nodded to each of them in turn before flying after Nesrin. Soon he could not see anyone but he focused on the impulse link and used it to follow Nesrin. When they swooped to a halt in the cover of a nearby dune he came down and landed in a skid. It must be disconcerting for the others he mused, disembodied marks in the sand but then Nesrin dropped the veil and they were visible once more.

As he appeared Nesrin unlimbered his axe, causing all of them to check their weapons and ready them for the fight that obviously was to come. "Just over the side of this dune is an entrance to the hive. Tashiri Aria and Terra, reach out with your furies and see of you can feel the marker left by the scouts. The other Qalms are going to assail the other two entrances and work their way down the hive, just as we are, to the queen's chamber located at the bottom. I would love for us to claim the honour of killing the queen, so move quickly, strike viciously and surely, and spare no thought for these creatures whether adults or young. They would not spare one for you."Nesrin finished almost with a snarl that took Zacarish by surprise.

Suddenly Nesrin stiffened and he called “To arms. Follow me!” He rushed to the location of the pulsing beacon and Zacarish saw the entrance to the hive. It was guarded and Zacarish slid his long blade from its scabbard. He held it high as they charged, the tip aimed at the heart of a Vicery. They hit like the hammer of an enormous God and Zacarish went into action. His blade pierced the hardened carapace of his first target and he slammed his foot into its chest, knocking the corpse off his blade to entangle another of the winged creatures.

He used a swift burst of flight to help him perform a back flip over the blade of a Vicery. He landed lightly on the sword and kicked the Vicery in the face. Suddenly he was a blur of motion, his actual movements only visible to a Tashiri Aria using his or her abilities. He rammed his sword into the Vicery’s head. He pushed forward and the Vicery’s body fell backwards. The blade protruded from the back of its head and punched into the heart of another Vicery. Leaving the sword in them Zacarish formed 2 shields of air on his arms. In his hands they proved capable weapons as he slammed the hardened air into the throat of a Vicery. He focussed and his leaf blades orbited around his head.

A Vicery darted forward and ended up with one of the blades stuck in its eye while another found its blow parried by one of the orbiting blades. Another Vicery came at him. Its shell was covered in solid metal and Zacarish smiled beneath his helmet. He dropped the shields of air and slammed both palms into the metal. It shattered at his touch, leaving the Vicery unprotected save for its natural chitin. Zacarish blocked its sword blows, his every touch causing the metal to rust and snap. He drew his dagger and with a flick of his wrist the blade was lodged inside the Vicery’s chest. It made what might have been a laugh and Zacarish touched the hilt of the blade lightly while at the same time focussing his metal storm. The dagger flew forwards and tore through the Vicery’s back in a spray of blood. Zacarish recalled it to his hand and his leaf blades slid into their pouches. He concentrated on his sword and held his hand out.

He focussed and twisted his hand before beginning to slowly bring it towards his chest. His sword moved with it and then Zacarish suddenly pulled is hand all the way into his chest and the sword flew to him. He caught it by the hilt before using a little gust of wind to propel him backwards so that he joined Adam in his fight. He raised his blade as the Vicery came at him and then the dance of death began…


----------



## Lord Ramo

Robb slept well under the protective dome that encased the small group of Tashiri, awaking early the next day. He slowly got up and looked around, noticing that the Elven Hetat was missing, and the dome was beginning to dissapear. Robb saw Nesrin by the fire, obviously concentrating very hard on something as he saw Adam and Zacarish keeping their distance from him for the moment. Robb headed to the carriage, grabbing a flask of water. He took a large gulp from it before splashing a bit on his face to wake him.

The cool water helped to wipe the rest of the sleep from his eyes, and he started to get ready, pulling on his armour and helm before buckling Fang back to his side. He finished as Nesrin finished what he was doing, the other Tashiri up by this time as well. He headed over to Nesrin who handed each of the Qualm a small sphere. Obviously Nesrin had crafted these, and he informed them that they would give them strength, or heal minor wounds if they needed them. Robb nodded his head in gratitude before heading over to stand by Sven.

"Well master dwarf, into the nests we descend. Luckily your dwarven brew seems to have left my system, or I would be entirely useless in the coming fight." He joked briefly before heading to the carriage. The group headed off, the ones that couldn't fly were in the carriages like before, and Robb found himself sat next to a window. He looked down at the changing landscape before they landed in the shade of a big dune. He disembarked only for a second later for footprints to hit the sound around them, Nesrin dropping a cloak and the flying members of the Qualm appearing out of nowhere.

Nesrin briefed them quickly on the plan of attack, the other Qualms were attacking other entrances and he would love the honour of having his Tashiri claim the queens life. Robb just nodded, braced for the fight that was about to come. When the signal came Nesrin leapt up, the Qualm following a pace behind him. Robb ran fast, seeing that the enemy that stood guard at their entrance were injured, some of which must have been in the battle the day before.

He felt refreshed and ready for battle, and he was sure that his fellow tashiri felt the same way. With an almighty cry the group took the guards completely by surprise, Robb throwing shards of metal in the air from a pouch at his side, before directing them straight towards an injured Vicery. It screamed as the tiny, but deadly sharp shards impacted on its body, causing over a hundred tiny wounds that must have stung painfully. Robb while he ran concentrated them into one long shard, piercing the Vicery through the throat and killing it.

He slid on his knees as he reached the Vicery lines, underneath a swing of a blade at him, his own blade wrenched free of its restraint as he turned to chop an arm off. The Vicery howled and leapt at him, Robb moving with blinding speed as he and his blade cut the Vicery in a dozen different places before he took its head. The Vicery had stood no chance when it fought him, his abilities with a sword far outstripping its abilities. He turned, blocking a Vicery sword that was coming down on his head before he stretched out an arm. 

He grabbed the Vicery blade and with a thought it began to twist and deform. The Vicery looked surprised as its blade broke, apart into a thousand pieces, only to have those pieces speeding back into its eyes and through its head. Two Vicery now charged him and he bellowed as he ran towards them "Terros Now!" His huge metallic wolf bounded out of nowhere, landing on one of the Vicery and ripping it apart limb by limb, huge jaws crushing through it as it died. 

Robb used his blade to kill the second, slashing across its back as it made a fatal mistake in letting its guard down, before killing it with his knife in his boot. He looked up to see Terros grabbing another Vicery, and he ran over to behead it before patting his wolf and sending it away.


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

His trepidation cost Adam a place at the forefront, as Zacarish, Robb and Solomon followed Nesrin through into the hive before Adam could convince his legs to move. He drew his scimitar and held it in a reverse grip, advancing cautiously in the wake of the initial four. 

_What are you doing?!_ **** demanded. _GO!_ 

Even though the hawk spirit had become a part of Adam`s own psyche, she was still very much an entity in her own right and the force of her voice amplified by their unity was just the kick in the arse Adam needed to get himself moving. **** herself pumped energy to his limbs, realizing that she wouldn`t have the same versatility in this environment as she did above ground. In an instant Adam`s hawkish vision took in the details of the walls, noting every crag and foothold before launching himself into the fray with every ounce of speed the furies could give him. 

He approached the wall diagonally and ran up the side, continuing until he was almost to the ceiling. Before gravity could take hold, he launched himself back towards the ground in front of his allies. His target was two vicery moving to reinforce where Robb and his wolf fury had just slain several of the insectoid warriors. Adam impacted blade first before surging through and rolling on the ground. He spun on his heel and dashed back to where his wounded quarry still reeled from his initial impact. Before the creature`s crude minds could even register they were being attacked, Adam had dealt both a lethal stroke from behind. 

He relaxed his energy output, returning to normal speed just as the chitin armoured warriors fell to the ground at his feet. Another warrior diverted its charge to meet him, but its swing seemed somehow sloppy and Adam was able to deliver a lethal strike almost immediately, felling the creature with disturbing ease. 

Taking a look at those who remained, Adam realized that these vicery had a battleworn look about them. They had fought, and they had fought recently. It was then he made the obvious connection: they were the survivors of the previous attack. He spied two of the vicery warriors hovering uncertainly towards the edge of the conflict. 

_Let none escape. They may bring reinforcements if you let them go. _ **** cautioned.

_Somehow I don`t think reinforcements will be an issue for them in their nest..._ Adam replied. _Bear with me, I`m going to try something..._

At this, Adam began to advance on the two vicery warriors, making no use of his abilities as he approached nor attempting to conceal himself. Within a few short moments the tashiri had closed the gap and the vicery both attempted to strike him down. 

It was now that he unleashed his energies, leaping into the air above their swings and manipulating the furies as best he could. He landed deftly on one astonished warrior`s head and balanced perfectly, using the wind to steady himself as the creature thrashed about. Its partner cried out something in its chittery language and swung its blade at Adam`s legs. Using a technique he had made sure to perfect during his youth, he batted the blow downwards as if he was wielding a shield. The heavy bladed weapon obliterated the first vicery`s face just as Adam leaped clear. His focus was thrown off by the use of his deflect however, resulting in him tumbling to the ground rather than the graceful drop he had planned. 

Seeing the vicery looming over him with blade ready to descend sparked a moment of panic and a subsequent release of raw fury energy that by sheer chance saved Adam`s life. The wind reacted to his peril, forming a small but focused whirlwind directly around the creature and throwing its aim and balance off course. It stumbled, allowing Adam to recover his wits, scramble to his feet and drive his scimitar into his foe`s flailing weapon arm before a return slice across its neck. As it fell, Adam noted the rest of the vicery were also falling with relative ease. 

'These are just battleworn remnants of the night before!' Adam muttered. His feeling of trepidation began to return as he thought of the fresh soldiers that would doubtless be upon them very soon...


----------



## Jackinator

*Isira*

Isira was still on edge, her senses still buzzing from the battle. She had seen street fights, even been in a few, but despite the vicious nature of those close in, and sometimes deadly battles they had been as nothing compared to this carnage. But the dome protected them for now and in the gently shifting light it cast she felt her tired and battered body drifting off to sleep.
_____________________________________________________________

She woke before the others, casting her eye around at the sleeping forms before she noticed the central fire was lit. Nesrin sat there, when he had awoken was a mystery, for as she approached she felt the power in the air, witnessing fury-crafting of sublime skill. The look on his face was one of absolute concentration, and, not wishing to disturb him she leant back against the carriage, closing her eyes to slits, waiting for the others to wake.

Adam was the next to rise, although he stood and went to join Nesrin immediately, but retreated a short distance and studdied his activity with interest. His lap was filled with half a dozen or so small balls of ice, about marble size, but which rippled strangely to her senses, powerful forces were at work and after a few of the others had risen, she went over to join them in studying a master at work.

"Keep this with you, should you find yourself fatigued to the point of exhaustion, or suffering from multiple small injuries, pop that in your mouth and you will find yourself renewed. Mind it won't heal serious injuries, but it will put you back into the fight, with the energy to continue." 

Isira flinched a little as she took the small marble, it was icy to the touch, but radiating a power that should surely have left it a puddle of water. She nodded gratefully, slipping the item into a small puch at her belt, hoping she wouldn't have to use it...
_____________________________________________________________

As they touched down she felt the mantle of air fall from around them, it had been an impressive feat. Not one she could even hope to replicate, and one that would have puzzled any onlookers, as footprints appeared in the sand as they landed, to be replaced by a band of heavily armed Tashiri, ready for war.

But as she reached out with her senses at Nesrin's instruction, she felt a far simpler creation, a gentle pulsing in the air marking the entrance to the hive. It was but mere moments before they came into view, only three-score warriors opposed them, some wounded, presumably from the battle the previous day. They didn't have a chance.

Zacarish, Robb, Solomon and Nesrin had already rushed into combat, followed closely by Adam. Realising she was hanging back she unsheathed her sword and started forward with a jolt, but she needn't have bothered as three Vicery warriors flew out of the swirling melee. Two looked fresh, but the third was struggling in the air, half running, half gliding. She met it with a single thrust, pulling her sword out and parrying one of the others while blowing the other tumbling backwards with a flick of her hand.

The two of them danced back and forwards in a blur of motion, but her fury abilities slowly gave her the edge as it missed her last attack, cutting across the creatures arm and causing it to utter a screech of pain and drop the sword. She caught it in the air and thrust it through it's stomach in time for the one she had knocked over to return, this time with another two compatriots.

They were on her in a flash, surrounding her with a whirling wall of death, it was all she could do to keep them at bay. And the steel wall edged closer, taking a deep breath she pushed, hard. The warriors were sent tumbling, but came hurtling back in seconds. One was too quick and she drew her rapier gracefully across it's throat before throwing her knife into the chest of the next. It stumbled, but it's momentum kept it going and it crashed into her, collapsing to the floor as she staggered back, totally off-balance.

She felt an impact, and her head cracked into the wall, she grunted. Tryed to stand. But the floor was spinning. She leaned on the wall for support, feeling blood trickle down through her hair, then she saw the shadow stop above her, and looked up into the triumphant warrior's face...


----------



## Santaire

"Isira!" Zacarish yelled and hurled himself towards her after finishing with his current target. His sword blocked the incoming blow just before it struck and he attacked, hammering his sword at the Vicery. Anger at the near death of one of his friends drove him onwards. His sword was as swift as a thunderbolt and he never gave the Vicery time to do anything but counter his strokes. A single blow breached its desperate defence and thudded into its chest. It stunned the Vicery momentarily and he grabbed it by the throat before hurling it forward. Belak stabbed it in the heart and nodded to Zacarish before returning to his own fight. Zacarish turned and saw Isira picking herself up from the floor. He gave a faint smile and moved towards her until the 2 of them were fighting back to back against the Vicery...


----------



## Midge913

*Belak Ero*

Belak seemed lost in a haze, the exhaustion of using the Adamantium form much worse than he rembered in his training. He supposed that the rigors of combat , true combat not sparring, had pushed him to the point of collapse. He would have to be more careful in the future. As he lay there near the air carriage he heard people talking, snippets of conversation, thoughts on the battle and what they might face the next day, and none of them roused him from his place on the ground, the hard rocky ground that felt as comfortable as a fully stuffed feather mattress in his exhaustion. 

However the wafting aroma of food, a simple stew by the scent of things, caused his stomach to react instantly. He was starving. Sitting up he made his way over to the fire, and saw that Sven and the woodelf Aalrik were tossing things into a pot. To Belak's eyes, as he had never been much of a cook, it appeared that the dwarf haphazardly tossed things into the water, but the smell that was coming from the cookpot once again caused his stomach to surge with desire. He sat a bit away from the two as they talked about their pasts, and the growth of fury power within them. Belak remained silent but listened with rapt attention as Sven and Aalrik spoke of happy lives before coming to the order, and it caused him a twinge of regret. His own parents had always tried to smother him, wanting him to be a blacksmith, though he wagered that he would have made a good one without training, as his own skills in the forge were exceptional now, but then he would have missed out on this life of adventure, this party of men and women who were to be his bonded family. No, turning his back on his home to come into the order had been the right choice. The more he thought about it the more he realized that his feelings of guilt and regret were not because he had left his home, but because he couldn't remember the last time he had thought about it. Soon the Hetat's came and joined the Qalm in their feast of stew and as they ate the High Elf Hetat, Aleanatin, began to tell them of the dangers and foes they would face during the assault on the hive. The beings there did seem monstrous indeed, but Belak was not afraid. He would excercise his skillls to the best of his ability, and he was sure that his friends would do the same. With Nesrin at their head, they could not fail. 

Nesrin instructed them to get some sleep and Belak was surprised to find that once again his lids grew heavy, sound enough adivce indeed.

***​ 
Belak awoke the next morning refreshed. His dreams had been untroubled and calm. As he sat up and wiped the grit from his eyes, he saw that several of his brothers were already gathered near the fire were Nesrin sat, deep in concentration. Belak could feel the Hetat weave metal furies into whatever it was that he was crafting, but the dark elf could tell that more than one aspect, maybe all aspects of fury craft were being brought to bear by his leader. With a grunt the big man finished what he was working on and said to them all, handing them one of the strange marbles that stood next to the tray that he had been working on,_ "Keep this with you. Should you find yourself fatigued to the point of exhaustion, or suffering from multiple small injuries, pop that in your mouth and you will find yourself renewed. Mind it won't heal serious injuries, but it will put you back into the fight, with the energy to continue."_

As the marble fell into his outstretched palm, Belak could instantly feel the cold of its surface, but more accutely he felt the metal furies contained inside. Concentrating more on the crafting, well the part of the crafting that he could sense and use, he could tell that they had been added to ease and erase pain. A worthy gift indeed, Belak though, his respect for the man that lead them grew everytime the bear of man did something. Having completed his task Nesrin told them all to prepare to leave. 

Belak made sure that his weapons were secured and sharp, not that they ever dulled for him, but it was a habit of old, and calmbered into the air carriage with the other non-fliers. Soon they left the ground, a sensation not to pleasant for Belak. He hated to fly, give him solid ground any day over being buffeted by the wind and being rocked about by wind currents. He heard several of his companions delighting in the fact that the carriage and the Tashiri they knew to be flying near them were invisible, blocked from sight by an intricate wind crafting. But he kept his gaze strictly inside the craft, which slowly came to rest on the ground, and Belak piled out of the carriage with the rest of his Qalm, finding himself in the shade of a massive sand dune. He almost jumped in surprise as the the sand right behind him became distrubed by several sets of footprints, seemingly popping out of thin air and he almost drew his sword as Nesrin and the rest of the Tashiri Aria became visible once more. The Hetat looked serious, though eager, and Belak edges his weapons out of their scabbards as the man unlimbered his massive war axe, and listened as he spoke in harsh hush tones, _"Just over the side of this dune is an entrance to the hive. Tashiri Aria and Terra, reach out with your furies and see of you can feel the marker left by the scouts. The other Qalms are going to assail the other two entrances and work their way down the hive, just as we are, to the queen's chamber located at the bottom. I would love for us to claim the honor of killing the queen, so move quickly, strike viciously and surely, and spare no thought for these creatures whether adults or young. They would not spare one for you."_

Belak nodded and charged out from around the dune a second later as Nesrin seemed to hear something the rest of them could not, and cried them to arm. As Belak rounded the dune he saw that there was a tunnel, built up out of the sand, built from what appeared to be mud, that dipped sharply below the surface to plunge down into the ground. The entrance was guarded by close to 60 vicery warriors, but at least there were none of the Guardian beasts Aleanatin had been speaking of in sight. As he rushed forward with the rest of the Qalm, he called out to his furies and caused his double ended blades to start circling in a tight pattern around his body, and when he was close enough he peeled off from the group toward a small cluster of the insect like warriors. Recovering from their initial surprise three of the beasts came at him, and with a thought he reached out to their own blades, and though they were well forged, his crafting surged through them cracking the steel along tiny fissures, and the Vicery's blades exploded into sharp shards of metal. With another yell he flung his and forward, his double-ended blades joining the shards of metal that he scooped up with his power, and the three were lost behind a whirling dervish of blood slicked steel. 

He recalled his blades with a thought, drew his short sword in his left hand, to match his longsword in his right and he parried a blow sent at him by one of the two remaining Vicery of the group. Knocking away the heavy blade with his short sword, he stabbed the beast in the gut with his longsword, as he drew upon the steel in his blades to enhance his strength. His blade erupted from the creatures back, and with a sickening wrench and a grunt of effort he ripped the sword out of the Vicery, slicing through its side, and the beast fell to the ground dead before it struck. He wasn't as lucky with the next beast, and as he spun to confront it he was a fraction of a second too slow jumping back and he felt its blade dig a deep furrow across the top of his hip just below his breast plate. Drawing on his furies he pushed the pain of the injury from his mind, and leveled a flurry of heavy blows against the Vicery that had struck him. With a final yell he took its weapon arm off at the elbow, and flipping his short sword into a reverse grip, he slammed the blade into the insect like skull, pulled it free and with a contemptuous flick shook the things thick blood from the blade. 

He was turning to find another enemy when he heard Zacharish yell and hurl himself further into the mouth of the tunnel. Belack poured on a burst of speed and rushed after him and soon Isira, laying near the upward sloping wall of the cavern, blood covering the back of her head, came into view. He saw Zacharish standing protectively over their Qalm mate, grab one by the throat, and with a quick glance in Belak's direction shoved the wounded beast into his path. Belak leaped into the air, his momentum carrying him straight into the beast his longward slamming into its chest. He rode it to the ground as it fell, rolling overtop of it when he was able, his now empty right hand already shaping itself into a long tapered blade, concentration etched on his face. With a swipe of his short sword he blocked a heavy blow from another Vicery rushing into met them, and with his bladed arm he took its leg off, high near the top of the hip joint, and blood shoot from the wound covering his breast plate, tiny droplets hitting him in the face. He kicked the wounded Vicery over, and backed up to where Zacharish and Isira no stood, fighting back to back. He joined them, and in a flurry of blades and steel the fought one, the tide of Vicery growing ever less as the Vicery fell to the blades and powers of the Tashiri.


----------



## Midge913

*Sven Ironson*

Sven felt a pulse of power ripple through the earth below him and it jerked him awake, his hand flying to his warhammer in anticipation of a fight. He smiled to himself as he looked around, the remnants of the fire from last night stoked back to life, and several of his Qalm mates seated around it, watching Nesrin, his eyes closed, as he worked on some sort of intricate crafting. Sven could feel the powers of the earth stirring around his Hetat, and again he was humbled by the man's power. Sven was no light weight when it came to earth walking, but he lacked the centuries of experience the man had. 

Reaching into his belt pouch, he took out a large strip of beef jerky and his flask. Taking a swig of the burning liquid and tearing off a huge bite of the jerky he felt refreshed and ready to go. There was fight out there to be had and they were sitting around here like a bunch of women in a knitting circle. He had no doubt that what Nesrin was doing was important, but the inactivity chaffed at him. So he went about cleaning up the remnants of their supplies, stowing them back into the air carriage's cargo compartment, all the while trying to get a feel for what his Hetat was making. The complexity eluded him, so he assumed that it must involve multiple disciplines to complete. 

As he was stowing the pot and the laddle he had used last night, Nesrin's eye snapped open and he sighed in contentment. Obviously pleased with his creations, and said to them all, _"Keep this with you. Should you find yourself fatigued to the point of exhaustion, or suffering from multiple small injuries, pop that in your mouth and you will find yourself renewed. Mind it won't heal serious injuries, but it will put you back into the fight, with the energy to continue."_ As Nesrin spoke he distributed one of the strange marbles he had created to each of them. Ignoring the cold, Sven reached out with his sense and felt the quiet pulse of earth power residing in the small item. He could tell that it was designed to enhance and renew strenght, but apart from that he had only what Nesrin told them to go on. Dropping the marble into his pouch, beside his pipe and flask, Sven watched as Robb approached him, gratitude at Nesrin's gift still on his friend's face as he stowed his own marble away. _"Well master dwarf, into the nests we descend. Luckily your dwarven brew seems to have left my system, or I would be entirely useless in the coming fight."_

Sven nodded his head gravely, a look of mock seriousness on his bearded face, his green eyes sparkling_,"Oh aye Master Robb, that is good indeed. Now you will just be mostly useless."_ his tone cutting any sting from his words. He clapped his friend on the lower back, Robb's shoulder to high to comfortably reach, his tone still light but serious, _"I shouldn't wonder that this will be a difficult fight. Poisoned beasts have always given me the willies, and those broodlings sound quite vicious."_ As he climbed into the carriage after Robb, the two continued to speak of the coming battle as the craft took flight under the power of the Tashiri Aria that bore it. 

The desert scene went by more slowly underneath them as Sven watched out the window, and he was initially startled to see that the other carriages and Tashiri Aria had disappeared, until he remembered the time during his training that his own instructor had suddenly disappeared from his sight, forcing Sven to find him based on his contact with the earth, not with his eyes. That would explain the slower pace he thought to himself, the are attempting to maintain the veil during flight. Though the pace was slower, sooner than he expected he felt the carriage begin to decend to the earth, coming to rest behind a lare sand dune. 

He exited the carriage at Robb's side, Avalanche already in over his shoulder as his feet hit the sandy ground. He dislike flying simply because it felt as if half of his senses had been cut from him. He hadn't realized how much he had come to rely on his connection with Asher and the other furies of the Earth until he was cut of from contact with them by being air born. Those sense rushed back to him now, and he felt as the Tashiri Aria of his group set down on the ground, his senses and his connection through the bond identifying them as they landed. Sure enough Nesrin quickly dropped his veil, the rest of the Qalm coming into view around him. Gathering them in he spoke in harsh but hushed tones, obviously eager to take the fight to the enemy. _"Just over the side of this dune is an entrance to the hive. Tashiri Aria and Terra, reach out with your furies and see of you can feel the marker left by the scouts."_ Sven did as he was bid and he felt exactly what Nesrin was talking about. He was surprised that he had missed it earlier as he sensed the quiet pulse of an earth fury, just over the other side of the dune. He could have followed that pulse for miles, if he knew to be looking for it. _"The other Qalms are going to assail the other two entrances and work their way down the hive, just as we are, to the queen's chamber located at the bottom. I would love for us to claim the honor of killing the queen, so move quickly, strike viciously and surely, and spare no thought for these creatures whether adults or young. They would not spare one for you."_Nesrin snarled, his blood up in anticipation. 

Second later, Nesrin called them to arms and rushed around the edge of the dune in the direction of the marker, Sven at Robb's side as the rest of the Qalm followed on. Rounding the side of the dune, Sven saw what he expected to see, a massive tunnel leading down under the sand, with around 60 Vicery guarding its entrance, and in no time the Tashiri were amonst the enemy, Sven felling his first opponent, who had been surprised by the Tashiri's arrival, with a blow from Avalanche that caved the side of its insectiod head in with a sickening crunch. 

Unsurprisingly, Robb and Sven had launched themselves into the thickest area of enemy troops, and as Robb brought his metal crafting to bear, Sven called upon the power of the Earth. Ducking under a haphazard swing, he slapped his palm to the dry earth, calling to the furies there to come to his call, and as they did the earth itself moved writhing in a wave up the Viceries legs, trapping him there. Rolling back out of its reach Sven's hand shot out palm up and hand open and the earth once again bent to his will, a cannon ball sized chunk of rock flew up from the ground and with a clench of his fist Sven sent the heavy missile hurtling at the trapped creature. In an explosion of vicera the rock slammed into the things chest, punched straight through its armored thorax, and shot out the other side, the remains of the creature went limp as it died. 

Turning he saw Robb summoning forth his great wolf Terros, but his friend did not see the vicery swooping in from above to his rear. Sven Cried out to Asher and as the Vicery touched down and raised its sword to strike at Robb's back, the huge grainte bear errupted out of the ground, caught the beast in a life crushing hug, and disappeared beneath the earth once more, its victim along with it. Two Vicery had been knocked over by Asher's appearance, and before they could get up Sven once again slapped his palm to the earth, the sands and mud reacting to his call to slither up over the prone forms, trapping them there. With a bellow and heavy stomp of his bare foot the earth that contained the two vicery began to shake and roil, as if it had become a temptest drive sea instead of hard ground, and the two trapped creatures were pulled apart but the violent forces.

With an effort of will, Asher appeared once more at his side, clawing its way out of the ground, his vicious claws and fangs, glistening in the sun. He set Asher free to wreak carnage of his own making, and the Bear roared a challenge as it crashed into a group of the vicery, their steel swords useless against his furies granite hide. 

Sven moved so that he was behind Robb, facing the opposite direction and allowing the power of the earth to flood into him he felt his strength multiply, his muscles grew more corded, and hard, and he lashed out with Avalanche ramming his hammer's head into the gut of the Vicery that came at him. He heard the satisfying crack of carapace and pulling his hammer back, he hit the creature with a savage blow to the hip area that caused the beast to crumple to the ground, and quickly ened it by crushing its skull.


----------



## Midge913

*Solomon Lok*

Seated in the air carriage next to his Qalm mates, Solomon took in each of them as they flew. He had always been the loner, never really desiring companionship or friends, but his bonding to the other Tashiri in his Qalm had begun to change that. His perceptions of them were far different than the others could feel through the bond, and in some ways their minds always pressed against his own. He watched them talk quietly amongst themselves, wondering where their future as a brotherhood lie. Would they make it through the battles and trials ahead of them whole? Only time would tell.

He felt the air carriage begin to descend, and he took his unstrung bow from his back, stringing it with one deft movement. He checked his quiver of arrows and found that he had about 24 left, a little more than half of what he had brought with him. The strong carapace and death throws of the Vicery he had killed yesterday, meant he had only been able to save 4 arrows of the 20 he had fired. He watched as Aalirk did the same, the master archer making sure the tool of his trade was ready. As they touched down, the men in the carriage disembarked hurriedly and stood in the shade of the large dune their carriage rest behind. 

He sensed the presence of the rest of the Qalm before he saw them, and he was unsurprised as they appeared to view as Nesrin dropped the veil that had hidden them seconds before. As Nesrin approached the group he motioned for them to gather around and spoke in hushed tones when they did, _"Just over the side of this dune is an entrance to the hive. Tashiri Aria and Terra, reach out with your furies and see of you can feel the marker left by the scouts. The other Qalms are going to assail the other two entrances and work their way down the hive, just as we are, to the queen's chamber located at the bottom. I would love for us to claim the honor of killing the queen, so move quickly, strike viciously and surely, and spare no thought for these creatures whether adults or young. They would not spare one for you."_ Solomon nodded in understanding, testing the activation tabs of his spring loaded daggers as he did. 

A few seconds later, Solomon could almost hear Aleanatin's voice as the High Elf Hetat spoke to Nesrin via telepathy. He recognized the voice, but the words were garbled as if spoken through water. Shaking his head, he broke from his reverie as Nesrin called them to arms and charged around the dune with the warriors of the Qalm in his wake. Solomon hung toward the back, letting the close combat fighters rush forward first, intending to cover them with his bow. As he rounded the dune at the back of the pack, bow loaded and drawn, he saw that there were close to 60 Vicery warriors guarding what appeared to be a tunnel leading down under the sand, and they had begun to move to intercept the Tashiri that now rushed into their midst. 

Several of the Vicery took to the skies, making themselves easy targets for Solomon's bow. Three times he drew fletching to cheek, and three times his arrows found their marks, Vicery warriors falling from the air pierced by oaken shafts. As he scanned for more targets he watched as Isira, in the midst of heavy fighting in the mouth of the tunnel went down, and he felt the phantom pain in his head as her skull struck the hard sloping wall of the tunnel. Shouldering his bow he rushed forward, seeing Zacharish and Belak do the same. 

As he ran he found his path suddenly blocked by a Vicery warrior that had swooped down from the sky, landing heavily on an injured leg. Solomon wasted no time, he reached out and grabbed the creature by its weapon arm, sending his furies down through its arm to it brain, immobilizing it as his crafting distrupted the nerve signals. With a quick motion he slammed the palm of his other hand into the bottom of its chin, rocking its head back, as he activated his hidden blades. He felt the thing die as the razor sharp blade slammed up through its chin and mouth into its brain. Releasing it and his crafting the beast fell dead to the ground, as Solomon spun past it in Isira's direction. 

He came upon the group, Zacharish, Belak, and Isira and once again found his path blocked by a Vicery, fortunately facing away from him as it attempted to get at the rest of the Tashiri. He slammed his palm into its back and once more sent is furies questing through its body, along the path of his furies took he sent the command, "Sleep". He felt the creatures resistance, but he forced his suggestion through its feeble mental defenses, and it fell unconscious at his feet. A quick strike to the base of its skull sent his dagger through its spine, killing it instantly. Turning to face away from his companions, the four of them now forming a square protecting each other's backs, Solomon once more took out his bow, and fired into the crowd of Vicery pressing in against them. He noted with some satisfaction that most of the Vicery lay dead, and the few that still attacked them were losing the will to fight.


----------



## apidude

*Aalrik Faengoed - Wood Elf - Wood Walker*

The night had passed. 

Aalrik had not slept. The furies in the plant life surrounding them and the massive lingering energy of the crafting Nesrin had used to reanimate his defensive wall of plant life, energized him and he found no need to sleep.

Through the night he had listened as the rest of the Qalm had slept, some softly, their breathing unnoticable even to his sharp hearing, others with the sounds of earth moving, and others fitfully. As he had listened, he repaired arrows, refletching the feathers and sharpening the points.

"The battle today was nearly enough to best us. What will tomorrow be like." he wondered to himself, as Sven snorted and buzzed as he rolled onto his back. Aalrik nudged him with the toe of his boot and, with a splutter, the dwarf rolled onto his side, snorted once then settled into a slight buzz as he breathed.

"Barkskin. We will be in closed quarters, its protection will be worth the loss of mobility and dexterity using it will cost me." He bent his head to bite the string binding the fletching to the arrow, then coated the base of the feather with a fast drying glue that anchored the feather in place.

He allowed the slow sighs and deep breathing of the rest of the Qalm, envelop him. He could feel, as his body continued to work on his arrows, the whispers of the Bond becoming clearer and easier to understand. He concentrated and found, that if he thought of one of the members of the Qalm, Aalrik was able to isolate that members bond and tell the general state of mind of his Bond-brothers. "And sister." he thought.

The morning came.

The Qalm stirred and rose. Nesrin passed out to each of the members of the Qalm a small clear globe. Aalrik could tell that it was filled with liquid that seemed to sparkle at the edge of vision. If one watched the tiny globe, all one could tell was that it was filled with a clear liquid, but as one's eye moved off of the tiny globe, it glittered with a light of its own.

Aalrik tucked the tiny globe into the pouch that hung inside his tunic as he boarded the carraige and continued to count and strengthen his arrows, his hands recognizing and fixing slight imperfections in the arrows while his mind thought of the battle to be.

Through the journey to the nest, he continued his work, but the instant the carriage touched the ground, he lept from the interior and to the top of the carriage, stringing his bow, even before the carriage had come to a stop.

As the Qalm grouped around the carriage, Aalrik concentrated and he felt the thickening at his joints and felt his skin become hard and rough. At Nesrin's command, "To arms! Follow me." He lept forward, slightly slower than normal, but still ahead of all but the other elves in the Qalm. Firing arrows as he ran, he loosed four arrows that blurred through the air and struck the Vicroy at the join between head and torso. Two heads dropped from the shoulders and rolled away through the sand. The other two, fell as they stood, two crumpled heaps at the entrance of the cave.

From the interior of the cave, four spinning star shaped blades the size of dinner plates, slipped through the air toward Aalrik. One he batted out of the air with his bow, a second struck his arm and stuck, embedded in the wooden barklike skin he had developed about himself. He looked down at the weapon, then pinched it between wooden fingers, and flicked it back into the cave. A Vicroy fell from the entrance, the throwing stars embedded in one's multi-faceted eye.

Aalrik pulled arrows from his quiver and sent them flashing into the blackness of the cave.....


----------



## Angel of Blood

The fight barely deserved the name. The Qualm were tearing their way through the Vicery like a whirlwind, their foe clearly only the survivors of the previous battle, wounded, fatigued and in no shape to take on the force of destruction hurling itself against them. 

Sol was at the head of the storm, heedless of the others, desiring nothing more than to kill every Vicery in his path. He called upon the furies of the air to enhance his speed, ducking and weaving between the Vicery almost faster than the eye could see. He darted past one to appear behind it and before it could even begin to register what had happened he delivered a heavy and fatal blow to the back of its cranium. He once again felt a savage pleasure as he ended the creatures miserable life, feeling no remorse, utterly believing that they should all be exterminated. 

Even as he delivered the blow he was moving away to engage his next target. This one seemed less wounded than the others and managed to force him to block a series of blows before he obliterated its chest cavity with a point blank fireball. The heat wash of the blast rolled back over him, but in tune with the furies as he was, the flames felt refreshing more than anything else as he almost unconsciously manipulated the furies to feed him with more power instead of burning him. 

He boosted himself into the air to avoid a clumsy strike from a crippled Vicery, sending a blast of air into the unbalanced creature, sending it crashing to the ground. He didn’t even finish it off, leaving it for someone else to waste their energy on. He instead sought out and threw himself against two more, reckless it may have seemed, but he longed to actually be tested in this poor excuse of a battle. The two however were just as fatigued as the rest, and though they managed to put up a combined fight that stalled him for more than a moments pause, it was still not enough. He playfully exchanged blows with them, blocking their slow strikes with his vambraces before landing neat and precise blows at their weakest points, where they had been wounded in the previous battle. As the two collapsed to the ground as he simultaneously delivered crippling blows to the pair. He glared contemptuously at them as they feebly tried to rise back up. “This is for Opun” He snarled as he let off twin streams of flame from each hand to finish them. He snorted as he looked down at the two he had just slain. But his moments lapse of concentration and thirst for vengeance of the past cost him as another Vicery slammed into him unnoticed from behind.

He crashed into the ground, cursing himself for his failing. He steadily climbed back to his feet and spun around to face the opposing Vicery. This one didn’t look nearly as injured as the others had done and despite all their differences in physiology and mindsets, he could tell it was enraged. It charged at him with more speed than he had expected it to possess, even with his increased speed it managed to land a blow on him, spinning him around. He desperately called upon the furies of the air to boost himself above the ground, but the Vicery leapt up to meet him, driving him into the side of the tunnel. He slid down the side of the wall and barely managed to land on his knees. He turned to his left to see the Vicery land, now joined by two more that looked similarly unharmed. He remembered back to Alenkos teachings; he had taught him to do absolutely whatever it took to achieve victory. 

Without a moments hesitation he sent a small spark at the trio and clenched an outstretched fist with a snarl as it reached them. The spark exploded with a thunder blast in the confined space, exploding into a raging inferno that consumed the Vicery. But even his control over the furies could not fully protect Sol from such a close range explosion, the blast hit him with more force than he had felt in his life, sending him flying through the battle like a flaming meteor.


----------



## Midge913

*Update #13*

All: The Vicery at the entrance of the cave fall to your swift assault, and you are all taken aback as a thudding explosion rocks the entrance of the cave, heat and light wash over you and you see Sol come flying out of the mouth of the cave to land several feet away from you. Though you hear movement in the back of the tunnel, well beyond your range of sight, you have a moment of respite where you can silence any of the Vicery warriors still alive, but severly wounded, and deal with any injuries that you all may have sustained. 

Sol(Angel of Blood): It takes you a few moments for your vision to clear, and you find that you are unable to sit up and it is very hard for you to breath. As you suck in air you find that it only comes in fitful bursts. Obviously you have broken some ribs, and possibly injured your back. You are able to feel the protrusions of the rock that is sticking up into your back, which is obviously a good thing, but you just can't get your legs to respond. It is hard for you to not begin to panic, when you hear a voice echo through your mind, "Sol, do not move, I am on my way." You recognize the voice as Solomon's. Do you take the healers adivce and try to stay still, waiting for him to arrive, or do you continue to try and sit up, potentially causing yourself further injury. Either way Solomon arrives at your side seconds later, pouring water over your chest, and laying his open palms onto you. You feel his presence in your mind and his voice echoes once more. "Be still," his tone gruff and commanding, "This is going to hurt." With a grunt of effort Solomon begins the healing, and your mind goes white with pain all other sensations being drowned out. 

Isira (Jackinator): The blow to your head has left you a bit woozy and slighty disoriented. Solomon turns to you his hands outstretched obviously asking to see to your wound. Do you allow him to heal you? or do you attempt to continue on, allowing Solomon to save his strength for injuries the Qalm may take later? If you accept his healing he quickly grasps your head, one palm flat across your brow, the other, which he has poured a small amount of water into, slaps over the laceration on the back of your skull. Your head sears with a moment of intense cold that causes you to suck in a breath. It is as if he had plunged your head into a bucket of almost frozen water. Your eyes begin to water at the intense sensation of the skin on your scalp knitting together, and from the almost alien sensation of Solomon's thoughts mingling with your own. In mere seconds from when he began Solomon releases your head, and catches you as you stumble. You almost catch the hint of a smile on the stoic loner's face as you stand regaining your balance, before he rushes to Sol's side. Should you deny his minstrations, proceed to the update below.

Aalrik (Apidude): You feel more than see your last few shafts strike home and through your connection with the furies in the arrow shafts, you are sure that four more Vicery Warriors fell to your shots. You begin to feel a bit of the strain on your energy that maintaining the barkskin causes, but for now you are confident that you can maintain the crafting for quite some time still. As you strain your eyes, peering down into the tunnel below, Nesrin and Sven join you at the mouth of the cave. Nesrin stares down into the darkness, concern growing across his features, and Sven places a hand on the earth at his feet and seconds after touching the ground cries out, his voice carrying to the entire Qalm, "Brace yourself lads!!!! We are about to have guests!"

All except Sol: You all hear Sven cry out, "Brace yourself lads!!!! We are about to have guests," and you see Nesrin begin to throw great gouts of flame down the tunnel. His strikes are meet with chittering screams and in the light of his attacks you can see that there are about 20 more Vicery , swarming up from the ground below. These specimens do not have wings, and unlike the ones you have faced before walk on four legs, are more heavily armored metal pieces covering their thorax, abdomen and head. they stand approximately 8' tall at the top of their head, supported on slender but muscular legs. 10 of the beasts carry heavy spears currently held out before them like lances as they charge at the Qalm. The other 10 bear short bows, and as they surge forward these archers scuttle their way up sideways, clinging to the ceiling as they begin to shoot at you with their barbed tipped arrorws. 

These Guards, though the are not the guardian beasts that Aleanatin described, are much tougher and faster than their flying breathren. You can kill one, and wound another this post. Talk to each other and coordinate who is going to attack the archers on the ceiling, and who is going to clash with the Lancers. YOU CANNOT FINISH THIS FIGHT THIS UPDATE! You will have at least one wounded Vicery Guard on you at the end of the post. 

Nesrin rushes forward in a blinding blur of motion, the head of his battle axe wreathed in flame. You watch him slam into the lead Lancer, his axe slashing. The ground next to the Lancer erupts in an explosion of dirt and stone as Nesrin's huge ape-like fury slams into the things side, bowling it over. The things screeches as it dies, the furies heavy stone fists grinding its head to pulp, as Nesrin moves onto another beast. Djinn bellows, heat and flame coalescing around his form. He thrusts his hands out in front of him, and a column of flame erupts from them, incinerating one of the Vicery Archers, its smoldering body falling from the ceiling, exploding into a cloud of ash as it hits the ground below, before he draws his scimitars and rushes into battle with one of the lancers. 

As the arrows reign down from the archers, that are too high up for you to reach unless you are a flier, or use ranged attacks. You are going to need to deal with dodging or deflecting the arrows, before you are able to get into battle with the Lancers.


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

The explosion tore Adam`s focus from the wounded and back to the inner cave entrance. Sol was thrown out in a blaze of fire and landed heavily on his back. Solomon reacted immediately, rushing to the man`s side and tending to his injuries. 

Adam drove his blade into a nearby wounded vicery`s back as it tried to crawl away. There was little dignity in the stroke but he was not one to take stupid chances. Stepping over the creature`s carcass with disdain he took a look towards the darkness of the caves lower depths. There was nothing to see just yet, so he dropped to his knees and began to meditate. 

... 

The sound of approaching insectoid footsteps was foremost in his mind as he steadied his breathing. 

...

*'Brace yourself lads! We are about to have guests!'* Sven`s voice shattered his reverie and Adam sprang back to his feet with blade already drawn. As he watched, Nesrin unleashed salvoes of flame down the tunnel, illuminating briefly the oncoming attackers. Though some were killed in the fire, many more were still making it through. These ones were not the common vicery that had assailed the tashiri thus far, but something altogether tougher. 

Wingless these one were, half of them clung to the ceiling bearing long bows and quivers of jagged arrows while their bulkier brethren advanced on the ground with spears at the ready. Realizing he wouldn`t make it if he tried to fight on two fronts, Adam decided that he was going to have to summon **** after all. 

'Come forth, o Hawk spirit!' He called. He let loose a ball of blazing teal energy that shot straight towards one of the archer beasts. It resolved itself into hawk form before it impacted the monster`s face. Adam dodged several arrows and deflected another with a gust of wind as **** harried their comrade with her razor sharp wings and talons. She did not have the strength to truly harm the armoured creature, but eventually her distracting flurry succeeded in its goal and the vicery plummeted to the floor. Adam leaped into the air and landed heavily blade first on top of it. 

'****, keep going!' He called. 

He then turned back to the others. 'If you get a chance to break through take it! Use **** to help you if you must!'

With a quick glance exchanged, Adam left **** to assist those further behind. He dashed forth and picked his target with a raise of his sword. His opponent responded with a growl and raised its own weapon in turn. 

It struck first, driving the tip of its weapon for Adam`s heart. The speed of a trained windwalker was not easily matched however, and Adam was able to dodges the blow with ease. He lashed out with attacks of his own but he lacked the strength to penetrate its hide. After a few moments of exchanging attacks and searching in vain for a weakness, Adam withdrew, realizing he would need help to finish this without resorting to heavy use of his fury abilities. 

Remembering that Sol was incapacitated, he instinctively called for someone else. 

'Sven? Robb? Somebody, I may need a hand with this!' 

...


----------



## Midge913

*Belak Ero*

Their foes defeated, Belak turned to retreive his longsword when an explosion of heat and noise washed over him from behind. Spinning he barely caught sight of Sol, flames wreathing his body, fly out of the back of the cave near the origin of the explosion and land heavily on his back. Belak was going to rush forward to assist him, when he saw Solomon throw out a restraining hand, indicating that Belak should stay back and not touch his wounded companion, the healer rushing to Sol side, competance vibrating from him like a wave. 

Belak had only a few seconds to think on Sol's condition when he heard Sven, who was near the mouth of the tunnel with Aalrik and Nesrin, cry out,_"Brace yourself lads! We are about to have guests!"_ Turning back to the tunnel Belak watched as Nesrin and Djinn sent gouts of flame into the tunnel at their newest foe, his friends rushing into combat with Vicery warriors unlike the ones they had been fighting. These beasts were landbound, striding forward on 4 legs, heavily armed and armored. Half of the group clinging to the ceiling, raining down barbed shafts from heavy bows, the others charging forward like lancers, large spears braced underneath their segmented arms. 

Wasting no time Belak leaped into action, his double ended blades flying out in a pattern around him as he rushed further into the mouth of the tunnel. As he ran he dodged several arrows, his natural agility lending to his movements, a final arrow luckily was shredded in its attempt to pass through the whirling cloud of steel that surrounded him. Looking up his flicked his hand in the direction of the offending Vicery Archer and watched as his blades went to work. 2 of his five blade bounced off the things heavy armor, 2 more neatly severed the things bow string and nearly cracked its bow in half with the its impact. His final blade found the things unarmored foot, and he felt a small amount of satisfaction as it roared in pain, nearly lost its grip on the ceiling, and slowly made its way down the wall drawing a wickedly large dagger. 

_"Sven? Robb? Somebody, I made need a hand with this!"_ Adam's voice rang out nearby. Belak started to run in his direction, turning his back on the wounded Vicery making its way down the wall toward them, and saw that the nimble windwalker engaged with one of the heavily armored lancer beasts. It bore several cuts and wounds, but its carapace seemed to deflect most of Adam's blows. Pouring on a burst of speed, reaching into his armor and blades to increase his strength with the metal furies, he lept onto one of the beasts legs, and nimbly rocketed from there onto the things back, grabbing onto a ridge in its armor to maintain a grip as the Vicery started to buck and jerk, trying to dislodge him. A vicious smile crossed his face, and he slammed an open palm into the large armor plate over its back. Focusing on all the metal pieces of the things armor, Belak commanded the furies to come to his call. Slowly, they answered and the metal of the things armor began to ripple and shift, mutating at the Metal Walkers command. With a cry of effort, he started to form razor sharp spikes on the underside of the armor, and agonizingly he began to force those spike through the things body. The Vicery cried out in pain and fury, unable to escape as Belak's new weapons were firmly strapped to its form. With an explosion of vicera the shards of raw metal erupted from the underside of the things body, and with a final jerk it fell to the ground, Belak rolling ungracefully away from it. 

Breathing heavily, Belak drew more on his abilities to ignore his exhaustion and the pain of the cut on his thigh. He drew his longsword and went to stand next to Adam, watching the Vicery he had wounded earlier make its way to the ground, he looked at his companion and said to the wind walker thrusting his chin at the new foe, _"you go high, I'll go for its legs."_


----------



## Jackinator

*Isira*

Isira staggered to her feet, shaking her hair from her eyes as a new wave of enemies erupted from the hive. She paused a moment, touching a hand to the back of her head gingerly and feeling it come away sticky with blood. Solomon approached her, hands outstretched to offer help, but she forced the wooziness out of her head, pushing him towards the more seriously wounded Sol as she advanced towards the onrushing insects, still struggling to clear her head.

A score of Vicery were charging towards them, about half bearing bows and scuttling up the walls to rain down arrows on the Qalm. One flew down, shattering on the rock a hairs breadth from her and she narrowed her eyes, glaring at the offending insect and focusing her powers. She pushed, and instead felt herself stumbling backwards. The creature had fallen to the ground but her lack of concentration brought on by the pain at the back of her skull had defocused her assault. The thing struggled to it's feet as she ran forward, furious at herself. It raised it's bow to block her first strike, an her rapier slid easily off it, before whipping back to slide off the thing's thick chest armour. She cursed under her breath, she had been aiming for the joint, but the blood was beginning to run down in front of her eyes now.

The thing chittered in annoyance, reaching down to swipe at this tiny creature with it's pathetic attacks. It screeched as the rapier cut into the joint at it's wrist, bringing round the bow to cut her legs from under her. She leapt up, pushing gently at the air till she was at it's eye level, then she plunged the long sword into it's eye. It roared in fury, rising to it's hind legs before it fell back, and lay there. But another had noticed the death of it's fellow, and now came on, vengeance in it's eyes.

She ducked the first strike of it's spear, but the return blow caught the back of her head and a bright star of pain exploded before her eyes. She lashed out wildly, and from pure desperation her blade found the joint at the base of it's torso, and stuck there. It spoiled the beast's follow up attack and she rolled under it, more through luck than design, fumbling for the knife in her boot as it readied itself for another attack...


----------



## Angel of Blood

Sol crashed into the ground hard, skidding along the ground for several feet before coming to a full stop. He lay still for a moment; groggily staring upwards trying to fathom how he had thought that attack would be a good idea. He gingerly lifted his head and looked down at himself, noting that some of his garments were still aflame, but with a small shake of his head he extinguished them, though not as fully as he would’ve liked, the blast and impact causing his control over the furies to suffer somewhat. 

His breath came in ragged, shallow gasps and caused his chest to hurt like he had never felt before. He assumed he must have broken some of his ribs, maybe even punctured a lung. That was the least of his problems though as he realised he couldn’t move or indeed feel his legs. He shook his head again and tried to sit up, but couldn’t due to the pain in his back and chest. He desperately tried to move his legs again, even just his toes, but could do neither. 

“Think you might have really screwed up this time Sol” He said to himself.

Despite his own forced humour, he started to worry as he the paralysis in his legs refused to fade away and the pain in his chest increased. He once again tried to sit up, pushing himself up vainly with his arms, growling with pain as he did so.

*” "Sol, do not move, I am on my way."*A voice inside his head echoed that he recognised as Solomons. 

He stopped trying to sit up as waited for the healer to arrive. Instead trying to control his ragged breathing, wishing the healer would get a move on and sort the mess he had got himself into. The healer arrived at last, crouching down next to him. 

“You took your time” He chuckled, coughing up some ash as he did so.

“"Be still," Solomon ordered, pouring water over him “This is going to hurt”

Solomon closed his eyes and began the healing process. The pain was unbearable and Sol screamed out in agony. He considered himself to be tough and hard to inflict pain on, but this was something else. How this was supposed to heal him he would never know. Amidst the pain he heard the signs of battle starting to surround them once again. But Solomon wasn’t finished yet, though he could finally start to feel a curious tingling sensation in his legs and his breath was coming to him easier now. 

Despite the pain trapping his face in a rictus of agony, he still stubbornly as ever managed to snarl out “Remind me never to do that again!”


----------



## Midge913

*Solomon Lok*

Solomon slit the throat of a Vicery warrior that had taken Isira's rapier up under the right side of its carapace, and stood with a sigh. He was tired. Not used to fighting like this, up close and personal. Though he put on a tough guy air, he despised close quater kills. Everytime he took a life, whether animal or human, it wracked his mind and soul. He like other strong water walkers felt when another died at their hands. Not only could they see the life flee from their eyes, but they could feel it when their life force extinguished. That is why he preferred his bow, range was his friend. 

He turned toward Isira, reaching toward her to care for her wound, when a loud explosion roared out of the tunnel behind him, and he ducked to one side as debris and stone came flying outward, Sol sailing past them like a rocket, clothing still on fire. He watched as Sol struck the ground hard, his back angled as he struck a rocky outcropping. Pain flared through the bond for Solomon and he almost cried out. He looked up and saw that Isira was helping him back to his feet and was pushing him towards the downed Fire Walker. Solomon felt a surge of rage, deep down, for those that walked the path of fire. It was always the same, fiery tempers that over rode reason. Their abilities, though formidable, were just as dangerous to themselves and their allies as they were to the enemy. But he had a duty, one that he had taken seriously since the day that his abilities manifested. The fact that Sol was his Qalm mate, and though he was implusive, he could see that they shared many similarities. 

As he ran across the sandy ground between where he was and Sol lay, he saw that the Fire Walker was trying to get up, trying to move. Solomon had seen him land and he surmised that the man had at least a few broken ribs, if not more serious damage to his back. Reaching into his core, he stirred his furies to life, and focused. Telepathy across distance was much more difficult than when he had contact with another, but he was strong, strong enough. 

_"Sol, do not move, I am on my way."_ He saw the man stiffen and he knew that his message had been received as Sol stopped moving and lay back where he was, his chest rising and falling in a halting jerky manner. As Solomon slid to the man's side, he saw that he had a small amount of blood at the corner of his mouth and his lungs gurgled as he talked, "You took your time," he said with a ragged chuckle. Ash and blood spilling between his lips. Solomon tried to keep his face and emotions in check as he poured water over Sol's chest and placed his hands right above the man's heart. Time was short, Sol had perforated a lung, one of the broken ribs that Solomon now felt as he reached out with his furies has pierced the lower part of his right lung. More disconcerting was the fact that as his furies quested through Sol's body, was that he felt a numb tingling below the man's waist. A broken back and severed spinal column, sucking air in between his teeth Solomon braced for the pain that he was about to share with his Qalm mate. 

Once more touching Sol's mind he warned him, _"Be still, this is going to hurt." _ 

He gritted his teeth, his lips pulled back in a snarl at the pain he felt when he sent his furies into the tissue of Sol's lung, pushing the spar of bone out of the organ and back into place. Sol gasped as he knit the tissue of the lung back together and filtered the blood out, into the open blood vessel before attaching that vein back into place and sealing the ends together, stemming the trickle of blood into Sol's lung. With a grunt he heard and felt the bones of Sol's four broken ribs slide into place, his furies regrowing protiens and calcium, fusing the bones together once more. Throughout his work he held Sol's beck and neck immobile, not allowing him to further damage his spinal column. Now that Sol's breathing had stabilized he turned his attention to the delicate work of fixing his companion's nervous system. 

Questing, focusing, trying to ignore the phantom pains that wracked his own body, he found the small break in Sol's lower back. He breathed a small sigh of relief as he found the cut to the spinal chord was small, and not all the way through. The pain was so intense, Solomon had never felt anything like it. He couldn't imagine what Sol was feeling. He could barely hear that his companion was screaming, crying out in agony, but it was far away, distant. He strained as the difficulty of the healing, exhaustion trying to force him to give in, but he pushed harder. Stiving for to make Sol whole again. He felt the nerve repairing itself, and he nearly blacked out as sensation returned, slowly, gradually to Sol's legs. _"Almost,"_ Solomon thought,_ "Almost there."_


----------



## apidude

Aalrik sidestepped the small arrow shafts that the Vicery fired.

"I'll have to let the others who are better equiped to handle the foot soldiers. I'll deal with the archers" he thought.

He called out as he stepped back from the others, "I've got the archers."

In quick succession he drew and fired three times and Vicrey dropped from the ceiling wounded. A few staggared to their feet, snapping his shafts as they protruded from their armor and drew their swords, advancing toward the Qalm. 

Aalrik frowned, sidestepping again out of the path of angry arrows that sliced in his direction, their fletchings buzzing as they flew. Then more. It seemed that the remaining entire archer squad had decided that he was the threat they needed to remove. He dodged from one side to another, his barkskin both helping and hurting. It slowed him down and he was unable to dodge all the arrows but those that struck simply skittered off the smooth hard skin he had grown. One stuck in his drawing arm and quivered.
He snatched it out, swearing at the pain, then switched hands and returned fire. Three more arrows sped toward thier targets.
Aalrik concentrated on the flight of the wooden shafts, willing them to strike the eyes or other vulnerable spots.
Three more Vicery fell and one did not move after hitting hit the floor. The others drew sword and moved toward the fight.
"Well," he thought as he drew again and let fly, "at least the number of arrows I have to dodge has dwindled."


----------



## Lord Ramo

Robb turned as Sven cried out for all of the Tashiri to hear, "Brace yourself lads!!!! We are about to have guests," Robb nodded grimly, his blade slick with blood and gore of the Tashiri that had got in his way. He was wary of this, either it meant a large amount of Vicery had come to reinforce, or it meant something much worse. He saw Nesrin, the great leader of the Qalm, throw great gouts of flame down the tunnel. While he could hear the screams of whatever Nesrin hit, he knew it must be bad.

8 foot tall Vicery, 20 in all marched towards them. They were heavily armoured, and had no wings, relying on for legs to carry them to the battle. Robb could see that 10 carried huge spears like lances, and that they intended to spear the Qalm upon them. The other ten had bows, and scaled the walls to rain fire down upon them.

There was no way that he would be able to take out the archers effectively with his metal abilities. He leapt forward aiming at one of the lancers, knowing he would have to move quickly. Arrows rained down around him, causing him to dodge and twist as they slammed into the ground around him. He neared his target and leapt into the air, bringing his sword down on its spear.

It reeled back, but lashed out with his spear, causing him to drop to one knee to dodge it. He leapt forward again, knowing that he needed to stay in close if he was to survive. The thing had the range over him so he rushed again, metal shards flinging themselves towards its eyes, causing it to be temporarily blind as an arm moved to block.

It was all the time Robb needed, and he grabbed hold of its weapon, causing it to twist and break before he smashed it apart with a swing of his sword. The Vicery started to chitter, possibly a cry for help before he took its head from its shoulder, after several blows. He noted with grim satisfaction its death, that was until he reeled back, pain shooting through his arm. He looked down to see a arrow sticking out of his left arm, and quickly moved to stop another hitting him.

He grabbed hold of the arrow, and broke it in his hand before throwing it to one side, part of it still in him. He would get someone to look at it later, right now he had a fight to help out with. He leapt at the nearest Vicery, and slashed at its legs, taking one of them clean off before he leapt back, his arm throbbing in pain.


----------



## Midge913

*Sven Ironson*

Sven scooped up a handfull of sand and used it to clean some of the gore off of his hammer as he stepped up next to Aalrik. The sharp eyed elf was sending heavy arrows, flashing into the back of the cave at targets that he clearly could not see, not with his eyes anyway. He reached out into the earth through Asher and he felt them, heavy foot falls of many feet. Theses beasts felt heavier to him, it was nothing that he could put his finger on, but they were coming and coming fast. Sven felt Nesrin's powerful earth fury stirring as well as the Hetat stepped up next to he and Aalrik fire already forming between his hands. Nesrin began to shoot gouts of flame down the tunnel as Sven bellowed a warning to the rest of the Qalm,_ "Brace yourself lads! We are about to have guests!"_

He rushed forward at Nesrin's side, the rest of the Qalm leaping into action behind him and as he ran down the tunnel he saw them. These beasts were huge in comparison to the other vicery warriors. "It would take two of me to reach the bastards head," he though wryly as he stopped and rolled to the side, avoiding several heavy arrows that thudded into the ground where he had been standing, with an effort of will he sunk into the earth below him as he rolled, disappearing from view and out of harms way as far as the archers were concerned. This form always made the stalwart dwarf feel uneasy, his vision obscured save for what he felt through Asher, sounds muffled, scents erased. Still he felt them come on, one of the vicious looking lancer beasts ran straight over top of him and as it passed he exploded from the earth behind it. Landing heavily he slammed the head of his hammer down into the ground causing the sand and soil beneath the Vicery's feet to shake and shudder as Sven called to Asher,_ "Asher horalem do irkaul morn meri!" _and the huge granite bear sprung from the earth next to the Vicery and lept at its foe, sharp claws and teeth lashing out, crushing and severing limbs, as it tore the beast to pieces. 

He felt it rush up behind him, footfalls pounding at the sand and he tossed himself backwards, landing flat on his back, sliding to a stop beneath the beast as its lance pierced the air where he had just been standing. He flailed out to the side with Avalanche, knocking one of the things legs askew as it rushed forward causing the beast to trip and roll end over end crashing to a halt against the wall of the tunnel. Sven hauled himself to his feet and was suprised to find that the beast was already rushing at him again, mush more nimble on its feet than he would have believed, and this time he was not fast enought to get out of the way. The Vicery shrieked in triumph as the heavy lance took Sven in the shoulder, skewering him on it, the heavy blade erupting from his back. Pain like he had never felt lanced through him, but on instinct he reached out to Asher and the other earth furies, strength flooding into him. Instead of being knocked flat on his ass, he leaned into the lance, a furrow of sand and shale left in his wake as the beast pushed on. 

_"Is that all you got laddie!" _Sven spat in its face and feeding ever more strength into his short frame, he wrenched the spear to the side with a twist of his body, ripping the spear away from the Vicery, the arm that had been wielding it still attached to the haft. The thing screamed in surprise and pain, and with a grunt of effort Sven snapped the haft of the lance off just above the entrance wound. A maniacal fire started to burn behind Sven's eyes, and with a bellow of rage laced with pain he stormed forward Avalanche held in one hand, the strength of the earth itself roaring through his body.


----------



## Santaire

“Sol!” Zacarish howled as his Qalm member hurtled from the tunnel. He was consumed with fury and sprinted into the tunnel to find the foe. He found an array of pike armed Vicery instead. He sensed his Qalm members charging with him and they hit like the hammer blow of a God. Zacarish fell to his knees and skidded beneath the pike thrust at him. He heard Adam call out "Sven? Robb? Somebody, I made need a hand with this!" All thoughts of his current foe were abandoned as Zacarish turned to sprint to his friend’s aid. Belak beat him to it however.

Zacarish sensed the power unleashed and watched the Vicery collapse. Belak stood and moved next to Adam as another Vicery approached them. Zacarish saw them speak but did not hear the words. Evidently they were planning on killing it but this time he was first. He was a blur of silver motion that flew past them. He left his sword embedded the Vicery’s foot and slammed both palms into its chest, focussing his power. Similar to what Belak had done spikes grew on the inside of the armour and drove deep into the flesh but it was the finish that was different.

With a roar of hate Zacarish focussed every scrap of power he possessed the ability to use into instantly expanding the spikes. The effect was immediate and horrifying. The Vicery literally exploded, spraying blood across the tunnel. Zacarish was left standing, covered in its blood. His visor slits had become blocked and so he shook his head before removing the helmet and strapping it to his side. He ripped his sword free and then turned to Belak and Adam. His silver armour was now red and thus his coal black skin and daemonic eyes had taken on a new appearance.

All traces of personality was one from those eyes, the emotions having all been superseded by cold, black rage. Too many people had died because of these creatures, far too many. Time seemed to have frozen and his hooded eyes swept across the tunnel. He saw his Qalm members and felt pride to be given this chance to fight alongside such remarkable people. In a way he was the least worthy of them. Strong in power he may be but flawed in spirit. No matter what happened his rage had always been a part of him and always would be, he simply could not let it go. He lacked the ability to control it.

Then suddenly everything was back to its normal speed and his sword moved almost of its own accord, deflecting the incoming arrows. He sprinted forward and threw all his weight into the tip of his right shoulder, slamming it into the face of one of the archers after a quick pulse of air lifted him to that level. The Vicery fell and Zacarish fell with it. He rolled to his feet and confronted the archer which had drawn a sword before rushing at him. He met its charge with his outstretched palms, around which orbited his blades…


----------



## Midge913

*Update #14*

Adam (Serpion5): You and Belak are about to engage the archer Vicery that has scuttled down the wall, wicked dagger in hand, when Zacarish rushes in from the side and kills the beast in an explosion of gore and armor. He stands there for a moment, seemingly consumed with rage, and you can almost feel the hate that he feels for the Vicery pulsing across the bond. Before he launches himself in the air at the last archer that still clings to the ceiling, bringing it down from its perch by slamming his shoulder into it. Belak streaks off to engage one of the archers that the rest of the Qalm has managed to dislodge from the ceiling, he blade flashing to meet the Vicery's in a clash of steel. You only just manage to sense the approach of another one of the archers, bow discarded in favor of its blade, as it sneaks up on you from behind, **** calling out a warning as you duck the first slash of its blade. However, you are caught off balance by its attack and it stomps down on your shin and left foot with its spiny leg, causing you to fall onto your back. You are easily able to get to your feet, your fury enhanced speed kicking in, you notice that it is favoring its right side, trying to keep it away from you, but you see that two of Aalrik's stout arrow protrude from joints that attach its thorax to its abdomen. It moves stiffly, but it is still a dangerous foe even though it is injured. Use its injury to your advantage and kill it this update. 

Isira (Jackinator): The vicery above you stabs down between its legs with its heavy spear, trying to impale you but the angle at which it is forced to strike makes it all but impossible for it as you dodge around avoiding the blows. Your rapier is still stuck in the joint where your haphazard strike lodged it, but every so often as the beast twists and lurches around in an effort to get at you, it comes close to an angle where you could reach out and grab it if you are fast enough. You going to need to use your dagger to distract it, so that you can get to your rapier and shove it the rest of the way into the Vicery for the killing blow. You will obviously kill yours this update. 

Sol (Angel of Blood): The pain of the healing seems to reach its pinnacle, the sharp blinding fury of it threatening to overwhelm you, though your own stubbornness and Solomon's calming presence in your mind keeps you concious. Just as you feel that the pain will drive you mad, it stops, the world crashing in on you in a rush of sound and color. Solomon sits next to you, hands outstretched on his knees, panting heavily, eyes closed. Though he looks exhausted you see that a slight smile plays around his lips. You experimentally try to move your toes and feet, and to your great surprise you find that you can move them again. The pain in your sides and back is gone and you can once again feel everything below the waist. Though the healing has left you slightly fatigued, the sound of battle rages around you and urges you to your feet, ready to fight. Solomon pushes himself to his feet behind you and he calls to you, "Go. I am right behind you." Sprinting towards the tunnel you see the Qalm engaged in battle with a new breed of Vicery warriors. These massive beasts are wingless, walk on four legs, are heavily armored and wield a combination of wicked swords and heavy lance-like spears. All of the members in the Qalm are engaged with at least one of the beasts save Nesrin who is battling two of the things at once, his Ape like fury has been joined by one that appears to be a huge serpent made of Azure flames. Nesrin and his furies fight like mad, but you can tell that even the formidable Hetat is taxing his abilities. Further down the tunnel you see that one of the archer Vicery has hauled itself to its feet and is now rushing up on the Qalm's rear flank. You have the choice to either go and assist Nesrin in his fight, or go deal with the unopposed Vicery. Either way, you can kill a single Vicery this update. 

Aalrik (Apidude): Now that the Vicery have abandonned their bows and rushed into melee with the rest of the Qalm, you are leary about using your bow to continue the fight. The speed at which the Tashiri Aria move is a blur even to your eyes and you are afraid that an errant shaft would strike them by accident. Just as you draw your blades to rush into the fight, one of the Vicery Archers, one of your arrows imbedded deep with in its abdomen on the right side, come scuttling at you, sword raised. You must use all of your abilities to dispatch your foe, but during the fight you feel your control of the barkskin begin to strain. You think that you will be able to sustain it for the next few minutes but all of your concentration is required to wield your blades and maintain the protective covering. If you want to utilize any of your other fury abilities you may need to soon drop the barkskin to do so. You are able to kill the Vicery this update, but don't make it too easy. 

Robb (Lord Ramo): The Vicery whose leg you just took screams in pain, lashing out with its spear in a pain clouded strike. By some twist of fate it manages to hit you in your wounded arm, driving the arrow head deeper into your flesh, striking the bone, but breaking the haft of of the weapon. Even through your ability to ignore pain you grimace at the agony it causes. The Vicery that you face is whipped into a frenzy brought on by pain and bloodlust and it comes at you with both the broken spear and a large wicked dagger the length of a normal short sword. The beast is fast and it will take all of your skill to take it down. You are able to kill it this turn but don't make it too easy, it is a skilled opponent. 

Zacarish (Santaire): Rushing at your opponent you find that it is only stunned by its impact with the ground. It raises to its feel quickly and with a shrieking cry rushes at you with it sword bared. It is fast, much quicker than you had anticipated. It strikes at you four times, the heavy blade of its sword whistling through the air, striking at your face, chest, arms and legs. Your skill with a blade allows you to block three of the four, but the fourth strike makes it through your defenses. You decide where the blow lands and the extent of the injury, small or large, piercing, slashing, or bashing damage it is up to you, just make it something that puts you on the defensive. Your opponent is skilled and it will take all your abilities to take it out, kill it this update but don't make it too easy. 

All: The battle rages around you coming to an end as you all defeat your foes. As the last opponent falls, Nesrin calls you all over toward the mouth of the cave to assess injuries and regroup. There is a lull in the action and you neither hear or see any vicery opponents for the moment. It is time to see to injuries and assess equipment before journeying further down into the hive.


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

Adam dashed ahead of Belak, intending to leap atop their target`s head and keep it distracted until the stronger man could finish it off. They were beaten to the punch however by the intervention of the other windwalker Zacarish. The vicery`s death was gruesome indeed. Zacarish` hate was like an inferno and Adam was aware of the extreme loathing the other shared for these creatures.

Adam stopped running and took a moment to plan his next move. Behind him, Belak had engaged another foe and Zacarish had likewise kept moving. 

Adam was almost about to lower his blade when instead a shriek from **** hovering above prompted him to duck and spin on the spot. He barely avoided the swing but such an ungainly maneuver made him easy to throw off balance. The beast kicked out with one of its thin but powerful legs, sending the younger man sprawling. It tried to stomp down again even as it raised its blade for a downward strike. 

Adam rolled backwards, using the wind to push himself to his feet as he raised his own weapon to defend. As he got to his feet he parried two blows and dodged a third before countering with one of his favoured combos. A quick flurry of strikes designed to force a foe on the defensive and inflict superficial damage before he went for the kill. **** hovered ovehead, scanning the greater battle and waiting for a command from any of the tashiri that may need help. 

Adam noted as he circled his foe, that the vicery was one of the archers from earlier. It had already been shot several times presumably by the elf Aalrik, but was still well and truly capable of threatening a tashiri warrior. It brandished its serrated blade aggressively but seemed to guard carefully its opposite side. And therein lay its weakness. 

He called upon his fury ability and surged forth, aiming for the weakened side. As he predicted, it brought its blade around to defend itself and Adam immediately altered his trajectory. With his blinding speed, the movement could not be followed by the beast`s eyes and Adam drove his blade through the uninjured yet exposed torso on the monster`s other side. He leaped clear as it fell, shaking its ichor and other viscera off his blade as he approached where Nesrin stood. 

The battle was winding down and Adam nodded to the others of his qualm as they followed down to their Hetat. 

There was no sign of any further contact and Nesrin seemed content to wait, calling to the others as the battle drew to a close. 

Adam knelt while he waited, checking the blade of his scimitar for damage and readjusting his armour at the same time. He was disappointed to count two notches in the blade where he had carelessly deflected with the edge. They would prove difficult to repair, and he was not equipped with the adequate equipment here. 

As **** landed beside him, Adam took his whetstone out of one of his pouches and did what he could to hone the blade`s edge. After a few moments he began to curse loudly, and wished he had the physical strength for a more durable blade...


----------



## Santaire

Zacarish was surprised by the archer’s speed. He quickly thrust his arm forward and the blades slammed into the Vicery’s weak points but it kept coming. He only just had time to draw his own sword before it reached him. He blocked the first mighty swing with a shiver in his arms before he deflected a lunge with a flick of the wrist. A lightning fast slash swooped beneath his guard but he just managed to block it. Then the Vicery suddenly switched hands and slashed at him from the left. The blade flew threw the air and Zacarish turned into it. He knew he could not avoid it but perhaps he could redirect most of the force.

The heavy cleaver slashed through the air and Zacarish spun, bringing the air furies to bear as he spun. The lightning speed of his sudden turn caused the cleaver to slide off his vambrace however there was a grating sound of bone on bone as the force crushed his wrist. He suddenly twisted his body further and the cleaver slid free but he was on the back foot now. The Vicery hammered blow after blow at him and although Zacarish parried them all he knew that eventually another would get through and then another, on and on until he was dead. He left himself wide open to an attack and the insect lunged. And screamed…

Zacarish had driven his blades deep into flesh with a burst of willpower. Indeed they only stopped when they hit bone. Its blade, robbed of the killing force, rebounded harmlessly from a crossed blade that knocked the slash wide. He pressed the advantage, his blade flicking out in a dazzling series of feints and blows that the creature was hard put to block. His leaf blades tore free of the Vicery’s flesh and orbited around his head, deflecting all attempted counters from the insect. He smiled and then thrust his sword forward. Along with it he sent his leaf blades.

The blades knocked away the attempted block and the sword slammed through the weak point at the neck. He raised his foot and kicked the beast off his sword before he walked forward to stand over its quivering form. He ended its pain with a two handed thrust into the heart. He walked over to Nesrin and as he waited for the others to join them he spotted Adam working on his sword. He noticed a couple of notches in the blade and so walked to him. “Let me,” he said quietly, holding a hand out for the sword.


----------



## Midge913

*Belak Ero*

Belak stood, rooted to the spot, the feeling of hatred and rage imminating from Zacarish flooding over the bond. His fellow Dark Elf's emotions were in turmoil, and as Zacarish stood there, blood and vicera cover his armor, Belak was almost caught up in the eddy and flow of the endless sea of rage locked behind the mans eyes. Slowly Belak came to himself as the bleed through of emotion subsided and soon he saw a change in Zacarish, rage turning to fierce pride as the elf surveyed the Qalm and then rocketted back into action. This was enough to break Belak's reverie and he too snapped into motion.

Spinning on the spot, he saw that one of the Vicery Archers, several heavy oaken arrows protruding from weak spots in its legs and thorax. Smiling as he recognized Aalrik's handiwork, he bellowed a challenge to the beast and with blazing speed he began to fling his throwing daggers at the oncoming enemy 3 throws with each hand, 6 blades in all rocketed into the creature, each blade finding a weak spot. It screamed in pain as one of its legs buckled and one of its arms fell useless to its side, its thick blood running in rivulettes down into the sandy earth. Fierce purpose began to flare in his chest, and with an effort of will he focussed on his double ended blades, each razor sharp, and in a hail of flashing metal he flung them in a chaotic cyclone into the creatures remaining legs, dropping it to the ground with a thud. 

Drawing his longsword and taking it in a two handed grip he stalked forward. Even though the thing was now immobile, it still stood almost as tall as he did, and its reach with its single working arm still formidable. It swung out at him, a lucky glancing blow that, although he parried it to the side left a long cut up the side of his left forearm. _"Enough of this farce,"_ he growled to himself, and he launched a series of attacks into the beast, its arm finally falling to the ground, and with a vicious swipe Belak sent the Vicery's head to meet it. 

He looked around and saw that his companions were finishing their own battles and with concern saw that Isira still bore the injury to her scalp and that Sven and Robb both bore injuries, Sven's rather severe. Cleaning his sword, he checked the edge, and finding it as sharp as ever he collected his knives. He came over a Nesrin called them together and with a glance at Solomon, who looked exhausted but alive, hoped that Nesrin would be able to do something for Sven. It would not do to have the formidable earth walker out of this fight, they needed to be whole to have a hope of surviving.


----------



## Midge913

*Solomon Lok*

Sweat dripped down his face and into his eyes as he strained to maintain and complete the healing. Sol was breathing heavily, teeth grinding, fists clentched as he bore the pain that threatened to steal Solomon's breath. Then suddenly it ended. He felt the last of Sol' nerves regrow, the bones knit, and the muscles realign. Solomon slowly withdrew his presence from Sol's mind, collapsing to the ground next to the Fire Walker. 

Solomon wanted nothing more than to roll over and go to sleep, but the sound of battle reached him. He knew that he must assist his Qalm. This feeling of companionship was something strange to the consumate loner. For so long he had wandered alone, trained alone, avoided contact. The pain that he had felt at his parents death compounded ten fold due to his abilities, he had long ago distanced himself from others. His natural empathy sometimes threatening to overwhelm him during his training. Now he couldn't escape it now. He was bonded to the warriors of his Qalm, their emotions and thoughts filtering through the link forged among them. Even though he had never asked for it, he was now a part of this group. He felt a kinship that he had not for almost a decade. The thought that these warriors, his brethren, needed him, depended on him as he depended on they, stirred him into action. 

Rolling to his side he sat, arms outstrected sitting on his knees. He focused on his breathing, centering himself, trying to recuperate and regain his energy. Sol stirred in front of him and as the man wiggled his toes and feet, finally standing and turning toward the battle, Solomon could not help but smile at his handiwork. That had been one of the most difficult healing he had ever undertaken by himself and the fact that he had succeeded made him proud. He saw that Sol looked at him, obviously concerned with leaving him by himself to go join the battle. Hauling himself to his feet with a grunt of effort Solomon waved a hand to the fire walker saying, _"Go. I am right behind you."_ He watched Sol jog into the battle rushing to assist Nesrin as the Hetat fought two of the large Vicery. Pride filling him with a strength and energy.

Scanning the battle he saw that one of the Vicery Archers was hauling itself to its feet and drawing a wicked looking dagger. He rushed forwards trying to get to it before the beast could crash into Aalrik's flank. Luckily the beast had not noticed him and he put on a burst of speed, crashing into it with grunt of effort just before it reached Aalrik. His shoulder struck the Vicery just behind the front leg joint, and the two went down in a tangle of limbs. This was to his advantage though as it put him in close proximity to use his abilities. Clumsily ducking an armored elbow joint, he saw that one of Aalrik's arrows protruded from the things underbelly. It was wounded, a malicious grin errupted across Solomon's face as he let a little watter leak out of his water skin. Directing the furies of the water into the wound, seeping around the arrow, he frowned in concentration as he sent them coursing through the things alien body. Along the way he tweaked nerves, wracking the creatures heavy frame with as much pain as he could. The creature thrashed and flailed under him, but Solomon kept the pressure on sending his furies into the things strange muscles causing them all to lock up at once. Exhausted barely holding onto his crafting he activated his hidden blades with a flick of his wrist and with a roar slammed the heavy steel into the things temple. It died soundlessly, its muscles relaxing as he released his crafting. He had a moment to register that its alien emotions cycled through fear and terror, but thankfully he was too tired to be much effected by them. 

Sliding to the ground off of the creature he saw that the rest of the Qalm was finishing the other Vicery and it appeared that they were going to have a lull in the action for a moment. No new creatures were rushing to intercept them, perhaps the assault of the other Qalms was occupying their attention. His eyes started to scan the warriors of his group and he found that Robb was standing cleaning his blade on the corpse of a dead Vicery. The man had the shaft of one of their arrows sticking out of his left arm just above the elbow. Solomon tried to speak but found that he was so tired, he could not raise his voice above the sounds of combat to get the mans attention, so he lurched over to the formidable swordsman. Without preamble, he poured some water into his hands and pulled the arrow out of his companions arm, his furies making quick work of the laceration. Fortunately the barb had not lodged into Robb's bone, so the healing was simple enough. He heard Robb gasp in surprise and pain as he worked, but he cared not. He had little else on his mind than seeing them whole and back into the fight.


----------



## Lord Ramo

Robb leapt in for the kill on the wounded lancer, blade ready. However he held his blade to low to block the lancers spear coming round. It hit his arm, exactly where the barbed arrow was, snapping the lance in two but driving the arrow to the bone. Robb snarled in pain, feeling it shoot through his left arm. He quickly ducked as it swung the lance for his head before drawing a wicked looking knife.

Robb was put on the defence, his left arm hanging at his side. He wielded his blade one handed perfectly, able to fight with both or one or the other. He twisted away from a strike from the Lancers broken lance and blocked a swipe from the knife, before rolling forward under his opponents guard. He brought his sword up in an uppercut, slicing through its arm holding the lance.

He twisted away again as it cried out in pain and it swung at him madly. Robb kept his distance, watching its movements, looking for a pattern. He leapt forward, at the same time he called out and Terros appeared, leaping from his side to attack the lancer. It couldn't deal with the two of them and quickly Terros held its arm in his mouth. knife still attached to it. 

Robb stood ontop of it, sword driven into its body to the handle. He slowly pulled it out before taking the head clean from its shoulders. Exhausted he took a step off it and started to walk to the rest of the group to assess the situation. Solomon came over to him and without a word pulled the arrow from his shoulder, causing Terros to snarl in the pain he caused Robb. Robb grimaced in pain but said nothing till the healing was done and Solomon quickly started to walk away.

"Next time give me some warning before you do something like that again Solomon." He snarled as he walked to join the others.


----------



## apidude

*Aalrik - Wood Walker - Wood Elf*

Aalrk loosed another arrow into the darkness of the cave, feeling the furies of the arrowshaft, and guiding it to its target. The Vicery archers, aware that their bows made them targets for the elf archer, dropped their bows and pulled blades from sheaths along their back.

Aalrik, a new arrow nocked and the bow partially drawn, looked for more targets. Everywhere he looked the Tashiri were locked in close combat. There were no targets that did not include a very real risk of hitting one of his Qalm.

He heard a loud thud and clatter and wheeled around. Solomon had barreled into a wounded Vicery that had been approaching from Aalrik's blind side and had it on the ground. It was twitching and shuddering. Solomon was manipulating the furies and the creature was heaving in its death thros.

Aalrik dropped his bow and snatched out Aor and his dagger and turned to face another of the Vicery monstrosities that emerged from the cave an arrow jutting from its side and one of its arms disabled. It scuttled directly toward Aalrik and raised a sword that was twice the reach of Aor and sliced for Aalrik's head. He ducked and the blade's passing pulled at his hair. Aalrik spun to his right and the creature overreached and Aalrik completing his spin embedded his dagger in the creatures side. It was yanked from Aalrik's hand as the creature bellowed and snarled, spinning so fast that Aalrik could not avoid the blow the creature leveled at his torso. If he had not empowered his Barkskin armor, he woudl have been split in two. As it was, the blow knocked Aalrik from his feet and drove him 8 feet away, winded. The creature reached across its body and pulled the dagger from its side and threw it at Aalrik. It spun with a blur toward Aalrik's head. Instinctively he sliced out with Aor and the dagger was deflected, spinning off to one side, flashing as it went.

Breathing hard, trying to catch his breath, Aalrik jumped to his feet as the creature sped toward him, Aor at guard. The creature struck low, the huge blade arcing in a blur toward Aalrik's groin. Jumping back, the blade passed inches from his body, and as the creature reversed his swing, Aalrik stepped inside the creatures reach and stabbed Aor into the joint between the creature's head and its body. Aor gouged out a large chunk of the creatures neck and Aalrik was splattered with liquid that gushed from the wound. Aalrik pulled his blade free and spun it, slicing off one of the creatures arms. It staggered, then fell into the dust, twitching.

Aalrik, tiredness making itself felt, allowed the Barkskin to fade. He reached into his wooden and leather armor and hardened the wooden stays, but felt reengergized as the drain on his powers caused by maintaining the Barkskin diminished. It had saved his life twice in this skirmish.

He looked around. The others seemed to be finishing their combats and there was a lull. He wiped his sword on the body of the Vicery, sheathed it, then bent, picked up his bow and began to retrieve arrows.


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

Zacarish had approached Adam as the young man fervently tried to ready his blade for the next encounter. 

*'Let me.'* The elf said with a hand outstretched. Adam blinked, caught by surprise before reversing his grip and handing the scimitar to Zacarish and giving a nod of thanks. Though Adam had never been negligent with his weapon in the past and was not usually one to ask for help, he was not so devoid of sense as to turn down and offer like this in such a dangerous time and place. 

**** watched with large focused eyes as Zacarish plied his craft. The hawk spirit had become something of an oddity since joining with the windwalker, perhaps due to her instinctive predatory nature or perhaps as a result of Adam`s influence. In any case, her presence was a reassuring reminder to him at all times, whether physical or not, that he was not alone in this. 


As this thought occurred to Adam, so too did another. He had not been alone for some time now. Since becoming part of the qualm he had felt the presence and thoughts of the others just as he had ****. Though the bond was still relatively weak compared to the bond between him and his fury, it was most definitely there. Maybe the others were feeling it as well? 

'Zacarish. Thank you for this.' Adam said, getting to his feet and awaiting what came next.


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## Midge913

*Sven Ironson*

The air whistled as the heavy head of his warhammer soared in an arc, crashing in to the vicery's wounded side like a thunderbolt. Sven smiled as the thing screeched in pain and fear, but his smile whithered on his face as the stubborn beast skipped and jolted to keep its footing. A second later its remaining arm slashed down at him, its heavy curved blade aimed at the stalwart dwarfs head. Unable to get out of the way, Sven attempted to parry the blow with the haft of his hammer, but without his other arm the manuever was sluggish and akward. It turned the force of the blow away from his face, but the wicked blade left a deep furrow down the outside of his forearm, the sting of its strike causing him to suck a breath in over his teeth to keep from crying out. 

He exchanged blow for blow with the beast, neither giving ground, or losing it. But Sven could see that he was outmatched. Though the beast bore several injuries, its blood seemed to clot much faster, sealing the wounds to prevent the loss of fluids from sapping its strength. It moved with a lurching gait, but its strikes were well aimed, blindingly fast, and struck like a ton of bricks. Finally his arm, despite his furies assistance, felt like rubber. He gathered his strenght, aimed true for one final strike, and with a bellow of rage flung Avalanche at the things remaining arm. He grinned as he saw the heavy maul, impact the things upper arm like a battering ram, the force of it ripping the other arm from its socket. 

Now frenzied, the beast launched itself at Sven, heavy mandibles clacking as it bore done on him, and the two tumbled to the Earth in a tangle of limbs. _"If I go,"_ Sven wheezed and moaned as the Vicery's mandibles latched onto his shoulder, the force of the bite crushing bones, and tearing flesh,_ "you are a' goin' wit me." _He clasped his hands around the things throat and leaned into it with as much force as he could muster. Carapace popped under his thick fingers, and the two remained there, locked in a primordial embrace, each seeking the others death as his vision began to darken and fail.


----------



## Midge913

*Solomon Lok*

Solomon almost jumped in surprise and faltered the healing that he was crafting around the wound in Robb's arm, as the man's giant metallic wolf fury snarled in Solomon's direction. At first he was incensed that the beast would threaten him so, all he was trying to do was help. It was bad enough that he was exhausted, but to be treated like he was some sort of outsider, some stranger. His ire increased when, as he finished the healing, Robb snatched his arm away from Solomon's grasp and spat, "Next time give me some warning before you do something like that again Solomon." The warrior walked away from him testing the move and play of his arm, without so much as a backwards glance or thanks. _"You're welcome, master,"_ Solomon retorted, _"Sorry for the inconvience."_ He felt his anger bubbling and clamped his jaws shut before he said anything he would truly regret. 

His rage was bubbling beneath the surface as he watched Robb job back toward the area were some of his Qalm mates still battled the Vicery. Did they expect him to just simply follow along like a dutiful dog, healing them as they fought the enemies of mankind. They were in a for a rude awakening if that was the case. He focused, trying to find his center, to calm his mind and as he did a stray thought flitted through his mind, undercutting his rage. Perhaps he had been too hasty. He was so unsure of himself when it came to interacting with others, he genuinely felt that he had been doing the right thing. But healing was invasive, personal, perhaps Robb had a point. He needed these men and women to trust him, as he in turn needed to move beyond his past and trust them. 

He broke into a loping sprint to catch up to the swordsman, approaching in a manner that didn't raise the large wolf's hackles, _"I apologize Robb. No offense or intrusion was intended."_ It was only then that he caught sight of Sven, the wounded Dwarf going down underneath a heavily Vicery. Pain flared through the bond, though probably only strong enough for Solomon to feel. Robb had not seen as his attention was now on Solomon, facing away from where Sven fought. _"By the gods, Robb,"_ he said pointing in the downed dwarf's direction, _"Hurry!"_ He shouted as sprinted toward the combat, hoping that he would find Sven alive.


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## Lord Ramo

Robb moved away from Solomon, he may have been a little short with him, but Solomon had just caused him a lot of pain pulling the arrow out. As he walked back towards the others, Terros at his side he could hear running feet behind him. Robb turned, hand on his blade, as well as Terros, ready to pounce on whoever came near. However he let go of his weapon when he saw that it was Solomon, the man running to catch up.

"I apologize Robb. No offense or intrusion was intended." Said Solomon quickly, and Robb could tell that he was sincere and he felt a pang of regret for the way in which he had acted earlier. Robb was about to apologize for the way in which he had acted, to tell him that it was the pain and surprise that caused him to act so ungrateful. However Solomon drew his attention away from his thoughts quickly, looking in a direction away from Robb.

"By the gods, Robb," he said pointing in the direction he was looking, "Hurry!" He shouted as sprinted away.

Robb turned and saw and what Solomon was horrified about. Sven was locked in a death embrace with a vicery, both near death, though Sven looked like he might go first. Robb broke into a sprint, blade unsheathed in a matter of seconds as he bounded over to the fighting dwarf. He leapt foward blade in an arc as he chopped the mandibles off that held the dwarf in their powerful grip. He didn't waste a second, and plunged his sword through the top of his head, killing it.

*"Master dwarf, it appears that I may have stolen your kill, I do apologize."*


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## Jackinator

*Isira*

A great ringing blow smashed splinters from the rock beside Isira's head as she rolled away from the Vicery's enormous spear. It swung it up and brought it down with another great crash as she rolled to the other side, but this time she saw the hilt of my rapier protruding from between armour plates, grating as the thing turned it's body from side to side. Each time the beast moved for a blow it swung closer, she would have to take the chance, she didn't have much chance of killing it with her knife.

She flung the knife wildy at it's face as it moved for it's next blow, and instinctively it turned, keeping it's eyes away from the glittering blade. That brought her rapier even closer and she barely grasped it with her fingertips, ripping it out only to be rewarded with a spray of gore to add to her own already coating her face. She shook her head, struggling to clear the blood from her eyes and the Vicery's spear crashed into the stone a hairsbreadth from her face. Pawing at her eyes she rolled backwards and then pushed at the air, sliding herself under the lancer as it followed her. She stopped right beneath it's vulnerable underbelly and with a cry thrust the rapier two handed into it's belly. It screeched and she thought it was going to collapse atop her, but slowly, oh so slowly it keeled over onto it's side. She put a foot against it and pulled the long blade out, wiping it on her cape, it couldn't get much bloodier, before sheathing it and retrieving her knife from where it had clattered onto the floor and doing the same. Then standing she gazed around to see where she was needed most...


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## Angel of Blood

The pain increased to an unbearable level, Sols teeth clenched together so hard he thought they might shatter, eyes closed so tight that they might never open again. Sol was convinced even his iron will would give out at any moment. Just as he formed the thought though, the searing pain at last began to fade away and the world itself faded back in. 

The sound of battle was all around him, the clash of steel, the whistle of arrows and the ironically unnatural sound of the elements being manipulated by his fellow Tashiri. He managed to slowly open his eyes to a world of blinding light, which slowly refocused back into reality. The first thing he saw was Solomon sat at his side, looking beyond exhausted but pleased. Gingerly he tried to move his legs and to his great surprise found he had fully regained all movement in his limbs, the pain in his back similarly gone. 

Carefully sitting up he took in the battle around him. Belak, Adam and Zacarish were fighting together, working to take out the archers that were futilely attempting to bring down the superior Tashiri in their midst. Isira was artfully battling a Vicery with a rapier. Aalrik was almost unrecognisable covered as he was in bark. 

Recomposing himself he got to his feet, once again feeling his connection with the furies as he experimentally formed a small fireball into his hand before collapsing it again. He went to rush back into the battle but hesitated, casting a wary look back at the healer. Solomon urged him onwards however, claiming he was fine and would be right behind him. He gave one last look of concern at him, then with a curt but clear nod of thanks rushed forwards. The Vicery they were fighting now were an entirely different prospect to the light agile ones of before, more heavily armed and armoured, but slower he noted, something he could use to his advantage. 

Whilst most were fighting them one on one, Nesrin was taking on two of them at the same time, aided by two of his summoned furies. Without hesitation Sol rushed back into the fight alongside his Hetat. One of the creatures noticed him at the last moment and stabbed at him with a deadly looking lance, but Sols enhanced speed easily dodged the blow, at the same time he grabbed the lance with one hand and sent a burst of flame along its length, causing the Vicery to drop the weapon and the flames reached its grip. Without breaking stride Sol left into the air, using the furies of the air to take him higher than any normal jump anyone could accomplish. Landing on the other side of the Vicery he threw a heavy punch at one of its rear legs, enveloping his fist in flames as he did and using the furies to accelerate the punch to a unnatural speed. The impact took the leg clean off at one of the joints. The fury of Nesrins that had the form of an ape, took advantage of the Vicery distraction and following Sols lead ripped another of the beasts legs clean off. Sol kicked out a third leg with a vicious kick, causing the Vicery to collapse heavily to the ground.

Circling around to its front, Sol stared into its face. The Vicery glared back at Sol in what he fancied was a mirror of the look of wrath and disgust in which he now looked at the fallen creature with. The creature gave one last defiant below, but as it did so, Sol threw a spark into its open jaws and clenched his fist tight. The spark within the Vicerys head exploded into life, detonating the creatures head as it did. Sol stared at the remains with a grim look of satisfaction. Its death had been one of the most brutal he had inflicted upon any of his previous foes, yet he felt no remorse at it. Only more hate for its kind and the desire to kill them all.


----------



## Midge913

*Update #15*

Zacarish(Santaire): As you focus your furies on Adam's blade, you grab it between your thumb and forefinger near the hilt and slowly run your fingers down the blade from hilt to tip. As you do you feel small pieces of broken metal flake off and you feel the furies filling the small notches in the blade. The sword is well forged, but you can tell that it was not forged by a Tashiri Metal Walker. Using your abilities describe how you stengthen and manipulate the metal to give Adam's blade some of the same resilience of your own. When the task is complete you are sure that the blade will hold its edge much longer than it would have before, nowhere to the same extent as yours mind you, but Adam should have fewer problems in the future. As you hand Adam his blade, you hear Solomon cry out. You look over and find that he kneels next to the prostrate form of Sven and it is only then that you can feel the bond with the stalwart Dwarf diminshed. You watch as Nesrin rushes to Solomon's side were the two hold a quiet conference before closing their eyes and laying hands on the downed dwarf. You see no enemies to engage and there is nothing much that can be done until Sven is healed. What do you do? 

Adam(Serpion5): You watch Zacarish tend to your blade and you continue to contemplate the bond that you know share with your Qalm. As you do you can feel multiple emotions running across it from determination to rage. You have a hard time sorting out what all of the impressions mean, but as Adam returns your blade to you, a much improved edge upon it from his endeavors, you feel an odd sensation through the bond. Seconds later you hear Solomon cry out. You look over and find that he kneels next to the prostrate form of Sven and it is only then that you can feel the bond with the stalwart Dwarf diminshed. You watch as Nesrin rushes to Solomon's side were the two hold a quiet conference before closing their eyes and laying hands on the downed dwarf. You see no enemies to engage and there is nothing much that can be done until Sven is healed. What do you do?

Aalrik(apidude): You start collecting arrows and as you do you feel a deep aching tiredness in your limbs. This particular time was the longest you had ever maintained the barkskin ability and you can tell that it took a toll on your energy reserves. You are not bothered by it at this particular moment, but you can tell that when this is over you are going to want to sleep for several days. Of the 14 odd arrows that you fired into the battle you are able to retrieve 11(if my count is correct I beleive you have 20 of your own original shafts left). Do you decide to take some of the far inferior Vicery arrows that pepper the ground to fill out your quiver? As you work you feel a strange sensation through the bond and Seconds later you hear Solomon cry out. You look over and find that he kneels next to the prostrate form of Sven and it is only then that you can feel the bond with the stalwart Dwarf diminshed. You watch as Nesrin rushes to Solomon's side were the two hold a quiet conference before closing their eyes and laying hands on the downed dwarf. You see no enemies to engage and there is nothing much that can be done until Sven is healed. What do you do?

Isira(Jackinator): As you look around you see one of the Vicery archers, pierced twice by Aalrik's heavy arrows, still lives. Its breathing is ragged and it is unable to stand, but as you wander close its large heavy mandibles snap and click at you. Do you put the thing out of its misery, or do you let it die a long, slow, painful death? What ever your decision seconds after you make what ever action you decide upon you hear Solomon cry out. You look over and find that he kneels next to the prostrate form of Sven and it is only then that you can feel the bond with the stalwart Dwarf diminshed. You watch as Nesrin rushes to Solomon's side were the two hold a quiet conference before closing their eyes and laying hands on the downed dwarf. You see no enemies to engage and there is nothing much that can be done until Sven is healed. What do you do?

Sol(Angel of Blood): As you stand contemplating the immolated corpse before you, you can feel the raging fires of hatred burning in your breast. However, for the first time since you entered the tunnel you can feel another strange sensation. You feel fire. A quiet, steady burn, that feels off to you. YOu can't place it, but you know that something burns just down the main tunnel and to the left. You could swear that it was Fury fire, something created and maintained by constant fury manipulation, but it feels alien and unfamiliar. As you contemplate this strange sensation you feel an strange tremor in the bond with your Qalm Mates and you hear Solomon cry out. You look over and find that he kneels next to the prostrate form of Sven and it is only then that you can feel the bond with the stalwart Dwarf diminshed. You watch as Nesrin rushes to Solomon's side were the two hold a quiet conference before closing their eyes and laying hands on the downed dwarf. You see no enemies to engage and there is nothing much that can be done until Sven is healed. What do you do?

Robb(Lord Ramo): With a grunt of effort you and Solomon heave the dead Vicery off of the downed dwarf and you look on in horror as Sven stops breathing. Solomon throws himself at the wounded dwarf and you think that he has started healing him, but seconds later Solomon cries out, a wordless call of desperation and as if summoned there Nesrin appears at his side. _ "I will lead the healing young one,"_ he said, _"lend me your strength, though if there is any complicated delicate work to be done I will pass the lead to you, your skills are more able."_ Though it is said hurriedly you can tell that Nesrin respects Solomon's healing ability, and the two immediately begin to work on the wounded dwarf. You feel through teh bond that your connection with Sven is slowly diminishing, and you are not surprised when the great form of his fury, Asher, steps from the shadows of the tunnel, watching on. There is little that you can do to help your friend at the moment, but you feel the need to do something. Do you talk with the other Tashiri of your Qalm? Do you scout out ahead in the tunnel? What do you do?

Daruk(Deathbringer): The air carriage you are in soars through the open sky at a speed that suggests the Tashiri Aria carrying the thing are making haste to their destination. You have been told very little about what is going on, but immediately after passing your trials to gain full status as a Tashiri warrior you were shuffled off to the departure towers and loaded into an awaiting vessel. YOu were told that there were several Qalms out in the field, engaged in a fierce battle with the insectiod Vicery, and that they needed what reinforcements could be mustered on short notice. Looking around the carriage you see that there are 6 other individuals with you who all look out the windows in nervous trepidation of the task ahead. What are you thinking and feeling? Obviously the situation must be dire indeed for you new recruits to be thrown directly into the conflict, but does this bother you? Do you look forward to meeting your Qalm, and to the action that you are sure to find in the Vicery Hive? The journey is much shorter than you anticpated it being, and soon the air carriage begins to decend.

Pagan(Brother Malleus): Slowly you begin to raise out of blackness, the light stabbing your eyes as your lids slowly open despite the fact that it is dim firelight. Your shoulders are screaming in pain, and you find that despite the heat you are not sweating and your mouth and eyes are incredibly dry. As you finally regain enough conciousness to take in your surroundings you find that you are in some sort of underground chamber and that you are incircled in a ring of fire that makes the small cavern feel like an oven. If this wasn't bad enough you find that you are suspended several inches of the ground. A heavy rope is looped through an iron ring that has been driven into the ceiling and despite any efforts you may make, finding that movement causes the pain in your head to flare, you are unable to touch the ground. You are garbed only in your ivory pants, but looking around you can see a ragged pile of article s in the corner that you recognize as your own. How is Pagan reacting to his situation? Fear, determination, rage? To your frustration every time that you reach for your furies you find that you are unable to make contact with them. Your feet dangle above the earth, and the baking inferno around you has robbed your body of moisture. It seems that someone has gone through great lengths to keep you imprisioned. What do you do? You feel that you may be able to make one last telepathic attempt at contact before you are completely unable to use any of your abilities, do you try it? You also wonder what happened ot the rest of your Outrider team, do they still live? Despite your efforts it seeams that you must wait for rescue. 

***​ 
All (except Daruk & Pagan): As the healing progresses, you all can see, if you are close enough, that Nesrin and Solomon are taxing their abilities to the utmost to bring Sven back from the brink of death. He seems to regain a bit of color, but that is all. You don't wish to disturb their efforts but Sol you really start to think that the source of the odd fire is something that needs to be investigated. Those of you with Wind Affinity feel the manipulations of Air furies outside of the cavern and if you investigate you will find a Tashiri Air Carriage setting down in front of the tunnel entrance. The Tashiri Aria that carry the carriage stay put, but 7 people pile out of the carriage. 3 of them go running off to the east, 4 take off at a jog aroud the west, and you all assume that they are going to join the other Qalms in their assaults. The leader of the Tashiri Aria approaches you, along with a heavily armored dwarf, and as he closes in he says, _"Where is Nesrin? I have new orders and reinforcements from the Talasariat."_ What do you all do? How do you react to the new arrivals? 

Daruk(Deathbringer): As the carriage touches down, the leader of the Tashiri Aria sticks his head into the compartment and begins to issue orders to the occupants inside. He tells you that you are going to be assigned to a Hetat by the name of Nesrin, and that you are to follow him while the rest of the Tashiri present are sent off to other areas. Following along behind him, you see that Vicery bodies lay everywhere, and that the members of the Qalm, a wood elf, two Dark Elves, a High Elf, and two humans seem to be wandering through the battle field in the tunnel. They all look like they have seen their fair share of action in the last several hours. You also see that there is a small cluster of individuals on the ground just into the shadows of the tunnel itself, making them hard to identify. So this is to be your Qalm, do you introduce yourself to them? What do you think of their appearances? Obviously they are capable, seeing the number of enemy corpses, does this releieve any tension or apprehension you may have been feeling? Or is Daruk just glad to get his blade into the fight.


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## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

Zacarish` work was immaculate, the blade of the scimitar was sharper than Adam would have ever managed to accomplish had he sharpened it traditionally. Weaving it through the air in a few practice strokes and swings, he smiled before sheathing it and nodding his gratitude to the elf metalwalker. 

At that moment, a ripple of sensation swept through him emanating from the others of the qualm or perhaps just one of them... it was becoming difficult to tell as the constant influx of emotions and thoughts began to swirl and become part of his own being. 

The source of this disturbance was made apparent moments later as Nesrin and Solomon both knelt over the downed form of Sven. The dwarf had been wounded during the fighting and with his fading presence over the bond, the old Adam resurfaced, the cynic and emotional void. 

He withdrew as much as he was able, not from genuine detachment but from a wish not to be a distraction to the healing work. 

He sincerely hoped that Nesrin and Solomon would be able to save Sven, but at the same time accepted the fact that they may very well lose one of their qualm here and now. Only **** remained completely in touch with his mind and she in turn had not diminished her contact with the others. As his gaze panned across her, her eyes narrowed slightly and she cocked her head slightly. He knew that look...

'Don`t judge me, ****.' He muttered softly, not intending anyone else to hear. 'To think that this wasn`t inevitable is naive at best. This is tragic and I do hope for the best, but I will also resign myself to the facts if I must. We`ve both seen enough death to know that idealism is a waste of time.' 

Adam knew that **** would be growling if she possessed the vocal capacity, but her anger was stowed moments later as the fury currents began to stir. He recognized it as a similar sensation to earlier, when he had been aboard the air carriage. 

_Someone else can see to that..._ He thought, turning to face the rear of the cave...


----------



## Santaire

Zacarish rubbed his finger and forefinger down the length of the blade. It was good steel but not forged by a metalwalker and so no where near as resilient as his current sword but it was still a fine blade. Furies were awakened by his hand movements and slowly filled in the notches and dents of Adam's sword. Zacarish opened himself to the furies and they came to him where he then channeled them into the blade. It was almost as if the metal was part of him and he was merely siphoning it off. It was tiring and, when at the peak of exhaustion, it sometimes felt as if his soul was being drained away but he knew this was not true, just his mind trying to cope with something it did not understand.

Once the work was done he handed the blade to Adam. It was keener and stronger than it had ever been but still not as strong as a sword forged solely through the power of a metalwalker. Zacarish accepted Adam's nod and spoke, saying "Your sword will be sharper and tougher than ever before however if you wish I will forge you a new one once we have returned to the temple." He sensed the pain of Sven and turned to see Nesrin and Solomon crouched over the injured earthwalker. Even from where he was standing Zacarish could see Sven was at the brink of death and knew that he could do nothing to help.

Then a ripple in the air furies caught his attention and he turned to the cave mouth, walking next to Adam who seemed to have retreated into his own small world. He noticed an air carriage had set down. From it leapt 7 people, 3 going to the east, 4 to the west. They paused and looked at the members of Zacarish's Qalm who had emerged from the tunnel. They must have been a sight to see. Not a single one of them had got through the fight without getting covered in blood and more than a few of them had been wounded while Sven was at death's door.

Zacarish himself looked like a demon come from hell to snatch the souls of the living with his blood covered armour, coal black skin and blood red eyes. The leader of the Tashiri Aria that had carried the carriage approached them with a heavily armoured dwarf. The Tashiri spoke as he neared them. _"Where is Nesrin? I have new orders and reinforcements from the Talasariat."_ He barked. Zacarish spoke up with "He is in the mouth of the tunnel, however he and another of our Qalm are engaged in a serious healing and it would be best not to disturb them..."


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## Angel of Blood

He stared down at the immolated corpse he had just created. He felt no guilt, no sorrow, nothing to indicate what he had just done was perhaps over the top or overly brutal. He only felt rage, a burning hate deep within his breast as if his very heart had turned into one of the fireballs he so often conjured. There was barely anything left to identify what the Vicery in front of him once was, so total was the inferno he had caused to surge through its body. But amongst the rage and hate he detected something else, something new and strange. Fire. Subtle and distant, but fire all the same, not natural fire either, but manipulated, much like the fire he utilised himself, yet still distinctly different and it was coming from down the tunnel. He felt irresistibly drawn to it and began to walk towards the main tunnel. 

As he did so though he felt the tremble in his bond with the Qualm and looked over to see the prone form of Sven on the ground. He didn't need to her Solomons shout or even see the grievous injuries on Svens body. He could feel Svens bond failing, slowly fading away as his life did as well. Solomon and Nesrin desperatiy went to work on the injured dwarf, trying to bring him back from the brink of death.

He knew he should stick with the Qualm, see if Sven would pull through or fade away. But the draw of the fire was still there and he couldn't help but go to it. Saying nothing to the rest of them Sol slowly made his way down the tunnel, instinctively following the strange sensation to its source. He knew he should alert the others, that he shouldn't even be going to investigate it so rashly and carelessly, but something stopped him from following his normal train of thought. He cast one final glance back to the group and then disappeared down into the tunnel.


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## Jackinator

*Isira*

The fight was over, dead Vicery lay around the tunnel opening, bodies twisted and broken. It was a scene of utter carnage. One Vicery lay near here, pierced by two arrows, as she approached the great carcass it turned it's head, struggled to rise, to fight, to defend the nest. It sank back, the effort too much, it could do no more than lie there and click at her, it's heavy mandibles snapping open and shut as obvious pain clouded it's alien eyes.

She stared at it for a moment, tempted to walk away and leave it. Then, sighing she drew her blade. Laying one hand on her enemies forehead, she whispered, "you fought well, die knowing you did your duty well." With that she rested the tip of the rapier at the point where it's torso plates interlocked, before pushing it through quickly and smoothly. The mandibles went limp as the light faded from it's eyes. She stood and wiped the blade before returning it to the sheath.

As she turned she heard Solomon cry out, seeing him cross to kneel beside the fallen form of Sven. It was only as she saw his broken body that she noticed the Sven's presence in the bond, or rather the lack of it, she had to concentrate to still feel him at all. Nesrin rushed to join Solomon, they held a whispered conversation before both closed their eyes and pressed their palms to the dwarf. She looked away, she hadn't really had the proper time to know the dwarf but he had seemed a stalwart companion, the kind who would give his life for the Qalm, as he may very well have done now. She hardened her heart against it, she'd grown up alone, the few who had protected her were often dead soon and she had grown to expect it, even in this. The days of training had softened her perhaps and for one so stalwart and grounded as Sven to be injured so badly so soon did not spell well.

As she turned away from the three on the floor she caught sight of Sol. He was moving away from the group, further into the tunnel, a defiant rage characterising his steps. He glanced quickly back at the group before he disappeared into the darkness. She called after him "Sol, wait." They had already lost one member of the Qalm, she wouldn't leave another to rush headlong into danger by himself. Without a second though she broke into a run, maybe she could catch up with him before he got too deep into the hive...


----------



## apidude

*Aalrik Faengoed - Wood Elf - Wood Walker*

Aalrik leaned over to pick up an arrow and stumbled, light headed. He leaned on his bow, until the dizziness passed. He felt tired to his core. He felt the first tendrils of an ache in his head which in many ways felt like a hangover.

"Hmmmmm..... well, I know there is one thing I need to work on," he thought "endurance. Holding Barkskin that long drained me." 

He stayed there for a few minutes, letting the tiredness make itself felt. He embraced it while he looked around at the rest of his Qalm and then began to push it smaller and smaller, collecting it and compressing it behind a wall of will. Gradually, the ache subsided and he felt himself drawing on reserves that had not yet been tapped. The tiredness was there, he felt its echo but it was separate and no longer controlling his body.

"I'm going to pay for this, later," he thought wryly, "when I take the wall down and let myself feel it. But that can't be helped. I need to be able to function." 

He leaned forward and pulled on another of his arrows from the carapace of one of his enemies. The Tashiri forged arrowhead had sliced through the hard chitin armor but had wedged itself in the creatures armored back plates from the inside. Grunting, he grabbed the arrow with both hands and pulled. It snapped loose with a loud crack. He wiped it off using the desert sand and replaced it in his quiver. He had lost nearly a third of his arrows. 

He picked up one of the shafts the Vicrey had fired and inspected it. It was shorter than his shafts by about a hand length and significantly lighter. He could fire it but it would not be as accurate as his shafts. He would have to compensate. He felt for the furies of the shaft...and stopped, shocked. It had no wood furies. It was not made of wood but of the same chitin that the Vicrey grew as its outer armor. It felt alien and unnatural. Experimentally he nocked one of the chitin shafts to his bow and drew. He would only be able to draw his bow about 70% of its full draw. He loosed the arrow and watched as it blurred into the shrub that was his target. It drifted, its lighter weight caught by the light breeze, missing the spot he had targeted by several inches. 

Yes, he would have to compensate. But then he smiled grimly. He would be sending the enemies death back to him.

As he gained control over his body and finished restocking his quiver, he became aware that all was not well with the rest of his fighting unit. Sven, indomitable as a mountain, was on the ground surrounded by a pool of blood. Aalrik felt his connection with the Dwarf fading...

... Nesrin and Solomon laid their hands on the dwarf and Aalrik felt the flickering connection with the Dwarf's soul grow a bit stronger.... but it was still weak....

Aalrik moved to the healers, wondering if there was anything he could do to help. None of his fury control could help feed their energy so he concentrated on that small connection he felt with the Dwarf. He knelt next to the healers and concentrated on trying to strengthen it. 

It probably wouldn't help, but maybe the Dwarf would feel it and draw courage and will from it and respond....

.


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## Midge913

*Solomon Lok*

Robb beat Solomon, rushing to Sven's aid, the swordsman's sheer speed and strength far outmatching his own. With a flick of his blade the Metal Walker severed the large beasts mandibles from its head, narrowly missing Sven's arm, though his strike was swift and sure, before plunging his blade through the things head as it released the unconcious dwarf. Solomon's breath caught in his throat as he reached out to Sven's mind and found nothing but empty blackness, the barest spark of life still present. Whatever Robb had said was lost on him as he slid to a stop next to the Dwarf's prone form, hands pressing against the wound in his shoulder in an attempt to stem the flow of blood. As if sensing his urgency he felt his furies swell up and into Sven's form, pulling moisture from the ground beneath them as they came, slowly forming a shallow pool around the dwarf. He reached out into Sven's mind, his senses questing as he searched for the tiniest trace of his being. It seemed as if Sven's life force wished the end to come as it receeded away from his touch, growing ever fainter, but he would not let it. With an effort of will he caused his furies to stimulate all the muscles in the dwarf's body all at once, forcing Sven's heart to beat and his lungs to inhale. He sent his own thoughts into the warrior's mind, calling like a beacon to lead Sven's conciousness back, stubbornly willing his Qalm mate not to die. Though it felt like ages, weathering the storm of pain and exhaustion that was flooding through his link with the dying dwarf, it was but a mere matter of seconds. He knew that he would not be able to do what was needed. His power and control not up to the task that Sven's injuries presented. He cried out, wordlessly, a peal of rage and frustration, unable to lend any strength to the task of summoning aid, all his concentration on keeping the stalwart Sven from succombing to death. 

Then a presence, both beside him and in his mind appeared, an anchor amongst the tide of pain and anguish that threatened to carry his mind away. Nesrin knelt next to the dwarf, placing two fingers on Sven's forehead, his face twisted in a grimace of pain at the contact. His blazing green eyes turned and locked onto Solomon's, _"I will lead the healing young one,"_ he said_, "lend me your strength, though if there is any complicated delicate work to be done I will pass the lead to you, your skills are more able."_ Solomon experience a brief moment of fierce pride, so alien to him, that his Hetat regarded his skills so highly, before the sensation of Nesrin's furies stirring within Sven drew his whole attention. He felt Nesrin open the connection that would allow him to meld his furies power with his Hetat's, and immediately he concentrated on the force of those furies. So much stronger than his own, and that surprised him. His skill in Water Walking one talked about in the halls of the Talisariat. His respect for his leader grew evermore as the big man began the work of returning Sven to health. He could feel Nesrin's concern for the dwarf, radiating out from him, and he could barely feel the man calling on furies of the other elements to aid him in their task. As they worked the bond with Sven strengthened, and after what seemed like an age he could hear the Dwarf's thoughts. Hope flared in his breast as he poured more of himself into the healing, the fact that he felt so connected to his Qalm mate strange but comfortable. After so many years of solitude it was as if his soul craved the companionship that had been thrust upon him. As Nesrin worked he knew that that Sven would recover. With that in mind he once more turned his concentration back to the task at hand.


----------



## Lord Ramo

Robb moved out of the way of the stricken dwarf, knowing that he would be in the way if he stayed too close to the healing. While he did really want to apologize to Solomon, it would have to wait till later, the talented water Tashiri having to concentrate solely on Sven, to ensure that he would live. Nesrin rushed over, Robb stepping out of his way, knowing that he would be crucial in the healing process if Sven was to live.

“We are going to need Sven if we want to continue on with our objective, his earth abilities make him invaluable to us.” He muttered to himself as he walked towards where the rest of the Tashiri had assembled. Aalrik moved towards the healers, trying to lend what little strength he had to help with the healing process. 

Zacarish and Adam were together, firstly repairing Adams blade then moving towards a new group of arrivals. That intrigued Robb and he made his way towards them. However before he reached them, he saw out of the corner of his eye Isira break off in a run down a side tunnel. Robb cursed as he realized Sol wasn’t with the group either. 

“Adam, Zacarish, where have the others gone? We should await Nesrins orders, whether to follow them or not.” He said, hand dropping to his blade instinctively.

While it was a bad idea for the squad to split, it would be an even worse idea if they did it further, he was sure that if they got into any real danger, he and the rest of the qualm would feel it, and would be able to find them in time. However for now he was content to stay, knowing that they would be moving on soon.

Sol and Isira wouldn’t stray to far from the rest of the qualm, they were not idiots, and should return soon enough. He turned his attention back to the new arrivals, watching them.


----------



## deathbringer

The carriage rattled and rocked, the rush of air by the windows little to ease the discomfort of the dwarf that curled within the cornor of the carriage, face torn apart by a small grimace. His stomach launched and lurched, the haste of the driver evident even as the airwarker catalpulted them across a sky of startling blue.

Daruk with uncomfortable the lack of ground beneath his fault foreign and unnatural, what man was meant to walk the stars, if the twisted lords of the heavens had meant them to rocket across the skys, he would have given them wings.

Nay he felt vulnerable, the earth beneath him spoke to his soul, the firmness beneath his feet, lending strength to the short stocky frame it supported, to have it torn away felt was like a thousand enemies plucking the weapons from his hands.

A low snort of irritation slipped through his lips as the carriage dropped into a hasty descent, stomach left meters above him, yet even the distressing travel conditions could not suppress the ripples of excitement, the tremendous rush of adrenaline that twitched his lips in a low smile.

Playtime was over, war had begun, the slabs of muscle that laced his stocky frame tensed even as he ran a finger up the haft of his axe. He would show them how good he was, he was a warrior first and foremost, a champion of the people.

Lethal.

The smirk was wiped from his face as the carriage hit the ground with a muffled thud and he snarled low curses as he was thrown forward, yet the leader of their group seemed trouble his orders barked and short, evidentally the reinforcements were vital and suddenly it became evident why amongst them all, he had been placed upon these carriages.

He was a warrior, battle his forte, his experience nigh on unparalleled amongst the fresh recruits, aye he was a logical choice for the front line, yet the others, sallow and nervous, so fresh so young, how many would survive?

He would not trust them at his back, untrustworthy, what he would give for 3 dwarves, for his left and his right and his flank, bah they would tear through the enemy, like a knife through flesh.

His qalm awaited, a name given too him though he paid it little heed, his leader, most definitely not dwarven caused his brow to furrow yet he followed without comment, happy to have ground upon his feet, to feel the earth.

Even as he walked the furies called to him, sung to him, the very earth, shrieking a story of old travels, yet mostly they called in triumph, undercoated with sorrow and sadness.

Blood had seeped into the earth, victorious screams and cries shouting of enemies killed their bodies torn asunder, their blood fed the soil, yet the shrill weeping and calling told him yet more, earthwalker blood, a kindred was wounded, he let out a slight gasp, perhaps, the words blew from his lips in a low growl

"Earthwalker blood sows the soil"

His guide looked at him with dim surprise yet he did not deign to respond though his pace increase, figures clad in ivory quickly coming into view. Tall figures wandering amongst fallen corpses, the pure white of their robes spattered with gore and blood, they wondered aimlessly, the battle evidently all but done.

Yet no dimunitive stocky frame appeared in their midst and Daruk gave a low growl. To be alone amongst tricksters and cowards, bah.

Yet the corpses showed good account for themselves, but who knew what devious means they had used to stay alive, those without honor tended to slip away from blades only to plunge a knife in your back.

They were blooded together, he was indeed an outsider, one added but not accepted, not bonded to the qualm, difficult, to fight from a disadvantage, to be forced to gain their respect. His brow furrowed as he looked over them, his thoughts so suddenly disturbed by a voice

"Where is Nesrin? I have new orders and reinforcements from the Talasariat."

Within ear shot his guide called out and some turned to glance upon him others continued in their activities, though one deigned to respond, tall and slender, features almost demonic punctured by eyes like blood red rubies.

"He is in the mouth of the tunnel, however he and another of our Qalm are engaged in a serious healing and it would be best not to disturb them..."

With a fleeting glance at the daemon they moved, on their pace slowing even as they looked into the tunnel, figures crowded around a single dimunitve body, who lay deathly still even as they worked upon him and Daruk felt a sudden conviction

"There is a reason i am here, this is not coincidence" he growled to the world at large, if he died he was there to perform the burial rights, to commend his soul to the gods. 

His stride became more purposeful even as he pushed towards the healers, armour clanking, even as the earth walker came to focus, his face drawn, eyes closed.

10 meters away from his head he stopped, and called out in a low command, the command of a leader to his warriors, his voice in the guttaral tongue of the dwarves

"Brother of the earth, your work is not done, the heavens do not accept you, rise and fight like you are born to do,"


----------



## Midge913

*Update #16*

Adam(Serpion5): As you turn to the rear of the cave you happen to see a flash of movement disappearing down a side tunnel. You reach for your weapons, just as you hear Robb's statement that several of the Qalm were missing and wondering if you should await Nesrin's orders. At the mention of the large man you turn back to the corner where the healing was taking place and you see that Nesrin is getting to his feet. He makes eye contact with you and nods in the direction of the mouth of the cave where a tall man stands speaking with Zacarish. It seems that Nesrin wants you to join him there to see what the new arrival has to say. 

Zacarish(Santaire): Taking in your statment the man looks to the corner that you indicated and his face twists in concern and obvious empathy for Sven and your Qalm. The strangely armored dwarf that accompanied him stalks off to where Sven lies without a word and the man watches him go with a look of skepticism before turning back to you, _"It seems that I arrived just in time. The other Hetats of the assault group requested reinforcements already and I believe that they have already taken heavy losses. The dwarf is to join your Qalm with Nesrin's approval and I must speak with him before I depart."_ Several minutes of tense silence go by between the two of you while the man, who has yet to introduce himself, stares in to the corner where Nesrin still kneels at Sven's side, before he tenses next to you. With a nod of his head he gets your attention and directs your gaze back to that area. You see Nesrin getting to his feet, exchange a few words with both Aalrik and the newly arrived Dwarf, before walking in your direction, wiping the blood from his hands with a clean rag taken from a beltside pouch. 

Robb(Lord Ramo): Your comments are met with silence as as you approach Zacarish, though the tall man that he is speaking to nods his approval at your statement. The tall man, who bears the sash of a Hetat, looks in the direction where the healing is taking place and following his gaze you see that Nesrin is rising to his feet and walking in your direction, the rest of the members of the Qalm filtering in under Nesrin's direction. Since you were closest to the healing, barring the ones right there, you see that Sven's color is much better and that the wounds in his shoulders seem to be closed. Relief floods through you as you realize, though Solomon is still ministering him, that your friend is going to survive. 

Aalrik(Apidude): As you meditate, you feel that the bond with Sven grows stronger as your Hetat and Solomon work with their furies on his fallen form. Focusing on the bond you feel it growing steadier and you are certain that the Dwarf is going to survive. You are startled from your reverie by a deep unfamiliar voice that barks out an unmistakable command, but in a language that you dont understand. Opening your eyes you see a heavily armored dwarf, a bit paler in complexion than Sven, standing closeby. You see Sven twitch slightly as the newcomer speaks, but you are unsure what to make of this new arrival. He wears the ivory and sash of a Tashiri, but you are unsure where he came from or why he is here. Looking over you see Nesrin slowly stand, obviously weary, but with a small smile on his face, he exchanges a few words with the dwarf in the guttural language that the dwarf spoke before. He turns to you and says, _"Come Aalrik, there appears to be news from the Talasariat."_ With a nod of his head in the direction of the mouth of the cave you see an air carriage waiting outside, and a tall man, speaking with Zacarish, apparently waiting for Nesrin standing nearby. 

Daruk(Deathbringer): As your statment comes to a close you can see that the Dwarf on the ground twitches slightly, and his fists open and close as if looking for his weapon. The large man that sits at his head opens his eyes and looks over at you, standing as he does. It appears that the majority of the healing is completed, and the Dwarfs color looks better and though he is still wan looking, there are no obvious wounds on him. The smaller of the two men remains at the Dwarfs side, hands still on his chest, obviously still concentrating on his downed companion. Standing to his full height he stands almost 3 feet taller than you forcing you to crane your neck upwards. He takes you in with his piercing green eye befor bowing slightly at the waist, left arm crossed across his chest gripping his right shoulder and greets you in Dwarvish, _"Welcome warrior of the deep realms. May your axe stay sharp and your hearthfire never go out." _ The fact that he greets you in the traditional manner for interclan meetings surprises you but before you can answer he asks,_ "What is your name, from what clan do you hail from, and what is your purpose here?"_ He waits for your answer, before nodding in understanding. He turns to the Wood elf seated on the ground nearby and in common beckons him to follow. He does the same to you. What are your impressions of your new Hetat, because when he stands to full height you see the purple sash of rank at his waist? You can tell by the furies that coalesce around him that he is powerful in Earth and Fire, much stronger than you are? Does that fact, coupled with the respect he showed for your traditions and race sway your opinion of him? 

Adam(Serpion5): Zacarish(Santaire), Robb(Lord Ramo):, Aalrik(Apidude), and Daruk(Deathbringer): As you all gather around the yet un-named Hetat, Nerin joins you and as he approaches the new comer he holds his hand out in greeting. The tall man, though Nesrin is still larger, clasps his hand with a grim smile as Nesrin says,_ "Toman, welcome old friend, what news from the Talisariat?"
_
Toman shakes his head as he replies, _"I am not the bearer of happy news Nesrin. The other Hetats requested aid and we just happened to be enroute to you with fresh recuits. It seems that they have been met with the heaviest resistance at the other assault points and they have already taken heavy losses. Not only this but Opun has sent word of a massive incursion of Naggarond. My Qalm and I are to head there as soon as our business is concluded. The Radan is slowly becoming convinced that something is stirring our old foes into this current state of activity. Something is brewing old friend, I can feel it in my bones. Something new is stirring in the dark lands." _As you all ponder what he means by this, Toman straightens his leather armor and turns to leave saying, _"Daruk there is newly assigned to your Qalm, as I am sure he has already told you. You are going to need all the help you can get my friend." _With that he takes to the sky, the rest of the Tashiri Aria with him following suit. 

Nesrin looks around and sees that Sven is getting to his feet. He appears to be chewing on something and you are all amazed that he is standing, let alone moving with purpose. Taking a count Nesrin notices that Sol, Isira, and Belak are all missing and he inquires of them (Ramo I am going to take some license here and assume that you answer the question). Upon hearing this Nesrin closes his eyes and signs in resignation, but his eyes snap open quickly as if he has felt something out of the ordinary and stares down the tunnel that the rest of the Qalm left by. Daruk, now that your interest is piqued, you can feel something strange, like fury enhanced fire deep down the hallway and you see that Djinn the wiry human is also staring down in that direction. 

Nesrin shoulders his axe and takes off at a brisk pace,_ "Introductions are going to have to wait I am afraid. There is trouble, something amiss. Stay sharp and watch each others backs." _ With that he takes off down the tunnel in pursuit of the other members of the Qalm.

***​
Pagan(Brother Malleus): You need to post for last update. Nothing much changes for you save you whatever message you tried to send you are unsure if it made contact with anyone. Slowly the heat and pain from hanging were you are, coupled with the dehydration that you are suffering from causes you to black out. [Just as a word of warning if I dont see a post in response to this update, or I don't get a message from you regarding where you are or if you are still interested in participating in the RP, I will most likely kill Pagan off]

Sol(Angel of Blood): The further that you walk down the tunnel the faster you start moving. Something is off about the sensation that you feel, it is fury work but it is something different. You cannot tell how or why, but the feeling you get is somehow off. You follow twists and turns within the tunnel, veering right and left almost at random following the trail like a bloodhound, ever getting closer to your quary. You feel that you are almost upon it when you collide with something in the middle of the hallway. Righting yourself quickly you find yourself face to face with a pair of Vicery Warriors, each picking themselves up off the ground, they stare at you in confusion before drawing their blades and rushing at you. There are only two of them and you have the jump on them, but all the same the fight could rouse an alarm, finish them quickly and quietly as they bar your way forward. 

Isira(Jackinator): You take off after Sol, but somehow he quickly looses you in the twists and turns of the tunnel ahead. You are suprised to find as you slow down after a moment to try and concentrate on the bound with the impulsive Fire Walker that Belak runs up next to you, panting as he tries to keep pace. He quickly says as he catches he breath, _"I don't think we should wander around alone. I have your back, lets go find Sol."_ You take a quick second to focus on the bond and you get a direction. Fixing the bond in your head as much as you can, it is still a strange sensation and an unfamiliar practice, you take off through the tunnels, Belak close behind you. After several minutes you hear the unmistakeable sound of steel being drawn, you feel a sharp shove from behind, and hear that clash of weapon on weapon. Righting yourself you see that Belak pushed you out of the way just in time as the Vicery blade now pinned to the stone wall by his own sword would have come down right on top of your head. From a side passageway, one you had not noticed in your concentration on the bond, emerge 4 Vicery Warriors. They won't prove to be too much of a challenge for you and Belak, but they bar your way from progressing further down the corridor. Deal with them quickly and as quietly as you can as the sound of a fight is sure to draw more of the insectoid menace. [Jackinator you kill two and Belak will take two. If you want to describe what Belak does you are more than welcome two, if it factors into how Isira acts, but I don't plan on making an individual post for Belak. You don't have to if you don't want to. Either way he will kill two]


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

Adam glared back at **** for several long moments, the battle wills occurring to him as extremely ironic as he was essentially battling what was a part of his own psyche. As luck would have it, **** represented the fierceness within his heart and was not likely to back down. 

'Enough.' He grumbled, dismissing the hawk with a gesture and trying to avoid her gaze as her form shimmered and vanished. The talon pendant around his neck glowed and burned slightly, almost manifest of her ire. 

_This is not over._ She warned. _You will have to confront this as surely as you confronted those beasts earlier._

_When did you become my voice of reason?!_ Adam retorted, unconsciously growling as he thought the words to himself. 

Seeking a distraction from the unpleasant struggle with himself, he turned back to see how the others were faring. Zacarish was a few metres away, greeting the newcomer even as Robb approached where he was standing.

*'Adam, Zacarish, where have the others gone?' * He asked, concerned but not worried. *'We should await Nesrins orders, whether to follow them or not.'*

'Sol? Isira? Belak?' Adam scanned the group, quickly discerning who was missing. 'What are those idiots thinking now. Damnit Sol.' There was no real evidence, but somehow Adam just knew that whatever reason the others had left, it had likely been Sol who made the decision.

As he turned back to Nesrin, the hetat was already getting to his feet. They met each others' gazes and Nesrin indicated the man Zacarish was talking to, instructing Adam to join the conversation. Biting back the irritation her felt, Adam nodded and complied.

Nesrin was there moments later, along with Rob, Aalrik and a newcomer dwarf who had presumably arrived with the hetat.

*'Toman, Welcome old friend!'* Nesrin greeted his fellow hetat. *'What news from the Talisariat?'*

Adam made a note of the man's name, Toman. He still did not know the name of the new dwarf but decided to find out when he could.

*'I am not the bearer of happy news Nesrin.'* Toman replied. *'The other Hetats requested aid and we just happened to be enroute to you with fresh recuits. It seems that they have been met with the heaviest resistance at the other assault points and they have already taken heavy losses. Not only this but Opun has sent word of a massive incursion of Naggarond. My Qalm and I are to head there as soon as our business is concluded. The Radan is slowly becoming convinced that something is stirring our old foes into this current state of activity. Something is brewing old friend, I can feel it in my bones. Something new is stirring in the dark lands.'* 

Adam was less than pleased to hear this. With the other members of the qualm off on their own, this news was doubly unpleasant. If Sol got those idiots with himself killed it would be one of the stupidest tragedies Adam would have known.

*'Daruk there is newly assigned to your Qalm, as I am sure he has already told you.'* Toman indicated the newcomer.

Daruk. His name is Daruk. Adam committed the name to memory, knowing that the bond between his fellow qualm members would not extend to the newcomer immediately if at all.

*'You are going to need all the help you can get my friend.'* Toman finished.

That seemed to be it, so Adam allowed himself to take a few steps back from the rest of the group. It was now that Nesrin noticed the missing members of the qualm, and following the reply from Robb seemed almost as exasperated as Adam was himself. 

But greater at that moment was the fact that Sven is not only awake, but on his feet. He seemed to be eating something and after a moment he remembered the orbs that Nesrin had given them earlier. 

*'Introductions are going to have to wait I am afraid.'* Nesrin's speech interrupted his thoughts before he could give voice to any questions. *'There is trouble, something amiss. Stay sharp and watch each others backs.'* Evidently he had senses something Adam had missed, and before the windwalker could ask anything further they were already moving. 

The fight was clearly underway, but how far down the tunnel was unknown. If they ran there they could be running for minutes, minutes that would make a difference. Was Nesrin reluctant to split the group further? It was possible, but the incident with Sven made Adam realize he did not wish to see any more of his qualm injured, not even the hot headed Sol.

'Nesrin!' Adam called. increasing his pace to pull alongside the hetat. 'I can be there in mere moments. If you wish it, every second counts! Just give me the order!' The wind furies were already swirling within him, ready to provide the energy that would allow him to traverse the tunnel in a matter of seconds, but he would not go yet, not without Nesrin's approval...


----------



## Midge913

Nesrin tunrs his gaze to you and seems to consider your request as the group surges forwards through the tunnels. So far you have taken two left turns and a right as you follow the Hetat's lead, seemingly at random, but Nesrin pushes forward with purpose and confidence. He finally shakes his head and says, _"No Adam. There is something wrong here, something stirs in this nest besides the Vicery. We stay as a group." _He remains silent for a few moments, silently running, before he says quietly, under his breath as if he did not know that he was speaking alound, you are the only one that can hear him. _"Can you not feel it? The furies are screaming...." _ You have no idea what Nesrin means by this. Try as you might all you can feel is **** and the furies of the other wind walkers, both ahead and behind. Regardless Nesrin's reaction and obvious agitation puts you even more on edge than you were before.


----------



## deathbringer

The dwarf below him spasmed, a contortion even as he choked slightly hand reaching out to his hip, clenching upon air as he reached for a weapon and Daruk let out a low hiss of relief, even as one of the healers looked upon him. 

Celestial orbs fixed upon him and he uncurled legs stretching till he stood feet above him, he took a step back still forced to crane his neck, resisting the urge to clutch his weapon.

A trickster could not be trusted, yet this was no ordinary man, a weight of wisdom rested in eyes that sparkled like emeralds glittering with the clarity of a sharp mind, somehow at odds with the weary burden of responsibility creased his brow. This must be Nesrin. His very presence spoke of a leader, his impression afirmed by a streak of purple across his waist

The sound of his mother tongue made his eyes widen momentarily taken aback, he let out a wolfish smile at the traditional greeting, his questions laced with polite curiosity

"Daruk son of Domun, earth and firewalker of the clan of Dwinhelven. My purpose, beyond polite conversation is the murder of those that threaten my people, as it has been since birth. We are here to reinforce you, yet i will not rob the Hetat that brought me here of his task."

Nesrin nodded, shrewd eyes boring into him even as he beckoned him to follow him, the conversation with the Hetat little that he did not know, though the Qualm around drank in his words, eyes turning to him.

Awkward silence caused the air to thicken, the Hetat's eyes closing then snapping open in the direction of the tunnel. Daruk felt it, furies of the flame dancing within rolling sheets of flame, a firewalker was under attack. He met the Hetat's gaze, noticing that another of their group too felt the sudden flare of heat.

"Introductions are going to have to wait I am afraid. There is trouble, something amiss. Stay sharp and watch each others backs." 

The hunger for battle was piqued a rush of exhileration yet he reigned in the desire to sprint, to tear forward, held on a leash by the Hetat's words. It would not do to appear unruly and ill disciplined so early on.

Battle sung to him even as he slipped his axe from the loop at his hip.

"Blood comes" he growled


----------



## Lord Ramo

Robb's comments to Zacarish and Adam were met with silence, though Zacarish did incline his head to show that he heard and understood Robb. Being quiet was fine by Robb, he was a little weary from the battle, and it would give him a small lull in which he could rest. Robb squated down, but kept his eyes fixed firmly on the new tall man, who wore the sash showing his position as a hetat.

Robb idly traced his finger in the Earth as he studied the man, intent on watching the healing that Nesrin and Solomon were preforming. Robb followed his gave to see his own hetat Nesrin, rising to his feet, obviously he had played his part in the healing and he headed over to the small group. Nesrin motions for the others to join him, and they all converge upon Robb's position.

Robb kept his eyes on Sven, and was relieved to see the colour returning to him, as well as the wound to his shoulder being closed by the healing process. Robb was glad that his friend would make it, it would be a lot easier to take the Vicery down if they had the powerful dwarf on their side. Nesrin greeted the other Hetat, asking for news on the others progress.

"I am not the bearer of happy news Nesrin. The other Hetats requested aid and we just happened to be enroute to you with fresh recuits. It seems that they have been met with the heaviest resistance at the other assault points and they have already taken heavy losses. Not only this but Opun has sent word of a massive incursion of Naggarond. My Qalm and I are to head there as soon as our business is concluded. The Radan is slowly becoming convinced that something is stirring our old foes into this current state of activity. Something is brewing old friend, I can feel it in my bones. Something new is stirring in the dark lands. Daruk there is newly assigned to your Qalm, as I am sure he has already told you. You are going to need all the help you can get my friend."

Robb stood as the hetat left, placing his wolf helm back on his head as he looked over at Nesrin for his command to move out. Things obviously weren't going well, which was a concern for the Tashiri. The fact that things had been set into motion outside their little battleground concerned Robb even more, and he was dying to go back and help defend it. Sooner the queen was dead the better, he thought to himself as Nesrin said there was no time for explanations, and the group moved off quickly.


----------



## Jackinator

Isira stumbled as she felt a sharp push from behind, followed by the clang of weapon on weapon. She regained her balance and turned, seeing a Vicery blade stuck against the wall, pinned there by Belak's own sword. He turned and thundered a fist into it's face bringing the sword round and thrusting it into the insectoids chest almost simultaneously.

Isira spun, her rapier whipping out and slitting the throat of another Vicery as it attempted to leap upon her from behind. Belak was already moving but the Vicery behind him brought it's sword down, only to be confounded as a blast of air bowled it over, it's head hit the tunnel wall with a sharp crack and it collapsed. Isira turned to smile at Belak, then frowned as he suddenly lunged at her, she felt a sharp pain pass along her neck, a Vicery sword protruding over her shoulder. Then the Vicery behind her fell slowly backwards, slain by Belak's blow.

She turned, then grinned at him, "that was close, thanks."


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## Santaire

When he realised Sol, Isira and Belak had all gone down the tunnel Zacarish almost sprinted down it himself. Only Nesrin’s quiet words stopped him. But they stopped him dead. "Can you not feel it? The furies are screaming...." Those words kept repeating themselves in his mind again and again as he tried to understand their meaning. Now he was nervous, very nervous. Furies were so closely intertwined with the power of Nature that they might as well be Nature. And if something was making them scream then charging down that tunnel as fast as he could might be the most stupid decision he ever made and might even be his last.

So he remained with his Qalm, as much as he hated to do so. His growl was barely audible but he knew Adam and Nesrin would have heard him as he stood beside both of them. “I did not come to the temple only to watch 3 people die, 1 of which whom has saved my life as I have saved hers.” He raised his head to Nesrin and his voice was loud and clear as he spoke. “The furies may be screaming but I do not wish to let their screams be challenged by the screams of my friends.” So with that he made his decision, turned and began to run down the tunnel…


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## Midge913

*Update #17*

Zacarish(Santaire): As you begin to bolt down the tunnel that they bond tells you is in the direction of where Sol, Isira, and Belak are, you feel for the briefest of seconds Furies of the air begin to roil around your feet. Your perception however is not enough to prevent what happens next and you find that your are held immobile in a dense trap of hardened air. As your thought process struggles to catch up you find that not even seconds pass before you are encased in solid living stone that has roiled up from the ground at your feet, covering you from foot to chin in solid stone. Oddly enough, your feel your ability to touch your own air furies diminish to the point that you are unable to to call on them for aide. You are completely astonished at the speed in which your entrapment happens, knowing full well the effort that goes into creating such a crafting. You try to turn your head to see behind you only to find that you cannot, the hardened shield of air preventing any movement on your part. Nesrin slowly walks into your line of vision and slowly walks up so that he is almost nose to nose with you, which forces him to stoop so that your eyes are level. Fury radiates from his massive frame and his startling green eyes seem to be a flame with rage as his piercing gaze locks on yours. _ "Since when youngling,"_ he begins his voice carefully controlled and quiet enough so that only you can hear,_"did you think that my orders were ones that could be disobeyed."_ The his voice quavers with barely controlled ire as he continues. _"I am more personable than the other Hetats are with their charges, but do not mistake that with weakness or that I will allow you to do what ever you want. You, who are barely a score in age, who has experienced nothing save what we have shown you.... No! Mind me youngling or I will leave you there, cooling your impetuous heels as a statue."_ Before you can answer he turns to the rest of the Qalm that is following along in his wake.

Aalrik(Apidude), Robb(Lord Ramo), Adam(Serpion5), Zacarish(Santaire), & Daruk(Deathbringer): All of you but Zacarish obviously watch the hushed interchange with interest, wondering how your Hetat is going to deal with the wayward and impetuous Wind Walker. You see Nesrin, obviously chastise Zacarish, though the anger filled words are too hushed to hear. He does however eventually turn to the rest of you, speaking loud enoug for all to hear. _"It seems that Zacarish felt that his rushed decision was more important then the orders I had given. Make no mistake younglings I am your battle leader and you will heed me when I speak. I entrust my charges with a certain amount of independence, but only because I feel that they have earned it progressing as far as you have in your training. It seems that I have been to leinent with some of you. How many times have you fought the Vicery, I would wager less than a dozen times, some of you this will make your second encounter. I have been fighting them for over 300 years, in hundreds of battles. Think you that your experience clouds my own?" _ Pushing on, obviously not wanting you to answer the question, he finishes,_"You. Will. Follow. My. Orders."_ Punctuating each word. _"It is my job to see to the good of the Qalm as a whole, not in part. We will reunite with our lost ones soon enough, but I will risk none of you to do so. Period." _ 

Turning to Zacarish he asks, _"Have I made my point youngling?"_ He waits long enough to hear Zacarish's reply, before breaking into a ground eating jog down the tunnel. _"Onward then, be on your guard. Aalrik, Robb, and Sven to the rear, watch our backs. We move quickly."_ [Santaire what whether you follow the rest of this update or not depends on how you answer Nesrin. PM me your response and I will tell you what additional stuff you need to include in your post.]

Following Nesrin through a series of twisting tunnels, you, save you Daruk, can feel that the other members of your Qalm are getting closer as you jog. However as you round as bend in one of the tunnels, Nesrin slows down as the tunnel empties into a larger cavern, similar to the one at the entrance. Tashiri Aria you can feel disturbances in the air above you and look up you see that that caverns ceiling is riddled with holes about the size of a barrel in diameter and as you enter a swarm of about 40 small Vicery looking creatures erupt from the tunnels above and swoop down upon you(they look like this but without the weapon and are about the size of a house cat). Their snapping mandubles and clawed feet going for exposed flesh and faces. Earth walkers you begin to feel heavy vibrations in the floor and galloping from a large side tunnel come two Guardian beasts(they look like this save a little les spikey, but still the are almost the size of a small elephant and the ground rumbles at their advance. Nesrin takes charge of the situation immediately bellowing orders, _"Aalrik & Djinn keep those flyers off our backs, the rest of you with me." _ He turns unlimbering his massive axe whose head bursts into flame. As he runs his Ape like Earth fury and his serpent like fire Fury burst out of the ground and come roaring out of his coal box respectively as he rushes the Guardian beasts ahead of him. 

Daruk(Deathbringer), Robb(Lord Ramo), Adam(Serpion5)& Zacarish(Santaire)(depending on the outcome of the conflict with Nesrin): These Guardian beasts are vicious opponents. Their thick hide makes edged weapons mostly ineffective. Zacarish and Adam remembering Hetat Aleanatin's advice regarding the Guardians do you begin to create a distraction, flying around and buffeting the creature that has no hope of catching you with blasts of air and strikes from your sword? Robb your expert skills find ****** to slide your blade through here and their but you are basically inflicting minimal damage on a beast that seams to be able to last a long time against the death by a thousand cuts method. Now being able to get to its eyes and head would inflict more damage, but you are going to need to work with another of the Qalm to make that happen. Daruk, glancing at Nesrin you see that the Guardian he pits himself against shies away from his flaming axe and the serpent of flame that Nesrin has manifested seams to cause it great fear as it keeps backing away from it only to be met by Nesrin's earth Fury. What do you do and what methods do you employ against the Guardian? Work together with Sven, Solomon, and Nesrin to battle the two Guardians to victory. [note you cannot kill them this update. Causing minor wounds is of course heartily encouraged, if you have some sort of plan to cause more damage get with me via PM or on MSN or Skype to discuss with me your plan. The 6 of you working together against the Guardians will be sufficient enough that unless you do something daringly stupid, you should pull out unscathed]

Aalrik(Apidude): As Nesrin issues you your orders you watch as Djinn calls forth a searing column of fire, vaporizing close to 10 of the winged pests that are trying to harry the group. This causes the others to retreat a bit giving you and the taciturn Fire Walker time to move around to the side of the room to get good clear shots at the flying menaces. Djinn begins lobbing accurate fireballs into the swarm, the flames quickly incinerating each wasp like creature it touches. Aalrik this is almost like shooting fish in a barrell for you. Each of your shafts blasting one of the creatures from the air. Thanks to your work the others are free to fight the guardians unhindered. [Apidude please include your post for the last update in this one.]

Sol(Angel of Blood):Sol you finish off the two Vicery with ease as they are slower to recover from their surprise than you are. As you finish them you are again compelled down the hallway into the third room on your right. what you find inside is described below. [Please include a post covering last update as well as this one.] 

Sol(Angel of Blood) & Isira(Jackinator): Isira as you and Belak regroup after your small skirmish you hear the sounds of battle further down the hallway and your bond tells you that Sol is close. As you two round the corner you see Sol finishing off the last of the two Vicery Warriors that he had encountered, but before you are able to speak with him he takes off again down the hallway. He takes a quick right and as you approach as well and enter the room you can feel the heat radiating out from the room. In the chamber you see a man, hanging by the ceiling, suspended several inches off of the floor. Around him is a ring of fire that seems to be what has caugh Sol's attention. The man, dressed in the ivory of a Tashiri is clearly dead. He is not damp from sweat despite the heat in the room that soon causes you to perspire and you assume that he died of dehydration. Along the wall you find a small pile of personal items, including the red sash of a Tashiri warrior. None of you recognize him, but the fact that he is Tashiri, and obviously incapacitated and dead. Puts your nerves on edge. Isira how do you feel and how do you react to what you see? Sol what about you? Additionally Sol as you gaze into the flame you can tell that it has been called forth by a Fury Crafter of some kind. However the Furies seem to be screaming in pain as you focus harder on the flames. YOu begin to realize that they have been tortured and forced to do the crafters bidding as opposed to the symbiotic relationship that the Tashiri share with their furies. Do you tell Isira and Belak about this? How does Sol react to this startling development. 

Pagan(Brother Malleus): Sorry mate, but Pagan is no more. Due to lack of participation Pagan has died of dehydration.


----------



## Serpion5

As the group prepared to leave to go after Sol and the others, Adam was a little perturbed at Nesrin's refusal to let him go ahead. It was not the windwalker's decision to make in the end however and he respected the word of his hetat. 

Zacarish however, was seemingly less willing to hold himself back and prepared to sprint ahead heedless of Nesrin's orders. Adam was prepared to join him in this endeavor until the consequences became apparent. The wind furies reacted to the call of a powerful tashiri, and it was neither Zacarish nor Adam controlling them. If the elf tried to overpower them he failed, for it became apparent moments later that Nesrin was taking control of the air. Zacarish was frozen in place as they stopped moving forward, the hetat alone approached him and spoke a few presumably terse words into his ear. 

He then turned to the rest of them. *'It seems that Zacarish felt that his rushed decision was more important then the orders I had given.'* He said, clearly irritated at the elf's defiance. *'Make no mistake younglings I am your battle leader and you will heed me when I speak. I entrust my charges with a certain amount of independence, but only because I feel that they have earned it progressing as far as you have in your training. It seems that I have been to leinent with some of you. How many times have you fought the Vicery, I would wager less than a dozen times, some of you this will make your second encounter. I have been fighting them for over 300 years, in hundreds of battles. Think you that your experience clouds my own?'*

The question was pointed and aimed at all of them but his stern expression invited no answers. 

*'You, will, follow, my, orders!'* he spoke again, underlining each word and making sure they all understood. *'It is my job to see to the good of the Qalm as a whole, not in part. We will reunite with our lost ones soon enough, but I will risk none of you to do so. Period.' *

It was undoubtedly harsh, made more so by the fact that he had indeed been lenient in the past, but Adam could not deny the authority and power behind his words now. Nesrin turned back to Zacarish, giving one last assertation of his authority before ordering the qualm onwards. 

--- --- ---




ooc: there is more to come.


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## deathbringer

Marshaling his haste seemed to be a well judged move, another more impetuous allowed the leash of his temper to fray, earth furies laughing and twirling as they seized his body in stone, wrapping around his limbs clutching him tightly.

The hetat riled, striding forward to face the trapped warrior with flaming eyes and a brutal tongue. The words were soiled by barely contained rage, a sheep dog, nudging its flock with brutal efficiency til they bent to his will, danced to his tune.


The interruption left a bitter tang in daruk's mouth, his axe edgy as he tossed it from hand to hand, crouched as his mind wandered from the confrontation before him to the dark maw of the tunnel ahead, the blackness of the unknown leaving him twitching, adrenaline pumping yet held in place by the booming thunder of Nesrin's words.

Not one to be taken lightly, one glance of the windwalkers head twitching from within the pillar of stone told him that.

Their progress henceforth was in silence, a faint glow of anger radiating from Nesrin and Daruk was forced to follow, herded in amongst the others, the nagging sense of their brethrens location, painfully absent within him, a nagging reminder of the seperation between them. Unblooded and untried, they knew so little, his hands were soaked in blood.

Foes came sooner than he expected, the cry of guardians meaning little to him, the great monstrosities bearing great grabbing claws foreign behemoths that towered above him.

He was already moving axe switching from left hand to right, even as he flowed forward, a small boulder tearing along behind Nesrin even as others took to the skies.

The hetat was bounding forward with long loping strides, and Daruk could feel the furies, his furies burning within, a long stream of flame scything through the air, a great serpent that seemed to ooze seemlessly over the ground, even as it erupted, great loping arms streamed with earth even as they beat at the creatures chest, before springing forwards after the serpent with a long loping gate. 

Such power was an elixir, Daruk's pace increasing, the whirling energy of the furies, sweeping round him, dancing with him and he peeled off, to face off against the other guardian, even as a sweep of Nesrins axe sent his foe scuttling backwards onto the great stone fists of his fury.

His focus switched onto his own charge, 4 great limps 90 degrees apart kept it stable, the weight of the great hulking shell upon its back not only protection for a squat ugly head with evil glaring eyes, but a balance directly upon its center of gravity. 

Change the center


the idea was flowing even as he charged, hand gripping the lion head he felt flames scorch his palm and the furies squealed in delight as he reached out to them, pulled at their power, feeling it congregate in the palm of his hand, fire and earth dancing within him even as he reached for his throwing axe. The energy rolled up the hilt, the blade erupting into a shower of flames and he drew the arm back, watching the guardians eyes widen into great crimson orbs as it followed his movements.

The flaming axe whipped forward and he threw it, a streaking blade of seering flame flashing wide, pulled to the left, deliberately wide of the creatures body. Fear fluttered and it scuttled , weight pushing onto its right side even as Daruk seemed, to the unknowing eyes to stumble, open hand hitting the ground the earth furies responded, the very ground on the scuttling creatures right side splitting open a gaping maw ready to seize upon a limb.

The axe switched to a two handed grip, response to the thickness of the forelimb meters away he raised it, even as the creature seemed to pivot upon the lip of the maw, eyes rolling as it tried to focus in three places at once and Daruk let out a bellow in hateful dwarvish even as he aimed for the front limb. 

Change the centre, remove the limb and watch the beast topple.


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## apidude

*Aalrik Faengoed - Wood Elf - Wood Walker*

As Aalrik experienced the healing through the bond, he felt Sven's strength seem to solidify and grow. He could feel now some of what the Dwarf felt..... PAIN.... and growing anger, nearing rage. 

Then a harsh voice, deep and solid as the stones echoed through Aalrik and he could feel Sven's rage unleashed as it reached into his soul. While Aalrik the Elf could not understand the sounds, he heard through Sven's pain and rage the voice pull him back to full awareness, ""Brother of the earth, your work is not done, the heavens do not accept you, rise and fight like you are born to do,"

With that there was no place for Aalrik's presence in the bond as blind rage surged outward from both dwarves and he was thrown out of his meditation and the link with the dwarf.

Trembling slightly, levered himself up from his kneeling position, picked up his bow and stood.

As his head cleared and the last vestiges of his link with Sven faded into the background he felt the air around him shiver with tension and another voice, anger barely controlled, was saying, slowly, deliberately, and forcefully its quiet tone not hiding the power behind the voice, ""You. Will. Follow. My. Orders. It is my job to see to the good of the Qalm as a whole, not in part. We will reunite with our lost ones soon enough, but I will risk none of you to do so. Period."

He looked around and saw Nesrin and Zacarish face to face. Nesrin's eyes flared and he seemed larger than life as he towered over the Wind Walker. Zacarish stopped, stunned by the interchange. Nesrin looked at him for, what seemed to be years, but was actually only a few seconds, then turned to the rest of the Qalm and said, "It seems that Zacarish felt that his rushed decision was more important then the orders I had given. Make no mistake younglings I am your battle leader and you will heed me when I speak. I entrust my charges with a certain amount of independence, but only because I feel that they have earned it progressing as far as you have in your training. It seems that I have been to lenient with some of you. How many times have you fought the Vicery, I would wager less than a dozen times, some of you this will make your second encounter. I have been fighting them for over 300 years, in hundreds of battles. Think you that your experience clouds my own?" 

Turning to Zacarish he asks, "Have I made my point youngling?" Then, turning, he broke into a ground eating jog down the tunnel. "Onward then, be on your guard. Aalrik, Robb, and Sven to the rear, watch our backs. We move quickly."

Pulling an arrow from his quiver and nocking it into his bow, Aalrik set off at a run. He slowed his pace to match the rest of the Qalm and positioned himself near the rear of the team. As he ran he kept tension on the bow string, ready to draw and fire in an instant. He scanned over his shoulders as he ran, ensuring that their rear flank was clear. Robb and Sven ran beside him, Sven solidly moving at pace with the rest of the Qalm. Aalrik scanned quickly the dwarf. He seemed as if nothing was amiss, almost as if the wound and healing had not taken place. But there was a quality about the corners of the solid warrior's eyes that had not been there before. A shadow, a grimmness, had replaced the subtle hint of mischief that had once glinted from the young dwarves eyes. Aalrik could tell by the way his eyes scanned the stone tunnel that his Earth furies were giving him information about their surroundings that was unseen and unfelt by Aalrik.

Ahead, Nesrin slowed at the entrance to a large cavern. The boundaries of this cavern are lost in the darkness in the distance, but close to the Qalm, Aalrik could see the walls were pockmarked with circular holes. There were more than Aalrk could count. 

As they approached, with a loud buzz, a swarm of small Vicery erupted from the holes and flew, blurs in the dim light.

Aalrik saw Sven and Robb ready their weapons then felt the stone beneath his feet vibrate rhythmically. Something was coming.

He heard Nesrin's voice, "Aalrik & Djinn keep those flyers off our backs, the rest of you with me." and the rest of the Qalm surged forward, furies materializing as they ran.

Aalrik felt the heat as a column of white fire split the dimness emanating from Djinn. Ten or more members of the small swarm vanished in its heat, small black ashes drifting on the wind caused by the flames. The swarm wheeling as one flew in random patterns and spread out so that they would not get caught again in a group.

"Great," thought Aalrik with a grin, "this is just like the training course at the Palace, only not as many targets!" He had trained in various environments with random numbers of enemies, both flying and on foot, countless times. "These bugs, aren't as fast, though, as the training level I was working on." 

He systematically began to shoot. Each arrow, even the clumsy Vicery arrows he had picked up, blurring through the flickering shadows caused by Djinn's constant barrage of fireballs to bring down one of the winged creatures. He did not need to invoke the aid of his furies although he concentrated on the bow and increased its strength, making the arrows nearly invisible as they sped through the erratic light.


.


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## Angel of Blood

Sol continued on down the twisting tunnels, instinctively knowing which way to go despite having never been there before, the anomaly he detected driving him on, somehow showing him the way. He picked up his pace, almost running down the passageways now, heedless of the obvious danger that venturing off alone like this presented. He knew he was close now though and picked up his pace even more as he rounded a corner, slamming into something as he did. He looked around the walls and ceiling on his back in confusion for a moment before standing up and seeing what he had run into. More Vicery.

Without wasting a single precious second Sol was on the offensive, calling forth fire furies to wreath his hands in flames and air furies to increase the speed of his blows. He deliverers a brutal upper cut to the first of the pair, both still seemingly stunned at the sudden appearence of the human warrior in their midst. Before the blow was finished Sol was already moving to attack the other, throwing the fire on his hand into the creatures face, causing it to stumble blindly and clumsily. The two were no match for Sol, he felt revitalised after the healing carried out on him and the pair had been far to slow to react. He finished the first with another set of crushing blows that deformed the Vicerys head and immolated the other. 

Without pausing to catch his breath, Sol charged on, knowing he was just moments away from finding the source of whatever was drawing him deeper into the hive. Finally he emerged into a large opening and was greeted with the most unexpected of sites. Hanging in the middle of the room was a man, clearly dead but more alarmingly a Tashiri though Sol didn't recognise him, nor could he concentrate on him. All his attention was drawn to the ring of fire that surrounded the fallen Tashiri. It was beautiful, a perfect fully enclosing circle of flames. But as he looked into it he stumbled, almost feeling tears brought to his eyes as his connection with the fire furies was established. They were screaming. This was nothing like the masterful creation Nesrin had made before. This was anathema to the Tashiri way. The furies having been forced into making this and then maintained there, torturing them as it continued. Sol crashed to his knees, dimly aware of his fellow Qualm members who had followed him.

"Who could do this?" he wondered out aloud.


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## Jackinator

The body hung, suspended in the air, a ring of fire burning around it, the heat was intense, hard to approach. The room in the air was dry, a dim reflection of the man hovering there, his skin dry and hollow, clearly dead. His eyes, staring, staring, there was no life in those eyes and there never would be again.

Though that was not even the worst of it, no, the hoop of fire could only have been conjured into existence by a fury crafter, but what the only crafters were Tashiri, and what Tashiri would do this? Sol fell to his knees, his alarm and unease flooding through the bond. Isira couldn't bring herself to move, frozen by the horror of what this could mean.

"Who could do this?"

But Sol's question went unanswered, the implications of this were too great to be grasped all at once, one thing was for sure. There was something here they couldn't have predicted, and from the looks of things it was hell bent on their destruction.


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## Lord Ramo

Robb stared in disbelief as Zacarish prepared to defy the orders of the Hetat. While he wanted to run down the tunnel and help his fellow Tashiri, he knew that it would be a stupid idea for a start, just as it was stupid for them to run off in the first place. Also Nesrin was to be obeyed, he was their leader, he had experience in situations like this. Zacarish did not.

Nesrin obviously had enough and used the powers he had at his disposal to trap Zacarish in the air, stone forming around him to stop him from moving. This halted the group, and allowed Robb a chance to quickly check his gear for damages. His shield was unused still on his back, his helm was ok as was his chainmail. He was sure that his blade was fine, he had crafted Fang himself, and knew every single atom of metal in it.

He looked up as Nesrin spoke to the rest of the Hetat, "It seems that Zacarish felt that his rushed decision was more important then the orders I had given. Make no mistake younglings I am your battle leader and you will heed me when I speak. I entrust my charges with a certain amount of independence, but only because I feel that they have earned it progressing as far as you have in your training. It seems that I have been to leinent with some of you. How many times have you fought the Vicery, I would wager less than a dozen times, some of you this will make your second encounter. I have been fighting them for over 300 years, in hundreds of battles. Think you that your experience clouds my own?" Robb kept his eyes on Nesrin, he didn't but there was no point answering. He obviously did not want an answer and to give one would be unwise.

"You. Will. Follow. My. Orders. It is my job to see to the good of the Qalm as a whole, not in part. We will reunite with our lost ones soon enough, but I will risk none of you to do so. Period." Robb just nodded before the group moved onwards towards the Tashiri stupid enough to run off alone. He could only imagine what Nesrin would say to them when they met again.

They came into a large chamber where the group was ambushed, two huge guardian beasts erupting out of a tunnel whilst a group of flyers attacked from above. Robb moved forward, blade sliding out of his sheath as he charged towards a guardian beast on the right, his blade finding little ****** in its armoured form for him to stab and slash at. However this method wouldn't inflict any lasting damage, he knew that and desperately looked for a way he could strike out at its face.

An idea formed in his head, and he leapt back before turning to Sven,* "Sven I need your help, can you form a staircase of earth nearby to the guardian beast on the right so that I can strike at its head?"*


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## Midge913

*Sven Ironson*

He felt the thing die, his fingers buried to the last knuckle in its armored throat, its death rattle ringing in his ears. He felt a release, the tension of the mandibles that had ravaged his shoulder now gone, he crashed to the ground, his vision fluttering in and out, his mouth working to respond to Robb. Confusion began to leak into his thought process, Robb spoke, but his words wer unintelligble. He felt blackness take him, and he welcomed its embrace, a smile of satisfaction on his lips. His last thought as his conciousness faded was that he would take his place in the Halls of Vargeri, the eternal resting place of his warrior kin. 

Sensation seemed to flood through him, something keeping him attached to his wounded flesh, a presence that was both welcome and unwelcome. Words, soothing and encouraging raced through his mind, and he knew, some vestige of the bond that he felt, now even on the brink of death's embrace, Solomon was there at his side. He could barely feel his body, contorting in the pain of the healing that attempted to save his life, but he heard them. Voices telling him to hold on, to stay strong. He wanted to disregard them. He felt the pull of the Eternal Halls, could hear the singing of this anscestors, and he longed to be with them. He strained against the healer's touch, fought to pull away as powerful presence tried to pin his spirit within its destroyed fleshy casing. He ignored the scent of flowered honey, the calming presence of the long ears as his mind touched the bond that held them together. He felt their grasp slipping, his body fading further, he tried to shout with joy as his soul reached for the doors to his eternal rest, his fingers touching the intricate inlays of silver and gold. He was almost there, despite the fact that he sensed that his body, his mortal form, grew stronger. He could feel Solomons triumph as the wound in his neck slowly closed. Until a new voice, rumbling like the earth, power like his reverberating through it called out. It spoke to him in the tongue of his people, beckoning him, nay ordering him to cease his flight to afterlife. 

He looked on, his gaze taking in the sight of the beautiful doors and the Hall beyond. He watched as several of the warriors inside placed their flagons of mead aside. Their spectral gaze taking him in. He recognized features of several of them. These were his kin. They rose in unison, 4 Dwarfs riddled with scars, warriors all, and approached the doors, each putting a hand on them, pushing them closed. The one nearest him spoke, his voice echoing, _"Your time has not yet come Sven son of Svartlam Ironhand. Take up your weapon as your brother insists. Those you fight with will need your strenght in the months to come. Fight, fight with the ferocity of our kind."_ His words ringing across the metallic surface of the doors as the way ahead was barred to him. 

The resolute stubbornness of his race took hold of him, his earlier longings to go to the beyond all but forgotten. "No hellspawned beastie such as this will take my to my rest," he thought. The pain of his injuries flooding into him, his hand grasping for Avalanche, though its progress was stalled as a rough hand took hold of his own and a rough voice said, _"Laying down on the job eh? It was a good thing Robb was here to save you."_ 

_"Save me indeed,"_ he managed to croak, indignation flaring in his eyes as they snapped open to behold Solomon's worn visage, obviously exhausted, leaning over him. Sven took in the sight of his blood stained garments, and the Vicery his erstwhile opponent, dead. The top of its head cleft open, the mandbiles expertly removed just above where Sven imagined the pinchers had been locked into his flesh. He recognized his friend's swordsman ship and felt that he did indeed owe Robb and of course Solomon his life. 

_"Here,"_ Solomon said, rummaging in Sven's pouch and withdrawing the strange orb Nesrin had given them. _"Eat this,"_ the water crafter instructed,_ "by the looks of that conference we are going to need you on your feet right away."_

_"Pah,"_ Sven spat_," I need no baubles to regain my feet."_ He reached out to Asher, the fury's relief that he lived washing over him as he took strenght from the earth below him and tried to stand. He made his feet, but the ground seemed to pitch infront of him and the next thing he knew he was laying on his side, cramping pain running through his neck and shoulders. Looking to the Watercrafter, Solomon's eyes filled with mirth at the Dwarfs stubborness, told him that he had made a fool of himself. Wordlessly he snatched the marble from the man and munched it down in one bite. Strenght and vigor flooded into his system. The tightness in his shoulders gone, the dizzying pain a distant memory as he sprang to his feet. 

_"Come long 'un,"_ Sven said to Solomon, helping the man to his feet_, "We should join yon meeting, bad business is a stirring unless I miss my guess."_ The faces of his Qalm mates telling a tale that he needed no words to hear. He and Solomon reached them just as they took off down the corridor and Sven fell into step beside Robb and Solomon, Avalanche in his hands, his blood up for the fight that was sure to come, his brows furrowed at the absence of Sol, Isira, and Belak, and his curiosity about the newly arrived Dwarf keeping his tongue silent as the group ran on. 

***​ 
The interchange between Zacarish and Nesrin was wasting precious time and Sven could feel his fellows chaffing at the interruption. Sven agreed with his leader wholeheartedly. It was the Battle leaders responsibility to keep his fellows from fragmenting, and Sven had never even considered disobeying the man that he had grown a huge amount of respect for. Nesrin's words were short and to the point and fit firmly into Sven's view of the Qalm. Soon enough the issue had been resolved and they were off once more. 
As they entered a large open cavern Nesrin slowed and Sven sensed why. Heavy footfalls on the earth, coming directly at them. He had enough time to call Asher from the earth and unlimber his mighty maul, before the Guardian beasts, two mammoth Vicery, armored and vicious, came bursting into the cavern. Along with them a swarm of smaller Vicery beasts erupted from channels in the rock, harrying the Qalm with short blades and claws. He watched as Nesrin charged one of the beasts and he followed in Robb's wake as they rushed to assist their leader. 

Batting one of the smaller Vicery that had escaped Aalrik's arrows aside with his hammer he brought his foot down on it, his strength augmented with the power of his furies, and the thing was squashed flat, its insides seeping out of the cracks of its broken carapace. He ducked a swing of one of the Guardian's massive claws, rolling under the beast, thwacking it on the inside of one of its legs near were it joined to its body. He heard a pop and crack, but even his fury enhanced strenght was not enough to break through the things thick armor. He brought Avalanche up in an uppercut type swing, the head of the maul bouncing off the beasts thick underbelly with a resounding thud, before he rolled out from underneath it, dismayed that he hadn't been able to cause more damage. 

Over the beasts bellow and the roar of the summoned furies, Sven heard Robb yell, _"Sven I need your help, can you form a staircase of earth nearby to the guardian beast on the right so that I can strike at its head?"_

_"Aye!"_ was the only reply needed. Slapping his palm to the earth, he felt the furies leap to his command, Shaping the earth, bending it to his will as he formed a series of platforms leading up to the the level of the things head. Hopefully his friend's expert strikes would be able to rid them of this nuisance.


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

The odds of surviving a direct confrontation with one of these things was remote, but Adam was not about to take a single step back. It was big, which simply meant it was a larger target. Two of his allies had engaged one of them, leaving the other one to everyone else. 

Its weakness was easy to spot. While there was a good chance that it could fell the windwalker with a single blow, landing that low would be an impressive feat. Adam grinned as he called upon the furies of wind, increasing his speed to keep him always ahead of the beast's clumsy swings and blunt strikes. At an oppurtune moment, **** manifested and began to harry the creature directly at its eyes, causing its wayward swings to go even further wide. 

He cut and sliced at its limbs at every chance he got, but it was quickly apparent that the beast would not be felled this way. He needed someone with greater punch, an earth or fire walker would be ideal. 

By this time the others had joined the fray, Nesrin and the newcomer Daruk lending their strength to the fight. Adam retreated slightly so as not to impede them, but remained vigilant. If nothing else, he could dart in and pull his comrades out of the way if danger was imminent...


----------



## Santaire

Zacarish listened to Nesrin chastising him but despite that in his heart he believed he was right. "Nesrin," he called, stopping the Hetat in his tracks. "Before judging me, let me tell you something. The being you believe you see before you is nothing but a whisper, an echo of a person. My rage governs me and my body has become nothing but a conduit for that anger. I am the least worthy of all the people in our Qalm for that rage is not a part of me, it is me. You know what it is like to lose a member of your Qalm, I do not. But already my rage is beginning to control me and I fear that if I learn of that experience it will push me over the edge and I will fall into oblivion, becoming little more than a beast to be herded into line and unleashed against the enemy. Is that really the fate you wish for me?"

Nesrin paused for a long moment before answering. "Your fate is what you choose it to be youngling. Despite the difficulties that you face personally you have not answered my question. Will you follow my orders?" Zacarish looked down slightly and shook his head with a sad smile but before Nesrin could utter another word he raised his head and looked the man right in the eye. “I would follow you into the gates of hell should you ask it of me but the one thing I do not want to risk is the life of my Qalm members. Yes, I will follow your orders.” Nesrin seemed to stare at the young Dark Elf for a moment before Zacarish felt the air furies stir and the earth recede away his body releasing him, "Nor do I wish to risk their lives either youngling, but the mission must come first. We will reunite with them soon enough I am sure.” With that Nesrin turned and began to jog down the tunnel. Zacarish stood and followed him at the rear of the Qalm.

As they followed Nesrin through the tunnels Zacarish could sense through his bond that they were getting closer to the others. Nesrin slowed when they reached a huge cavern similar to the one at the entrance. Zacarish felt a powerful disturbance in the air furies and looked up in time to see about 40 small creatures erupt from holes in the otherwise solid rock. Zacarish was about to call on the air furies to lift him high enough to engage them but he stopped suddenly when he felt a slight vibration in the ground where he stood. He could tell that the Earth walkers had heard it earlier judging by their sudden stances. 2 huge beasts came galloping out of the tunnels ahead of them.

Zacarish changed tact in an instant, remembering Hetat Aleanatin’s advice to himself and Adam he leapt into the air and began an irregular orbit around the creature, constantly darting in and sliding his sword through small gaps in the creature’s armour before pushing himself away from its blows. He saw a brilliant opening and suddenly boosted himself towards its legs. He sunk his blade into the weak armour covering the joint between armour and leg before the Guardian caught him with a glancing blow that sent him hurtling back with his sword still stuck in its leg.

He picked himself up, shaking his head to clear his vision. Looking up he realised that he was probably too far away to do any physical damage. However... He smiled beneath his helmet. He hooked his fingers into claws and felt the furies in his sword respond to his call. Purging his mind of all other thought he began to twist, driving the blade deeper before he began a sawing motion and the blade responded in kind...


----------



## Midge913

*Update #18*

Robb(Lord Ramo): Sven's series of platforms is just the advantage you need to get to up to a level on par with the things head. As you scamper up the makeshift stair case you watch as Sven harries the thing from the front, launching small rock projectiles at the beast and attempting to knock its legs out from under it with his massive hammer, even as Nesrin and his Furies assault the things rear and flanks. In no time at all you reach the pinacle of Sven's steps and you are able to unleash a flurry of strikes against the Guardian's armored head. Several strikes bounce of the thick armor there, but even more find their mark, opening large gashes along its neck and face, causing severe damage. You are able to dodge two swipes of its large claws, the clacking of them snapping closed almost deafening this close, and riposting your are able to aim a slash right across its eyes, blinding it. With an earpiercing scream of rage and pain the Guardian goes into a frenzy, hacking and slashing at you in a haphazard manner. Though you are quick enough to dodge the first strike, you are not as lucky the second time and one of its claws swipes down your front, barely missing getting you in its grasp, the top of its claw digging a deep furrow in your breast plate and knocking you from your pearch. You hit the ground, wind knocked out of you, but for the moment out of the action and in no real danger, as you watch Sven, Nesrin, and their accompanying furies bring the blinded and severly wounded creature low. 

Daruk(Deathbringer), Adam(Serpion5)& Zacarish(Santaire): You three are assaulting the same Guardian along with the Water Walker Solomon. Daruk the feint with your flaming throwing axe works as the things skitters away from the blazing fire in fear, forcing it to put all its weight on one side just as you had intended and your axe strike cuts deep into its right front foreleg, causing the beast to stumble. Though his talents are better saved for healing and ranged combat Solomon rushes to aid you and seizing on to your plan, he kneels to the ground, lips moving in a silent whisper as he calls upon his furies and in a blink water begins to rise from the ground, creating a soupy bog that catches both of the things right legs, throwing it further off balance. Zacarish the Guardian screams in pain as your blade juts in and out of the ***** you found in its armor and after a few seconds it takes its weight off of that leg all together, rearing back to rest its weight on its abdomen, claws flashing in an attempt to grab Adam as he continues to dart in and out, keeping its focus, allowing the three of you to continue to wear it down. The guardian is all but trapped, unable to pull its bulk from the quicksand like mire Solomon has created or to support its weight on its other injured legs. Daruk you have a close encounter with one of its claws, the massive appendage almost taking your head off as you try to close in for a killing blow, but with Adam's timely intervention you are able to dodge out of the way. Continue to work together to finish off the beast. [Discuss in the recruitment thread how you all plan to finish the Guardian and inact the plan]

Aalrik(Apidude): Your arrows in combination with Djinn's powerful blasts of flame make quick work of the flying menace, those not transfixed by oaken shafts or incinerated by gouts of flame wisely retreating to the safety of their nests rather than face mortal peril at your hands. However, before you can catch a moments respite to prepare to join your Qalm mates in their fights with the Guardians, a bellow of challenge echoes from down a corridor behind you and to the right as a third guardian beast charges into the fray, knocking you from your feet with a heavy swat of its clawed arms, sending you sprawling around 10 feet from where you began. You hear a cry of pain and challenge and it is all too human in nature, answered by another reverberating roar from the newly arrived Guardian. As you gather your bearings, you see that Djinn hangs trapped in the grips of one of the monsters claws, a hastily drawn scimitar flashing out weakly to keep the beasts other arm from gain purchase. His lifeblood flows freely from the ruined stump of his left leg, missing below the knee, and your sharp eyes see blood pooling around his midsection where the Guardian's claw threatens to snip him in half, sputtering gouts of flame conjured by Djinn the only thing keeping it from killing him outright. Pain flares through the bond and you know that Djinn is in dire straights. As you rush forward to aid him, you watch in a mixture of awe and horror as Djinn's broken frame flares to life with living flame, at the core the outline of his body becoming brighter and brighter as he apparently draws more strength from his Furies. Before you can reach him you are once again knocked flat by and explosion of heat and noise that seems to originate from where your Qalm mate was locked in mortal struggle. As you once again pull yourself together you try to find some sign of Djinn only to see the Guardian beast he struggled with, half of its body missing, turned to ash by the heat on power of your brother Tashiri's crafting, the half that remains a blackend and charred husk, with smoke still raising around it. A sudden emptiness in the bond tells you without a doubt that Djinn has paid the ultimate sacrifice to best his foe. How does Aalrik deal with this? What are his feelings at that very moment?

Robb(Lord Ramo), Adam(Serpion5)& Zacarish(Santaire) Flush with your victory over the Guardians, you are caught completely by surprise when sudden pain flares across the bond, looking to find the source you see Djinn locked in a mortal struggle with a Guardian that slipped amongst you unnoticed while you fought your own foes. You see that Aalrik is rushing to aid your beleagured brother when a sudden explosion of heat and noise rocks the small cavern. As the dust clears you feel an overwhelming sense of loss through the bond and as your vision clears, both from the light of the explosion and the settling of the debris it stirred up, you can see that the Guardian is finished, rent apart by the force of Djinn's crafting, but that your Qalm mate is no more. How does this effect you? What do your characters do?

Daruk(Deathbringer): Flush with your victory over the Guardians, you are soon drawn to the strange behavior of your Qalm mates. You see all of their eyes snap almost in unison to the other side of the cavern. Obviously they have felt something through the bond that they share and following their gaze you see Djinn locked in a mortal struggle with a Guardian that slipped amongst you unnoticed while you fought your own foes. You see that Aalrik is rushing to aid your beleagured brother, your senses awash with the power of the fire crafting Djinn is working when an explosion of heat and noise rocks the small cavern. As your vision clears, both from the light of the explosion and the settling of the debris it stirred up, you can see that the Guardian is finished, rent apart by the force of Djinn's crafting, but that your Qalm mate is no more. How does this effect you? What does your character do?


Sol(Angel of Blood) & Isira(Jackinator):As you try to comprehend what is going on in the room, your reverie is interrupted by a sudden flare of pain, shortly followed by an overwhelming feeling of loss. You know that one of your number has died, you can feel it in your very heart and soul. But before you are able to focus down on the bond or even run from the room to rejoin your group to see what has happened, your attention is drawn to the sound of heavy armor tromping down the hallway toward you. Before you can leave the way out of the cavern you are in is barred by the hulking forms of two Lancer beasts (same appearance as the ones from the entrance cave) that both carry long handled axes with large sweeping curved blades. They seem as surprised to find you in the cavern, it appearing that they were simply coming to check on the prisoner, as you are to have them appear. You, along with Belak, recover first and attack. You can cause serious injury to one, mildy injury to the other, but you all, working in concert are able to avoid injury altogether. [I will make a post for Belak, but talk amongst yourselves to decide who is going to do what.]


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

Another swing another miss as Adam darted past, sweeping his blue scimitar across the Guardian beast's face with an almost playful laugh. Distracted as it was, the creature could not prevent the loss of its limb nor the intervention of Solomon causing it to sink into the ground. It was immobilized now, but to get too close would still be to invite danger. Adam landed and skitted back, not moving within its now limited range but no longer content to simply irritate the creature. 

No, now was the time to do some more serious and practical damage. His lips curled into a malicious smile as he brought his powers to bear. **** responded to his whims with affirmation and channeling the energy through his sword, he began to starve the guardian of the oxygen it even now struggled to intake. It was covered in spiracles and could breathe fine for the most part, but by starving its head region he was still reducing the amount of oxygen its brain would receive. 

Adam's scimitar swirled in his grip as he along with **** removed the air surrounding the thing's head. What it breathed now was devoid of oxygen or nitrogen, instead inhaling the same carbon dioxide it had moments before over and over again. Adam pushed himself harder, demanding more from the furies as he struggled to keep the creature dazed and drain the air from a larger region. His eyes closed in concentration. 

_Die you bastard, die..._ He thought. He lost track of what was happening, he couldn't tell if the others were moving in until the audible sound of a deathly impact roughly where the creature stood. He opened his eyes and was just able to make out the falling form of the dead creature as his vision began to clear. 

--- --- --- 

Before anything could be added to their victory however, a sharp shooting pain came to Adam across the bond. Instantly, Adam's thoughts turned to Djinn the Fire Walker and as he turned to see where the man was he beheld the tashiri locked in combat with yet another guardian beast. Aalrik had already begun to move towards the wounded fire wielder but it was too late, as even now a blazing ball of light was enveloping both Djinn and his doomed foe. The explosion rocked the entire cavern and Adam fell to one knee with both the vibration and the effort of fighting the pain. 

_Djinn is dead._ ****'s voice told Adam what he had already known would happen. It seemed the fire walker had put his entire being into one finishing move that would consume him and his foe. Her voice was distressed, as though the pain suffered was her own. 

_He must have realized he was going to die anyway._ Adam replied to the Hawk Spirit's words. _This was bound to happen. We were careless._ 

_Have you no grief?_ **** demanded, mortified. 

_No. You are my heart. You are my conscience. My will and my resolve are my own. This is what we made. This is why we are of two minds instead of one._ Adam's words were like hammers as they fell. 

_So be it._ ****'s choked voice replied. _I will bear this grief for you. But you cannot hide from it forever._ 

Adam was silent as he rose to his feet and approached the scorched remnants of where Djinn had died. His face was expressionless as he turned back to the others and simply shook his head in disappointment.


----------



## apidude

The feather fletching of the arrow brushed Aalrik's cheek as he released and the steel tipped arrow sped upward to impale one of the flying creatures. With a squeal unnervingly like a human scream, it fell to the floor of the cavern, twitching. Before it hit the ground, Aalrik released two more shafts and two more creatures screamed and fell.

Gouts of flame flew upward as Djinn cast fireball after fireball up into the swirling swarm of creatures. His fire would catch and burn and as the creatures flew and fell against each other the flames would jump from one to another, each burning creature setting fire to his companions.

As the flames grew, the entire surviving swarm wheeled in mid air, buzzing back into the honeycomb of holes that lined the cavern. Aalrik could see glints of light from their burning brothers reflected in their amber eyes deep from deep within the rough openings in the walls. 

At a half crouch, Aalrik scanned the room, arrow nocked on his bow and half drawn ready to release but, aside from a slight low buzz from the walls, there was no sign of the swarm. He glanced at Djinn who also was watching the openings in the walls looking for the slightest sign of movement. In his hand he held his scimitar and in his other hand he held a pulsating ball of blue fire. His eyes were quickly moving from side to side as he checked each of the openings above.

Aalrik turned to see what was happening with the rest of the Qalm. 

The instant he turned away from the cavern, a loud roar echoed up from the depths of the cave. Aalrik spun to face the sound but was thrown to one side as another of the clawed guardians sped from the cave below. He struck the ground hard, his bow miraculously still in his hand but the arrow that had been nocked and ready now broken in two. His head hit the floor with a blow and the world went dark with pain. Small yellow sparks danced behind his eyes in the midst of the blackness and then he felt himself falling into complete unconsciousness.

It was only a mental cry of pain and fury that pulled him up from that painless blackness to the ache of his bruised body. That pain and anger, tinged with a sense of fearful acceptance, shot across the bond between him and the rest of the Qalm. His eyes snapped open and he jerked himself to his hands and knees, dizzy from the blow that still threatened to take him into unconsciousness. 

On the ground before him Djinn's lower leg lay in a pool of its own blood, severed just below the knee. Djinn was being held in the pincher like grip of the guardian, blood seeping from where he was being cut in two by the clawed arm and from his severed leg. He stabbed at the creature with his scimitar and the monster bellowed its pain as one of its eyes was pierced and went dim. It squeezed Djinn harder and he screamed with a growing hatred of this beast who had the temerity to hold HIM, one of the Tashiri warriors. 

Aalrik stumbled forward, pulling his swords from their sheathes and moved to attack the creature, but he felt disoriented from the concussion that still threatened to pull him back down into blackness.

Through his own pain, Aalrik felt through the bond that Djinn was weakening. But, beneath the weakness, rage was building within the firewalker and Aalrik could feel Djinn pulling more and more power from the furies at his command. As Djinn's rage and hatred crested, the furies burst from him in a white hot wall, exploding out of his body. Half of the creature holding him vanished in the white hot concussion and Aalrik was again thrown from his feet to the ground as the explosion funneled down through the cavern. 

From the honeycomb openings high pitched screams pierced the air as the winged creatures hiding there were seared by the hot air.

Again Aalrik struggled to rise as his wounded head ached with another blow from the hard stone floor of the cavern. Forcing his eyes open and the blackness to recede by focusing on the sensations coming through the bond of the Qalm, Aalrik was surprised to note that he had held on to Aor. His other sword lay a few yards from where he was getting to his feet. Quickly he stretched out and snatched it up, ready to battle the guardian that had caused Djinn's death.

But the creature is beyond his ability to harm and would certainly do no harm to any of the other members of the Qalm. It still stood, frozen in place. The half of the creature not vaporized immediately by Djinn's fury craft stood, its cauterized wounds smoking and its carapace blackened and scarred.

"Djinn!!" Aalrik cried out, and the swarm buzzed at the sound.

There was an emptiness in the bond that spoke of the absence of the young Tashiri. It seemed that a hole had been created in Aalriks soul that would never be filled. Djinn was gone. The only remains were the memory and the echo of the fierce rage and pride that the firewalker had used to destroy the enemy of his brothers and sisters. In the last instant before the explosion he had let the pride in his membership in their order and in their Qalm become the spark that set off his self sacrifice.

Aalrik ground his teeth together, sheathed his swords and retrieved his bow. Pulling an arrow from his quiver he turned to the black opening of the cave from which the guardian had come.

"They would pay.... they would all pay. Now the true Hunt begins." he thought, grimly
.


.


----------



## Therizza

*Sven Ironson*

Sven watched with grim satisfaction as Robb bounded the steps he had willed into being. Cresting the top, Robb slashed and parried, fighting the great Guardian beast with all of his skill. Meanwhile, he and Nesrin assaulted the beast on their own fronts. Sven launched rocks at the beast, more as a distraction than anything, hoping to give Robb a split second to land a telling blow, all the while dodging its attacks, any of which would have been fatal to the dwarf if it landed. Aiming his body at one of the beasts legs, Sven broke into a charge. Knowing the beast was too strong to be held in place with an entrapment attack, Sven merely shifted the ground on which the beast stood, staggering it for a second.

That second was all he needed, as he smashed Avalanche into the beast's leg. The force of the hammer, propelled by Sven's enhanced strength, broke the creatures leg in two. Nesrin had been harrying the creature as well, and with it's legs taken out from under it, and blinded by Robb's attacks, it lay prone and vulnerable. Although it thrashed and attempted to put up a defense, the Tashiri closed in, pulverizing the beast's exposed underbelly until it's foul innards covered the tunnel's floor in sickly ichor. 

Quickly checking the surroundings, and seeing his closest allies were in no immediate danger, Sven sensed something.

Something was amiss, of this Sven was sure. What little joy could have been had from their small victory over the Guardian beasts paled in comparison to the immense grief Sven felt. It was as if a piece of his being, nay his very soul, was being cut from his chest.

Asher whispered to Sven, _"Djinn is dying"_.

Time had seemed to slow. Sven saw Aalrik running, screaming Djinn's name as he did. He could see Djinn's nearly lifeless body held aloft in the grip of the Guardian beast. Locked in mortal combat, Djinn's fate was fixed. Sven saw the flash and heard the loud report, and in an instant, Djinn and his foe were no more.

It was not the concussive force of the Fire walker's last stand, but the immensity of his feelings that caused Sven to stumble. Hastily regaining his footing, Sven rushed to Aalrik's side and further along. The destruction wrought by the massive explosion was grim. The Guardian beast, torn asunder by the explosion that consumed Djinn's body, was a smoldering hulk. Of Djinn, even less was left, barely enough to bury.

Kneeling by what he assumed to be Djinn's remains, he choked back a tear. Placing his hand to the earth, Sven uttered a prayer of sorts. _"Mayhaps one of our Qalm was destined to die this day, my friend. I am grieved it was not I, but ye. Go now and rest. We shall sing of your glory and avenge your death." _

Rising to his feet and wiping his face, Sven fell in by Aalrik, Avalanche brandished in a defensive position. He remembered back to his training, how moments of grief could lead to irrational decisions. He had to calm Aalrik, who seemed poised to rush into the darkness, courting more danger than the beleaguered group could handle at this point.

_"Steel yourself, Aalrik. Let's not do anything hasty..."_


----------



## Lord Ramo

Sven raised a series of platforms, a staircase of earth at Robb's request, obviously knowing were he was going with it. Robb leapt forward like lightning, breaking off an attack at the Guardians legs and sprinted for the platforms. Hopefully the rest of the Qualm that was attacking the Guardian beast would be able to distract it so it didn't destroy the platforms that he would be standing on.

Luck was on his side, and as he charged up the stairway he was content to see the rest of the qualm fighting the two Guardian beasts. He reached the top, being level with the head of the guardian beast and began his attack with _"Fang"_. He attacked quickly, one attack flowing into another seamlessly as he stabbed at the beasts eyes before slashing elswhere on the Guardians face. It roared in anger and aimed several swipes at him with its claws but he managed to dodge them all.

He soon took its sight from it, one stab taking out one of its eyes, and a heavy slash took the other. It screamed in pain and launched more attacks at him, Robb only just dodging some of them as it focused on the area he was now. Robb ducked underneath one of its arms as it swiped at him, just to see another limb which hit him square on the chest, hurling him from the high platform he was on.

Robb hit the ground hard, pain lancing through his side from the impact on the ground, and he couldn't help but cough as the wind was knocked from him. He slowly rolled onto his back to see Sven deliver the killing blow on the Guardian they had been fighting, allowing him a chance to compose himself. He breathed heavily, sweat rolling down his body from the fighting that he had just taken part in, and he slowly rolled onto his front then all fours.

Taking his helm off he quickly looked for any damage that might have been done by the creatures attack, his helm was fine, as was his sword. However he could sense in the metal chainmail that he wore over his chest that it was damaged, and looked down to see that the claw of the limb that had hit him had damaged it. He could repair it, but he doubted that he had the time, or the materials at the moment to completely fix it, and opted to take off the chainmail.

It meant that he would rely on his speed and skill with a blade more not to get hurt, but Robb was confident he could step up. He rolled the chainmail up before putting it in a large pouch on his back. He stood slowly, _"Fang"_ back in his sheath as he regained his balance. He felt pain flare quickly and suddenly through his bond with the qualm, and soon could tell that one of his friends had died. Djinn had sacrificed himself to kill a guardian beast, immolating it with his fire powers.

Robb felt shock spread through him before he tried to marshall his emotions, after the mission was complete he would have time to mourn, but for now he had a job to do. He could still feel the pain flare through his bond, and knew his other Tashiri Qualm members were feeling the effects of his death. Robb ran a hand through his hair before moving over to where Aalrik and Sven were standing, Sven trying to calm Aalrik down a bit.

Robb crouched down over the remains of Djinn and his enemy, awaiting further orders to move out.


----------



## apidude

Grinding his teeth, Aalrik moved toward the opening leading further into the depths of the Vicery's nest. Then through the mist of pain, anger, and the aftershock of feeling Djinn's spirit fly into pieces, he felt rather than heard a deep, bass sound at his side.

"Steel yourself, Aalrik. Let's not do anything hasty..."

He turned his head, slowing to see the Dwarf, Sven at his side. 

He recalled the feel of the Dwarf's life force as it had been pulled back from death by the strength of the Healer's powers, the dwarves own will as well as his own small sacrifice and then, with a slight shiver, the anger and grief dissolved into a grim purpose; the mist fell from his eyes and he began to think again.

Djinn was gone. The Qalm, as a Unit, was still reeling from the power of his spirit as it consumed the guardian. His was not the only anger and grief. They needed to unite in order to deal with both their pain and this enemy.

He stopped and turned to look squarely at the dwarf. 

"Hasty, Sir Dwarf? Nearly so, but thanks to you, I am back from the precipice, and can think clearly once again. Methinks now, that if we work our weapons and tools and magics together it just MIGHT be a better hunt than my few paltry arrows. Care to join me?"


.


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## Santaire

Zacarish’s sword flew into his hand and he charged. The long blade wove a deadly pattern in the air as he ran forward. Then, all of a sudden, the blade’s pattern ceased and he lunged. His sword struck the Guardian in the stomach and sunk deep. He ripped it sideways before tearing it free of the clinging flesh. It screamed in pain before the air was ripped from its lungs and Daruk ended its life with a single axe blow. Zacarish flicked the blood from his sword’s blade and gave a grim smile.

Then he heard a war cry filled with pain.

He turned to see Djinn suspended from the claws of a guardian. His left leg had been sheared off at the knee and his blood pulsed freely. Zacarish was rooted to the spot as he watched Djinn’s whole body begin to glow. Flame breached his skin and the last sound Djinn made before he was consumed was a pain-filled laugh.

There was an explosion of light and flame and Zacarish fell to one knee at the sheer force of it. His vision was blurred as he stood but then an intense feeling of loss reached him and he reeled backwards as if struck. His vision cleared and he saw the guardian, its form half melted and slumped on the ground. But Djinn was gone.

Zacarish did not move as the others did. Aalrick was enraged but Sven calmed him and Robb stood with them. Adam stood away from them, looking down at the wreckage of the guardian.

Zacarish’s eyes glistened in the light as he surveyed the ground where his Qalm mate had fought his last battle. He moved very slowly as he walked forward. He could sense Nesrin glancing his way as he paced forward before sinking to his knees on the exact spot where Djinn had died. Taking a small piece of metal from his pocket Zacarish ran his hands over it.

The metal’s shape changed as he held it and Zacarish could feel the furies responding to him. At last he stopped and placed his creation on the ground. His back was to everyone and so they could not see what he had made until he stood. The metal was perfectly crafted into the shape of a flame and should one have looked close enough they would have seen, engraved on the front, the name _Djinn_.

Zacarish was fighting the rage that threatened to consume him utterly and this internal battle left his movements slow and cautious. But this did not mean he was weakened. Pity any Vicery he encountered now...


----------



## deathbringer

A tall thin man that had previously hung back seemed to seize on his concept even as the guardian scuttled and writhed, irked and fearful as blades began to cut into its armour. His axe whipped round with a shrieking hiss, the creatures enraged cries becoming agonised as Daruks own axe head, bit deep cutting through armour, the power of his strike causing it to teeter and sway, refusing to put weight on the wounded limb. 


The man's eyes were alight as he touched the ground and Daruk was surprised to feel nothing put pure pleasure from the earth furies, yet the gurgles of delight became screams of terror as they were submerged and drowned, gargling bubbling screams tearing out his soul and he let out a yell of hatred even as the guardians legs sunk fast into the mire and it howled in rage trapped and helpless.

He was nauseated, the howling death screams of the earth furies leaving him staggered and the beast lashed out at him with a fore claw that whipped over his head even as he prostrated himself.

It was above him the claw raised to crush him whole and he let out a roar of rage struggling to role away yet he was trapped in the mire. 

The anger bit, fury at himself at the beast before him. A blue scimitar flashed and the beast was screaming and howling, its attention pulled away even as he fought himself free.

Anger bit deep, hateful rage for the beast that had almost ended his life, so soon, revenge for the furies that floated sodden and lifeless atop the water.
He was moving, strength pulling him through the mire and he ducked a sweep of claw closing upon the beast and now he was through , wheeling to face the creatures broad back.

Spines formed hand holds as he leapt astride, the intensity of the others attacks increasing as they saw his progress, the frequent twitches and convulsions of the creature leaving him hanging by pure strength.

Yet he had strength, his torso a mass of muscle as he ascended, spike after spike, biceps bulging, a snarl tearing apart his face. Like a miniature god he stood atop the creature raising the axe, it twisted, perhaps it realised it's doom even as the axe fell, hateful strength splitting its cranium asunder.

It slumped before him the wound showering his pure white robe in blood and spattered brain matter even as he leapt away rolling from the mire. Straightening with a smile he opened his mouth to smile looking to the man with blue scimitar.

The eyes met then snapped away even as a rush of flame and heat blurred his senses, staggering him and he turned to see a tremendous blast of flame, energy beyond mortal handling flaring from a firewalker locked in a deadly struggle with a guardian.

He was blind, he was overcome, he was on his knees, it was too much, it was impossible, it was....

His sense were recovering, eyes regaining focus looking at the very epicentre of that fire ball, where there was only ash, only embers of the battle that had claimed a man he had never known. 

Others were overcome, the dwarf was holding back a bowman another seemed to be crafting, metal coiling and curling in his hands, the man with the blue scimitar that had saved his life, merely shook his head appearing too numb for words.

Daruk was a void. Slowly he moved away from the grief, it was not his grief, not his sorrow.

Slowly he sunk to his heels against the wall of the cave, leaving the others to their emotion.

He put his face in his hand even as he unleashed the barely constrained smile, what a rush, what a feeling, that sensation had been beyond pleasure.

His heart was thumping against his armour and he held in a joyous shout of exhileration.

He was back where he belonged, amongst the bloodstained and the damned


----------



## Midge913

*Update #19*

All(except Isira(Jackinator)): As you all deal with the Djinn's loss in your own way, whether standing next to your Qalm, or reflecting in solitude, Nesrin's voice cuts across the cavern. " To me younglings," he cries. As you approach him, he kneels on the ground, palm flat on the earth, lips moving in a silent mumble, his eyes darting from tunnel opening to tunnel opening as if listening to something that only he can hear. As you watch on you see his eyes, stop and rest on the spot where Djinn died, and before he can stop it a silent tear leaks from the corner of now sad eyes. He quickly recovers, the momentary lapse the only emotion you see, but the bond roils and shakes with contained fury and pain. Waves of it crashing on the corners of your mind like whitecaps against the shore. (Daruk you unfortunately feel none of the input from the bond). "We must press on younglings," he says, eyes still searching the tunnels, as if looking for some clue as to where to go next, "I have called to Isira, SOl, and Belak across the bond and told them to meet with us, regardless of what they have found. The destruction of the queen is now even more of a priority. If the Guardians seek us out, then the Hive is aware of our presence and will stop at nothing to find and slay us." Punctuating the point, his head snaps toward a tunnel on his left and you all feel the disturbances in your own way. For the Earth Walkers the ground positively vibrates with footfalls, both heavy and light, thousands upon thousands of insectiod legs pound on the sandy ground, coming in your direction. Airwalkers the very air around you pulsates with the movement of thousands of wings, the highpitched hum of tiny specimens and the the basso thrum of things larger. Aalrik and Robb, the sheer amount of wood and metal that now stream in your direction is enough to elude to the sheer numbers of Vicery creatures that are bearing down upon you. 

Taking up his axe from the ground, Nesrin motions for you all to follow him, and he darts down the tunnel on the opposite side of the cavern, cutting down two vicery warriors as he disappears down into the darkness. Several vicery warriors are now visible in the depths of the tunnel that will soon spit forth a legion of the beasts and several more appear from the tunnel that Nesrin took. Follow your Hetat, cutting down the vicery that seek to bar your path. Each of you will from hear on out be fighting for your life, flying vicery warriors, the most numerous of the Vicery race, assail you from all sides, you can tell that you are beyond the point of no return. Succeed or die is the only choice left to you. In this update you can kill 2-4 Vicery warriors, for now remaining uninjured. 

Isira (Jackinator): I need for you to post for last update.


----------



## Lord Ramo

Robb stayed quiet at the death of Djinn. He was a good man and would be sorely missed from the qualm. However he felt the emotions of those around him, the rage which Zacarish had, the anger that seethed in his fellows. Slowly Robb rose from his feet where he was and turned to see Nesrin who called out to the qualm. Robb moved over slowly, giving himself a brief moment of respite after he was thrown from the columns of earth that his friend Sven had created.

Nesrin went onto one knee, hand placed on the ground as if he was calling upon the furies of the earth to help guide him. He stopped when he sensed the ground where upon Djinn's ashes now remained and Robb watched in astonishment as a tear rolled down his face. He thought the the Hetat would have kept his emotions in check more, but the bond between all of them rippled with anger and thoughts of vengeance.

He spoke about moving on and that the other Tashiri in the qualm that was separate from them would meet up with them regardless of what they found. Robb couldn't help but feel a little chilled at the thought of them finding something that Nesrin would cover up how bad it was. His head snapped to a tunnel, as did Robb.

Robb could sense the metal tide that was coming towards them. Thousands upon thousands of Vicery were aware of them and coming this way. Nesrin stood axe in hand as he moved away killing the few faster vicery that had managed to get to their position quickly. He beckoned to them to follow them into the tunnel as more and more Vicery started to arrive.

"Move it!" Bellowed Robb as he drew his blade, parrying a blow from a Vicery cruel looking knife, ducking underneath a hastily swung axe blow before he severed both arms of the Vicery that attacked him. He didn't give it a chance to scream, taking its head with his next swipe as he backpedelled to the tunnel.

He unleashed a swarm of metal shards, puncturing the throat of another Vicery and moving through its body to kill it from the inside, concentration being solely focussed on this. Whilst he managed to do it he felt himself a little drained when he reached the mouth of the tunnel. He stood there, blade in hand as he called out to the other Tashiri. "Come on brothers, I will hold them here." His intent to do a rearguard action plain for all to see.

He did not have plans to die, but he would not fall back until all of his qualm here were past him and following Nesrin or were lying dead beside him. With that thought he cut down two Vicery that made it to the tunnel first, blade lunged through the firsts chest before ducking underneath the swipes of the other, catching hold of one of its blade he destroyed it with but a thought, showering the Vicery with the shards. He then stabbed his blade through its head before taking a defensive stance. He had taken his damaged chainmail off so would have to be very careful from now on.


----------



## Serpion5

*'We must press on!'* Nesrin's call was answered immediately by the Qualm. Robb had pressed on ahead alongside the Hetat, and Adam was not going to be seen lacking in this fight. The swarm was clearly visible up ahead. Though he still held his cool and detached view, he couldn't drown out ****'s screams of anguish and rage. She formed his heart and emotions, and it was now her voice that cried out for vengeance at the loss of Djinn. 

The blue steel of Adam's scimitar shimmered as he called upon the wind and darted forward. The vicery that rushed to meet them now were simple drones as they had been before, and as such would fall without too much effort. The first met a swift end, beheaded by a blue blur no eye could follow. The second was only slightly more long lived, suffering a severed weapon arm before being stabbed through its heart. 

The battle rage bled through his psyche and after that Adam was no longer able to keep **** in check. For a split moment, he felt the full force of her grief. Emotions that were rightfully his poured through him and he screamed uncontrollably for the few seconds it took her to manifest above him. In his fury he blasted another vicery with a force of wind, hurling it back against the cave wall with such force that carapace and bones alike shattered and stained the stone. 

He stumbled momentarily with the exertion, but **** showed no such signs and immediately swept forward. Her eyes glowed and her beak and talons gaped wide as she surged forth and tore chunks from the next opponent with her vicious sweeping path. Adam ran forward with sword outstretched just as she came back for a return strike from behind and together the two of them tore the insectoid soldier in half. 

'This will be a day nobody involved will soon forget.' Adam said to whoever would listen.


----------



## Jackinator

*Isira*

Her eyes were fixated on the frozen form of the Tashiri. It was an agonising sight, no being should have to suffer such a fate and whatever had forced the furies to do this was an evil that had to end. She felt lost and forlorn and the loss of a companion so soon, but she could feel an iron resolve welling up in her breast. She turned to speak to Sol, but no sooner had she done so than two Lancers merged into the cave. She had been so focused on the body that she had ignored her other sentences, not noticing the tramp of the heavy insects until it was too late. Wordlessly she pushed Sol, throwing herself to the side as one of the massive creatures brought it's spear down with a heavy clang.

She rolled into the fall, coming up in a heartbeat, lunging forwards and stamping down on the spear blade. It was useless, the muscles of the powerful creature easily pulling it up, pushing her upwards. The roof of the cavern was low, lower than the previous and she hit it, her breath flew out of her with an audible whoosh and fell downwards. She landed on the back of the creature with a thump, groaning as she landed hard. It spun round but she reached out and grabbed a hold of the edge of it's armoured plate, her other hand digging a knife into the weaak flesh beneath, securing her grip as it bucked and reared. She used her other hand, drawing her other knife, hurling it at the back of the creature's head. As it passed she concentrated, hardening the air around it until the knife stopped, then as it's head came back the very edge of the knife cut across it's eye. It screeched rearing even more fiercely and she was thrown clear with a cry.

She rolled roughly and came up haltingly, turning back to face the creature. The dagger was still caught in it's eye, embedded, a thick gooey substance oozing down it's head.


----------



## deathbringer

A voice that rolled with barely constrained emotion drew his face from his hands, the hetat's sorrow melding with boiling rage even as he drew his warriors too him, a single tear tearing a deep grove across his cheak before falling to the ground where the fire walker had once stood, where he now would rest for eternity. He drew them onwards deeper into the caves and Daruk felt his blood rising even as the furies boiled and writhed, the flames held so close to his chest rising an riling against the lions head the contained them, boiling and seething with barely restrained hatred.

The earth was rumbling, vibrating and undulating and his mouth fell open in bewildered awe, was that the true extent of the Hetat's power, to make the very ground seeth beneath his feet. A great tremor made him stagger and he regained his balance axe switching to two hands as he rounded to face the hetat only to see Nesrin's features pointed shrewdly into the tunnel before them, grim determination lining his features even as he began his loping run forwards. 


The dwarf shook his head with a snarl senses reattuning the furies in the earth squealing under constant pounding An endless sea, the drumming run of thousands of feet and he pulled his throwing axe from the earth with grim determination. Thousands were coming for them, the world around them trembling at their call even as the qualm moved to meet them.

He was fresh, not wearied by battle liked the others, his grip upon the furies barely tested, the riled spirits around him mingling with the adrenaline of blood shed, the sudden thrill of the killing blow, of watching a skull sunder before his very eyes. He could still see the kill, it still repeated over and over, a mantra of hatred and disgust interspersed by wary gratitude. 

A nervous glance at the man with the blue scimitar, his face twisted by emotions magnified beyond his comprehension, he was overcome by turmoil and cleft apart by grief, the sudden howling scream of anguish setting his teeth on edge, his step suddenly hesitant.

Then he saw them, he had felt them, but to see them was to truly believe them, to comprehend the sheer magnitude of the task. His axe switched to a two handed grip even as he broke into a sprint, legs pounding, a deep rush of adrenaline, a return to the days of old. So often he had rushed to battle as part of the line, met the charging mass of the horde with brute strength. Yet now he had an ally.

He ducked, one hand slapping into the earth below, fingers biting deep into the earth. He could feel the furies, coaxing and gentle they flocked to him even as he let out a grunting cry of exertion. Metals and stones were danced to his will yet anger and hatred was bubbling in his veins as he pushed more power into the ground beneath him, the process speeding even as the furies screamed in protest. His muscles bunched, the slightest of spasms racking his fingers even as a bead of sweat rolled down his left forearm. The very essence of his warrior spirit oozed into the earth, seeping through the particles, even as the furies embraced the hatred the anger and he felt his fingers forced away, arm thrown backwards.

Regal beauty erupted from the blood soaked dust, long fangs of black onyx glittered within a gaping maw of soft limestone, a kingly wisdom glittering in two sparkling diamonds, rivers of gold oozing through its mane. The lord of the animal kingdom, the king of the dwarven realms leapt on powerful haunches, fangs slicing deep into the flesh of a swooping vicery, it howled even as its corpse toppled from the air. 

They were running together, side by side, the silent race of two predators, the beauty of this moment the product of years of training, a revolution of the concepts he held closest. Worth it, the perfection of this moment of his every essence running into battle alongside him a fair trade for every agonising moment.

A whistle caused a reflexive jerk, his head tilting back arching to leave a claw scything upon open air, a second hiss responded too with a leap, hand meeting a slender foreleg, a yelp of anguish as his wait caused it to lurch mid flight, a contraction of his bicep slamming it to the ground. It riled and struggled, yet he was stone a foot slamming into its chest even as his axe sent its head rolling.

He was moving onwards his axe twisting up even as winged daemon dived outstretched talons knocked aside by the haft of his axe, its snarling face close to him, a sharp jerk of his head, caught it on the bridge of its snout like nose and it squealed, a deft twist of his wrist sending his axe arcing to cleft through its chest.

A long scything claw arced from the very cornor of his vision only to tumble away as his fury pounced upon it the pair tumbling and rolling in a mass of limbs, his fury rising from the midst with powerful grace, blood staining the jet black onyx of its fangs even as it threw back its head in a triumphant roar. 

'This will be a day nobody involved will soon forget.'

The man with the blue scimitar broke the roar as he moved forward with a deft black slash punctuated by quiet words and Daruk gave a little growl, eyes lingering upon the mauled carcass of the vicery.

"So long as we are not amongst the forgotten"


----------



## Therizza

*Sven Ironson*

Nesrin, rose to his feet, and bade the qalm to move. The raw elemental fury Sven felt from Nesrin's mourning halted his steps momentarily, the only thing nudging him to move onward was the vibration of a thousand thousand footfalls, all heading towards them. The horde had located them, he thought, bringing their numbers to bear as they were moving in for the final kill. 

_They are coming Sven... _

Asher was nearby, watching the events unfold. Sven quietly praised the omniscience of the earth and thanked Asher.

_I will call upon you soon_, Sven responded mentally. 

Hoisting his warhammer, Sven bolted towards the shadow of his hetat, who already had dispatched two vicery. Before the waves of vicery crashed upon them, Sven took a moment, undoing his flask, and took a long swig. "Wouldn't want to go out without a taste of the good stuff" he laughed, not particularly directing his comments towards anyone.

Finishing the drink, two warriors emerged from an obscured tunnel entrance. Sven could feel the rage at the loss of Djinn well up inside of him. Now was not the time for rage, but his anger focused him. Charging directly at one of the beasts, Sven deftly dodged an overhead strike, bringing Avalanche across in a sideways arc. The blow staggered the vicery, but the other was closing in on his back.

"Asher! To me my friend!" Sven bellowed as he loosed a throwing axe at the other warriors leg. The impact, while not enough to topple the beast, slowed it long enough for the granite bear to materialize from the earth, leaping as it did, and dragging the beleaguered vicery back into the earth with him.

"One down, a thousand to go!" Sven sang as he swung again at the remaining vicery, who was parrying his attacks with ease. "This is no good" Sven spat, attacking up high to distract the beast, whose legs were now to their knees in what seemed to be mud. Suddenly, the mud turned to stone, and the beast raged as it tried to free itself. "No use, I'm afraid" he laughed as he crushed the warriors head into where it's spine should have been.

Sven could see his comrades locked in similar combats, and tried to work his way closer still. Another warrior charged in his direction, but Sven plunged his fist into the earth, creating a platform rising to the roof of the tunnel, crushing the beast. 

_...This is a day nobody involved will soon forget... _Sven could hear Adam's words, but not see him. 

"Aye, we shan't ferget it my friends! But they shall for they'll all be kilt!"

The words had not left his lips when a downward slash creased Sven's cheek, bleeding badly. Rolling from immediate danger, Sven squared off against his would be assassin. "Oh, now you're gonna get it boyo."


----------



## Santaire

Zacarish paced to Nesrin’s side, his every move slow and cautious. He watched the tear roll down Nesrin’s face with a detached calm. He was silent, trying to hold back the sea of fury that threatened to engulf his mind and expunge every scrap of reason. Then, as Nesrin’s head snapped to the side Zacarish sensed it. The air pulsed with the vibrations of thousands of wings and he could feel the thousands of metal furies approaching their position at speed. He turned to the tunnel entrance just as the Vicery swarmed through.

Zacarish watched as his companions charged forward, slashing and hacking at the Vicery.

Zacarish began to walk forward slowly, watching every movement of his fellows. He saw the Vicery charging, felt its wings beating at the air as it landed and sensed the sword aimed at his heart. He called upon the air furies and with their help he moved so fast that he barely seemed to have moved at all save for a faint blur. He stepped to the side just before the sword pierced his chest and, as the Vicery moved past he touched it with one hand. The touch was gentle, the intent was not. Once again calling on the air furies Zacarish flexed his hand against the Vicery’s arm and the air rippled.

The Vicery was thrown away and slammed into a wall. It stepped from the wall, staggering slightly before falling, its spine shattered. Zacarish was still walking. He broke into a jog as he moved to rejoin his Qalm. Then, as another Vicery attempted to attack him Zacarish began to run. His speed was multiplied many times over by the air furies. He leapt and kicked out, his right foot slamming into the Vicery’s head. It staggered and Zacarish twisted in the air, bringing his hands round so that the palms faced the Vicery.

Then, with a smile he flexed his fingers and splayed his hand. The air pulsed and the Vicery was flung away into the swarm. However it climbed to its feet once more, saved from death by the bodies of its fellows. Zacarish cared not. He sprinted, ducking and weaving around attacks until he was ahead of the rest of his Qalm. Then he kicked a Vicery in the knee causing it to fall to one knee. Zacarish placed one foot on its head and, as he lifted the other from the ground, leapt. He then caught himself on the air so that he was hovering above the swarm. Then and only then did he draw a weapon.

His dagger buried itself to the hilt in the side of a flying Vicery’s head, propelled with a flick of the wrist. Zacarish dragged it from the flesh with the furies and brought it back. He sensed the incoming steel and hurled himself forward, snatching the dagger from the air as he did so. He rolled in the air and spun, seeing Vicery taking flight to face him.

Zacarish thrust his left arm out and his blades flew towards the closest Vicery. All four pierced its eyes and sunk deep into its brain. Then he flew forward. He fell to his knees in the air, sliding beneath a sword blow and stood, sliding to a halt before turning and leaping up. He performed a back flip and his right foot slammed into a Vicery’s chin. The kick impacted and the air around Zacarish foot pulsed, sending the Vicery hurtling upwards to slam headfirst into the ceiling, crushing its neck. He dropped then, landing in the midst of the Vicery with a thud. He drew his long sword and prepared to continue the fight...


----------



## apidude

Still feeling the grim purpose that filled the void left when Djinn had sacrificed himself, Aalrik sensed the oncoming tide of Vicrery through the wood of the bows and spear shafts they carried. 

He silently moved as Nesrin was bent over the spot where Djinn had died until he was in the center of the others. He would need room around him to draw and fire and from the center of the Qalm he would be shielded from the Vicrey long enough to make his arrow work count. Also, he would be able to watch each of the members around him giving aid when an arrow in the right place at the right time could save a comrade's life.

The Earth Walkers were focusing their senses on the ground before them, they glanced at each other and at Nesrin, then, with a grim tightening of their jaws they grasped their weapons firmly. Aalrik saw Sven's lips begin to move silently and the ground before him began to shake as the Vicrey drew closer. 

Aalrk did a quick count of his quiver. 50 arrows including 18 of the small, light shafts of the Vicrey. 

"Well, that should be enough to be getting on with." he thought. He pulled one of his arrows from the quiver and, with thumb and forefinger, smoothed the raven-feather fletchings as he nocked the arrow onto his bowstring. "At the rate the swam is moving I may only have 10 or 20 seconds unimpeded shooting before they are on us. Then it will be every shot will be through friends and into close combat." 

He remembered the training sessions where he was to hit a small coin sized target that was being magically moved through dim, uneven light. "This might be a bit more of a challenge as I would imagine that before long flames of fire will make the light even more uncertain."

Then, with a quick pull he drew and loosed an arrow-shaft into the tunnel opening. The arrow sped into the darkness and he sensed it strike and heard the angry squealing buzz that meant a hit. 

He nocked another arrow. "Forty-nine left."

"Well, Djinn" he whispered, "here we go. To bad you are going to miss all the fun......"


Again he drew and fired....

... and the swarm erupted from the tunnel's mouth.

And again... "Range: 40 yards, 48 left", he thought. A winged Vicery fell from the sky and was trampled underneath the clawed feet of the swarm...

Again...."20 yards, 47". A guardian stumbled and fell into its companions, an arrow piercing its multifaceted eye. They stopped to tear it to small pieces.

Again...."10 yards, 46". Another winged Vicery fell spinning into a jet of flame and ignited creating a miniature shooting star as it fell among its fellows, charring and searing them as it fell.

Again...."point blank, 45". Over Sven's shoulder into the neck of the beast he was fighting. It stumbled and nearly fell, giving Sven the opening he needed. His hammer, a blurred of motion, smashed into the beast and it crumpled.

Again...."point blank, 44". An arrow pierced two of the winged Vicery which had been teamed against Zacharish.

Again "43"....

and again "42"....

and "41"....

"40"....

"39"....

.


----------



## Midge913

*Update #20*

All (except Jackinator):Robb's rear guard action allows each of you to make the mouth of the tunnel that Nesrin ran down, following him at break neck speed as he rushes down the tunnel. As you all push down the tunnel behind Nesrin, you are assailed on all sides by Vicery warriors. Ahead of you Nesrin becomes death incarnate. Fists of stone erupt from the walls of the tunnel crushing Vicery in iron grips and pulling them back into the walls. Tendrils of flame snake out from the head of his massive axe, incinerating insectiod bodies to ash. Vicery warriors fall from the sky incased in ice, shattering into thousands of crystaline pieces upon the ground as they strike. Almost visible columns of air blast forward crushing vicery to pulp against the walls, the ground, the ceiling, and each other. Beside him his Apelike Earth fury launches itself into the ranks of the enemy with fearles abandon, killing the Vicery in droves, his Snake like Fire fury by its side. You can feel his fury radiating across the bond, growing more present, the coals of his rage growing hotter and hotter as you advance. He roars out battle cries in a language you don't recognize, but his frenzied assault spurs you to fight on ever harder. 

Robb (Lord Ramo): As you fight, covering the rear of the party, Solomon joins you. His bow string humming as he fires the last of his arrows into the throng of Vicery warriors that strives to overwhelm the Qalm from the rear. As the last of his arrows sails away into the darkness, his 10" long steel blades spring from his sleeves and he screams at you over the noise of battle, humming wings, and chattering insect mandibles, "Robb, we must work together to keep them from breaking the line! I will do what I can to disable and slow them down making it easier for you to kill them in numbers." You will take two injuries, one minor, one major but not debilitating. Dont forget about your manifested fury, for he will enter the fight alongside you. [Get with me on messenger and we will sort out your cooperative effort with Solomon.]

Adam (Serpion5): **** goes into a frenzy, clawing, slashing with her beak, and buffeting vicery with blasts of wind from her outstretched wings. You move faster than you have ever moved before, your mind and body becoming a blur as you feed off the rage that now fuels **** and the ire that floods across the bond from the rest of the Qalm, Nesrin in particular. Kill 5-6 Vicery, with **** taking another, but in the process you take 4 medium wounds. Cuts on your arms, legs, and torso, that while serious are not mortal. However they are bleeding profusely and they could become a problem if left unattended. 

Daruk (Deathbringer): Roaring its challenge beside you your Earth Fury launches itself once more into the horde of insectoid bodies that threaten to surround the Qalm. You yourself bring all the powers at your disposal to bear as you and your Qalm fight their way down the tunnel, following in Nesrin's wake. Your armor protects you from most of the blows that inevitably find their mark in the desperate press of this melee, but as you make your way behind Nesrin, you do take 3 minor wounds as blades, claws, and mandibles find weak points in your plate. Despite the fact that you do take some minor wounds, you are able to take 6-7 Vicery, your fury taking 2-3 more. 

Sven (Therizza): In the midst of the melee you find yourself positioned next to the newcomer Dwarf and feelings of home overwhelm you as you fight beside one of your kin once more. Asher joins the new Dwarfs lion Fury adding his bulk and might to push back the Vicery on the other side of the tunnel from where the Dwarf's defense and assault is concentrated. Bring all of your earth walking abilities to bear to slay 6-7 Vicery, Asher taking 2-3 more. Though you fight like mad you blocking and striking with Avalanche, you still take several wounds, 3 minor and 2 medium. They are annoying and distracting, two of them rather deep and in need of attention, but for the moment you are able to fight on without hinderance. 

Zacarish (Santaire): You see red. Your rage combined with the anger of the rest of the Qalm and Nesrin's unbriddled fury is more than you can contain. YOu become a whirlwind of blades and metal crafting. It is as if the furies contained in the Vicery's blades refuse to fight you, twisting out of shape and dulling as your assault reaches them. You are able to kill 6-7 Vicery, but in your berzerk rage you are oblivious to the response of the vicery, shrugging off wounds that you take. You are wounded, but in the state that you are in you barely notice, fighting on without regard for your own safety. Unless you get ahold of your rage and center yourself and think about the fight you are in, this rage may be your undoing. 

Aalrik (Apidude): Nestled in the middle of the Qalm, you take every opportunity to loose an arrow at any vicery that presents itself. Your arm is a blur as it draws an arrow from your quiver, draws, and looses. The string of your bow fairly hums with the speed at which you ply your craft. Despite the efforts of the Qalm, several Vicery do break through, closing on you to get at you in close combat. Use your bow, your arrows, swords, and Fury craft to beat them back off of you to keep your arrows flying. You burn through another 15 arrows this update, slaying as many Vicery, wounding 2 more and killing one in close combat to give yourself room to fire. You take 4 wounds, 1 superficial to your brow, 2 more minor wounds, and one more medium wound that while not disabiling will become a problem if left unattended for an extended period of time. 

Isira (Jackinator): As you get your balance from beeing tossed from the creatures back, both Belak and Sol rush to your aid. Belak lunges forward longsword in one hand, his other hand formed into a long curved blade, sharpened on the concave side like a scythe, the Lancer so focused on you and the pain from its punctured eye doesn't even notice him dart forward and in the wet snicker snack of Belak's the creatures cries of pain ring out, its right foreleg severed at the base, before it can gain its balance Belak makes for the rear leg on the same side. Meanwhile you watch as Sol slowly steps back into the ring of fire on the floor. He cries out in pain, not one of physical pain, but as if he is sharing the anguish of the furies living in those flames. With a roar he thrusts his arms up and the flames in the ring for several feet along its curve on either side of him explode to life, rising 6' high, the sudden heat threatening to steal the breath from you lungs. With an odd motion, familiar to you as some sort of martial art, but different all the same he draws his hands in in a circular motion as if drawing the fire to him and with a grunt he thrusts his hands forward and the fire rolls forward, to living tendrils of flame rush towards the other Lancer, bathing it in the fire as Sol explodes from the ground landing on the things chest as it rears back to try and escape the flame to no avail. His hands still alight with fire he lands blow after blow into its face, turing the things visage to a black sizziling pulp. Rush to aid Belak in dispatching the other Lancer.

After its demise you stop to catch your breath. Glancing at Sol watch as with a wave of his hand he extinguishes the ring of fire. His display of Fire Walking surprises you, but you attribute its strenght to the unpredictable nature of that element and his recent anguish at both your discovery of the dead Tashiri and the sudden devastating feelings of loss through the bond. But before you are able to think to much on it, a voice, strong and clear echoes in your mind, unmistakeably Nesrin's._ "Isira, Sol, Belak, we are unable to meet with you. The hive itself has awoken and we are assailed on all sides. Follow the bond. Trust it to bring you to us. We go to kill the Queen!"
_
Sol is the first to recover from the strength of Nesrin's sending, spinning in a circle with his eyes closed. Suddenly he stops, pointing in a south westerly direction. _ "That way,"_ he barks. As soon as he says it you know he is right. You can feel your Qalm, like a beacon pulsing on the horizon. Running to the mouth of the cavern you know that you need to take a right to go in the direction of your commrades. 

[OOC: This is the last update before you reach the Queen's chamber. Prepare yourselves for the fight of your lives.]


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

Though it had come a foreign concept to him, the rage he felt via **** gave Adam a measure of strength and power he had not felt in many many years. For all of his cunning and guile, **** displayed raw fury and aggression. She swept down the tunnel before the Windwalker as he rushed in behind her. Her wings directed blasts of wind power into the midst of their foes with flaps of her glowing wings. 

The pendant around Adam's neck shimmered with each strike as the bond between them and the others of the qualm remained strong. A vicery would be thrown towards him by a gust of wind and Adam would become a whirlwind of blade work around it. The creature died without a sound and Adam moved on searching for another kill. Nesrin's ferocious cries could be heard over it all, but not understood. As the Hetat rained fire on his foes up ahead, Adam remained a blur just behind. Never in his life had he moved this fast. Two more vicery died in a similar manner to the first and a fourth fell to ****'s talons as it overstretched itself in an effort to cut the hawk spirit from the air. 

Adam was caught unaware as one of the creatures he had thought slain lashed out, inflicting a shallow cut across the back of his leg. Caught on his off side, the windwalker buffeted the prone warrior back onto a jagged piece of rock. The impact dislodged a piece of stone from the ceiling above which landed with a heavy thud on the young man's outstretched sword arm. 

'Damnit!' He cursed. 'We don't have time for this crap! ****!'

At his mental command, the hawk surged forward alongside her master. Both of them targeted the same large flying warrior who seemed to be the biggest visible threat. **** surged upwards, carrying Adam by one hand before launching him forward. He flew like a missile, glancing off one flying warrior before hitting his target in midair. The two grappled for a moment before the young human leaped clear. He could not overwhelm the creature with brute force, but he was able to sever one of its wing tendons before leaping clear. He bounced off the cave wall, soaring down to where the vicery had landed and impacting it blade first. 

The strike was devastating, splitting the creature apart from head to waist, but the momentum of the leap carried him further and he rolled across the ground to avoid the worst of the injury. 

The act had slain his foe, but as a result several of the superficial wounds he had accrued began bleeding. Though this itself was not a major issue for the time being, he did not have the time to worry as more vicery were even now closing in. It would become a problem, but not one he could deal with now. 

With a grunt of effort he lifted himself to his feet. Drawing once more on ****'s rage and the power that flowed across the bond, Adam prepared to greet his next foe...


----------



## Santaire

Zacarish’s mind was buried beneath his rage. For all his care, all his focus on preventing his anger from breaking free he could not contend with the anger of his Qualm and Nesrin also. He tore through the Vicery and all his skill seemed to have been forgotten in the red haze that obscured his vision. His sword flashed this way and that and such was the strength behind it and the speed of the strikes that the Vicery fell like wheat before the scythe.

One fell with its head sliced clean off its shoulders by a single rage driven blow before its corpse was propelled into 2 others to impair their movement. The first of them died with its thorax split wide open. Zacarish left his long sword embedded in the second’s head and moved through the swarm, striking foes with the air furies. One charged him with a long halberd. He stepped to one side, grasped the shaft of the weapon and thrust his foot into the Vicery. The pulse of air that followed the kick shattered its ribs and sent it flying off into the swarm.

With the halberd in his hand Zacarish stormed forward. He used the shaft as a weapon as well as the blade, shattering bones with it. He took a wound to the leg, turned, and drove the halberd clean through the Vicery’s torso. He wrenched it free and took another cut on his arm as he did so. He ducked beneath a cut and drove his body upward. The halberd skewered the Vicery and Zacarish slammed it down into the ground. Unarmed now he moved forward, took a cut to his back, turned and tore the swords out of the Vicery’s hands with a brief mental impulse, caught them in his own and sliced it clean in 2, separating the thorax from the abdomen.

His mind fought its way free of the shackles of rage and saw the danger he was in. It fought to retake his mind and control him. This inner battle caused him to slow and he sustained 3 more cuts before his mind finally won. Fighting now with a cold grace quite separate from the rage that still threatened to once again overwhelm all reason he plunged deeper into the swarm.


----------



## apidude

*Aalrik - Wood Walker - Wood Elf*

Draw...Aim ...Release. 
A streak as the arrow sped outward over the shoulder of Daruk and transfixed the Vicery approaching from his blind left as he engaged several Vicery on his right. 

Before the fletching of the arrow had cleared the the bow, Aalrik had snatched another from his quiver.

Nock... Draw... Aim... Release. 
The arrow was invisible as it shot out from the center of the Qalm over Nesrin's head. The only trace of its passage was the vortices of swirling dust as it embedded itself in the compound eye of a vicery. The creature fell, twitching, its claws scrabbling at its eye as it was trampled by the rest of the swarm. 

Nock...Draw...Aim...Release. Two flying Vicrey fell from the air, impaled by the same arrow.

Draw...Aim...Release. One of the guardian Vicrey stumbled and fell, an arrow embedded at the base of its neck at juncture of its neck armor.

Aim...Release. The blade of a Vicrey warrior was deflected as it flashed toward Robb's back while he and Soloman were engaged with other enemy warriors at the rear of the Qalm. A second arrow splintered the armor of the creature, the impact knocking it back to the ground, its head bouncing as it hit. It twitched then stilled.

Release... Yellow ichor splattered as an armor piercing arrow impacted the head of a Vicrey and passed through, exploding from the back of its head to sink itself into the neck of another warrior.

As he followed Nesrin down the tunnel Aalrik's bowstring buzzed as one arrow followed another, speeding out from the center of the Qalm in a fan of deadly armor-piercing points. The members of the Qalm felt the gusts of air as the arrows flew past, sometimes less than a centimeter from their bodies. Each arrow dropped a Vicrey that was trampled beneath the claws of the horde and the boots of the Qalm.

But for each of the creatures which dropped with an arrow in its vitals, two more rushed forward. Three broke through the gaps created as the Qalm members shifted in their fight and sprinted toward Aalrik.

Draw...Aim...Release. One fell with an arrow through its hip then the others were on top of Aalrik.

He swung his ironwood bow, willing the furies of the wood to harden it and one of the creatures dropped, its head oozing yellow fluid from the blow as Aalrik sidestepped away from the other. Spinning away from the remaining Vicrey and dropping his bow he snatched Aor and his dagger from their sheathes at his hip. As fast as he moved, Aor's blade barely caught the Vicrey's blade, the impact jarring Aalrik's sword arm. The saw-toothed blade deflected from the end of Aalrik's hasty parry and gouged a cut over his left eye. 

The pain was something he knew was there but it was irrelevant, something distant, happening to someone else.

He sliced an underhand cut with his dagger at the creature. The 40cm blade glanced off of the creatures thick chitinous armor and Aalrik ducked from the slicing saw-edged weapon of the Vicrey's counter-blow. The weapon hit Aor and skidded down his arm, its razor sharp edge slicing a thin layer of skin, bloodying his arm. The force of the blow again knocked Aalrik back a step. He parried another blow with his dagger but gasped as he felt a sharp pain explode from his side as the creatures claws opened a gaping wound in his side, exposing his ribs. 

"Isolate the pain," he thought, "make it small." As he had been trained and practiced many times, he took the pain and instantly set it to one side. It was there but it was something like an article of clothing. He could feel it if he tried, but it receded from his consciousness.

Grimly, with a growing anger smoldering in his eyes, he again he stabbed out with his dagger, aiming at the creatures eyes. It flinched away from the blow and Aalrik followed with the swing started with Aor as he had feinted with the dagger. Aor, its razor edge glistening, sliced through the creatures neck and its head fell to bounce on the stone floor of the tunnel.

Aalrik quickly looked around him and, sheathing his blades, snatched up his bow.

Blinking blood from his head wound out of his eyes, he released three arrows in a blur of motion and three Vicrey threatening Robb, Sven and Daruk fell in the melee.

He could feel the growing heat of the Qalm's anger and hardening of its purpose through the bond and he felt a surge of kinship with these his battle brothers.

He pulled another arrow from his quiver.....

"This will be a GOOD day......!" he thought grimly and smiled.

Draw... Aim... Release... 

His bowstring thrummed as the arrow flashed outward....

.


----------



## Therizza

The blood was now flowing freely from the cut on Sven’s cheek. Irate and bleeding, Sven had had enough of this particular vicery. Lunging forward, Sven feinted low, and as the Vicery went to block his attack, Asher materialized from the earth below. Roaring in defiance, the granite bear lunged at the vicery warrior, tearing into its exoskeleton. Laughing in glee, Sven leapt toward his prey, smashing the beasts head into its own thorax. 

Bolstered by the kill, Sven charged a pair of vicery advancing towards his fellow dwarf. Laying the first low with a side swipe of Avalanche, the second of the pair disappeared in a mist of ichor as Asher dragged it beneath the cave floor.

“Hail, Master-Dwarf!” Sven shouted over the din of battle to his kinsman. The only reply was a sharp “DUCK!” from Daruk. Instinctively, Sven hit the floor as Daruk smashed Sven’s would be killer to a pulp with a fist transmogrified to stone. Bolting to his feet, Sven thanked his fellow dwarf as they continued forward. The dwarves fought in close formation, their furies boiling from the earth at times to waylay an unwary foe. 

Sven could see Nesrin but just barely as the mountain of a man was surrounded in vicery. Enraged and spurred all at once, Sven rolled forward, rising to a knee as he hurled a handful of pebbles into the crowding vicery warriors. He couldn’t help but laugh, as with a gentle nudge of his thoughts, the pebbles turned into a flurry of stone shrapnel. The razor sharp barbs struck into the pack of vicery just as Sven did so himself. One warrior was taken down by the stone shrapnel assault outright, whilst two others were distracted long enough for Sven to smash their heads together, crumpling like eggshells. 

Finally within earshot of Nesrin, Sven felt a breeze brush past his face. He looked forward in awe, as an arrow had stopped his would be killer dead in its tracks. Glancing back, he could see Aalrik already knocking another arrow. 

"Damn elves and their arrows!" Sven coughed. Wiping his mouth, Sven could see he was coughing up blood. Letting out a bellow as he charged forward, Sven stopped, wincing sharply and grasped his stomach. It would seem that Sven had suffered a deep gash to his abdomen, possibly causing his bloody hacking, and was bleeding badly in its own right. Shrugging off the pain, and wiping the blood away, Sven drove on towards his hetat, hoping none of his entrails would fall out before he could strike a blow at that damned queen.


----------



## deathbringer

A cataclysmic below like the deep rumblings on earthquake emanated from the blood soaked maw of his lions as it raised its head turning to meet his gaze. They were rampant, kings of war and he felt his earth fury leap high, jaws clapping around limbs to pull a winged vicery from the air, a high scream slicing the air as its jaws began to maul the winged creatures ruined torso. He moved to meet a vicery ducking low and flicking his wrists to bring the axe thudding into the vicery's groin, tearing deep into its abdomen. blood gushing to the parched earth as it's legs crumpled and it lay still.

A slashing cut and a second creature crumpled as he heard a voice below at his shoulder

“Hail, Master-Dwarf!” 

The brother dwarf so recently lying still and deathly pail stood proud and strong, the vigour of life returned too him and Daruk felt his lips twist into a smile which turned to snarl as a winged beast loomed, slashing at the dwarfs blind side and he hollored

"Duck"

Instant trust as sven flattened himself to the ground and Daruk felt his fist clench, felt the earth 's weight behind his twisting blow, the vicery's features exploding in a mass of pulp and gore and he cried out in the old tongue.

"Who can resist the wrath of the kin that dwell in the deeps."

He was turning to Sven a smile twisting his features only to feel an arrow whip across his shoulder, the hiss of air in his ear causing him to stumble, partially prone as he searched round watching an unnoticed vicery on his left tremble, arrow still quivering in his neck before toppling to the ground. Relief flooded him before anger returned and he wheeled searching for the source with a bitter snarl.

The bowmen did not seem to notice his muffled curses to his mothers nether regions, already a second arrow splitting another Vicery's skin casuing the beast to drop like a stone. Fucking elf, could have spit him like a common animal.

His blood was up irritation confounded by blood lust and he let himself fall, struggling to restrain the hatred building inside. He was on his knees hands planted in the earth and he sought for inner peace, to drive the anger from his body, to become a weapon once more. 

His fingers raked through the earth and he could feel the furies envelop the blood, savour it, they were parched, crushed by thousands of feet, begging for more, soak the soil in enemy blood. Vengeance.

His breath was catching in his chest and he gripped the wolf head on his breast. Home earth to sooth the rage, to comfort and condole him. He felt his blood fall even as the feeling the flames warmed his hands, heat. 

The fire furies demanded a champion, they had lost a brother, snuffed out like a candle. They were dancing a dance of hatred and vengeance, an eye for an eye and he felt their power oozing into him his fist was beginning to burn, the very flesh blistering but he held strong and embraced the pain, felt it build.

Vicery were swarming round him, the earth furies teeth hacking and savaging, as it drove them away from its master, yet the circle was tightening. Daruk raised an arm that had begun to seer white hot as the fire furies twirled and twisted.

Then the fist opened and the furies prostrated themselves. His vision was wreathed in flame, his ears filled with screams, a deep breath bringing the smell of charred meat into his lungs. All round him, vicery were burning.


----------



## Lord Ramo

Robb darted backwards, narrowly avoiding the crude and chipped blade of a Vicery warrior. Even as he moved backwards his blade moved in an arc, blocking another attack to his left. Robb was vastly outnumbered, the main swarm of Vicery was what he attempted to hold back, performing a rearguard action for the rest of the Qalm, allowing them to move ahead and begin the battle to get to the Queens lair.

His spare hand dug into a pouch on his belt, and he pulled it out, throwing shards of metal into the air as he did so. The metal shards stormed forward like tiny arrows towards the onrushing Vicery, Robb guiding the shards so that they impacted where they could do the most damage to the Vicery, the eyes and any gaps in their hard shells. He was rewarded with screams as he blinded and maimed a host of Vicery, and he quickly capitalized on this, leaping forward he quickly dispatched those that he had injured, tearing them apart with Fang, his blade finding the ****** in their armour to dispatch his foes.

This was a short lived victory, he knew it. The pressing weight of Vicery bodies beared down upon him, and he was forced backwards once more, Vicery pouring like a tidal wave that could not be stopped. Robb had no illusions, there was no way he could stop the horde of Vicery alone, heck it would take a lot of Tashiri to destroy them utterly. He ducked underneath a curved blade, thrusting his blade into the belly of the Vicery that had attacked him, and twisting his blade revelled in its screams for a second before wrenching his blade out and taking its head from its shoulder.

An arrow whistled past him burying itself in a Vicery that Robb hadn’t noticed that was about to attack his left side. He turned as a dozen more arrow shafts flew past him with unerring accuracy and buried themselves in the throats and eyes of the onrushing Vicery, causing the ones that were still alive when they had been hit to fall to the ground, only to be crushed by their brethren who charged heedlessly over their fallen companions. 

Solomon leapt into view, bow sliding back to rest on his back as he fired the last of his arrows off. Even as he placed his bow on his back Robb could feel him through his bond to the rest of the Qalm use his power, a swamp being created in front of the onrushing Vicery, and vines and mud trapped a majority of them slowing their advance, even above the din of the battle Robb could just hear Solomon yelling over at him, "Robb, we must work together to keep them from breaking the line! I will do what I can to disable and slow them down making it easier for you to kill them in numbers."

Robb nodded once at Solomon before the two of them leapt into the fray, moving through the swamp like ground with ease. Robb ducked underneath a Vicery and felt a foot hit his back as Solomon used him to leap into the air, his twin blades stabbing into the eyes of the Vicery, blinding it. It screeched in pain as Robb severed his head, Solomon ducking underneath his attack so that he could twist around him and injure another Vicery close by. 

The two of them danced through the sea of opponents quickly, Solomon naturally quick, maiming where he could, weaving in and out of Robb’s own attacks, whilst Robb unhindered by his armour that was now secured to his back could move much more freely, being able to dodge the Vicery attacks and deal his own killing blows. As they danced through the swampy area Robb was knocked to one side by Solomon, who with his twin blades parried a Vicery that had been about to kill Robb by cutting him in two. He quickly finished it off before helping Robb to his feet, Robb had no time to thank him as they were attacked by more Vicery. Robb drew his powers inside of him, before throwing a metal storm towards several Vicery trapped by vines. As the metal got closer a howl erupted from it and Terros leapt from it, hitting the trapped Vicery a second after the metal storm, ripping limbs off with his powerful mechanic jaws. Robb had no time to admire his fury’s raw power though, as he spotted a Vicery behind Solomon.

Eager to return the favour he leapt upon the Vicery, cutting it apart whilst taking a cut to the shoulder in return. Whilst not serious it still stung a little, though Robb pushed on. Solomon ducked underneath his blade once more, using his twin blades to maim the legs of a Vicery so Terros could rip it apart with his powerful jaws. Robb snarled as they were being to be pushed back once more, Solomon’s swampy area had slowed down the Vicery but their numbers were too great. Robb pushed Solomon to oneside as a lance was thrown, burying itself in the ground next to them. “There are too many Solomon, we are being overrun. We have to start falling back.” Robb bellowed over the din.

Solomon nodded and the two began backing away, felling any creature that came too close. The Vicery numbers were really beginning to show as two leapt for Robb at the same time, one armed with a spear aimed at his leg, whilst the other wielding an axe went for his head. With no other alternative he tried to twist out of the way of the spear, whilst blocking the axe before killing the 
Vicery that wielded it. For a moment he thought he had been successful, till he felt a tremendous pain flow throughout his body. He howled in pain as he looked down to see the Spear protruding out of his right leg, and with a snarl, cut it in two and took the head of the Vicery.

He had no time to pull the spear out though, and limped backwards, slowly using his blade and metal storms to stop himself being overrun whilst Solomon matched his pace, unwilling to leave him behind. Terros rushed to his side, howling in fury he stood protectively on his flank to stop anyone attacking his weaker side.


----------



## Midge913

*Update #21*

[OOC: Hold onto your butts ladies and germs, it is going to be a big update!]

Robb (Lord Ramo), Aalrik (Apidude), & Sven (Therizza): A roar of fire like you have never heard before echoes in the small confines of the tunnel. Despite the clamor and discordant noise that rings all around you, the sudden explosion of noise and rapid rise in temperature snaps your attention towards the front of the group. Looking you see that Daruk, the deep dwarf is ringed in fire, roaring before him springs a column of flame that fills the entirety of the tunnel. Sven, Robb, and Aalrik it appears that Daruk has lost control as the roaring inferno not only incinerates vicery but appears to envelope Nesrin, Adam, and Zararish as well. Shocked at the Dwarfs actions you almost forget that you are fighting a battle for your lives, but the fact that you do not feel any loss or extreme pain across the bond spurs you back into action as the Vicery press against you once more, their fear of the flames ahead overcome in the heat of battle. 

Zacarish (Santaire) & Adam(Serpion5): As you fight forward against the press of the Vicery, you can't help but think that you will soon be overwhelmed. A roar behind you, the concussive reverberation of heat and flame snaps you attention to the rear. With a dawning moment of comprehension and fear, you see that Daruk, the Deep Dwarf has called upon a firestorm in the confines of the tunnel. A wall of raging fire streaks toward you and you are all but powerless to stop it. In the briefest instant you feel the Air Crafting, the strength of it meaning it could be conjured by none other than Nesrin, before you are tugged forward, vicery flying the sides of the tunnel, pinned by the roaring columns of air that pull you onward. As the crafting is released, you find that you are by Nesrin's side. You are amazed that he has made it so far down the tunnel by himself, seemingly lost in the heat of battle. His two manifested furies fight on, filling the hallway ahead with dead vicery. Nesrin himself bleeds from numerous cuts and puncture wounds on his arms, including a rather severe flow of blood coming from his lower left side. If he is suffering from the wounds it is not evident and he turns to you and shouts, "Lend your strength, call your aire furies, let your power flow through the bond, give me control!" Calling forth your air furies, you feel Nesrin lead the crafting, but you only have a small moment to think on the strange sensation that the group crafting creates before you feel the fatigue of the working. Nesrin is drawing upon much of your strenght, lacing your Air furies with fire, and before you a great curved shield of air forms, in its depths startling flashes and sparkles of light. The lance of fire, the flames Daruk has created strike the shield, the force of the blow almost knocking you from your feet, before the curve of the shield turns the column of flame upon itself, sending it roaring backdown the hallway from whence it came. 

Robb (Lord Ramo), Aalrik (Apidude), & Sven (Therizza): A voice rings out in your mind, strong and sure, "Younglings, stand still, you will be protected." you are barely able to react to Nesrin's warning when a roiling wave of living fire washes over you. At first you fear being burned but there seems to be a small pocket of space, an area of cool air within which you stand, the fire rolling all around you, but not touching your skin. 

Robb (Lord Ramo): You lose sight of Solomon as he is lost in the roaring flames, but you worry is soon interrupted as a Vicery soldier falls through the fire into the small pocket of space you now occupy. One of its limbs dangles by a thread of sinew, but it falls almost directly ontop of you, your sword falling to the ground next to, forced from your grip by the impact. Its carapace is blazingly hot and you sustain a couple of burns to your hands (if your character was wearing gloves or gauntlets, you are spared the injury, but they begin to smoke from the contact with the enemy, the leather burning form the contact). You can tell the thing is cooking from the inside out, but the pain has driven it into a made rage as it pummels you with spiked limbs and snaps out at you with its clacking mandibles. You take a couple of brusies to the face and neck, but you are able to finish it off without further injury. Be creative in its dispatch since you are without your primary blade. 

Aalrik (Apidude): As the fires roll over you, protectively shield your bow from the roaring fire. As you move the very ends of the several of the arrows in your quiver brush the flames, catching alight easily. Even though you react quickly, the fletching of several arrows are ruined beyond repair. Taking a quick count, you find that you only have seven shafts left. The prospect of facing the queen so limited in ammunition, begins to make you wonder if you and your Qalm have a chance of surviving. The only comfort you can find comes from the piercing screams and explosive pops as the Vicery die all around you in the river of fire Daruk has conjured. 

Sven (Therizza): Surrounded by a river of living flame, you can't help but be amazed at the power your Dwarf-kin wields. Knowing that Nesrin is involved in the crafting you know that Daruk does not accomplish what he does alone, but still the brute strength of his fury craft makes you glad that he is part of your group, not to mention that he is another Dwarf fills you with pride and confidence that you and yours will win out the day. As you contemplate on this, a vicery spear juts out of the flames, the arm of its owner wreathed in fire, sizzling and popping as the skin melts and carapace buckles. The spear catches you in the side of the foot, hitting the bone. With a roar of pain and rage, smash the offending limb with Avalanche, and begin to tend to your foot. 

Daruk (Deathbringer): The fire furies consume you. All you can think of is killing each and everyone of your enemies, the famous blood rage of the Deep Dwarves, the legacy of your ancestors holds you within its blinding grip, every other thought save the destruction of your foes washed from your mind as the fires roar within your breast. Actual flames, mimicking the fire of your rage rocket down the hallway and you only barely register the thought that members of your Qalm, including Nesrin where fighting ahead of you. You feel, through your connection with the furies as vicery die, you think that you would also feel it, to be able to discern if a companion, one who was not Vicery was touched by the flames, such is your connection with the furies you wield. Startling you, the flames begin to return in your direction. Flying back at you from somewhere down the tunnel, the turning point a powerful crafting of fire. Only another Tashiri, one skilled in the aspect of fire would be able to do such a thing. You laugh in joy and ectasy as your fires, bring death to all those around you, parting by you as a river does around a stone, and roaring down the tunnel through which the vicery follow you. It is only as the crafting continues do you begin to feel a flicker of worry behind the battle rage that threatens to consume you. Too much of your energy, too much of your life force his being drawn upon to maintain the firey inferno. You begin to see blackness at the corners of your vision and with it your crafting begins to falter. 

Zacarish (Santaire) & Adam(Serpion5): Just as you think you cannot maintain the your part of the crafting any longer, the fires on the other side of the shield begin to go out. Dropping to the ground in exhaustion, you see Nesrin, fall to one knee, the same exhaustion gripping him as well. Looking down the tunnel in the direction you had been traveling you see light. Not the flicker of firelight, but a constant steady glow, similar to the lightglobes in the Talisariat. Hauling yourself to you feet you see that Nesrin sees it as well. He looks at you, his expression somehow incorporating exhaustion, worry, and glee all in one and he says, "we have arrived. Get the others, we must move quickly before they regroup." Rush down the tunnel to gather your fellows, help them to their feet, whatever needs to be done. 

All (Except Jackinator & Splitpaw): Gathering together around Nesrin you take stock of your injuries and equipment. All around you are the burning and smoking corpses of the Vicery. The level of destruction caused by Daruk's crafting is amazing. Daruk, Nesrin looks at you with a level calculating look, but still fierce pride shines behind his eyes. Sven, Solomon rushes to deal with your foot and after a brief but painful healing you find that it can bear weight again without much difficulty. You are all tired, worn out from the extended battle, but Nesrin speaks, his slow bass voice instill in you purpose and drive. "Well my Warriors," he begins, "we have arrived at last. Sven assist me in sealing this tunnel. We will need to find a different way out of the hive once our mission is complete, but while we are engaged with the queen and her Broodlings, we do not want the hive to fall upon us." He places his hand on the wall of the tunnel, Sven joining him you find that he is directing the earth furies to seal not only this tunnel, but all the other tunnels that lead into the queens chamber save one, a small side tunnel, down which you can feel three of your Qalm mates moving through the bond. The rest of you remain quiet as the two Earth Walkers ply their craft. After they finish, Nesrin turns to you once more, pride in his eyes, as well as flaring across the bond. "We are at the cusp, no turning back from this point forward. The queen must die if we are to live. If the queen dies, the rest of the hive should fall to chaos and pain. I have seen it before. With the death of the queen, the hive will die. If you have the marble I gave you, now would be a good time to use it." He looks around at you, his expression turning grim, "you may not have another chance." Consuming the slightly glowing orb, you feel a running chill followed by a wave of heat run through your entire body. You gasp in suprise as the wounds you have sustained heal and renewed energy courses through your body. Somewhere, deep down, you know that this is just a high, that your body is still exhausted and injured, but the blood has stopped flowing, wounds are sealed over with a thin layer of flesh, muscles straining to hold wounded tissue together, but at this point you dont care, desire to see this enemy finished overwhelms your caution. Ready yourself to enter the quietly glowing chamber a few hundred yards ahead of you.

All (Except Jackinator & Splitpaw): As you follow Nesrin's lead into the chamber, your goal, you feel a growing unease grow in your breast as the quiet of the room begins to knaw at your nerves. The entirety of the chamber finally comes into view, all aroud the walls are a honeycomb lattice of small alcoves, inside which you see writhing larva, ranging from the size of a small sausage to the size of a good sized pony. Each has a gaping maw, that steadily opens and closes, as if searching for sustenance with every breath. Placed in each larval chamber is a glowing crystal, about the size of a watermelon that emits a steady greenish light, bathing the whole place with an eerie palor. To the back, on a raised dias, rests what can only be the Queen. A huge hulking monstrosity, the foreend resembling some horribly large spider, eight hairy, segmented legs, curled under its body, apparently atrophied from non-use. 10' long antanae wave in the air, sprouting from a great head, with eight milk white, blind eyes. Crushing mandibles clacking in the air. From its mid-section, a huge egg-sac, almost 50' long, and 30' in diameter, runs along the end of the dias, the birthing end, resting in a channel of mud and some damp slime. As you watch, the beast contracts, and a shining orb, beautiful and deadly squelches out, rolling down the channel into a 4" deep pool of primordial sludge, excreted by the queen herself. 

Another few steps and the Queen's antanae go rigid, swiveling in the Qalm's direction, cracking like whips as they come to rest. With a bellowing screech, the likes of which you have never heard, the sound going straight through you, disorienting you for a few seconds, the queen attempts to get her useless legs below her hulking form. A presence, sheer malevolence permates your mind before Nesrin bellows, "Close your minds! Focus on the bond!" Each of you, for a few terrifying seconds feel your control of your own body waver, before your thoughts are flooded with images of your fellows and scenes of you defeating the Queen. Looking around you find Solomon, feet set, hand outstretched, limbs shaking with effort. Across the bond, in your minds you hear him speak, "I don't know how long I can hold her back. Go! Now! Kill her!" 

Needing no further prompting the rest of the Qalm rushes forwards, but as they do the Queen's shrill cry is answered by 3 others, and scuttling from behind the queen flowing like snakes across the sandy ground, come three monstrous creatures, thousands of legs carrying them forward as their front halves rear off the ground. Eight strong pincher ended arms ripple up its midsection, ending in an eyeless head. Ringing the head are four more taloned apendages, and hidden in the midst of all of this, a slender mouth from which protrudes a wicked looking barbed probiscus, a purple colored slime coating each of the barbs. Behind the beast's body, twin tails, each tipped in a barbed sting, whip towards you, as if seeking tender flesh. Despite their size, towering at least a foot above a normal man, though they would stand eye to eye with Nesrin, they move with uncanny speed and are in your midst in the space of a heartbeat. 

Aalrick (Apidude): You are closest to Nesrin as one of the Broodlings streaks towards the left side of the group. Open up on it with the last of your shafts! I want good description, in detail of your shots, their placement, and the difficulty or ease of placing them there. Remember that this is going to be close quarters archery, something you excel at, but you are going to need to duck and weave around mandibles, stings, and posioned barbs. At one point one of the Broodlings tails, whips around your defenses, sneaks around behind you, and stabs, you feel the impact, but the leather of your quiver, and your clothing keep it from penetrating. Wriggling out of the straps, you watch in horror as the leather of your quiver melts and bubbles. Your arrows spent draw your weapons and jump into combat with Nesrin. Work with him to destroy the beast. [I will get with you to let you know what of Nesrin's moves you are going to need to include in your post]

Zacarish (Santaire): You are on the right flank of the Qalm and are the first to meet the second of the broodlings. It is fast, but your fury enhanced speed is faster. Duck and weave in and out of the beast's talons and pinchers. Though you are able to evade its attacks so far you are hard pressed to do lasting damage with your blade, the Broodlings carapace is just too thick. Swirling around the beasts legs you are able to get in a few strikes that draw blood, and you are even lucky enough to sever one of the things sting tipped tails. However, in a burst of speed the Broodling spins on you, two of its pinchers snapping you up off the ground. As the beast lifts you to its mouth, apparently intent on delivering the deadly poision that drips from its maw, you wriggle and writhe, but are unable to break its grip. You feel that this is the end, when a roar of air followed by an explosion of heat and flame on the things back, causes it to drop you. Sol, seemingly come from nowhere rushes toward you, quickly helping you off the ground. "Distract it," he simply says, fire roaring from his open palms, "I will get around it and attack it from the back. When it focuses on me, hit it with your blade storms." Work with Sol to bring the beast low. [You will be writing for Sol Santaire. Get with me if you need any assitance.]

Sven (Therizza): Standing on Nesrin's right side as you entered the Queen's chamber, you plant your feet and meet the lead Broodling head on. Its talons and pinchers flash, in and out. You take several small wounds from those, but through fancy footwork and parries with Avalanche you are able to avoid the poisoned stings. Your crushing blows do some damage, and Asher is able to cause significant damage to several of its legs but you are unable to keep ahead of it. As you plant your feet to land a crushing blow, you hear a warning from behind and feel a heavy impact between your shoulders that throws you to the ground. As you rise you hear a sceam of pain, followed by the snicker-snack of steel cutting through flesh. Turning you see Belak, one of the beasts tails protruding from his back, though it is now severed from the body. Stoicly the Metal Walker, pulls the barb out, but you can already see the damage the virulent toxin is doing to the dark elfs flesh. "Come," he cries, rising to his feet, sword flashing to dismember the other barbed tail, "Lets kill this thing." You can tell the poison must be causing Belak severe pain, but whether by his craft of force of will, Belak shows none of it. Instead throwing himself at the Broodling with reckless abandon. Land the killing blow then see what you can do for Belak, though it will likely be very little. 

Robb (Lord Ramo), Daruk (Deathbringer), & Adam (Serpion5): Despite the fact that he is locked in mortal combat with one of the Broodlings, Nesrin sees you and pointing at the queen, bellows, "Go!!!! Finish it! Hit her with everything you have got." As you rush forward to engage the queen, you hear her rear back, a gurgling in her throat as she spits a large wad of yellowish liquid at you. Robb you catch the blob on your shield and almost instantaneously drop it as the liquid, obviously acid eats through the metal as if it were nothing. Work in concert to bring the queen down, avoiding grasping legs that try and sweep you toward the Queen's mouth and snapping mandibles, Flailing Antanae that strike with the force of a whip, Daruk you take a blow from one of these and it knocks you from your feet, leaving a heavy bruise across your shoulder, and flying projectile acid. Work it out between the three of you over messenger or in the OOC thread how you are going to take her out and who is going to land the killing blow. 

Jorn (Splitpaw): [Sorry you are last mate, just kinda how it worked out in my head] Rushing aimlessly through the tunnels and caverns of the Vicery nest you are torn apart on the inside. Your Qalm, all of them, Hetat Rockfist, Neala, Bortun, all of them dead. How you escaped you do not know, you can only remember being pushed to the side, Neala, the high elf Fire Walker, sacrificing herself for you, the youngest member of the Qalm. The backlash across the bond with them is almost enough to bring you to you knees. You run, avoiding Vicery warriors, trying everything you can to escape the pain of your Qalm's death. You enter into a particularly dark tunnel and trip. You are flung to the ground, rolling down hill, careening off of rocks and other things before you reach the bottom of what appears to be some sort of air shaft. All around you you see glowing crystal. It emits an eerie green light that bathes the curious scene in front of you with its malevolent glow. Immediately ahead of you, a slimy larva, about the size of a large boarhound twists in its alcove, gaping maw reaching for you, intent to consume your flesh. Dispatching it quickly, you move forward, the scene opening up in front of you. A Qalm, Tashiri warriors, their ivory garb stained with the efluvia of combat, soaked in the blood of their enemies as well as their own, does battle with a group of Broodlings. This is the Queen's chamber, the goal of this mission. In your ignorance you have stumbled upon the very spot you and your Qalm sought. Here you have an opportunity to make sure that their deaths are not in vain. Directly across from the mouth of the alcove you are in you see a severly wounded Dark Elf and a Dwarf doing battle with a Broodling. Rush to their aid. Work with the Dwarf to bring the beast low. [You can work with Therizza in the OOC thread, or you can just help in your post to bring it to the point where he can deliver the killing blow.]

Isira (Jackinator): I am not sure what is going on with your participation in this RP, but if you would like an update please get with me and I will let you know what is going on with your character.


----------



## Spiltpaw the Deceiver

"Go Jorn, just go we will hold them off for aslong as we can!" Cried Neala. Jorn was dazed and looked around as his Qalm was being killed one by one. Jorn the youngest member of his Qalm, barely knew any of them.. Except Neala, she was the only one that ever really made sure if he was ok, helped as much as she could in training, and they had grown close. It was as though they had a brother and sister bond. Doing as she ordered, he turned a ran, his legs felt like jelly after everything that has happened between Jorn and Neala, he felt like giving up. 'I can not give up, this is not what Neala would have wanted' Jorn thought to himself.

As Jorn ran through the tunnel, Vicery warriors, were coming at him, he avoided them as much as he could. Aswell as avoiding his own feelings. Jorn turned a corner and tripped, he was rolling downhill, being knocked around by rocks. As he fell and rolled, tears came to Jorn's eye's, not from pain, but from Neala. He rolled and rolled, it felt like hours had gone past, he couldn't stop thinking about Neala. Finally the rolling stopped and he layed there, with his back on the floor of the tunnel. His vision blurred, filling his eye's with tears. "It's over." He whispered to himself.

Whilst lieing on the floor, he vaguely noticed as the tunnel started to glow an eerie green that bathed the tunnel he was in with a malevolent glow. Jorn heard a movement, so he wiped his eyes and tilted his head. There was a giant slimy green Larva, about the size of a large boarhound. It twisted about in it's alcove. It's gaping maw reached for him, ready to consume, High Elf flesh. 'Not today, I'm not dieing today! I must finish the mission and make Neala proud!' Jorn thought to himself. With that he leapt up, despite the pain from the bruises he had gotten from tripping and rolling. He took out his daggers and dispatched the Larva swiftly. Jorn looked around, noticing where he came from, he knew which way to head. Jorn turned and ran through what was left of the tunnel, he entered an open cavern, a scene confronted him!

It was the Queen's Chamber, the place his Qalm had been looking for. Sadness filled him, the Qalm was so close... And yet so far. As he looked around, there was another Qalm, soaked in the blood of their enemies, aswell as soaked in their own blood. They were fighting broodlings. 'It's my oppurtunity, to make sure that Neala and the other's deaths are not in vain! I will make you proud of me Neala.' Jorn thought to himself. Jorn spotted a Dark Elf severely wounded and a Dwarf battling a broodling. Jorn had to help them!

Jorn ran to the Dark Elf and Dwarf. Jorn battled, with the Dark Elf and Dwarf to take down the broodling. Whether they were confused at his presence or not, it did not show! Jorn always carried a pouch of water, for when he needed to use his water skills. Jorn concentrated. They needed a bit more help. He popped the top off of his water pouch and poured it's contents onto the floor. He closed his eye's he shut everything off from the outside world, and from his mind so he only thought of one thing! He planted his feet firmly on the ground and lifted his arms. He controlled the water and formed them into striking tendrils! Jorn opened his eye's and struck forward, the tendrils staggering the broodling with so much force. Getting the broodling to focus on him, long enough for the Dwarf and Dark Elf to recuperate and strike the broodling, killing it once and for all!

[OOC: Hope my last paragraph is ok, if not please tell me how to improve it please, all critism accepted.]


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

They kept coming. By tens, dozens, maybe hundreds it was impossible to tell. A wall of chitin and blades was the only indicator of number as Adam and **** continued to fight alongside the others of the qualm. Another vicery fell before him, impaled by scimitar and raked backwards by hawkish talons, but it was not going to be enough. There were too many. 

_Too many..._ **** echoed. 

It seemed as though they would die mere minutes from now at best. Another parry and a half hearted swing decapitated another falling vicery. His strength was threatening to leave him very soon. 

A roar of rage eclipsed Adam's defeatist thoughts as he turned and saw Daruk, the dwarf of the deep and firewalker, ushering in a huge wall of flames that swirled and threatened to incinerate Adam and all of the others in the area. Briefly the windwalker wondered if the dwarf had lost his mind, but then a new feeling came to him across the bond and he felt the wind furies reacting in such a way that only one person he knew could incite. 

'Nesrin?' Adam called into the swirling melee before he was pulled into the air and whisked down the tunnel. The Hetat deposited Adam alongside himself and Zacarish, imploring the three of them to combine the powers of the Wind Furies for something big, something Adam could only guess had something to do with the wall of fire. 

As directed, Adam called to ****, directing all of the energy that she shared with him and turning it over to Nesrin's control. The powerful shaper of many elements used the wind to fashion a shield of air that funneled the dwarf's flames. The energy almost drained Adam completely but it was entirely worth it to see the sight of a giant vortex of flame shoot down the tunnel and consume the hapless vicery... 

The fire burned for what seemed like forever. Inevitably it would go out, and when it finally did, Adam fell to the ground. **** had been drained of her own presence and retreated to the pocket dimension within Adam's mind. As the young windwalker struggled to raise himself he saw that Zacarish beside him was also all but spent and even Nesrin had dropped to one knee. 

But they were through. The lights just beyond, so similar to the lights back home, signalled all that they had come here to do. Forcing energy to the surface that he didn't know he had, Adam returned **** to their presence and sent her back to where the others had been left behind to fight the swarm. 

With a simple cry of summoning, **** alerted the others that theirquarry was ahead... 


* * *​

_There had been a time when things were so much simpler. When a young lad could scavenge what he needed to survive from the vendors and wealthy of his town with the ease of a practiced thief. He had never been caught and he had never stolen more than he needed. 

All the same, death was a natural part of his life. He had seen it run rampant, he had seen it take some of those closest to him.

Never in those years did he believe he would become a creature of such devastation. That he would be a terrifying harbinger of only death._

* * *​

'Not now ****.' Adam muttered. The others had all regrouped and as one the Qualm pushed forward. 

*'Well my Warriors,'* Nesrin began. *'We have arrived at last. Sven, assist me in sealing this tunnel. We will need to find a different way out of the hive once our mission is complete, but while we are engaged with the queen and her Broodlings, we do not want the hive to fall upon us.'*

Adam waited alertly yet impassively as Sven and Nesrin plied their craft.

Finally it was done, and Nesrin spoke once more. *'We are at the cusp, no turning back from this point forward. The queen must die if we are to live. If the queen dies, the rest of the hive should fall to chaos and pain. I have seen it before. With the death of the queen, the hive will die. If you have the marble I gave you, now would be a good time to use it.'* The Hetat glimpsed them all as he spke these words, and the grim finality of his last sentence was not lost on them. *'You may not have another chance.'*

Consuming the orb returned all of the strength that had been expended over the course of the battle, but even Adam could tell this would be a temporary thing. This was a booster, not a substitute for real rest and as such their strength and time were on a ticking clock. With no will to waste this time, Adam followed Nesrin with gusto, his brethren of the Qualm alongside him... 

* * *​
The nest was a scene from a nightmare. Sickly mucous pooled beneath the monstrosity at the cave's center, birthing the queen's horrific offspring with sounds that would have destroyed a normal man's senses. The walls were a honeycomb nest of birthing chambers and screeching broodlings. Almost instantly, a sheer malevolent force assailed the young man's mind only to be thrown back by a friendlier, more familiar feeling. 

*'Focus on the Bond!'*

The shouted words gave Adam the force of will he needed to move his limbs once more. **** rushed overhead and he reached up, grabbing one of her talons and being hurled into the air. He released himself at just the right time to land alongside where Nesrin had engaged one of the rushing broodlings. As Adam rushed to help the elder, Nesrin instead beckoned towards the queen. *'Go!!!!'* He bellowed. *'Finish it! Hit her with everything you have got!'*

'If you're sure!' Adam turned and saw that Daruk and Robb had heard the order and moved forward as well. As if to reply, the enormous creature reared back and spat a globule of acid at Robb. He caught the blast on his shield and immediately dropped it. The queen's flailing antennae whipped about, one of them catching the dwarf on the side. Adam trusted in the resilience of his comrades as he once more jetted forward. He leaped over a swinging talon and used it to leap into the air. He once again caught ****'s talons and flew up, past the screaming face of the vicery queen and behind it, where its gigantic bulk prevented it from turning around. 

He latched onto a jutting piece of latticed hive structure behind the queen and above her pulsating form. Then, lowering his palm, he called upon the wind furies to give him strength like never before. With a simple gesture, he forced the air into a sharp point and forced a blast of wind down onto the creature's soft fleshy egg sac. It screeched in pain as he tried to block out the sound. He struggled with keeping his mind focused on the task at hand as he repeated his performance. If he could just... 

'Robb, Daruk! Hit it now while i have it pinned!' Adam shouted through voice and bond alike. He blasted waves of high pressure wind into the creature's back again and again. Each exertion pushed him closer to passing out, to losing his grip on the rocks and falling to his messy demise. 

'Just die... you bitch...' He muttered faintly.


----------



## deathbringer

The furies danced, writhed and contorted, swirling around him, their beatiful forms transmogrifying from beautiful wisps of flame to savage clawed daemons, claws erupting from graceful fingers to plunge deep into the meet of the vicery around him. The smell of sizzling meat was acrid in the back of his throat yet he remained strong hand raising eyes widening as he watched the enemies around him falter, blades falling from their hands,their carapace splitting as the flesh within bubbled and boiled.

He watched them die, watched the furies push onwards a wave of terrible hatred even as others turned upon him, slicing at him, struggling to reach the life force within, to draw power from the mortal body. He was under siege, claws of seering heat pressing into his arms, strikes no mortal armour could protect slashed across his torso even as the fire wave spread onwards, fed by the very essence of his life force.

Another cut from the furies pierced his heart and he let out a sharp cry of agony. He had never screamed like that before, twisted creatures had cut him, bit him, pierced flesh, yet he had never howled, never let the agony passed his lips. Anger, defiant hatred picked the lock of his soul and unlocked a monster, something primeval, something beyond the realms of mortal comprehension stored within him. He was fighting the furies lapping at his essence, kicking them away to feast upon the vicery and he saw them explode, flames erupting from their flesh as the feeding furies washed over them. 

He was dominating them, forcing them forwards his mind consumed by the enemies before him, by the need to kill, to end life, to slaughter the waves of assailants baring down upon him. Something within the anger, some sense of self remembered others, he was not the only one, what of his Qalm. He could see the man with the blue sword ahead saw furies struggling to latch at him, shielded by something, some force held them at bay. 


He was unrestrained, unleashed, consumed by hateful anger, finish this, burn them all. He was still on his knees one armed raised, but in his mind he was at the forefront, the whip at the back of the furies driving them forward, pushing them onwards, sprinting up the tunnel, vicery collapsing in his wake, and a howling cry of triumph burst through his ears as they reached the end of the tunnel. He hit something solid and he was reeling rebounding backwards the seering flames washing over smouldering vicery the furies fleeing back to where he sat.

He spurred them forward again and truly felt the barrier once more, a wall of flame furies, arms locked defiant and resolute, and impenetrable wall of flame, the craft of a Tashiri, a skilled Tashiri, to force the furies to work in harmony, to become more than raging entropy and become a unit.

Laughter echoed through the air as he seeped the power of the furies in the wall, sweat running across his bicep as he forced himself to continue the weave, the fire rushing backwards upon him. Burned and seered the vicery even as they staggered to their feet fell in droves yet now the furies were latching to him, the flames furies leaching upon the final lifeforce unprotected, they latched upon him, leeching for his soul, his strength fading even as they consumed him greedily hungrily.

He was on his knees, hands planting in the soil as fear drove away the rage and he erupted, forcing the furies away with a cry of exertion, the flame flickering and dieing. He was trembling on all fours, quivering, the need to vomit washing over him, though he resisted the urge, slowly returning to his feet even as his Qualm centered upon him.

He felt dizzy, nauseated even as he looked into the curious eyes of the hetat, fierce pride swelling beneath the cold hard logic. His speech was short and concise, the craft of his fellow dwarf used to seal the tunnel behind them even as the Qualm prepared as one for battle. He was tired as if he had walked a thousand miles, still fresh in mind, a dull nagging ache at the back of his body yet he walked with the rest, snatching his axe from the floor where it had fallen, his manifest returned to the earth leaving a hole in his heart Sadness nipped from his subconscious yet he pushed it away forcing himself to concentrate on the final battle to come.

He was lucky to be a part of this, to be a part of them even if they were not truly one yet.

Entering the cave, he did not feel so lucky, face suddenly cast in a ghostly light, the queen was held upon 8 spindly legs, like a gross distorted spider, blind eyes seemed to sniff the air, antennae rippling in the breeze even as they approached. She was revolting, the manifest of pure evil, a horrific sludge covered mass.

Then her antennae stiffened, her massive bulk turning towards them and she screamed, the voice pierced through him and he felt every weakness fully, his mind seemingly disarmed from his body and he howled though his mouth did not work. Then she was muted, a gasping Nesrin snarling at them to end her foul existance. 

He need no prompting, rushing forwards, Sven at his side, suddenly waylayed and he moved on, feet slipping over the mucous that caked the floor, the man with the blue sword moving at his side, even as the queen reared and set foul bile toward him. He was ducking away yet even as he did so another moved in front of him to catch the foul amber liquid upon his shield. He closed in quickly, and then he was flying backwards as an antennae lanced out, its movement like lightening catching him unaware even as he was slapped into the viscous ooze.

With a grunt of fury he pulled himself free and levelled his axe in both hands even as the man with the blue sword leapt latching upon the rocks his mind focusing and the queen screamed. His body weakened but he resolved himself, fixing upon the antennae that had knocked him down, he closed the gap warily, ducking around the appendage as it lashed out at him, a flick of his wrist sent the axe scything through the muscular appendage and the beast seemed to reel slightly. He reemed them stiffening, the blank dead eyes, could it be?

Frantically he sent the axe flashing again as he swung left and right scything through the thick muscles, would it blind the beast, would it give the others enough of an edge to end its miserable existence.


----------



## Santaire

Zacarish planted one foot on a Vicery’s chest and flipped backwards off it. The scything blade of a sword passed beneath him and he landed on his feet like a cat. A diagonally downwards cut, driven by all the strength in both Zacarish’s arms cut the offending Vicery in half. There was a roaring and Zacarish pierced a Vicery’s chest with his sword, blasting it off with a pulse of air before turning. He saw fire. Pure, untainted flame rushing towards him. “Well, I was going to lose anyway,” he muttered and raised his sword, determined to go out with glory.

Then he felt the crafting, undoubtedly Nesrin.

The Dark Elf was yanked off his feet and sent hurtling through the swarm of Vicery. He stuck his sword out the bubble of air and watched as the sheer speed he was travelling at and the keen edge of the sword lopped off heads and severed limbs as he sped by.

He landed lightly beside Nesrin, Adam alongside him. He was spared a moment to wonder at how much carnage Nesrin had caused before the oncoming wall of flame snapped him out of it

"Lend your strength, call your aire furies, let your power flow through the bond, give me control!" the Hetat cried. Zacarish hesitated, then decided handing over control of his furies was worth his life. He dug deep inside himself and called the furies to him. To those who could see it the tunnel appeared to resonate as those furies that answered his call streamed into him. He siphoned them off, not knowing how but doing so.

He watched the bolt of fire come before his vision was distorted by a huge shield of air, inside of which sparks flew.

The lance of flame struck the shield. Zacarish instinctively threw up his hands as if to brace the shield. He fed more and more furies into the shield, watching in alarm as it bent inwards. The sheer heat of the fire was staggering but he gritted his teeth and simply opened up his entire soul. Furies flooded out. It felt as if his soul was being drained.

Then, as if fired from a slingshot, the bolt of flame hurtled back down the tunnel, spreading to fill it.

Zacarish cut off the flow of furies and staggered. His vision blackened, growing dark. He crumpled, falling to his knees before slumping sideways. When his vision finally cleared he saw Adam was only just climbing to his feet. He did likewise and, using his sword almost like a walking stick, moved to where Nesrin was standing.

"We have arrived. Get the others, we must move quickly before they regroup."

Zacarish nodded and began to move down the tunnel but staggered and fell to one knee, not yet recovered. ****, Adam’s manifested Fury swooped past him and summoned the others. Zacarish shrugged off Solomon as the healer rushed to him. “I’ll do fine,” he growled “save your strength for the Queen.”

Once the Qalm had all gathered Nesrin spoke. "Well my Warriors," he began, "we have arrived at last. Sven assist me in sealing this tunnel. We will need to find a different way out of the hive once our mission is complete, but while we are engaged with the queen and her Broodlings, we do not want the hive to fall upon us." He placed his hand on the wall of the tunnel, Sven joined him. Zacarish remained silent as the two Earth Walkers plied their craft. After they finished, Nesrin turned to them again, pride in his eyes, as well as flaring across the bond. "We are at the cusp, no turning back from this point forward. The queen must die if we are to live. If the queen dies, the rest of the hive should fall to chaos and pain. I have seen it before. With the death of the queen, the hive will die. If you have the marble I gave you, now would be a good time to use it. You may not have another chance." He finished grimly. Zacarish, struggling, opened the locket around his neck and removed the faintly glowing orb. He placed it in his mouth and swallowed.

Energy flooded through his veins. He felt he could touch the sky, which admittedly he could, but still the expression works.

It was nothing more than a high and the Dark Elf knew it but still, it felt good.

Ready to fight he strode alongside his Qalm...

***

Zacarish dropped to one knee as the Queen pounded his mind. “Focus on the bond!” Nesrin’s roar was almost inaudible. Zacarish was driven further down into the ground, holding himself up with one hand flat on the floor. “My mind is my own,” he hissed and managed to lift the aura of despair on his soul for long enough to reach the bond. Then images of them victorious flashed into his mind with the distinctive mental form of Solomon. Words came into his mind bearing the same signature. "I don't know how long I can hold her back. Go! Now! Kill her!"

Zacarish sprang to his feet, sword in hand and sprinted forward. Then 3 guardian beasts joined the Queen and one rushed for him. With an insane laugh, the cursed laugh of the damned he turned to meet its headlong charge. It was fast, very fast. But continuing his mad laughter Zacarish knew that he was the faster. A pincer came for his chest. A crossed blade knocked it aside. A lunge dodged from by the chattering creature.

A talon swung for his head. He ducked, letting it pass harmlessly over his head, thrusting his blade up into the joint as he did so. He drew blood but his sword was ripped out of his hand by the movement, dragged away by the swinging claw. He drew his dagger and dived forward, slashing it into a leg before flipping it into his left hand and stabbing another. He rolled to his feet, flipped over a swinging tail and tore his sword free of the talon. He brought it down in a brutal cut that severed the tail but in a burst of speed his arms were snatched by 2 pincers. They squeezed but his armour protected him. Just.

As much as he struggled he could not break the grip. Then there was a burst of heat and the pincers reflexively relaxed their grip on him. He landed and Sol was there, fire roaring from his palms. "I will get around it and attack it from the back. When it focuses on me, hit it with your blade storms."

Zacarish nodded and moved forward.

He fought with a breathtaking grace and fluid precision, Sol releasing gouts of flame that had the Vicery turning to attack him before Zacarish slashed into its back. It was slowing, worn down by the constant barrage of attacks. Then it swept a pincer backwards and slammed Zacarish over. He grunted in pain as he began to climb to his feet. Definitely a broken rib or 2. A talon swept for his face. He saw the end, closed his eyes and realised his only regret was that he didn’t know his Qalm better. There was a ring of steel on chitin and a hand grabbed his arm.

“Isira?” he said in astonishment as she pulled him to his feet.

Then he realised that he had more pressing concerns than where his Qalm mate had been. He flicked his sword out, parrying a pincer that had attempted to lift her off her feet and snip her in half. She was a blur of motion. He appreciated how truly fast the air furies could make you.

She attacked the beast along with him and Sol and Zacarish knew it was time to end it. The beast was slow enough.

He moved forward, almost as if in slow motion. A talon swung for his head and he ducked it. A tail lunged for his right leg and he sidestepped before bringing the sword down and slicing it neatly in 2. He leaned back, letting a pincer pass harmlessly by before straightening. He moved through the swinging limbs like quicksilver, there one moment, gone the next. Eventually he got close enough to strike. He raised his sword, reversed his grip so he was holding it backwards and stabbed it down with all his strength.

It passed between armour plates and severed the beast’s spine. It collapsed, shrieking in pain. Isira dealt some damage of her own before Sol stepped forward, seemingly unfazed by the thrashing limbs and pressed his hands against its forehead. Flame exploded around him, haloing his figure as he crafted the furies. When he stepped back, the beast’s head was a charred mess...


----------



## Lord Ramo

Robb heard the words of Nesrin as he felt the temperature rise in the tunnel around him. It appeared that Nesrin was enlisting the aid of others and was using their powers to combine with his own, in an attempt to clear the tunnel. Robb dropped onto his good knee as the flames engulfed him and the rest of the Tashiri and Vicery, and after a few moments of seeing nothing but flames, he felt them recede and looked around. It appeared that they had been successful, the immediate threat of the Vicery had been neutralised by the flames, and Nesrin was quick to collapse the tunnel, so that the horde could not get at them whilst they were killing the queen.

It all came down to this, the sacrifices that had been made on their way here, would count for nothing if they could not end the queens life, and drive the Vicery into chaos with her death. Robb heard Nesrin’s words about the orbs that he had handed out and took his out of one of his pouches. He was glad to see that it was intact, and that it had not been damaged by the constant fighting and Robb being thrown around.

He took it, and almost instantly he could feel better. His wounds started to heal and he felt refreshed, as if he had not fought at all and was in fact arriving fresh for the fight. He stood, taking his shield off of his back, drawing his blade as well. He followed the others into the queens chambers. 

They entered the dimly lit chamber, the Qalm as one, set on one path, one purpose as they entered. The queen must die. He looked around the chamber, seeing the alcoves where larvas were thrashing around, newly born horrors that would have to be purged. It took Robb a moment longer to find the queen, though when he did he could only feel revulsion and hate towards it. The queen was a disgusting thing to behold, eight legs held up its massive frame though it looked like they hadn’t been used in so long that they would be worthless to it.

It had an egg sac in its body, and Robb felt like gagging as the Qalm watched an egg appear in a pool of slime and other fluids the queen shed. As they moved forward slowly the antennae on her head swivelled towards them with astonishing speed before the Queen shrieked, Robb dropping to one knee as his mind was invaded. He dimly heard Nesrin yelling to focus on the bond, and he did so, thinking of nothing but victory with his fellow Tashiri. After a moment he felt himself again and heard Solomon tell them to get her, using his mind to hold the queen at bay.

Robb rushed forward even as three guardian beasts appeared from nowhere, going straight for Nesrin, Zacarish, Sven and Aalrik. This allowed Robb, Adam and Daruk to close with the queen. The horrible twisted being in front of him turned its hideous face towards Robb, spitting a glob towards him. Robb not knowing what it would be instinctively raised his shield to protect himself, even as he ran towards his target.

He was glad to see that he had caught the entire thing on his shield, though had to drop it immediately as the glob began to burn through the metal like fire does to paper. It clanged on the floor before being utterly destroyed, Robb vowing that it would pay for the destruction of his shield. The others leapt at it, Daruk hacking away at its antennae, obviously trying to blind it to the other attacks, whilst Adam was above it, trying to pin it down with his wind powers. 
Robb rushed toward it, intent on ending its life before it claimed on of its fellows.

He was forced to duck as one of its legs found movement, lashing out at him quickly before going back to its place, lest the queen fall down. Robb with fang in his hand, leapt at the queens head, his blade plunging towards its head, its dead eyes starring up at him. If he failed to kill it with his attack, then he would rush around and cut at its legs, and hope that Daruk or Adam could get the killing blow.


----------



## Therizza

The air seemed to move away from him. Before Sven could question the sudden vacuum, a roar, like a thunder clap rang out from ahead in the tunnel. Ahead of him, Daruk was wreathed in flame, but not consumed by it. Strange, thought Sven, as he had not reckoned Daruk to have the fire walking ability to summon, much less control such a conflagration. Regardless, the fire washed over their enemy, roasting them in droves. 

Looking forward, almost in a trance, Asher’s voice rings out across the elemental plane. “The flame is not your enemy” whispered Asher. Woken from his fugue, Sven brandished his weapon as he looked for the nearest Vicery to destroy.

Chasing down a skittering Vicery, who seemed more afraid of the flame torrent than the Dwarf’s mace, Sven was suddenly engulfed in flame. Flinching instinctively, Sven was astonished as the flame passed over and around him, leaving a void of air in which he could move.

"What sorcery is this!” bellowed Sven, partly in rage but also in puzzlement. Daruk was controlling the flames, but his power had to have been bolstered by Nesrin. “Thank the earth that Daruk is with us, aye Asher?”

“The mountain is tall, and he is an able companion in this climb” responded the granite bear.

“That he is…” the words had not left his mouth when a Vicery 
warrior, wreathed in flame and screaming in anguish, thrust his spear at Sven. Narrowly escaping the fatal stroke, the spear still caught him in the foot. Bellowing his rage, Sven brought Avalanche down in a two handed stroke on the Vicery’s arm. Kicking the flailing Vicery into the flames, Sven fell to the floor grasping his foot.

Limping towards Nesrin, Solomon rushed forward to tend to Sven’s foot. The healing arts were not Sven’s forte, but he thanked Solomon for the assistance as he tested his foots weight bearing ability. Finding it acceptable, Sven began to assist Nesrin in sealing off the cave, as to preclude the Vicery from dictating the terms of battle. 

Having finished their task, the gigantic form of Nesrin turned to Sven, and the rest of the qualm. Giving instructions, rather fatalist in their couching, Sven downed his healing marble. Although injured, bleeding, and altogether run ragged, the marble sent a force through his body, healing his wounds 

Following Nesrin into the chamber, the sight before the group was twisted. The bloated form of the Vicery queen seemed to search for them with her maw, while an enormous egg-sac pulsated with unhealthy life. Below it, a mire of sludge flowed out, apparently part of the breeding process. 

As they closed the distance, the Queen became alerted to their 
presence. Her psy-energy was fierce, and had it not been for Nesrin’s rallying cry, Sven may have been driven to madness or worse. Regaining control of his mind, Sven began to charge the queen as an unknown enemy burrows forth in the chamber. Standing by Nesrin, Sven took on the charging centipoid creature with Avalanche, dodging the creature’s brutish lunge, and with his newly rejuvenated faculties, crushed the creatures midsection with Avalanche.

Wiping ichor from his face, Sven nodded to Nesrin and bellowed his rage. “Yer next, Queenie! Of that ye kin be sure!”


----------



## apidude

As Aalrik snatched another arrow from his dwindling supply when he felt, rather than heard the explosion of heat from behind him. Snapping his head around as he nocked the arrow and drew he saw the Dwarf, Daruk at the center of a ball of flame that expanded so quickly that his elf eyes could hardly register. It seemed out of control, like Demon Fire, leaping from the expanding ball of flame toward the Vicrey.

The skin of his face exposed to the heat tightened painfully and he heard a lock of his hair sizzle as it singed and smelled the pungent odor of burned hair.

"Father of the Trees! He will burn us to a crisp as well as the enemy."

He quickly turned his back to the flames and wrapped his traveling cloak around his shoulders and his bow, lifting his hood to shield his head as much as possible. His arrows were mostly protected by the quiver on his back but he smelled the dry stench of burning feathers and knew that some would be unusable. 

Then a voice echoed across the bond, "Younglings, stand still, you will be protected." and the heat faded slightly as the flames flickered around a silver-white glowing shield formed before him and surrounded the rest of the Qalm. 

Aalrik knelt in the protective zone of the shield and pulled his quiver around to his front under his cloak. Of the 13 arrows in the quiver, 6 were bare of fletchings, the remains of their feathers still smoking. They might be good to stab with but they would not fly. He pulled them from the quiver, reversed them and replaced them with their points up. The remaining 7 arrows which were still flightworthy he replaced normally. 

"I won't have time to check for fletchings. Now all I'll need to do is pick an arrow with the fletchings up and I'll have one that will fly. The others I may need. Regardless, with only seven arrows, I'll need to make them count." 

Slinging the quiver back to his back, he stood. The fire had moved down the tunnel. He could hear the popping and cracking of the insects armor as the flames moved ahead of the Qalm. He stepped forward to join the rest of the Qalm near Nesrin.

While Nesrin and the other Earthwalkers sealed the tunnels around them, he squatted and changed the string of his bow. The original string was dry and felt brittle. "It could break at just the wrong time." 

Pulling a piece of nearly melted beeswax from his kit he rubbed down the the string until it glistened in the warm air and the string hummed as he plucked it, testing its tightness. The tone was like a harp string, a low rumble. It was ready.

Nesrin spoke. "We are at the cusp, no turning back from this point forward." Aalrik tested the pull of the bow itself. "The queen must die if we are to live. If the queen dies, the rest of the hive should fall to chaos and pain. I have seen it before. With the death of the queen, the hive will die." The heat did not seem to have damaged the hardened wood of the bow. "If you have the marble I gave you, now would be a good time to use it. You may not have another chance." 

Aalrik pulled the glowing orb from his kit and swallowed it. He shuddered as first his body shivered with cold then was hit with a wave of heat. The throbbing of the wound in his side faded and the cut above his eye burned as it knit itself together.

The Qalm moved toward the Queen's Chamber, Nesrin at the head of the group of warriors. They moved with silent, but sure steps as the energy of the orb overcame and surpressed the pain and tiredness of the group. They were all wounded, several badly, Aalrik noted the blood dripping from Sven's side and the slow movement of several of the others as they favored the uninjured parts of their bodies. 

Aalrik already had nocked one of the last of his arrows. He glanced at the floor of the tunnel. Even the puny arrows of the Vicrey were ashes. There were none that he could pick up and use. He felt like he was going into battle without his armor. Stretching out his woodcraft, he felt the furies in the wood of the arrows with no fletchings. The shafts themselves were true and would respond to his urgings, but they would be front heavy and would not be anchored in flight by the fletchings. If he had to use them he would have to concentrate on keeping the furies activly stabilizing the flight of the wounded arrows. It would take intense focus to make them fly true.

Nesrin led the Qalm around a bend in the tunnel into a large open cavern, its top shadowed by an eerie green glow. The cavern's eerie calm after the intense noise and action of the battle in the tunnel felt oppressive, weighing down on Aalrik like a physical burden. He blinked into the darkness, his elf eyes quickly adjusting to the lower light levels, and pulled back a bit more on the arrow as he scanned the space before him.

As far as he could see, the walls of the cavern were covered with a latticework of cells. Inside each cell, glistening with moisture, moved a white-grey nightmare - a maggot, blind, with a toothed maw that opened and closed steadily without any other purpose except to eat. Aalrik's stomach turned. From the cells a putrid odor of rotten meat, excrement, and a sweet-rancid smell that irritated the eyes. He blinked several times and the irritation faded like the pain of his wounds under the influence of the orb he had taken. 

"This has got to be the center of the infection," he thought. "It can't be any worse than this."

Then he saw the Queen and he stopped.

It was obscene.

Fifty feet of the same white-grey membrane attached to a travesty of a warped spider like insect, its small, clawed legs moving absently, scrapeing the floor with chitineous claws. The sound was like the scraping of metal against a sharpening stone and cut through the air.... skrik, skrik, skrik. It was a constant noise, putting the nerves on edge. As Aalrik watched, the bloated body contracted and a small shining egg emerged from the birth canal and dropped into a pool of nutrient fluid. The Queen's paired antennae waved purposefully in the air as she sensed their presence.

With a shriek, it's useless legs scraping against the stone dais she rested on, it reacted. Aalrik's mind was overcome with an intense hatred of the two legs and their cities and farms. They were only good as food. Kill! Kill! KILL!!

The larvae in the cells squirmed and a few crawled out toward the Qalm.

Then the hatred vanished as another voice cut through the alien thought from across the bond. Aalrik looked around at the rest of the Qalm. They all were like persons waking up. Except Solomon. His feet were set, his hand outstretched, limbs shaking with effort. Across the bond, he spoke, "I don't know how long I can hold her back. Go! Now! Kill her!”

Released from the mental attack, the Qalm moved as one.

The Queen ponderously lifted her bulk from the dais and called, the shrill inhuman voice echoing from the walls, the sound threatening to deafen the warriors. 

But not all of the echoes were of her voice. The cry was answered, the sound of the answers painful to the ears, highpitched and harsh.

Three monsters scuttled from behind the Queen, and reared above them, the pinchers of their countless legs scraping the dais. The creatures cries were issuing from mouths ringed with talons and crablike pinchers, snapping and stretching toward the warriors. The creatures scurried toward the Qalm. As they moved their tails, barbed stings glistening with venom, lifted behind them like the tail of a scorpion ready to strike. Drops of venom splattered the floor and smoked as they ate into the granite.

The monsters separated, scuttling toward the Qalm from three directions. Aalrik saw one heading left on a direct line for Nesrin.

The arrow left the new bowstring like it was leaping to embrace a lover. The armor piercing tip impacted the roof of the creatures mouth driving the point into where its brain should have been. It shook its head like a bear trying to rid itself of annoying gnats, bit down, snapping the shaft of the arrow then turned again toward Nesrin and the Qalm. This quick movements were astounding as it scuttled on its thousand pointed legs around the fighters heading for Nesrin.

"Well, it's brain is not in its head. Wonder where it is?"

In quick succession Aalrik launched three more arrows faster than the human eye could register the movement.

The first, aimed for the creatures multifaceted eye, was deflected as the creature batted at it with one of its legs.

The second, aimed for the creatures other eye, was nearly caught by the creature but embedded itself deep in its left eye. The glow from that eye faded as it oozed green-black fluid. The creature screamed at such a high pitch that Aalrik felt the scream in his jawbone rather than heard it.

The third arrow impacted at the joint of one of its arms burying itself deep in the joint. The arm dropped and dangled uselessly, swinging randomly as the creature moved.

Aalrik danced from one side to another dodging, looking for a killing shot, as the creature moved frenetically, striking out at Aalrik with claws and sting. 

"Where the blazes would it keep its brain!" Aalrik thought, scanning the creature, ducking low as four of its clawed legs struck out simultaneously. He saw a slight bulge above the creatures middle where the chitin seemed thick. He finished the draw as he sidestepped the striking head and released an arrow at the juncture where the bulge joined the creatures body. The creature jerked to one side and the arrow deflected from the tough armor.

Gritting his teeth, Aalrik loosed another arrow at the spot and this one embedded itself up to its feather fletchings along the edge of the bulge.

The creature reared as a reaction, the tail whipping around so fast that Aalrik barely was able to register it. He felt it strike his back. It plunged again driving the stinger deep into the toughened leather of his quiver. 

Aalrik spun and sank his last arrow into the creatures remaining eye, then quickly lept away from the jerking claws and sting of the creature.

He shrugged out of his quiver and dropped it, watching as the age and use toughened leather began to dissolve in the black venom.

"Frell!" he snarled. He had had that quiver for 50 years. 

He dropped his bow and puled Aor and his dagger from their sheathes and snatched his shield from his back. With a brush of the furies of the shield he felt its round, fire-hardened, wooden/leather cling to the back of his arm and harden. The blade of the dagger protruded beyond the rim of the shield. At the speed of these creatures he could not afford to be slowed down by donning Barkskin, so a quick thought to the furies of his leather/wooden armor hardened the counter woven wooden fiber mesh sandwiched into the armor. He felt it stiffen across his chest and back.

Nesrin was in motion, sprinting behind the beast. "Stand firm Aalrik, Keep its attention!" he shouted. 

Aalrik moved, looking for an opening, but the beast, though blind, seemed to be able to follow his every move. The antennae shifted as Aalrik moved and the beast kept scuttling to face him. 

"Well," he thought, "it seems that it doesn't need its eyes as long as it has those."

Out of the corner of his eye he saw Nesrin reach out his left hand and, with his right make a pulling motion.

Aalrik leapt into the air and somersaulted over the beast swinging Aor in a wide arc in front of him as the antennae passed under him. He heard the beast scream. The shield on his left arm shuddered as the broodlings claws pounded at it, nearly throwing him off balance. He hit the stone floor and rolled over twice before rolling to his feet en garde.

One of its antennae lay twitching on the stone floor of the tunnel. 

Aalrik realized that the antennae was not twitching on its own. The ground was shaking beneath the creature. As Aalrik watched, stone-like hands emerged from the floor and grabbed the legs of the creature, followed by forearm and elbow. 

Nesrin was focusing the power of his fury beneath the creature. An apelike head emerged from the floor as the grey granite arms circled the Broodling and began to squeeze it in a hug intended to crush and kill.

The creature's claws and teeth and sting had no effect on the Fury driven form called forth by Nesrin. 

As Aalrik prepared another attack, Nesrin jumped to the Broodlings side and swung his massive ax.  A dozen legs were skinned from the side of the creature to drop twitching and clawing on the floor. Several began to crawl toward Nesrin as if they sensed he was the source of their pain.

Then the Broodling slipped, stumbling in the yellow ooze that pooled on the floor beneath it.

"It is slowing. Nesrin really hurt it." Aalrik thought. "Now it is my turn."

Again Aalrik leapt over the beast and spinning in midair stabbed at the creatures head. His dagger sank to its hilt in its already blind eye and was wrenched from his hand. His timing thrown off, Aalrik landed on the creature itself and the breath was knocked out of him. He slid off the back of the creature and landed on the stone floor. He quickly moved his shield to garde as he fought to get air into his lungs.

The creatures one antennae found him and the tail with its barbed stings slid over him ready to strike. Aalrik, gasping for breath, focused on the fury of the wooden shield and it became like iron. He could feel it grow heavier. He scrabbled backward, keeping the shield where he could deflect the sting if it struck. He was moving slower than normal, still fighting for air. "Come, ON, Move!!!!" he thought.

Nesrin spun into view, dodging several clawed arms then pointed his fingers at the creatures stings. Flames erupted from his fingertips and shot forward fusing the stings together. The creatures shrill cry pierced the ears and Aalrik winced. A black green smoke billowed toward the ceiling. It stung the eyes and Aalrik blinked.

Gasping still but in control, Aalrik got to his feet and moved back toward the creature. He still had Aor, but his dagger was still embedded in the creatures eye.

His foot stepped on something that was not stone and he glanced down. It was his quiver, Most of the aged leather had been eaten away by the Broodlings acid but the damaged arrows had survived, although they were loose. Aalrik snatched up three of them with his dagger hand.

"These will do." he thought, grimly.

The tunnel echoed with another scream as Nesrin's Earth Fury shifted, pushing the creature to the floor and, as it squirmed, hissing and screeching, Aalrik saw the bulge on the creatures back revealed.

Dropping his shield, again he leapt. From the floor to the upper shoulder of the granite ape, then to the Broodlings back. Reversing the arrows in his hand, Aalrik drove the points into the bulge. The acid of the creatures sting had blackened the metal armor piercing points but the poisoned arrows plunged beneath the bony plate deep into the brain of the beast.

Cut off in mid scream, it spasmed once then fell to the floor of the tunnel, twisting and turning violently in its death-throes. Aalrik leapt clear and landed, elf like, en garde. His shield was gone. His dagger was gone. His makeshift arrow daggers were gone. 

There was just Aor.

"Good." He gritted his teeth as he swung the blade in a slow, figure eight before him. "Now for the Queen." 

Behind him Nesrin's Ape fury released its hold on the dead Broodling and ponderously stepped to his side as Nesrin moved toward the Qalm.


.

.


----------



## Jackinator

*Isira*

The Vicery had been easy prey to them after that. It had fought hard, bravely almost, she almost had to admire it, but it hadn't lasted long in the face of three of them. Worse had been Sol's fury, she shuddered, the heat had been intense, sucking the very air from her lungs but the anger in that attack had been terrifying, inhuman. She tried to stay away from him without it seeming obvious, maybe it was just down to the unpredictability of his element, but it had been an awesome display of skill and power, there was something subtly uncomfortable about sitting in the same room who could do that.

She was trying not to look at smoking, sizzling puddle that had once been the things head, struggling not to throw up, though her stomach twisted and heaved. "Isira, Sol, Belak, we are unable to meet with you. The hive itself has awoken and we are assailed on all sides. Follow the bond. Trust it to bring you to us. We go to kill the Queen!"

She glanced at Belak, then the three of them took off at a dead run, it was hard to concentrate on the bond and the furies at the same time so she found that Sol and Belak were not having as hard a time keeping up as they would normally, though neither were as graceful as she as Belak bounced off a sharp corner and propelled himself after her and the firewalker. Then all of them skidded to a halt, the tunnel didn't end, but the path did, a massive collapse had blocked the route, there was no way through. Belak roared in frustration and punched the rock face, small pebbles and scree sliding down from the force of the anger driven blow. Then Sol and Isira looked up, there! At the top was a tiny hole, just big enough for them to squeeze through, they began to scramble up the rough, shifting slope. Sol didn't even pause, diving straight in, wriggling and cursing his way through the small space.

What seemed like a lifetime later his voice floated back, tinny from the long journey back through the tunnel."This is it, hurry! The Qalm is here, they are engaged with the queen and her broodlings. Make haste."

She didn't hesitate as she dived in, but as she got what she thought must be halfway down the passage it began getting smaller and soon it was a squeeze even for her small frame, she had no idea how Sol had forced himself through the tiny passage. She was beginning to feel claustrophobic, and she had grown up hiding in smaller spaces than this, but being cut off from the air furies, something she had come to know better than she knew herself, that was what was grating on her.

It was too long till she managed to squeeze out of the opening, dropping to the ground just behind Belak and looking around. The cavern was vast, even compared to those they had already seen this place was big. BUt the cave was nothing next to the massive creature in the centre. The Queen was huge, it's antennae alone must have been ten feet long. The Qalm was already engaged, but not with the Queen but the enormous, wriggling slugs that filled the cavern, each one was thick, some the size of a small pony and their circular maws bristled with viscious teeth.

Sol was already engaged, standing alongside Zacarish as the two whirled around a broodling the size of a horse. Then as she watched it seized Zacarish, her rapier was out and she'd covered the ground between them in a heartbeat just as a vicious claw swung towards his head. The blade flexed, bent and snapped from the vicious blow, but it had saved Zacarish's life and she pulled him up, drawing her daggers as she did so.

She disappeared in a flash of motion, each dagger a blur of deadly steel, flashing out to strike at the Vicery trapped between the three of them. From then on, it was a foregone conclusion, the creature could not hope to compete against three Tashiri and Sol's furious attack ended it. "It's good to see you're still alive."


----------



## Midge913

*Update #22*

Aalrik (Apidude), Isira (Jackinator), Sven (Therizza), Zacarish (Santaire), & Jorn (splitpaw): As the forms of the broodlings crumple to the ground, the feeling of malice slowly disapates from the air. However, you are not out of the woods, yet. All around the chamber, the maggots, the stinking slime covered young of the Vicery queen, begin to wriggle from their cells, the ones in cells higher up falling to the ground. As they writhe towards you, the vast numbers of young slowly begin to dawn on you, there is no way that you will be able to take on this many. Despite their vulnerable form, you all have visions of being buried under a squirming mass of these putrid creatures, their mouths, still bearing wicked looking teeth, slowly opening and closing, tearing the flesh from your limbs, moment by agonizing moment. To make matters worse, Solomon falls to one knee, his face drained of color, his outstrected hand trembling. As you watch him suffer, you will feel the pressure, an alien presence trying to encroach into your mind. It begins slowly, building to a echoing scream that rings in the corners of your brain. Your limbs start to tremble, your vision begins to vibrate, and you have a hard time remaining in control, the urge to clap your hands to the side of your head to stem the tide of noise and pain almost more than you can bear. Unable to withstand the combined strain of the psychic scream and the devastating venom of the broodlings, Belak falls to the ground, motionless. Nesrin tries to rally you all into a fighting line, but soon it is all he can do to keep the weight of the Queen's mind from crushing you. As you try to call forth your abilities, and bring hands to weapons, the moving wall of maggots creeps slowly forward and you are almost helpless to stop them. 

Daruk (deathbringer), Robb (Lord Ramo), & Adam (Serpion5): You three battle valiantly, the pressure that Adam exerts with his concentrated blasts of air have started to crack the armor that protects the joint were the Queen's egg sac joins her body, and she begins to flail and squirm, the pain driving her into a frenzy. She twists and turns, trying to get to Adam, but Robb, blades flashing, heavy slashes biting into leg joints, eyes, and in the soft tissue around the beasts neck, and Daruk, axe striking heavy blows, and bursts of flame searing holes in the Queen's protective armor prevent her from doing so. The three of you begin to feel what can only be the Queen's presence in your mind, and as the pain begins to grow your attacks become sluggish. Adam is barely able to keep the pressure on the wedge of air he is pressing into the Queen's back, but just as you all feel like the pain is too much, a loud crack reverberates around the chamber. The Queen's piercing scream rocks you, as she reacts to the wedge of air Adam has conjured as it rips through the soft tissue of the egg sac, severing it from her body. The shock of the injury and the sudden loss of vital fluids takes its tole quickly, as her legs stop twitching and her massive body becomes still. 

All: A massive earthshattering scream rings out all around you, as if the entire hive was wailing in anguish, the sound thundering in your ears, shaking the cavern around you. The maggots, who moments ago were intent on your flesh have stopped moving, their forms still. As you watch, trying to collect yourselves, the maggots begin to rot, disolving into a vicous slime in the matter of moments. You gather yourselves, waiting for more enemies, more beasts to challenge you, but none come. 

Startled, the sound of a body hitting the ground shatters the sudden quite and stillness and looking around you see Solomon, flat on his back, blood running from his nose and ears, the strain of holding the queen back too much for him to bear. Jorn you rush to his side and find that he still breathes, his pulse is steady, the assault on his mind just too much to bear. The rest of you your attention is drawn as Nesrin rushes forward, sliding to Belak's side. A pulse through the bond, all of you save Daruk feel, and then there is nothing. The place where the Dark Elf had once been empty. Nesrin slowly closes the Metal Walkers eyes and with a heavy sigh he surveys the room, taking in the devastated chamber, and the dead queen. 

_"Well done my younglings,"_ he says, barely over a whisper, _"Well done."_

The queen is dead and all around you you hear the sounds of the hive dying. What is going through your characters mind at this moment? How are you dealing with the loss of Belak, and the emptiness his death has left in the bond? (Jorn and Daruk you will not feel this loss, but your thoughts may stray to the fact that you are not bonded to this qalm, unable to share intimately their grief) The effect is not as vicious as it was when Djinn died, it was a more gradual release, as if his presence just slipped away. Your quest is complete. What are your characters thoughts on that matter? As you think Nesrin walks to the wall behind the queen, places his hand upon the hard sandstone of the wall, and with his furies begins to dig a tunnel up to the surface (Daruk and Sven feel free to help). You are going home, a bittersweet victory heavy on your mind.


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## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

A cracking sound followed by screeches of pain signaled exactly what Adam was waiting for. The armour was weakening. He pushed harder, the effort threatening to kill him as he summoned every last ounce of energy he had for this final attack. He saw the Queen struggling to reach up to where he clung to the wall, leaving herself open to the devastating strikes from Daruk's weapon and the lethal bladework of Robb. As her attacks faltered, the dwarf's flames eating away at the monster's flesh, a heaving and powerful presence began to press in on the Windwalker's mind. 

_She's trying to attack us directly! Shield yourselves!_ Adam called over the bond. He immediately withdrew into himself to prevent the Queen's mind from taking hold, and summoned a reserve of energy beyond what his own perceived limitations were. With a roar of hate and anger, he poured every last ounce of his being into this strike. 

'HYAAAAAAAAAAAAA!!!' An aura of turquoise energy radiated from the pendant at his neck as his attack peaked, the wedge of air finally piercing the armour plating that joined the Queen's body to the egg sac drooping on the floor behind it. As the Queen's mind receded from his own and its viscera spilled over the cold ground, the windwalker finally lost his grip on the rock wall and began to fall. His vision swam as he struggled to perceive what he could see, struggled to find a direction, to exert one last little piece of air to cushion his landing. But he couldn't... He couldn't... His eyes closed. He was spent.

He landed, but not on the tough rocky ground he expected. There was no jagged rock beneath him, no bone breaking impact. There was only a soft warm presence, motion, something carrying him. 

He opened his eyes and saw the outstretched wing of **** as she glided gracefully down to the floor. Landing softly, she pushed him upright as she faded and bled the energy necessary to manifest herself back into Adam's being. He awoke as the Hawk spirit vanished, feeling a momentary pang of grief and sorrow. After a few more seconds of gathering his senses he understood why. 

Belak was slipping away, even now as Nesrin was trying his utmost to save the dark elf. **** must have sensed it while Adam was on the verge of losing consciousness and now that he was more aware he too could sense the qualm member's fading life force. Though he had rendered himself almost incapable of feeling any true emotion, he could not deny the bitter pang of disappointment he felt at losing not one but two companions on the very first quest. There was a final pulse of energy between them before Belak was gone. 

*'Well done my younglings.'* Adam heard Nesrin whisper. *'Well done.'* There was an undeniable sadness in the Hetat's voice as he spoke, before standing and approaching the tunnel wall. The young windwalker sensed the earth furies as Nesrin began to construct a tunnel with which they could leave this place. 

Adam shakily stood on scraped legs, realizing now just how little energy **** had left for herself at the end of the battle. He tested out his joints and checked his sword and gear for damage. Though he would undoubtedly require a good deal of rest, he would need to ensure he didn't neglect the needs of his wargear and decided that maintenance would be his priority once they got back home. While he waited for their exit to be secured however, he turned to Robb and the Dwarf Daruk, meeting them each eye to eye and expressing his thanks. 

'Robb, Daruk, I wish to thank both of you.' He said warmly. 'Without your aid, she would have had me. Just as without Belak, she would have had all of us... Living on and continuing the fight is... perhaps the best way to honour those we have lost.'


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## Santaire

“It’s good to see you’re still alive.”

“Likewise,” Zacarish said with a half smile.

He tore the sword free of the clinging flesh and flicked the blood off it before turning to face the queen.

Just in time to see the maggots enter the fight. They fell from their egg sacs around the chamber, hundreds of them. Too many to fight on these terms. Zacarish knew they were dead. Then he heard a thud and a gasp of pain followed by a great weight being placed on his mind. He turned his head to look back, seeing Solomon on one knee. The pressure increased and the Dark Elf almost dropped his sword as the screaming began. It pounded his skull and the urge to clap his hands to the side of his head in an effort to stem the noise was almost overwhelming. Zacarish saw Belak fall to the floor and struggled to move to him but realised it was hopeless, the queen had his mind gripped.

Nesrin rallied them and lifted the queen’s presence; though not enough to remove it he did lower the power of the effects. Zacarish raised his sword and stepped to the Hetat’s side. The maggots crept forward. Zacarish tried to throw a knife at one of them but the effort was too much and the knife barely went a meter before thudding into the ground. He was powerless. Then he saw the queen die.

There was a sonic shriek that echoed through the cavern. The very earth seemed to shift and Zacarish almost fell but kept his footing by thrusting his sword out to give himself something to lean on. The maggots froze and as Zacarish staggered upright, his mind already clearing he saw them dissolve. There was a thud as Solomon fell, blood streaming from his nose. The Elf who had entered the cavern earlier rushed to his side. But Zacarish only had eyes for where Belak lay. Nesrin rushed forward, sliding to his side and reaching out to use his powers but it was too late. Zacarish felt the pulse in the bond as his Qalm mate died. It was almost gentle, nothing like the ragged hole torn in the bond as happened with Djinn’s death. Just a quiet slip from life.

Zacarish’s eyes glistened and he approached Belak’s side as Nesrin stood. The Hetat’s whisper was almost inaudible. “Well done my younglings. Well done.”

Zacarish knew that respect was owed to the dead and so he did for Belak what he had done for Djinn though the crafting itself was rather different in design. When he stood from his work Belak’s sword was lying on the ground, albeit with a shortened blade, atop a simple metal shield. Written down the length of the blade was Belak’s name. The 2 were fused together with a single strip of metal running down the centre of the sword’s blade.

"Let us leave this place," he said quietly and to no one in particular.


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## deathbringer

He swung with brutal efficiency, legs caked with gore, tendrils of thick muscle twitching spasmodically around him and he moved inwards, stepping closer tohack at the creatures shell, cracks appearing in the thick outer shell even as his limbs began to seer, flames sending ripples of agony through his body even as he let out a low grunt.

Bursts of flame seered from his open palms, flashing through the deep groves and fractures, scorching the raw pink flesh beneath. Sustained assault kept her motionless, limbs struggling and flailing to reach in 3 different directions at once, futile attempts to keep them at bay.

She stumbled, legs sliding as she struggled to reach Robb and heard the queen scream, a high horrifying howl of frustrated rage the sound slicing through him, a reinforced pinch upon his mind. He was sagging under the weight of her will, pressure forcing him downwards and he struggled to remain upright a sudden urge to submit to surrender, his will to fight kept alive by the groans of the qalm around him.

No they were his qalm, his resolve afforded new strength, though the bursts of flame became less intense, the axe strokes sluggish devoid of their intensity, a ragged wildness replacing their deadly precision. He was on his knees now though he never remembered falling, half prostrate in the sludge and bile, his strokes devoid of power, he lashed out again, overstretched and he was falling, face first into the stinking ooze, with a low moan of agony, his eyes were rolling back in their sockets.

A great rending of flesh and the queen screamed the seismic force of her death rattle throwing him backwards, skidding across the floor and he lay motionless upon the ground, relishing the sudden freedom of his mind like oxygen to a dying man. He drank it in, the sudden life to his limbs allowing him to regain his limbs though he placed a hand against the queens tremendous bulk to steady himself as the man with the blue sword that had saved his life met his gaze with earnest if shattered eyes, his thanks mixed with odd words that he did not truly understand.

'Robb, Daruk, I wish to thank both of you.Without your aid, she would have had me.' 

His words were warm yet they were foreign to his culture, that was duty, to help a brother in battle, not something that deserved thanks or recognition. Had he not done it, it would have been cowardice, a stain to his honor. None the less, he had owed the man with the blue scimitar a life debt and now it seemed the man counted the debt repaid and Daruk bowed his head in solemn acknowledgement, yet the man continued on.

' Just as without Belak, she would have had all of us... Living on and continuing the fight is... perhaps the best way to honour those we have lost.'

One did not speak of the dead in the depths, for what was death in battle but personal defeat and what honor was there in defeat. Yet perhaps there was more of the depths within this man than he knew, for that was how the dwarves remembered the dead, through blood and pain, in brutal vengeance, cutting and killing til the pain receded and the spirit dwindled.

Wordlessly Daruk thumped his chest above his heart in solemn salute, the soldiers salute of a duty done.


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## Jackinator

This was it, they were going to die, even Nesrin looked worried and the dying scream of the Vicery queen was still ringing in their heads. Larvae were crawling from the walls, falling from the ceiling, a steadily growing wave of white, dead looking flesh. They were wriggling across the floor, unstoppable, inexorable.

And then, as suddenly as it had happened, it stopped. The scream ended, the larvae ceased their wriggling and the wall of flesh that had built up collapsed, limp forms rolling away. Belak collapsed, in silence. A pulse rang through the bond as Nesrin slid across to him, but it was too late, he was gone.

Isira collapsed, sitting on the floor and clutching her knees to her chest. SHe was breathing hard, violently and she gulped as she felt tears begin to run down her face. Shock, grief, anger, pain, it was all of them. She'd just been completely overwhelmed by it all. To see someone die, that was nothing, she'd watched people die before, to feel it... to feel it. That was a whole other story, she had a bond with these people and if this was what it felt like when it was only in it's fledgling state how would it feel when she knew them all properly?


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## Lord Ramo

The blasts of air that Adam was sending down onto the queen was beginning to go through its exoskeleton and actually started harming the grotesque thing. The queen flailed as it kept squirming trying to get at Adam who was causing the most damage to it. Robb was determined not to let that happen, and so it appeared that Daruk was stopping that too.

Robb moved between its leg joints, his blade slashing through its weakened spots as he tried to keep its attention, its focus, its wrath on him and not his fellow Tashiri. It was a hard thing to do, even with Daruk hacking away and sending fire at it. Robb moved to strike at its eyes, blind it and it won't be able to attack Adam. Robb could feel the Queen trying to enter his mind, the only way in which it could stop the attacks on itself.

He felt its power growing in his mind as it got more and more desperate, finding his attacks slowing and his moves becoming much more predictable for the Queen. Robb felt the pain stabbing at his head, and dropped to his knees, unable to contain the pain anymore. As it was getting fatal, Adam summoning his strength sent such a powerful wave of air down that it pulverized through the Queen and destroyed its insides.

Robb felt the pain receding from his mind, standing slowly and putting his blade in its sheath as the queen screamed and convulsed as it died. A second after it had died a scream could be heard throughout the hive as the damned Vicery screamed at the loss of their queen. The maggots that had littered the place quickly died, Robb noting how effective its death was. 

Robb turned a she felt an emptiness in the bond as one of the Qalm members slipped away from the light, and headed for death. He turned to see Belak lying dead on the ground, poisoned. Solomon collapsed a moment later, the exertion of trying to hold back the queen to give the rest of the Qalm a chance to take on the Queen. 

Robb turned as Adam walked over to him and Daruk thanking them both for helping him in defeating the Queen. Daruk nodded wordlessly at him, Robb saying, "We did our duty Adam. You did yours well." With that he made his way over to Solomon, intent on staying by the healers side until he awoke, so that Robb could apologize for his earlier anger at Solomon.


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## Therizza

Sven could quickly tell this battle was far from over. His movement hindered by the knee deep muck of the chmber, combined with his near complete exhaustion, would make fighting this new foe a challenge. Just as quickly as the broodlings had been destroyed, maggots, the spawn of this Vicery queen, had set to their grim task of disposing of the Qualm. Despite their diminuative stature, the sheer volume of the maggots onslaught, combined with a sense of fear in the back of Sven's mind, started to unnerve the Dwarf.

This fear was not instinctual, not a fight or flight response. Sven would surely have fought to the bitter end no matter the odds. This was an induced fear, a psychic attack. There were no words, only images of death and carnage at the maws of these quickly approaching maggots. Rot. Decay.

Solomon was on one knee, Sven could see it. He was unsure if it was real or a hallucination. Batting a maggot off of his shoulder, and crushing another under foot, he noticed he was bleeding. He could hardly hear, hardly think, the sound that followed was soul-piercing. Belak collapsed not far off from Sven, Nesrin called them to fight or die.

Trying to meditate at this point was nearly impossible. The mental attack of the Queen, combined with what Sven could only assume was the venom of the maggots addled his wits. Sven clenched Avalanche, but could not find the strength to swing it. The maggots were closing in, and Belak had still not stirred from where he fell. Sven thought them all lost. "At least we died fighting..." Sven whispered to himself.

Sven gathered what little strength and control he had left into a final defense. The maggots were thick, and Sven did not hope to win, but only to stay his demise a bit longer. Their were maggots climbing up his legs and chewing on his feet, unbearable pain rang through him. He was about to collapse to the sheer weight of his assailants as a screech rang out. The maggots froze, and began to fall from his body and dissolve back into the much from which they came. 

Their seemed to be no immediate danger, no enemy movement, only silence. Solomon and Belak were down, if they were to live Sven could not know. Moving towards the group, he could feel something pull at his heart, and he knew that Belak had left them. Sven could only hope that Belak knew that his sacrifice had allowed them all to live. As Nesrin began to form a tunnel to the surface, Sven pitched in, hoping the work would keep his mind from the immediate loss.

As they moved further down the tunnel, towards the surface, towards home, Sven looked back only once. A single tear ran down his cheek as he did. "Go back to the earth my friend. Your climb is complete."


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## apidude

Aalrik's head continued to spin as he slowly looked up and the world began to make sense again. 

He was sprawled on the floor of the cavern. He tasted blood and his cheek and chin felt like they were on fire. 
Gingerly, he reached up and touched his cheek. His fingers came away bloody and he winced at the sharp pain, his head spinning and the blackness at the edge of his vision threatening to overcome him again.

"Better not do that again," he thought as the spinning began to slow and the darkness receded, "until I figure out what is going on." Closing his eyes he focused his senses, trying to stop the swirling confusion of images and sensations.

Pain. He felt pain. His face was scraped and cut, and he could feel other abrasions on his legs and arms and there seemed to be a deadening of pain along his back left shoulder. "That is where the most serious wound must be. The pain is so overwhelming that it has actually become numb."

He could taste the sharp salt like taste of the blood and he could feel the skin tightening as it dried on his face and arms and legs.

There was a silence that was a blessed relief from that intense scream of anger and hatred that the queen had projected as she had burst into his mind and overcome him. He remembered vaguely dropping to the rough floor and writhing with the pain, scraping his face, hands and legs raw. He blinked the sweat out of his eyes. She had struck out at him, he remembered the pain across his back and being thrown or kicked from the floor to one of the walls of the cavern. 

"I remember feeling Solomon trying to hold off the queen's mental attack. But then nothing....." His eyes flew open. "What happened!" he thought. He rolled to his side and levered himself up so that he could see, his head spinning again from the movement. He forced himself to scan the room.

The queen Vicery lay on the floor twitching feebly. It had been cut in two, the egg sac leaking a white-clear fluid into a pool around her. The maggots had rolled to their back and curled into cresents, dead and unmoving except for the slight opening and closing of their mandibles that could not be stopped even in death. As he watched they began to dissolve into puddles of white clear slime.

Through his pain and dizziness, Aalrik felt the bond between the Qalm tense then he felt the connection with Belek as it severed and, where the Dark Elf's presence in the Bond, there was now emptiness. It was as if a candle had been pinched between two fingers, snuffing the light of Belek's presence from existence.

The emptiness pulled the darkness in around Aalrik's eyes again and he fought to not follow that enticing path back into oblivion and its temporary peace.

"I need to be able to help. Get up, you lazy good for nothing!" He felt like he was shouting but the sound was a whisper.

Then he heard Nesrin's voice and felt his presence expand across the Bond and strength flowed across the Bond with that voice. "Well done, my younglings," Nesrin looked around the room at them all, "Well done."

Aalrik scanned the cavern. Solomon was down as was Belek. The queen was obviously dead. It was her death scream that had knocked him to the floor of the cavern as the mental cry tore through him, despite what Solomon did to soften the mental blow.

Aalrik tried to get his feet under him so that he could rise, but they, strangely, did not want to cooperate. Propped up by his arms, gathering his strength to try again, he watched Nesrin rise, limp to the wall of the cavern and begin to manipulate the Earth furies to open a pathway to the surface.

Aalrik lay down again on the rough floor. "I'll wait a bit. I can't help with the tunnel but I may need to move when it is done." He thought. "We did it. A costly victory but this hive will not harm anyone again." He felt the floor seem to fall away from under him as the darkness began to envelop him and he drifted into sleep.

"I wonder what is next."



.


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## Midge913

*Update #23*

Adam (Serpion5): As Robb walks away to sit down next to the unmoving form of Solomon, you can't help but reflect on the feelings of loss that wash over you. Two warriors, bonded to you in a way that you have never known before, died on this mission, their lives given for the good of the Qalm. How is Adam feeling? Is he overwhelmed with saddness? or is he directing his emotions to stoic purpose? Daruk stands near you, a solemn salute given in respect of Belak's sacrifice. This dwarf is somewhat of a mystery to you as he was thrust into the Qalm well after the bonding ceremony, and his stoic nature makes getting a read on his emotions difficult. Perhaps, now that things have calmed down, you should introduce yourself properly. 

Zacarish (Santaire): Running your hands over the blade that you have forged in memory of Belak, you can't help but reflect on the sadness you feel within. A sadness at the loss of yet another Qalm mate threatens to turn into violent rage, one that burns behind your eyes and in your heart, threatening to overwhelm you. Somehow, you keep a handle on that rage, something calming has gripped you, and turning to you see that even though Nesrin stands side by side with Sven, creating a tunnel that leads to the surface, you catch him looking in your direction. You don't know, but you think that perhaps the calming influence is his doing. Remembering that Isira is by your side, miraculously still alive despite the fact that she, Sol, and Belak were seperated from the rest of the Qalm, you can't help but wonder what she experienced in the tunnels. Perhaps you should ask her what caused her to run off and what she found in her absence.

Daruk (deathbringer): Taking in the Qalm that now moves around you, you can tell that the assault on the hive weighs heavy on their minds. You know that they lost two warriors and, even though you are not bonded to the group, you can tell that the loss of those warrior still effects them deeply. You notice several new arrivals to the group, the dark elf that lays dead, a high elf female, and a human male, within which you feel the spark of Fire. Also kneeling by the healer Solomon, is another High Elf. You don't know what to make of the group as their ways, even comparing the Dwarf Sven, are strange to you. As you reflect upon this and perhaps reflect upon your desire to be bonded to the group, to help you feel less like an outsider, you see that the human windwalker Adam has turned to you and appears to intend to strike up a conversation. 

Isira (Jackinator): For several moments sobs wrack your body as the tears stream down your face. The sadness that you feel is so accute that you can't help but give into it, mouring the loss of your Qalm mates, despite the fact that you had only known them for a couple of days, you feel the loss to the depths of your soul. Your eyes fall on Nesrin and you can't imagine what it would be like to lose your entire Qalm as he obviously did. After a short while you are able to get yourself under control, your breathing becomes more regular, and you are able to stem the flow of your tears. You realize that Zacarish still sits next to you, a curious expression on his face as he turns to speak with you. 

Robb (Lord Ramo): Taking a seat next to Solomon's unmoving form, you can tell by the blood that leaks from his nose, eyes, and ears the pyschic assault of the Vicery Queen was much more powerful than any of you could possibly have known. You watch as a high elf, one that you do not recognize though you bears the ivory and crimson of the Tashiri, sits quietly, hands to either side of Solomon's head, obviously engaged in some form of healing. After a short time, the high elf stands and nods wordlessly to you before making his way in Nesrin's direction. Ever so slowly, Solomon begins to stir, finding you at his side as his eyes flutter open. [Ramo we can work out this convo over MSN at your convienence.]

Sven (Therizza): As you work with Nesrin, you reflect on the calming nature of the earth Furies that swarm around you in the dense sandstone. They help you focus at the task at hand, dulling the pain of the loss of yet another Qalm mate. slowly the tunnel makes its way upward, as you take the time to reinforce the sides and top as Nesrin pushes the pathway forward. You are surprised with how easy it is to work with your Hetat and are surprised by the fact that he does not direct your every move, trusting in your abilities to compliment the crafting he works. The mountain of a man that works next to you seems to be overwhelmed with both loss but also with pride. As the cool breeze of the surface, well much cooler in comparison to the oppressive humidity of the Queen's chamber, you take a deep lungful of the fresh air, wondering what lies ahead for you and your brethren. 

Aalrik (apidude): You are gently shaken out of sleep and as you look up you see Sol standing over you, concern in his eyes. "You alright pointy-ears?" he inquires with a smile as he helps you get to your feet. "It is time to go," he says, jerking his head in the direction of the tunnel formed by Sven and Nesrin. Thankfully you can smell the fresh air coming down the tunnel and, despite the fact that it carries the warmth of the desert on its back, it is a welcome relief to the oppressive heat and humidity that permeates the Queen's chamber. Walking, Sol at your side, you make for the tunnel, desperate to get out of this hellish realm. 

Jorn (Spiltpaw the Deceiver): See previous update as well as the ALL sections that follow. If you don't respond to this update I will be taking control of Jorn as an NPC. 

ALL: As you all move towards the tunnel, you help each other up its gradual slope accounting for wounds that your healers are just too tired to deal with and fatigue that they can do nothing about. The sunshine of the desert falls on your face and a cool northern breeze blows over you, dispelling the last of the unpleasant suffocating air of the Vicery hive. You see several of the air carriages left behind by various Qalms, their emptiness an unpleasant reminder of the lives lost in the vicious hive hidden below the shifting sand. You are heartned by the fact that in the distance, travelling towards you a reakneck speed are several more air carriages, the miniscule forms of Tashiri Aria flitting around them, an enitre air group sent as reinforcements. You collapse, all of you into one of the empty carriages as the new arrivals touch down. The rumbling bass of Nesrin's voice carries over you as he speaks to the leader of the new group, but the words are unintelligible in your exhaustion. The other's response is loud and clear however and you are relieved to know that the new arrivals are going to retrieve the bodies of the fallen for proper burial at the Talisariat. This announcement causes Sol to bolt uprigth in the seat that he was sprawled in and he quickly leaves the carriage. Though none of you follow, his words are clear as he speaks to Nesrin.

"Isira, Belak, and I discovered something strange in the depths of the hive, "He begins, "I was drawn to a crafting, a fire crafting that at the same time was not a crafting. It felt different, wrong, as if the Furies themselves had been tortured into doing the Crafter's bidding. I know of no Tashiri that would treat Furies in such a manner, it was abhorrent. My point is there is a body of a Tashiri warrior hanging in that cavern, I do not want him forgotten as it seems he was captured and tortured for information." As Sol returns to the carriage and as it takes off, borne by memebers of the air group that accompanied the reinforcments, you all ponder what this development could mean, though its implications are clouded in mystery, Nesrin's look of concern is enough to make you worry about what lies ahead. 

***​ 
ALL: Most of you are half asleep with exhaustion as the air carriage touches down on one of the departure platforms near the top of the structure. As you disembark Nesrin beckons you all to follow, "Come younglings, two of our number need to be bonded to us." He leads you all through a part of the Talisariat that you have never been too. The halls hear aren't exactly lavish, but you can tell that they are lovingly maintained by serfs of the order, the furniture is made of more expensive materials, and the there are tapestries and banners depicting the history of the Tashiri. Scenes of battles and people you have never met assail you from all sides. 

Nesrin leads you into a small room that contains a large pool of water, very similar to the one that you all saw during the banquet, and from a small, unadorned doorway near the back of the room, the same ageless man that officiated over the original bonding appears. His robe is even more startling white in this small space than it was in the large dining hall. You watch as he approaches Nesrin, clasping his hand warmly, laying an understanding hand on the huge man's shoulder. Something about his demeanor gives tell to the sadness the man in white feels, it is as if, even without Nesrin's report, he knows that many Tashiri were lost in the assualt on the Vicery. 

"We all make sacrifices," The man says to Nesrin simply, "But the loss of comrades is especially hard." 

Turing to the rest of you, he indicates that you all should place your hands in the pool. Once more the man's power overwhelms you, as it seems to becoming from everywhere around you. Once more the living flames erupt from the surface of the quiet pool, and once more you are assailed with the presence of those that stand with you. Daruk, though the experience is one that had been descirbed to you before, it is one that defies their description. All of a sudden you are privy to the sadness and emotions of those of your Qalm. You are now truly bonded to the Warriors at your side. The rest of you now feel Daruk and Jorn amongst the eddy and flow of the bond. 

The man in white looks at you all as the bonding takes hold,"You have all done well my warriors." The possessive here strikes you all as odd, "I feel for your losses, but I take pride in your accomplishments. It is not every new Qalm that can take on a Vicery queen and her brood and live to tell the tale." He takes a deep breath smiling at you all," Go now, rest, I have no further assignments for you for some time."

"Yes Radan," Nesrin's voice echoes in the small chamber. You are all startled to find yourself in the presence of the founder or the Order, but it is short lived as his presence retreats as he passes through the small door and Nesrin leads you all back down the mighty tower to your quarters. 

"It is time for a meal and sleep," Nesrin instructs as you arrive in the hallway that leads to your rooms, "Get some rest. Tomorrow we begin training as a group."

[for those of you that interact and want to expand on your conversations get with each other via PM or MSN or the like. If you are interacting with an NPc get with me and we can workout the conversations.]


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

Adam watched Robb leave to kneel beside Solomon. In that moment, **** connected to the fore of his mind and the rush of emotions she had been subjected to spilled over into his own. 

_You will not keep hiding from this._ She cawed sternly. _This is real Adam. If you continue to run, to shift the burden of emotion to me as you have been, you will forever be weaker than me._

_You're an idiot._ Adam replied, his face twisting into a snarl of irritation at the conversation only he could hear. _You have no power over me. You don't exist without me. You've already tried and failed to overcome me. This is your place. If the pain is so powerful, turn it to good purpose and use it to aid in our fight! _

_Oh I assure you, it will aid us..._ **** said threateningly before receeding to the back of his mind like before. 

Adam shook the anger from his mind and looked around. Grief was evident on the others, each of them displaying at least some measure of sadness or regret. Even across the bond, most were far from the resolute warriors they had been at first. The battle had taken a toll, and though they were shaken Adam knew the survivors would emerge stronger than they had been before. His eyes came to rest upon the dwarf Daruk, the one who had helped him slay the monstrous queen. Unlike the others, Daruk had not been with the Qualm from the beginning, and as such his mind was as unreadable as his stoic expression. 

Adam approached, sitting on the ground a few metres from where the dwarf stood in salute and met his gaze. 

'A fine swing you have there. My name is Adam Jameson, Windwalker born of Deidre.' He said. 'In all my years on the streets of Deidre's little towns, I have never met a warrior with the same caliber you displayed today. So tell me Daruk, are all dwarves such formidable fighters? I must confess I've only seen the odd merchant of your people before joining the Tashiri.'


----------



## apidude

*Aalrik - Wood Walker - Wood Elf*

The world was rocking. Aalrik's brow furrowed as he tried to deny the motion. It continued. He felt himself being pulled up out of the comfortable darkness that was warm and pain free and as he became more aware, the pain of his head and his wounds, and underlying all the painful absence of his Qalm brothers came more sharply into focus. 

He heard a voice, low and quiet, "You alright, pointy ears?" Aalrik opened his eyes, squinting against the dim light. Sol was kneeling over him, gently shaking his shoulder with a humorless smile on his face. "It is time to go." he said, nodding over his shoulder and helping Aalrik to his feet. 

Aalrik glanced in the direction he nodded and saw sunlight streaming down into the cavern. Specks of dust swirled in the gentle breeze that moved down the newly crafted tunnel to the surface. Aalrik breathed deeply of the fresh air, surprised at the strength that flowed into him with the wholesome sweetness of the desert air. His head began to clear and he began to move purposely forward, stepping away from Sol. As the air freshened he began to smell the fetid stench of the cavern of the hive.

"Frell. I could not tell how bad the air was in that bilious hell hole." He swallowed hard, trying to keep from vomiting and quickened his step. He needed to get outside....now.

He felt as if he were being reborn as he stepped out of the moist fetid air of the tunnel into the sharp clear desert air. His body rejoiced as he felt the toxins from the hive leave his body with every breath and the pain begin to fade to a dull ache. 

He let his eyes focus in the distance, finding the horizon and the small specks of movement that approached. It felt so good to let his vision reach out to its maximum instead of being confined in the small dark confines of the cave systems. 

Strength flowed back into him as he felt the slight traces of untarnished plant life of the desert flora and reached out to caress the furies of the plants, drawing a sense of peace and wholeness from their presence and their featherlight traces of life force. 

He moved along with the remaining members of the Qalm as they limped to one of the air carriages they had used to come here. As he began to feel himself coming back to life, he became more aware of his comrades and the condition they were in.

As Robb and Solomon slowly emerged from the tunnel, it was clear from the blood traces that Soloman had been seriously wounded. He moved gingerly across the desert sands toward the carriages they had arrived in with Robb following. Isira was with Zacarish and they were talking in low voices. Aalrik could see from the grimy streaks on her cheeks that she had been crying. As he watched she brushed her sleeve across her eyes, smearing the moistened dust even more. Adam and the dwarf, Daruk, are moving ahead of Aalrik toward the carriages, the dwarf's low rumbling voice carrying clearly to Aalrik's elven ears. While a solid presence, the dwarf seemed preoccupied and, in Aalrik's opinion, a bit distant. "I must get to know him," Aalrik thought, "without him we would have been even more sorely pressed. His ax and his spirit saved our hides at least once in the battle."

They were all wounded and suffered from battle shock that weighed down on them as the adrenline that had sustained them during the battle faded and their exhaustion took hold.

Aalrik opened the door of the carriage. "Damn, how long was it that we arrived here. It feels like it was forever." he thought as he lowered himself onto the seat and felt his body began to relax of its own accord. 

Outside Aalrik heard the sounds of the arriving Tashiri landing and the low voice of Nesrin greeting the reinforcements and it commander but he couldn't make out the words, but Sol stiffened and sat up and stepped from the carriage. His voice cut through the sharp air of the desert. "Isira, Belak, and I discovered something strange in the depths of the hive, " Sol began, "I was drawn to a crafting, a fire crafting that at the same time was not a crafting. It felt different, wrong, as if the Furies themselves had been tortured into doing the Crafter's bidding. I know of no Tashiri that would treat Furies in such a manner, it was abhorrent. My point is there is a body of a Tashiri warrior hanging in that cavern, I do not want him forgotten as it seems he was captured and tortured for information." Painfully, Aalrk pulled himself to his feet and began to step out of the carraige, checking his bow and its string. The commander of the replacements said they would retrieve the tortured Tashiri along with their battlebrothers and Sol stepped back into the carriage. It immediately lifted into the air, dropping Aalrik into his seat.

From the window of the carriage , he watched as the desert floor dropped beneath him and felt the car begin to accelerate.

"We survived...well most of us, " he thought grimly of their battle-brothers who fell and the manner of their deaths. "We won the victory, but we will wear the scars of the war forever," he thought, shuddering. In silence he watched the ground below until the rocking of the airborne carriage and the dull pain that he had been denying lured him back down into forgetfull oblivian and he fell asleep.


.


----------



## Santaire

Sadness.

And barely controllable rage.

Zacarish stood still, gazing down at the sword and shield that rested over Belak’s lifeless body. Just a slight pulse and a life gone. Another Dark Elf dead of an already dwindling population. _I will never forget your sacrifice_ he swore silently. Another voice in his head, a promise he had made to his father the day he left to be trained.

_“I will return,” the young Zacarish swore. His father gave a sad smile. “Do not make promises you cannot keep my son.”_

But, for better or for ill, Zacarish swore to remember Belak.

The sadness was foremost in his mind but rage boiled just beneath the surface, a fire in his eyes and an acid in his heart. Such rage should have consumed him utterly and left naught but a shell, a rage driven beast to release upon the foe. But he kept a hold of it. Something, or someone, was aiding him in controlling the rage and hate that coursed through his veins.

Turning his head slightly he caught sight of Nesrin gazing at him even as he worked the crafting with Sven to open up a path to the surface. Nesrin’s gaze, containing its own sadness told Zacarish that despite the turmoil of his emotions, the heartbreak, Nesrin had suffered this many times over as his Qalm was slowly whittled down until only he remained. And though he did not know, if asked to guess Zacarish would say Nesrin was aiding him in his struggle against the rage in his heart. He nodded respectfully to the Hetat.

He suddenly remembered that Isira was standing next to him, still alive despite her, Sol and Belak having sprinted off into the tunnels and, he thought with a wry smile, getting him almost torn apart by Nesrin for attempting to follow them against orders. He also thought, more seriously this time, that it was probably his confession to Nesrin about the power of his rage were what made the Hetat know to help him stay calm after the loss of two Qalm members. When Djinn had died it had been useful, making him faster, stronger and altogether more lethal. But if it consumed him when there were no foes to vent it on, where there was nothing for him to use it against then it would destroy him utterly.

So he silently thanked Nesrin again for the aid in controlling the otherwise consuming rage.

He was about to ask where they had gone and why she had gone with them but, seeing her sobbing with tears streaming down her face settled instead for laying a hand on her arm. She visibly flinched and he lifted his hand from her shoulder, suddenly aware of what horrors must have been inflicted upon her in her childhood to make her so shy and nervous. “While we yet breathe we will not forget him Isira,” he said softly. “He has gone, and maybe to a better place where the world is at peace. All we can do for him now is to honour his sacrifice by making it worth something...”


----------



## Anilar

/OOC Midge913 I have taken a some liberties, as I find it incredible hard to write myself into events that have allready happen and been described, without having been a part of it. If its too much, I will ofcourse delete and try to rewrite it.

Eldur Liekki was exhausted as he went toward his room, simply content to collapse in his room. It had been a trying and eventful day, that defied everything he had been taught, but still he would not have been here, alive and bonded to a qalm of tested and tried tashiri. 

That they had been in the presence of Radan, the founder of the Tashiri, during the bonding had hardly registered in Eldur's mind. His mind exhausted and being flooded with the feelings and sensations of the others in the Qalm. All of which was equally exhausted, even thou some hid it better than others. All of them thouched somehow by the losses to there qalm, which Eldur was a new addition. Eldur still felt like and outsider, as he had not fought so much with them, as forexample the other new addition the dwarf had done. Eldur had mostly fought by himself, protecting the qalm from being assailed by enemy reinforcements.

Eldur had been a part of the tashiri reinforcements that had been sent to the Vicery hive, even thou he only had become Tashiri a few weeks before. Just as so many others, all uninitiated into the bloody business of war. Eldur had realised on the travel in the air carriage, that he had a small advantage, he had taken life before in anger and desperation. And even thou he had been visible nervous, not like the dwarf that was also in the carriage, it was clear that he had seen battle before, and that it was more than likely he anticipated it. Which showed itself, as the carriage had landed at the vicery hive. Some had moved east some west, there guide had led them to a nearby group of Tashiri, that had allready been fighting for there lives. Wounded and dying laying amongst them. As Eldur had kept respectful distance to them all, not wanting to intrude on there business before ordered to, the dwarf had immediately mingled with the group, as one of his race had been injured. The Hetat, that Eldur realised must be the man Nesrin there guide had asked for, greeted the dwarf personally in what Eldur could hear was the dwarf language, thou he did not understand what was being said. 

Eldur's brownish armour and small stature had made him more or less blend into the background of the hive structure, so he had gone largely undetected or at least the others Tashiri simply did not have the energy to recognize his presence. Nesrin did make a little nod to Eldur, indicating that he should follow the group in, as they moved deeper into the bowels of the hive.

Then Eldur was met with the horrors of battle and blodshed, as he fought together with his fellow tashiri towards the heart of the Vicery hive to its queen. As the others fought at the frontline meeting the enemy head on, Eldur had stayed behind, covering the others backs. His spear, and the powers of fire, excellent tools to block of the narrow tunnels, making the Vicery soldiers unable to lauch serious assaults from the rear, reinforcing the massive guardians or the queen. Wounding and killing several of the Vicery just out of sight and hearing. Eldur was not with the Qalm either, as the queen was killed. Eldur busy fending off a enraged guardian, desperate to reach its queen. Eldur using all his skills and his Fire bison Kebakaran to block the entrance into the queens lair. A fight that almost cost his life, before the death scream of the queen had assailed all his senses, making Eldur blackout. As he came to, the massive guardian simply lay dead.

What felt like days, but was only moments later Eldur was following Nesrin and his group out of the Hive. Boarding a air carriage together with the group, Eldur still felt he was at the wrong place, that even thou the Dwarf also was new to the group, he had been seen and become respected by the other Tashiri, for his direct involvement in there victory. Eldur just sat in the corner of the carriage, trying to come up with something to say, but his lips stayed silent.


----------



## Therizza

It was tedious work, shaping the tunnel with Nesrin but Sven would have it no other way. The calming nature of the Earth Furies, combined with the ever watchful presence of Nesrin helped to take Sven's mind off of the severity of their losses. Hard work had always been in Sven's nature, and now more than ever he took what little joy he could in helping to shape the tunnel that would take his Qalm out of that hell-pit, the Vicery lair. 

Sven would glance over at Nesrin from time to time and, despite being consumed in his work of shaping their route, Sven sensed their Hetat's pain at the loss of so many Qalm-mates. Sven thought to ask his Hetat how many Tashiri he had seen die, but kept his thoughts to himself as they worked their way to the surface.

The stone had turned into dirt, and eventually sand. Eventually, they broke through to the surface, the cool air a reprieve from the oppressive humidity of the underground. Taking a deep breath, Sven's demeanor lightened as he looked to the distance to see a group of air carriages heading towards their location. Grasping the sand with his feet, Sven leaned against one of the empty air carriages that had brought them there in the first place. Closing his eyes, he tried to rest as best he could until their transport arrived.

As the carriages touched down, Sven was roused by Aalrik to board one. Doing so, Sven closed his eyes once again, trying to rest and forget the grizzly images burnt into his mind while inside the Hive. When they arrived, Nesrin beckoned them to a small room, as there were new members to be bonded to their Qalm. In a ceremony similar to their initiation night, Daruk and Jorn were bonded to their Qalm, and Sven could immediately feel a sense of healing, as even though his former Qalm-mates had passed on, they were honored by these new members.

Sven could not think anymore. So much had happened, in so little time and he simply wanted to sleep. Nesrin's words echoed in the hallway as he made his way to his bunk, "Get some rest. Tomorrow we begin training as a group." Although exhausted, Sven was ready to train again, to learn the art of combat with his Qalm, to improve his mettle as a Tashiri.


----------



## Jackinator

“He has gone, and maybe to a better place where the world is at peace. All we can do for him now is to honour his sacrifice by making it worth something...”

The hand on her arm had made her recoil, unprepared for the gentle touch and still tense from the battle. She felt guilty as she saw that it was only Zacarish, concern on his face and she swallowed back tears, wiping her eyes on her sleeve.

"Honour, there's no honour in this world, what has this," she indicated the room around them, "got to do with honour."

She looked away, angry, not with him, but with herself. It wasn't his fault, he hadn't seen the body, hadn't felt the evil, the pain in that room, he couldn't understand. She turned back, looking subdued, frightened almost.

"Sorry, you're right, I hope he is at peace somewhere, Radan knows we won't find it anywhere here."

She fumbled in her pouch, taking out the pearl Nesrin had given them all. She felt completely and totally exhausted, it was tempting, but she didn't need it now, she replaced it carefully in the pouch at her belt.

She was hardly awake when they got back, barely noticing that their leader, the Radan himself paused to talk to them.


----------



## deathbringer

'A fine swing you have there. My name is Adam Jameson, Windwalker born of Deidre.'

The words cast his eyes from the ground, the man with blue scimitar allowing words to burble from behind tired worn lips, a man he had fought with, a man who he had fought side by side alongside, who had proven himself worthy.

Not a friend but a man of honor and virtue, praising his swing, attempting to ingratiate himself with the outsider, to welcome him into his group

'In all my years on the streets of Deidre's little towns, I have never met a warrior with the same caliber you displayed today. So tell me Daruk, are all dwarves such formidable fighters? I must confess I've only seen the odd merchant of your people before joining the Tashiri."

A hint of mischevious pride glittered in his features and he let out his own smile, even as he gathered his weapons, a flick of his wrist producing a tattered cloth which he ran over the blade, the sinuous mucus of the queens final excretions a sticky irritant to the blades glittering steel.

"I bet those merchants rarely fell foul of scum upon the road, guard or no guard."

He patted the axe haft

"A dwarf is joined to his blade as soon as he is old enough to forge it, he will care for it as he would his kin and when it is shattered beyond repair, he mourns it as he would his own lover"

He smiled, the grin tearing apart his features in an unnatural twisted leer that seemed almost painful, though his eyes gleamed with the memories of the past

"Every groove, every inch I know as I do my own body and every tiny imperfection is as noticeable as a crack. I take care of her and she takes care of me. Long may it continue"

He slid the axe into the notch on his belt, eyes moving to meet Adam's as he straightened, the motion taking him to the wiry humans midriff

"You can thank her for my swing, as surely as I must thank you for saving me from the ignominy of a bloodless death"

His eyes fell upon the long blue saber at the mans hip and he studied the light agile blade that seemed to shimmer with the colors of the sky and he felt the question spring to his lips

"And what of your blade, she seems to flow as smoothly in the dance as you do... she must have stories too tell?"


----------



## Lord Ramo

Robb stayed by Solomon’s side as he strayed in and out of consciousness, waiting for him to waken so he could apologize. He was tired but he squatted down, keeping his grim face focussed on the wall that Nesrin and Sven were digging out. He was upset at the loss of Qalm members, they had died bravely and for the good of many. So many Tashiri had died to secure the hive. Too many. His attention turned as a high elf wordlessly came over and healed Solomon before moving off quickly.

Robb waited for Solomon to stir and sit up, helping him as he put his head in his hand, obviously in pain. "I just wanted to thank you for your efforts in holding the queen's mind at bay so we could strike it down. I also wanted to apologize for my earlier remarks about you healing me. It was appreciated even if I acted harshly towards you." Robb said quietly to him, not wanting to enflare his condition with raised voices.

Solomon opened one eye, and a slight smile tugged at the corner of his mouth, "If I had known what I was in for, I might have thought twice taking her on." He shuddered, the memory of his melding with the queen's mind obviously affecting him still despite the healing. "Your apology is accepted friend, though not entirely necessary. I should perhaps ask before plying my trade in the future."

Robb nodded a slight smile on his lips. "Well my apologies anyway. It was stupid of me to act how I did. Rest now friend, you have done more than most of this qualm today."

Solomon reached up, grabbing hold of some of the slime that hung from one of Robbs arms, and smashing it between his fingertips, he smiles wryly, "It seems we all played our own part."

Robb nodded, “Yes well it was all thanks to you, or else we couldn’t have gotten close enough. Rest now friend we will be out of here soon enough.”

The journey out Robb barely spoke, didn’t look at anyone. He was tired, but even more determined. He had trained since a young age to be one of the tahsiri, and now he was bloodied like one. They arrived back at home for Robb, and he tiredly got out, his armour in his hands with his sword at his waist. He was surprised and honoured as one of the leaders of the Tashiri greeted them, in awe as he spoke. They were quickly bonded to the newest member before told to rest before tomorrow. Robb turned to the rest of the qualm. “I don’t know about you but I’m going to get some food.” He headed to the great hall, grabbing some bread, wine and meat before sitting down at one of the tables alone, paused in his own thoughts.


----------



## apidude

Aalrik felt the air carriage as it began to descend toward the Talaisarat and opened his eyes. He had been barely conscious of the flight from the cave of the Vicrey Queen, only dimly aware of the soft sway of the carriage as the furies of the air sped it through the sky. He glanced down as the carriage swiftly dropped from traveling height to the roof of the building to land with a smooth descent and a slight bump as it landed.

Aalrik stood and stepped down out of the transport. Nesrin spoke.

"Come younglings, two of our number need to be bonded to us." and began to move through halls that, despite Aalrik's long residence in the Talaisarat, he had never seen before. 

Nesrin led the group, battleweary and still reeking of the stench of the battle, into a small room wiht a small pool of water. As they move into the room a small door opens and a man Aalrik recognized stepped through the door, spoke to someone behind him, and then turned and entered the room, shaking his head. He moved forward to grasp Nesrin's hand, his eyes echoing and magnifying the sadness that seemed to well up inside Aalrik.

Aalrik's elven ears picked up his soft voice as the man spoke to Nesrin, "We all make sacrifices, but the loss of comrades is especially hard." He looks at the rest of the Qalm and motions them toward the pool placing his hand in the water. Once more Aalrik placed his hands in the cool water along with the rest of the Qalm including Daruk and Jorn. The flames licked up around each of them and as they flicker Aalrik began to feel the presence of Daruk and Jorn as their lives become intertwined with the rest of Qalm.

""You have all done well my warriors. I feel for your losses, but I take pride in your accomplishments. It is not every new Qalm that can take on a Vicery queen and her brood and live to tell the tale. Go now, rest, I have no further assignments for you for some time."

Aalrik paused. "My warriors...."? he thought. Then an unbidden sense of relief as Aalrik heard the words, "I have no further assignments for you for some time." Then a shock as he heard Nesrin respond to the old man, "Yes, Radan." Before Aalrik could respond or react the leader of the Telesari open the door and left. 

Nesrin moved them toward the hall and spoke, "Get some rest. Tomorrow we begin training as a group."

Aalrik turned from the rest of the group and made his way toward his room. Once there he sat on the edge of the bed, pulled off his boots and fell back, asleep as his head touched the pillow.


.


----------



## Midge913

*Update #24*

ALL:Regardless of whether you adjourn to the great hall for some food with the greater population of Tashiri warriors, you retreat the the private dining hall in your dormitory wing, or you retire to your bed, the night passes smoothly and you begin to feel the tension of constantly feeling under threat ease from tired and sore muscles. Eventually you all make your way to your bed, the hallway in your Qalm's quarters quiet save for the rumbling snore of the dwarves and the peaceful calm of home. Sleep takes you almost as soon as your head hits the pillow, the days events leaving you with barely the energy to kick off your boots or step out of soiled clothing. 

You sleep, whether you dream or not is up to you, but you sleep until you wake, nothing or no one disturbing the rest of warriors recovering from battle. Go through your morning ritual, some of those things that define you as a character and exhibit your personality. For the first time in what feels like an eternity no one is demanding anything from you, or rushing you from place to place as they did when you were apprentices. For many of you this is the first free time you have had, that has been completely your own, for many years. What do you do with it? 

Whatever you get up to in the morning, a degree of commotion catches your attention around the lunch hour, and as you go to investigate what is going on. You find a gaggle of servants rushing in and out of your Qalm's dining hall and looking inside you see that they have set a feast, a massive lunch fit for a king. Nesrin sits and the table, already tucking in, the massive man's appetite truly comparable to his size. You enjoy the next couple of hours sharing this meal, set for you in honor of your victory, with each other. You mourn the loss of your comrades and celebrate the success you have had as a Qalm. 

***​ 
The next several days are a whirlwind of training and instruction, starting with each of you sparring with Nesrin. He has told you that despite the fact that he watched you all fight against the Vicery, he wants to get a good idea for your strengths and weaknesses. You stand around the ring, cheering your companions on, as one by one they all fall to Nesrin in the ring. Despite the fact that he bests each of you, there are victories celebrated by each combatant, and none celebrate more than your Hetat. He praises where praise is due, Zacarish and Robb, he compliments you each on your swordsmanship as he nurses several bruises and small cuts dealt to him by your practice blades. Adam, your ferocity and speed brings a whoop of excitement from the burly giant, and despite the fact that the bout ends with you on your ass in the middle of the training ring, your Hetat's grin of pride causes any disappointment to melt away. Aalrik, he complements you on the unique way you brought some of your powers to bear in the bout, using you as an example to the others, urging them to think outside of the box. Isira, like Adam, Nesrin is amazed at your speed, your natural affinity for moving several times faster than a normal person can, he places a heavy hand on your shoulder, saying that he had to tax his own windwalking abilities almost to their max to keep up with you. Sven and Daruk, it is during your duels that the Hetat smiles most, pitting earth born skill against earthborn skill. The training yard trembles and shakes as you work to best him. He laughs out loud, pleased that he was gifted with two warriors so skilled in the area of fury craft in which he himself started. Daruk he also is intrigued at the way that you use your different skills so well in tandem with the other. Eldur your controlled careful use of your fireskills and the speed and accuracy of your spear work impresses your Hetat, his head nodding in approval as he uses his own powers to extinguish a smoldering hem of his training pants as he helps you to your feet. All in all Nesrin impresses you with the respect that he shows you all. 

It is not all praise and laughter though, he balances that praise with excellent advice. Correcting form and grips, pointing out weaknesses in your stances and defenses, as well as matter of factly describing ways to gain more control over your own abilities. After the three days that you all spend dueling him individually you all find that you can mark areas where you have improved even over a short time. The man is a natural leader, who inspires confidence and has earned your respect several times over. 

The day after individual sparring ends, you all find yourselves in one of the large fields that dot the landscape of Deidre. Each morning for the last everal weeks, the Qalm left the confines of the Temple, borne by air carriage to the ouskirts of the fortress country. Nesrin has told you that he is going to teach you all to fight as a team and that is exactly what he goes about doing. One of his favorite tactics is to place the metal and earth walkers in the center, back to back, using the the wind, water, and fire walkers to push enemies into the meat grinder that the earth and metal walkers become. They fire walkers can clear the flanks, having wide berth to use their abilities without needing to worry about collateral damage. Over this time you really start to learn about each other, how you fight, and how you use your abilities. Nesrin tests you garnering help from another Earth Master, a stoic man by the name of Talebat Natua, these masters of the discipline send wave after wave of combat drones, made from earth and clay, at the Qalm, testing their mettle and how they work as a group. Each day left you battered and bruised, but filled with confidence in the warriors at your side. 

In your down time you find joy and comfort in the warriors that you have been bonded to. Your shared meals, shared training time, and shared down time have been times that have taught you much of each other. Through the ever present presence of your Qalm mates through the bond and through the bond of shared combat and loss the group of incredibly different people have started to become the family of warriors that a Tashiri Qalm is supposed to be. 

[I give you all free reign to talk about whatever you wish to talk about. Describe your experiences, Come up with snippets of conversation, between your characters, get with each other via PM or MSN and decide how you all interact with one another. This particular update is one that is to be used to grow your character, enhance the feel of their personality, to really interact with the other players on a level that is far deeper than just the throws and chaos of combat.]

ALL: On the morning of the 22nd day since you returned from the Vicery hive, you all awake to find that small notes have been slid under each of your doors. You do not recognize the handwriting, but it is signed at the bottom by Nesrin. Each not bears instructions to report to a master for additional Fury training. Over the course of the last several weeks, Nesrin has inquired of each of you as to where you want your abilities to progress to and taking those things into account, he has made the necessary arrangements for Masters in your disciplines to continue your training. 

Adam(Serpion5): Your instructions are to report to Master Enariel Y'nan. This is a name that you have heard before and you know that Master Y'nan is a renowned Windwalker among the Tashiri. Throughout the early days of your training as an apprentice you heard tales of the elusive Master, things that brought his standing to the height of a legend, a true master of the sky. Nesrin's tight scrawl on the note provides directions to Master Y'nan's chambers, in the top tallest tower on the west side of the Talissariat, and wasting no time you make your way there. Knocking on the door, a melodic tenor voice tells you to enter. As you do, you are awestruck at the layout of the room. The entire ceiling and the exterior wall are translucent, his chambers protected from the elements by a shimmering shield of hardened air. Despite the fact that you would think it to be freezing so high up, the conditions in the room are beautiful, the backdrop framed by a view that takes your breath away. The sound of someone clearing their throat tears your eyes away from the scene in front of you and you turn to see a high elf, his features radiant in the morning sunlight. He wears the ivory garb of the Tashiri, but about his waist is a gold trimmed black sash instead of the ruby red or even the purple of a Hetat. His dark auburn hair is held out of his face by a circlet of silver, the only other visible adornment a silver bracelet on his left wrist. He smiles, obviously excited to have you and simply says, gesturing to the wide open sky outside his large room, "Welcome Adam. I have heard that you wish to learn to fly." 

Zacarish(Santaire): Your instructions are to report to Hedrin Hammerfist. You smile as you read this because you are fairly familiar with the stalwart Dwarven smith having worked beside him in the forges of the Talissariat nn several occasions. There are directions contained in the note from Nesrin, leading you to Hammerfist's forge, but you barely glance at them, your feet already carrying you out into the halls and eventually down several levels to smithies located near the bottom of the Talissariat. Entering the forge you are surprised to hear the clank of armored feet behind you. Turning you see Daruk walking down the hall behind you. You have come to like Daruk over the last several weeks. Despite the fact that he tends to keep to himself more than his Mountain cousin Sven, he shares a fiery temper and has a keen blade. Before you are able to ask Daruk what he is doing here, seeing as he is a fire and earth walker, a loud gruff voice rings out of the forge, over the clanking of a hammer on an anvil. "Are you going to get in here or not you two? This work isn't going to do itself now is it." Entering the forge you see Hammerfist, stripped from the waist up save for a heavy leather apron, sweat glistening off of muscles that have seen nearly a century and a half behind a blacksmith's hammer. His dark black mane of hair and bushy beard held back from the flames by several glittering silver rings along the length of each. His ivory shirt hangs from a peg by the door and just peeking out from behind his leather apron is the green sash that marks him an instructor. The hiss of steam erupts into the room as he plunges a piece of metal into a pail of vinegar water, its pungent steam adding to the aroma of the room. Wordlessly he juts his hammer in the direction of tools. Any questions you may have about the training you are supposed to be receiving are answered with a raised eyebrow and a gesture to the forge. Laughing you collect your tools and get to work. 

Daruk(deathbringer): Your instructions are to report to a Hedrin Hammerfist. The name is not familiar to you, but it screams Dwarven heritage. The prospect of your training being under a Dwarf is something that fills you with excitement. It has been some time since you have been at the forge, but as with all of your race, you do possess some rudimentary skill. The fact that you will be working under not only a skilled metal walker, but a Dwarven one gets you moving down the halls, following the directions contained within Nesrin's note. You find yourself walking down a hallway, the scent and heat of the forges ahead already reaching your senses, but you are surprised to find that Zacarish is entering the forge just ahead of you. Over the last weeks you have come to see the Dark Elf warrior in a new light. He is a fervent fighter, possessing the same fiery spirit that you do, relishing in the chaotic twist and fervor of battle. He looks at you quizzically, but before you are able to answer a loud gruff voice rings out of the forge, over the clanking of a hammer on an anvil. "Are you going to get in here or not you two? This work isn't going to do itself now is it." Entering the forge you see Hammerfist, stripped from the waist up save for a heavy leather apron, sweat glistening off of muscles that have seen nearly a century and a half behind a blacksmith's hammer. His dark black mane of hair and bushy beard held back from the flames by several glittering silver rings along the length of each. His ivory shirt hangs from a peg by the door and just peeking out from behind his leather apron is the green sash that marks him an instructor. The hiss of steam erupts into the room as he plunges a piece of metal into a pail of vinegar water, its pungent steam adding to the aroma of the room. Wordlessly he juts his hammer in the direction of tools. Any questions you may have about the training you are supposed to be receiving are answered with a raised eyebrow and a gesture to the forge. Shaking your head with a small smile at the the welcome you have received you collect your tools and get to work.

Isira(Jackinator): Your instructions are to report to Jarruk Getmin, whose quarters are located in one of the four weather observatories located at the cardinal points of the Talissariat. This is an area of the Temple that you have never been to and honestly you had no idea that the Talissariat had weather observatories. It is quite a distance from your quarters to the Western Observatory, but your walk is one that provides you great enjoyment as it takes you through one of the botanical gardens fastidiously maintained by the Wood Walkers of the Tashiri Order. Walking through these areas that buslte with activity and life lifts your spirits. You took the loss of Djinn and Belak the hardest and it has been more of a struggle for you to deal with the emptiness that still hides in the recesses of your heart. As you approach the door that you have been lead to by Nesrin's directions you knock, several times but hear no answer. Pressing your ear to the door you hear what sounds like thunder and rain, which confuses you slightly as you distinctly remember the skies being clear when you left your room. Pushing the door open slightly, you see that the room beyond is a large laboratory, a long table full of strange insturments dominating the center of the room. The room's only occupant is a rather strange looking man. He is a portly fellow with a balding pate, his silver-white hair sticking out from the sides of his head in unruly tufts, the green sash of the instructor around the waist of his ivory pants. He has a pair of gold rimmed spectacles perched on the end of his nose that quiver as he stares into a large glass globe sitting on the table in front of him. It is what is inside the globe that fascinates you. A miniature thunderstorm, black clouds, rain, and lightning, swirls within the confining glass. The man, who must be Getmin, takes up a pen with ink stained fingers, jotting down a few notes on a pad of paper, and doesn't seem to notice you until you get his attention. Your voice startles him so much that he jumps, spectacles sliding down the end of his nose to dangle from the chain that keeps them around his neck. As he looks at you he will smile, "Glad you made it." He will point to the glass, "What I will be teaching you is the first step on the road to being able to control that." He will giggle, "Marvelous isn't it." What are your first impressions of the man? Do you say anything in return?

Robb(Lord Ramo): Your are told to report to Mistress Alana Frendel. The name is familiar to you, knowing that she oversees the Infirmary in the temple. You have seen her from afar several times in your various visits there over the years, but you have never spoken to her or seen her up close. You find yourself slightly nervous at the prospect of attempting to learn a new fury discipline. The workings of metal, the forge, and the sword all came very naturally to you, but the discipline of water has always seemed so fluid, Despite your nerves you are excited by the challenge and with one of the strongest Water Walkers of the Tashiri to teach you, you feel that you can't help but succeed. You are surprised that instead of being called to the Infirmary to meet your new instructor, you are direced by Nesin's note to one of the gardens in the Talissariat that you know to hold a large pond. As you enter the garden you see Mistress Frendel, kneeling by the side of the pond, a single finger touching its surface, but over a hundred small tendrils of water arching hear and there providing the life giving substance to beds of flowers and creeping vines. Her beauty startles you, her flowing straw colored hair catching the light in a way that makes it seem to shine, her pale skin glistening in the rays of the sun that filter in through the large windows. Instead of the pants and shirt typical to most Tashiri, she wears a flowing gown of the same fabric, around her waist a sash of deep ebony trimmed in gold, marking her station as a Tashiri Master. As you begin to approach, she will stand and face you, her face ageless, a sign of her calling as a Water Walker, her expression stern. "What would bring one such as you, someone born to heat and metal and war, to learn from me?" How do you respond?

Aalrik(Apidude): You are instructed to report to the aboretum, the great forrest of trees that ring the edges of the floating island that houses the Talissariat, to learn from a Woodelf known only as the Gladekeeper. You have heard tell of this mysterious Tashiri throughout the course of your life, but you and the other children always thought him some sort of myth. That Nesrin has arranged for you to not only meet him, a living legend, a Master Wood Walker, speaks to not only Nesrin's standing in the order but the regard in which he holds you. You are told to leave the Talissariat through the Eastern gate and as you do the sunrising over the great forrest takes your breath away with its regal beauty, the forrest alight with the first rays of the sun. You were given no real instruction as to how you were to find the Gladekeeper, save to make your way through the forrest toward the eastern edge of the island. You start out at an easy jog, moving through the trees and after about twenty minutes you are joined by your wolf-brothers, Hurel and Ickbit, the great wolves materializing out of the trees to run at your side, lopsided grins showing their formidable fangs, but everything about their body language expressing joy to be able to hunt with you again. About an hour or so before mid-day, you stop to take a rest. You are deep in the forrest, the great canopy above nearly blotting out the sky completely, your surroundings bathed in the greenish light of the rays of the sun shining through the dense foliage. Hurel and Ickbit suddenly raise their heads, ears and muzzles pointing in the same direction, to the north. At first you think that the newcomer that suddenly joins you had stepped out from behind a great oak, appearing so suddenly and quietly that it takes even you by surprise, but astonished, you realize that he stepped out of the tree itself. The Gladekeeper, for his could be no one else, is a woodelf of surprising height, you would think that he would rival Nesrin in that regard, his deep brown hair tied back in a single plait, grey touching his temples speaking to his great age even for an elf. He wears the ivory pants of the Tashiri, but his jerkin seems to be of a different cloth entirely, a pale green color, that blends into the forrest behind him, around his waist is an ebony sash trimmed in gold. "Welcome back to the realm of Einherjar, Aalrik son of Broughere. I am the one they call the Gladekeeper," he intones regally, his expression serious.... before you looks down at you with a wide smile," but you young one, may call me Nevar. Come, let us walk, rid yourself of the last of the sands of the wastes. My home will be ours until our business is complete." With that he will turn and walk off into the woods leaving you to catch up. 

Eldur(Anilar): You are told to report to your old master Mirran Alar. The thought of being under his tutelage again filling you with joy and purpose. As you walk down the halls of the Talissariat you reflect on your life with the Tashiri and the events of the last several weeks. Being a part of a Qalm, a battle group, is what you had always asipred to. How is Eldur feeling about the last several weeks of training and getting to really know his Qalm mates? Your thoughts dissipate as you arrive in front of Alar's chambers. You reflect on the fact that in all the time you have known him, you have never been in, or even been near to his quarters. Knockin on the door you are told to enter, Alar's strong voice ringing out from the rear part of the large rooms. Just inside the chamber, lit by several braziers and torches, you find a large room with a large circle, approximately 15 feet across, containing a complicated spiral of interlocking circles inside it. From a back room Alar will step out, his closecut black hair, streaked liberally with silver, but his muscles and stature seem completely undiminished by age. He wears the ivory of the tashiri, though as you are used to, the sleeves of the shirt have been removed, leaving his upper arms bear, around his waist an emerald sash marking him an instructor. He grasps your hand warmly, noticing your fascination with the intricate circles in that dominate the room he will walk over, "Ah yes, this will be the first tool in learning the control necessary for the new disciplines you wish to master. Come we will walk the steps of the Kallimatar together." 

Sven(Therizza): You are surprised to find that when you unfold your letter that it says for you to meet Nesrin in the dining hall. As you enter the room, you will find him seated at the table, a large breakfast sat in front of him, another plate laid out for you, you assume it is yours from the way he nods at it and points to the chair in front of it. Sitting down, you tuck in, the meal passed in comradery, him sharing tales of times long gone by, as he asks you questions of your home and childhood. You are once again surprised how personably your leader is, enjoying his company nearly as much as the Dwarf Daruk who you have become rather close to over the last several weeks. Finally the meal is finished and the large man levers himself up out of his chair. You have noticed the rest of the Qalm leaving at intervals, presumably to go for their additional training, and Nesrin seems to notice the question of what you are supposed to be doing lingering on your lips. "Well, lets be off, I can't teach you anything sitting in the dining hall." With a smile he walks down the hallway, clearly expecting you to follow. 

Sol(Angel of Blood):As you unfold the letter in you are keen to find that you have been directed to none other than Hetat Aleanatin. You are slightly ashamed to admit that since your Qalm's return you have thought very little of the other Qalm's that were sent to assault the Vicery hive alongside your own, but the stoic elf's name on the piece of paper in front of you brings back the fact that his entire Qalm was lost in the assault. The sharp memory of their funeral services weeks ago once again fresh in your mind and it is with a heavy heart that you traverse the corridors of the Talisariat, following the directions Nesrin provided. An uncomfortable grief falls over you as you stand outside the door that leads into a dorimtory very similar to your own, save for the fact that a pall of sadness hangs over this one. Entering you find that the halls are deserted, the silence almost deafening, broken only by the tread of your own feet on the stone floor. You wonder why Aleanatin has elected to remain in these depressing quarters, but before you can muse on the matter further Aleanatin steps through the doorway that leads to the training hall for this dorm. The elf stands, taller than you, but wirey in comparison to your stocky frame, his face an emotionless mask. "It is good to see you again Sol. I have been told by Nesrin that you wish to expand your skills. I do not normally instruct, but the Radan feels that it would be good for me to become involved in something other than quiet contemplation." The last statement betrays a slight hint of irration and a glimmer of the sadness that roils behind his gleaming eyes. "Come," He says turning into the training hall, "We shall begin straight away."

[Angel of Blood- Respond to the ALL sections as well as your individual update. As I have said with the others you do not need to cover anything past following Aleanatin into the training hall and whatever your impressions may be of him. We will deal with that next update. Glad to see you back and get with me if you have any questions.]

[Alrighy folks, for this update you are going to get to know your new teachers. If you have any questions ask them of the NPCs at the ends of your posts and I will answer them from the instructors perspective. I have decided not to waste a bunch of time with actually going through the training step by step over several updates, so dont worry about that. The next update will progress about 5-6 months into the future, where we will start out again with you having mastered the skills you decided to learn. If you have any questions at all don't hesitate to get with me.]


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## Midge913

*Sol*

POSTED FOR ANGEL OF BLOOD:

Angel of Blood	09-28-12 11:45 PM
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It had been a long and arduous battle, one that had cost them dearly, demanding sacrifices to achieve their victory. A pyrrhic victory. Sol had always been a hard man, volatile and harsh, but the fallen had been connected to him via the bonding, as the new comers now were. The loss was felt by all of the Qualm, it got under his skin, a nagging feeling he just couldn't shake. Exhausted didn't quite describe how he felt, drained, fatigued, numb. Unsurprisingly he decided to shun the company of others for now, though this solitude was not this time because of his aloof nature, but in part due to how tired he felt and also from grief. Sol made his way to his room without really paying attention to the route, almost surprised when he arrived at his room, unable to recall the path he took. He lit the hearth settled within the wall with a tired wave, igniting a roaring flame that he collapsed in front of. Stripped down to the waist, exposing his cut and bruised torso, he wearily sat into a meditative posture, sitting back onto his heels. He called forth the fire to wash over him, letting the flames flow over his body. The waves of fire rolled over him, cleansing him and rejuvenating him more completely than sleep ever could, the furies bound within the flames reaching out to heal his wounds, soothe his muscles and calm his mind. He stayed in this meditative trance for many hours, unaware of the nights passage.

The rising sun finally brought him out of his trance. The sun was the most powerful force in existence and to a fire walker like himself, beyond beautiful. What he would give to harness even a fraction of its power. 

Rising steadily to his feet he took a deep breath. He felt wholly refreshed and energised. Physically at least, the loss still tugging in some recess of his psyche. He ran his hands through his course hair, realising that for the first time in an age, his time was his own, realising even more that he had no idea what to do with this free time. Shrugging he began his morning ritual, stretching his muscles out before carrying out well rehearsed drills in his various fighting techniques. With his physical abilities warmed up, he began to test his elemental skills. Calling worth fire from the flames, forming small but potent fire balls that he threw back into the fire, making ribbons of flames swirl around his body, calling upon the air furies to lift him gently into the air as he did so. Satisfied he lowered himself back to the ground, dispelling the fire with a casual flick of his hands. Donning fresh robes, he took to wandering the halls of the vast Talaisarat, conversing with fellow Tashiri warriors, exchanging brief accounts of the battle and other trivial news. At around noon the Qualm gathered and had a great feast to celebrate their victory, to mourn their losses and to look forward to the future.

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After the feast and rare day of relaxation, Nesrin and the Qualm launched into a rigorous and demanding training regime. The training started with individual sparring with Nesrin himself. One by one they entered the ring and tested their abilities and prowess against the formidable Hetat. Sol watched his fellow Tashiri fight with considerable talent and skill, giving their all to try and defeat Nesrin. None of them succeeded. When Sol stepped up against him he launched into a blistering attack of one of his many martial arts, but for all his skill and enhanced speed, Nesrin barely broke a sweat blocking his attacks. He tried to launch himself into the air to leap over the Hetat or attack him from above, but before he had even risen a foot off the ground, Nesrin had entangled his ankles with roots sprung from the ground and hauled him back down. It was only when he unleashed his wild and ferocious fire abilities that Nesrin ever appeared to fight back with actual effort. Nesrin complimented him on his use of fire, but warned him not to let it overcome him, reminding him that although the fire furies were powerful and fierce, they were also some of the wildest and hardest to real in once fully unleashed. 

After every bout, Nesrin would give them all excellent advice and guidance. From the lessons Nesrin taught him, Sol improvised and implemented new strategies. Instead of fighting with just one art, he would blend them together, flowing from one discipline to the next, always keeping Nesrin guessing, never allowing him to get comfortable or anticipate his next attack. Whenever he launched into the air now he would fire a short stream of fire from his palms as he did so, burning through any roots trying to anchor him down. For all his efforts and improvements though, he, like the rest was still unable to defeat Nesrin, though they all inflicted more hits on their Hetat than before.

Next they moved onto learning how to fight as a coordinated and cohesive team, complimenting each others skills and fighting styles, learning how to combine the different furies to devastating effect. Pitted against combat drones made of earth, Sol would combine with the other fire walkers to keep the flanks clear, flying from one flank to the next, able to unleash his powerful and furious attacks without fear of harming his Qualm. 

After all the training sessions, the Qualm would feast together, congratulating each other on their performances, boasting of their own prowess or engaging in friendly banter. They would spend increasing amounts of their down time with each other as well. Sol normally would have chosen to avoid such gatherings and not to engage in the camaraderie they all were starting to show. Though he was still relatively cold, aloof or abrasive to those not of his Qualm, the bond had changed his attitude towards his fellow warriors, to the point where he now saw them as brothers and sisters, a family, as a Qualm should be. He would still appear harsh, glowering and was still by far the most reserved of the group, still electing to spend time more time in solitude than most, but there was now a hint of amusement behind his expression and words, a ghost of a rare smile playing across his craggy features and a glint in his eyes. 

———————————————————————————

Sol woke up one morning to find a letter had been slipped under his door during the night, signed by Nesrin instructing him to report to Hetat Aleanatin, a name he instantly recognised with apprehension and anticipation. Aleanatin had lost his entire Qualm during the attack on the Vicery hive, Sol couldn't even begin to imagine the loss the elf must still be feeling, the loss of just some of his own still always present in his own mind. A sudden feeling of shame rolled through him as he realised he had paid very little thought, if any to the other Qualms who had suffered losses during the assault. The instructions informed him that he would be developing his fury abilities Nesrin had spoke to him over the previous days, inquiring as to how Sol had wanted to develop his abilities. It was during these talks that Sol had confided in him that over the past weeks he had started to witness his fire sometimes appear to take on the forms of some sort of winged creature, indistinct and brief, but there nonetheless. Nesrin had advised him that it might be a fury attached to him attempting to manifest itself to him, but unable to at this time. He assured Sol that in the coming days he would petition a master fire walker to aid him in fully manifesting this fury with private and dedicated training. Aleanatin must be that master.

It was therefore with a heavy heart and some reservation that he made his way to the Hetats quarters, still within the now empty dorm of his lost Qualm. When he reached the dorm he hesitated at the entrance, as he detected the sadness that clung to the area. He slowly entered and walked across the hall, his footsteps echoing loudly within the deserted hall. Aleanatin then appeared at the entrance of the training hall, silent as the rooms he now occupied. Looking at the wiry elf, Sol once again felt a pang of shame and guilt, perhaps he or some of the others should have tried to seek out the Hetat rather than leave him alone with his thoughts. Sol was no stranger to confining oneself to solitude, he was all to aware of where it could lead, how it would amplify the worries and thoughts that plagued you. But unlike him, Aleanatin did not have a Qualm to distract him from those thoughts, to bring him out of his self imposed isolation. Sol bowed before the Hetat and greeted him formally. In return he greeted Sol emotionlessly, though it seemed for a moment to Sol as if he would have preferred to have been left well alone. Before he could give it any more thought however the elf had turned to the training hall, telling him to follow. More training awaited, perhaps Sol could help bring the elf back from the darkness and loneliness that had surrounded him since than fateful day.


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## Midge913

*Eldur*

POSTED FOR ANILAR:
Anilar	10-04-12 12:03 AM
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Eldur went straight to his chambers after the joining. He didn't pay any attention to anyone, he was simply too exhausted with everything that had happened, that he did not have the energy to eat or converse with other Tashiri about there victory over the vicery. Back at his chambers, Eldur lit a fire in the fireplace letting its comfortable heat wash over him, as he placed his spear and his back up daggers on his weapon rack. Removing his armour with great reverence placing it on its stand, letting his fingers running along the scratches and dents, that it had received in the battle with the Vicery. It had protected Eldur well in the caverns and he was in no doubt that he 
would had been seriously hurt or dead if he hadn't used it. He reminded himself that he would need to thank his old master for these gifts again. Then Eldur took his necklace of with his ember rock, the focus for his control over the fire furies, in the fire, so it could recharge, there was no telling when he might be forced to use his powers once again.

Almost so tired that he passed out, Eldur still took the time to pull out a large sack from under his bed. It was filled with sand from the great desert of Namanole, Eldur poured the sand out over the bare stone floor, the sand 
quickly catching the heat of the fire. Instead of laying down in his soft bed, with his feather filled pillow and soft blanket, he found his old thin blanket from his days of silence in the desert. Laying down on the hard sand 
filled floor naked, only covered by his blanket, Eldur found the peace and grounding he needed to truly relax, and fall into a blissful sleep.

If he had dreamed or not Eldur could not tell when he awoke, but he felt reinvigorated and very hungry. But before he went to the dining hall, Eldur first cleaned up his room, collected the sand in the sack again, he had only 
used it a few times since he had returned from Namanole, but this one time, completely removed any doubt that he had felt from dragging the large sack full of sand, all the way from Namanole to his home on the Talisariat. He 
picked up his ember stone, from the dying fire, it had been completely refreshed with the heat and fire needed for Eldur to draw upon it, in a situation where he was without other sources of fire furies. Taking a long bath, Eldur could also quench his thirst and wash away the blood, vicery goo, sweat, dirt and sand that his body was covered with. He had not felt so dirty, since his old master had but him through a training exercise in the middle of a swamp in a raining season.

Eldur now felt he could show himself publicly again, but before going to the dining hall to fill his ever more growling stomach, Eldur took his armour cleaned it up and brought it down to the armoury to get it repaired from its battle damage. Eldur had from his time in the desert learned, that working equipment could easily be the difference between life or death. And delaying for some food he could always go get, would simply be stupid, for all he knew another battle could wait for them in a short time.

Walking back through the halls and walkways from the armoury, Eldur could see servants was running back and forth with platters and bowls filled with all kinds of food on them, it seemed that all the qalms that had been fighting 
was given a feast to celebrate there victory, and Eldur increased his speed and he was not disappointed as he reached the dining hall of his own qalm. Nesrin and a few of the others had allready dugged into the food placed on the table. It was a feast worthy of kings of old, the kind of feast the bards could sing songs about. But Eldur was so hungry, that simple porridge would have been the greatest meal he had tasted in a very long time. But here there was roasted pheasant breast, mead marinated pork, fresh fruit and vegtables, fine soups, various sauces anything not present, wasn't worth having on the table. And there was fine drink, wine, the best ale, mead and beer in all the nations. Eldur dug in with ferocius appetite, in the future he still can't quite understand his Fire bison hadn't manifested during the feast, so much had Eldur indulged in the feast. And still he was easily bested by the 
likes of Nesrin, his massive stature craving more food than Eldur could hope to consume over several days.

But the feast was also used in the memory of those they had lost, toast was made for all those that had fallen during the battle, those young Tashiri like themselves that had there dreams of long lived service and glory distinguised in the fires of battle. Sacrifices that had made it possible for the qalm to press into the heart of the vicery hive, and take out the queen. Victories that brought forth the first few smiles and laughs in the qalm among the tears and sadness that was also present. It was a dark day and a great day, and Eldur found that he felt blessed that he had become a part of this qalm under the leadership of the mighty warrior hetat Nesrin.

Finding his courage, Eldur rose in the feast with his mug of mead in hand. 
"Brothers, sisters and Hetat." Eldur said out loud getting the others attention. "As we are all bonded you can all feel how sincere I am, when I say im truly honoured to be among great Tashiri the likes of you all, and im honoured that I can call my self a brother of you all. I know I have yet to fight directly with you all, but be certain that I will never falter from protecting your backsides, so you can go directly for the throat of the enemy and cut of the head of the snakes that we might meet in the future. May our qalm be worthy of our Hetat's trust and expectations." Raising his mug to all of the qalm and a respectful nod to Nesrin, Eldur took a deep drag of his mead, before he sat down again, to dig into the splendid food once again.

But the day of the feast was the only spare time the Qalm had been provided, Nesrin not resting started a intense training session with the Qalm. Eldur could almost feel how much Nesrin wanted them all to become better both individually and as a qalm, so they could better fight whatever threats they might be faced with in the future. Nesrin started out with individually sparring with them all, one by one. Eldur watches as several are bested by 
Nesrin, and even thou Eldur follows the rest in cheering his brothers and sisters on in there bouts against Nesrin, they are beaten one by one. But no defeat felt wrong as Nesrin was equally forthcoming with praise as he was critique and instructions.

Soon it was Eldur's turn to pit his skills against the Hetat, but as Eldur had observed the others he was in no doubt that he would be bested. He did not have the fighting prowess of the blade masters, the speed of the windwalkers, expecially not the combined abilities of fire and wind that Sol showed. Or the power of the Earth. So Eldur entered the sparring circle with a mindset of a different goal than winning. If he was to ever fight someone so much more powerful than himself, he would be fighting with his qalm, not alone. So he would either be fighting to distract his opponent from the real threat from his Qalm or he would be fighting a delaying action, that should 
buy enough time for his qalm mates to get to safety or prepare for the threat they were fighting. So Eldur knew that he had to make the fight take as long as he possible could manage. 

Clad in pratice lamellar armour to imitate his own armour and carrying his own spear, the tip covered with a thick leather sheath to protect those he sparred with from harm. Eldur placed himself in a basic defensive stance, just 
to see if Nesrin would attack first. Not that he had done so against the others, but it was clear to Eldur that even a experienced Hetat like Nesrin, was still more experienced in facing off against, blades, axes and crushing 
weapons. But Eldur was careful, knowing that Nesrin might very well just imitate a defensive stance used against close melee weapons, to draw Eldur into a hastily attack, that would make him loose his balance which Nesrin could exploit. So slowly turning his spear down to his right side in a straight arm, Eldur sprang into motion with a big woosh he set his spear aflame, as he took a step forward. But all to mask his true attack, one of his two wooden 
daggers in his belt, was grabbed by his left hand thrown as it was set aflame at the same time as he had made his spear burst into flame. Now the daggers weren't made for powerful presicion throws, but it was enough to force the hetat into calling upon the earth furies to make a small wall that caught the dagger. But Eldur had still not meant the dagger to be nothing more than a distraction, the earth wall covering some of the Hetats vision as Eldur took another step forward, swinging his spear up towards the Hetats head, the furies of fire screaming with glee as they moved through the air. Nesrin parried the strike easily with his weapon. But the earth wall and the flames from Eldurs spear still obscured the Hetats vision, which Eldur used to throw a small fireball from his left hand. But the Hetat was fast, and even thou Eldur had seen his speed, he was still taken by surprise facing that speed. 

Nesrin spun away from his previous position, at the same time with a wind blast, he shattered his small earth wall, so earth fragments was blasted into the path of the fireball. Eldur was forced to take a couple of steps back, as 
most of the fireballs blast was absorbed by the fragments of earth that had intercepted it, and several pieces of earth had become fiery fragments of flame, which was directed toward Eldur. Thou the attack had been a surprise for Eldur, it was not something that was too dangerous for Eldur, the furies of fire giving him power not hurting him.

Nesrin and Eldur started to circle around each other, Eldur fired a few fireballs off, which Nesrin easily deflected with various powers or avoided all together. But suddenly Nesrin was over Eldur, seemingly attacking from every 
direction at once. It took Eldur all his skill to deflect the worst of blows, his armour taking the brunt of the attacks, but even with his small stature compared to the strength and power of Nesrin, Eldur managed to stay upright and entering a rotating whirling defense form his old master had taught him, not that it could completely counter the attacks of a wind and metal enhanced swordmasters, it was designed to buy time. And direct the attacks towards the areas of his armour that provided the best protection. Eldur was taxed to the max, keeping Nesrin's attacks from him, trying to find a way out of his situation, something that could buy him a little more time. 

Then he spotted it, during a short weapon lock between Eldurs spear and Nesrins blade, a nail in the had guard. Eldur had never reacted so fast before, he used his control over the flames still burning around his spear, to let a flame lick over Nesrins blade. Connecting a fury of fire to the nail, a fury that Eldur coaxed into heating the metal, starting to soot the wood around it. But more importantly, Eldur could suddenly feel where Nesrins blade was, and he started to direct his spear into more efficient parries and even a few counterattacks. Nesrin stepped back from his assault smiling, nodding at Eldur while he used his own powers to cool down the nail in his blade, before it would make the wood burst into flame.

"Very good young Tashiri, quick reactions might be what keeps you alive. This fight takes a lot longer time than I had expected. Now attack!" Eldur didn't spend much time, following what was clearly a order from his Hetat more than a provocation. Eldur made a basic stabbing attack at the Hetat, intensifying the flames on the spear while he did so, to mask the exact position of the spear. Eldur knew the Hetat could feel where the metal was, so it was more a vague hope that the Hetat eyes might be betrayed by the searing flame, than his senses of the metal furies could compensate for. But it was in vain, as Nesrin easily parried all Eldurs strikes, as he faster and faster striked at the hetat. But nothing truly came through the hetats defenses, apart from the spears flames seemed to catch the hems of the hetats sleeves, burning them around the edges. Eldur shiftet between striking with both hands on his spear, and one hand, trying to gauge when he might be able to get a fireball through the Hetat's defenses.

Suddenly it seemed to Eldur that there would be an opening, as the hetat seemed to loose his balance and sink down to one knee. Taking a step forward, Eldurs right hand directed his spear towards Nesrins throat, his left hand throwing a fireball towards his chest. At least it would have been where Eldur would have hit if he had been fighting a training dummy, but he was fighting a experienced Hetat, that had decided to end the fight. Eldur's aim was completely thrown off, as he was hit by a localised earthquake together with a windblast that knocked the air out of Eldur, making him land hard on his behind, loosing his spear and making the fireball hit the ground a feet in front Nesrin. The blast big enough, to make the hem of his pants catch fire. Nesrin soon after loomed over Eldur that was still gasping for air on the ground, his blade demostratively sliding over Eldurs throat. Before Nesrin reached down to help Eldur back up on his feet.

Eldur nodded as he stood up, taking in all the advice Nesrin provided, he had observation on everything from stances, attack patterns, the use of his fireskills. And what seemed to be Eldurs lack in ability to 
counter attacks combining several powers. But Eldur could not truly feel defeat, as his personal goal of dragging out the combat had been achieved, and he was still complemented in his control over the fire furies and the speed of his spear. Thou Eldur knew he had no power over wind or metal, if those furies would ever speak to him, he knew he would become a true force on the battlefield. And the sparring circle was still somewhat limited, as he could not unleash the power of raging inferno, or throw truly massive fireballs. Or call upon his fire bison Kebakaran, as it was a stampeding monster in battle. But still Eldur could feel how fast he became better, sparring with Nesrin, keeping the furiosity of his attack up, not giving the Hetat time to combine his powers as often as he could early on. And more importantly for Eldur, the fights took longer and longer time.

And so Eldur watched most of the sparring matches, as he also observed how the others from the qalm fought, all doing there best to reach there personal goals against the Hetat. Eldur always reflecting on how he could fight, to enhance there abilities or he could be boosted by his qalm mates. But it was still days before group training would begin. One day sitting on the floor, watching Nesrin instruct some of his qalm mates, Robb came over to Eldur.

"Eldur, I was wondering if you would wish to spar against me? I know I'm at a natural advantage being a metal walker but still would be nice to see what you fight like."

Eldur looked up on the much taller Robb, he was the first, apart from Nesrin, that had challenged him. A smile on his lips, "it will be my pleasure". 
Eldur arose from the floor. He went over and picked up a training spear, one that had the same weight and length of his own spear. And went to the middle of a practise mat looking at the swordsman who was also preparing himself. 
Eldur took of his shirt, so he would be painfully aware of any hits Robb would land. "We gonna fight with or without tricks" Eldur asked his opponent while he loosened up a bit. He could see Robb smile, while he grabbed his own practice sword. He kept his robe on as he tested the weight of his weapon and the balance, swinging it around experimentally. "I won't be 
using tricks my friend though if you wish to, I won't begrudge you. It will make my victory more satisfying." Robb said as he flashed a wicked smile at Eldur. 

"Confident are we." Eldur asked quizically. He could see Robb adopted a defensive stance, it seemed Robb would await for Eldur to start the fight. "Well lets see how badly Im doing, before I retort to tricks. A wooden spear like this can only be on fire for so long anyways." Eldur had like the rest of them seen Robb's speed in the test fight against Nesrin. So Eldur knew his chances were in his use of a wooden training spear without metal, and his fighting style that was not widespread among the Tashiri. Eldur made the obligatory bow before the fight, that symbolised that this fight was done in a respectful manner between the two opponents. Eldur did not loose any time after the bow, making a long lunge at robb, aiming for the center mass of his body, holding the spear in one hand at its end.

Robb smiled at Eldur's comments, "Well I wouldn't say confident, more like I'm looking forward to this. Smart use using wood." He said as he bowed as well, Robb leapt left as a response to Eldur's lunge, his blade barely deflecting the spear. Eldur should have seen the dodge coming, most swordsmen that didn't use shields would have made a deflection parry, but most weren't agile fighters like Robb, but eldur kept the pressure up, even thou he had slightly overstepped overreaching the attack. So Robb had plenty of time to get upright, before Eldur could continue the attack with a sidesweep holding the spear in a more natural two handed grip. 

Robb righting himself quickly, as he twisted left dropping to one knee as he parried with his blade to his right in what Eldur could feel was an atempt to force him off balance. Robb also striked Eldur in the leg with the hilt of his sword, to aid in knocking Eldur off balance. Robb had reacted somewhat how Eldur expected, the man moving slighly further to the right, giving him slightly more time to react to the spear that was swinging in on him, getting a solid parry up. But him going down on his knee during the parry, and letting his sword strike out against one of his legs, was not something Eldur had been subject to before. Eldur could do nothing to prevent himself being tripped, but letting the momentum spin him around, Eldur quickly drew his spear back. And as he landed on his back with a loud thud, he striked out towards Robbs outstrecthed right shoulder, connecting with a pleasant thud sound as the spear connected with Robb's shoulder. A attack mainly to prevent Robb from following up on his attack, and winning with a killing blow, but a sore shoulder might make his sword movements a little slower.

Eldur quickly rolled away from Robb, standing up in a fluid motion, placing himself in a ordinary combat stance for a spear fighter. "Well fighting mostly swordsmen, It just seems they are not that happy about surprises." Eldur smiled back at Robb, giving him an acknowleding nod, knowing full well the fight wasn't over Eldur indicated to Robb to attack.
"Guessing its your turn to attack now."

Robb smiled as he leapt forward to attack, feigning to the left with his blade to draw his opponents attention, before at the last second, whipping his blade into his other hand and attempting to slash across his opponents chest.
As Robb leapt forward smiling, Eldur knew he was up to no good. It was the smile of a feinter and it didn't seem that him using his left arm slowed him down the slighest. Eldur attempted to intercept Robb's attack, with a strike 
of himself, but kept a good grip on his spear with both hands, he was somewhat ready for the feint, as the sword suddenly changed hands and was coming in on Eldur's chest. 

Quickly changing his left undergrip to a overhand grip, Eldur was just able to bring his spear up to parry the sword strike, feeling the wood of the sword just gliding over his left upperarm. Would have been a rather grizzly cut, 
his armour would have prevented thou. But as Eldur was allready turning left, he brought his spear in close to his body speartip down.
Continuing the spin as he was halfway around he began to bring the spear up in a upward gliding motion that could both cut or stab depening on how close the opponent was. 

Eldur was not quite sure what happened next, as he was finishing his turn bringing his spear up, to strike at where Robb should be. But suddenly Eldur felt a sharp pain in his side, before he was lifted off the ground and landed 
for a second time with a loud thud on his back. As Eldur looked up he saw Robb above him, a foot on his spear, locking it and Eldurs right hand in place on the training mat. A wooden sword tip to his throat it was clear to Eldur he had lost the fight. Slowly with open hand, Eldur brought his left hand up to Robb's sword. Slowly letting a finger glide down the blade, the smell of burned wood filling the air. Eldur put a message on the sword "I Yield" Robb having to lift his sword to see what was written, hoping he would read the message out loud, in hope to catch the winner of the bout in a trap of words. But alas Robb just said, "Very creative friend." As he offered his hand to help Eldur standing up. Eldur accepted the offered hand, wincing a little from the pain in his side as he stood up. "Aye I enjoyed the fight immensely, I still have a lot to learn, hope you will teach me some of it Robb."
Nesrin had watched the fight, but didn't say anything, just smiling and nodding.

Eldur didn't find the chance to spar with any other from his qalm, as they soon after found themselves travelling to deirdre. Where the group began training in fighting together as a team. As the group was assailed by earth made drones, to begin with the group tried to enforce the teachings of Nesrin with more or less success. Miscommunications, even through there telepathic bond, making powers go off to early or too late. Or the power used not sufficient to get the job done. Eldur several times burning of large swathes of innocent grass, without hitting any drones or forcing them into the killing field of the earth and metal walkers. 

But as the hours and days went by, everybody started to get a better read on everyone, as there powers started to do what they were meant to. Eldur with Sol and the wind walkers either incinerated groups of drones, or forced them towards the center of the earth and metal walkers. Where they were utterly destroyed. There was no quarter given to the defenseless drones, that to begin with had been able to move in close to them. Now the ones getting close was planned risks or just saving them for there weapons, saving the energy for there powers on larger number of drones. Several weeks of shared training, defeats, victories, bruises and shared meals the qalm truly began to bond, as all began to understood what each of them could bring to a fight. The qalm evolving into the tight knit family group, that any succesful qalm should become. At least to Eldur it was clear, that the sum of there parts was much greater than there individual parts. It was a mystery to Eldur that anyone would challenge the might of the Tashiri, as he saw how there powers could be used together, for truly devastating effects.

As they returned home, Nesrin informed them that the next day individual training would commence. Further instructions would be provided when was back at the Talissariat. Eldur was given instructions to report to his old master Mirran Alar, Eldur lighting up in a smile as he read the instructions on what to bring and the way to his masters chambers. Eldur once again reflected on his qalm, reaching what he had always aspired to become, but still so much more to learn. He had come to respect all his qalm mates, seeing there strength in there differences rather than weaknesses and problems. Thou he still was a bit envious of those that mastered several disciplines, together with great fighting abilities. But Eldur was set on becoming the best he could be, even if it meant that he only ever would master fire. It was not his qalm mates fault they had grown up in a warriors life, and had mastered several disciplines in there life, and Eldur had been a farmer with a somewhat average access to the furies of fire. On the other hand his experience and training, and his hermit years in the desert had taught him great control over the furies, so they rarely would take control of him, and the fire abilities he used would be measured to the threat they were facing.

But all these conflicts vanished as Eldur arrived to his masters quarters, where he actually had never been, not once through all those years he had spent under Mirran Alars tutelage. Knocking on the door, a strong voice that 
Eldur instantly recognised as his masters voice, rang out bidding him to enter. Inside Eldur finds a large room brightly lit by braziers, in the middle of the room a large circle almost 15 feet, filled with complicated interlocking circles. Eldur can't quite remove his gaze from the circles, and the fire furies he can sense within them, as his old master comes out from one of the back rooms, grasping Eldurs hands in a warm gesture.

"Ah yes, this will be the first tool in learning the control necessary for the new disciplines you wish to master. Come we will walk the steps of the Kallimatar together." Mirran Alar said as he started to guide Eldur over to the circles within a circle. Eldur just followed, keen to learn more.


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## Midge913

*Isira*

POSTED FOR JACKINATOR:

Jackinator	10-05-12 02:29 PM
________________________________________
She hadn't been sleeping properly. It was strange, she'd seen people die, but they'd never been friends, they'd never really been anything other than rivals, competitors. Worse, she'd been bonded to the Tashiri who had died, she'd felt their deaths, felt as their soul was ripped from this world and hurled into whatever abyss waited on the other side.

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

Nesrin moved almost as fast as she did, but his movements were far more efficient, well-calculated and effective than any of hers. It wasn't that he moved faster than her, it was that his blade was there to stop hers as though he could read her mind. In the end she found herself standing poised to strike, but with a sword point tickling her stomach.

His handwas heavy and warm when he clapped her on the back, and he almost knocked her over with the force of the blow. He spoke a few words, but they faded out and she only picked up the general meaning of what he said. It was enough to make her smile though.

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Jarruk Getmin seemed eccentric enough, unlike many of the often toned and warlike Hetat's. He was clearly old but also somewhat rotund, with wiry hair that stuck up around his balding head. He appeared to be studying what looked like a small storm in a glass, thunder, lightning and all. He must have heard her because he turned "Glad you made it." He indicated the contained tempest "what I will be teaching you is the first step on the road to being able to control that." He giggled childishly, "Marvelous isn't it."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise, somehow she hadn't expected to meet someone like this within the Tashiri fortress. He wasn't as grounded as the other veteran Tashiri she'd seen, and it did look like he was about to take off. He seemed a little mad it was true, but she somehow felt safer with him than she did with anyone else, he didn't seem even the slightest bit dangerous, though she knew he could probably conjure up a tempest without batting an eyelid.


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## Santaire

Zacarish moved slowly, calmly and gracefully as he left the gathering. Then the exhaustion hit as he stepped through the doorway and he staggered, pressing a hand against the cold, smooth stone of the wall. He felt the exhaustion pounding his mind, his body crying out for respite as he forced himself upright. His vision began to darken and he shook his head violently, realising what would happen if he let it darken entirely.

Exhaustion momentarily shaken off he continued walking, though without the cold grace of before.

He opened the door by slamming his weight against it and almost fell as it swung open unyieldingly. He stepped inside and placed his hand on the cool metal of the armoire and instantly his mind cleared. He was still exhausted but the sapping weariness that had been seeping through his mind vanished as he touched the furies within the metal. He straightened and realised that whatever it was he needed, he would not find it inside the cramped room that was his quarters.

He pushed open the door and left.

As he stepped into the great open space opposite the dining hall where he had first met Nesrin and Belak, he paused a moment, sadness showing in his features as he remembered the quick smile of the Dark Elf. Once he was beneath the open sky the furies gathered at his call. They twisted and swirled playfully around him, brushing over his skin in their eagerness. He sat cross legged on the floor and closed his eyes.

He stayed in that meditative trance until the sun had sunk well below the horizon before moving back into the dorms and stepping into his quarters and sleeping
___________________________________________

He woke with the sun and dressed himself for his morning practice before leaving the small room and walking out to the courtyard.

There he began running through a series of stretching exercises, both with and without a sword in his hand. He moved with the grace of a natural gymnast, supple and lithe in the way he shifted from pose to pose. His balance complemented these graceful movements and the speed with which he preformed the exercises turned them into a lethal dance. He grew faster and faster, whipping his sword and his body in tighter and finer motions. There was a red ribbon of silk threaded into the hilt of his sword, an edition he had made after they returned from the Vicery Hive and it added a flash of colour to his combat. Its purpose was to draw the attention of an opponent and any foe who let their attention wander would soon find cold steel buried deep in their chest. He sheathed the sword in a sudden motion and moved back into his room to dress for the upcoming day.

He strode then into the dining hall where a feast had been laid and joined his Qalm as they feasted...


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## Therizza

Awakening after a much deserved rest, Sven was rousted from his slumber by the smell of freshly baked bread and roasted meat as well as the sounds of movement in the hall. "Aye, I could eat a mountain and drink a river" he said as he pulled on his shirt, stretching his slightly sore arms. Though the fighting in the tunnels had been intense, stressing him to the brink of death itself, Sven could already tell he had grown as a fighter and as a Tashiri. Aside from the obvious physical conditioning he gained from their many skirmishes in the tunnels, as well as the final battle with the Queen, Sven could tell his earth-crafting skills had magnified. He did not know what it was, but he felt an even deeper connection with the Earth, as if he were becoming one with the ground with each step, instead of walking above it as he once did. 

He stood on the stone floor for a time, closing his eyes and trying to sense what his Qalm mates were doing. As he let his feelings flow, he could see them where they stood, like a waterfall of sand out lined with footprints and vibrations from speech. He came upon a being who appeared both immense and yet serene. He was in the banquet hall, no doubt enjoying the bread and meat whose smell had roused Sven. Before Sven could put things together, the being reached out, back into Sven's mind, beckoning him to come to the banquet hall. Though there were no words, he could tell it was Nesrin through feeling.

Sven went to the hall, and pulling up a chair, made himself a plate. Tucking in, Sven had finished his plate in a matter of moment. He made another, and enjoyed to the next few hours of kinship with his Qalm mates. This was good, as the next weeks held a whirlwind of activity for Sven and the other members of the Qalm. Nesrin had instructed that they all prepare to spar he himself. Sven was anxious, but at the same time content. He would finally be able to test what he had learned in the Vicery tunnels.

As Sven entered the sparring ring, he let himself connect with the earth. Nesrin stated that he wanted to test their strengths and weaknesses. Sven shrugged, and punched the earth, sending a shockwave of rock and dirt in a line straight towards Nesrin. The accomplished Hetat sidestepped the attack, making it seem effortless. "That was good, Sven, but you are too slow!" Nesrin yelled. Just as he did, Nesrin noticed his legs were shin deep in the earth, and sinking. Looking down, pulling at his legs, Nesrin's gazed up to see Sven as he leapt from a small stone platform he had summoned, Avalanche coming down in an arc. Though Sven thought to pull back at the last moment, he was not afforded the luxury, as Nesrin swatted him away with a stone fisted backhand.

"Good effort! I love the creativity!" Nesrin chuckled. Their battle continued, with each party scoring hits and deflecting their share. When it was done, Nesrin came over to Sven, looking as if he had not even been phased by the sparring session. "You have much potential. The raw materials are all there, so to speak. We will discuss this later. Good work Sven."

Sven waited for the completion of the sparring, wanting eagerly to eat and sleep. Training was hard, and he had a belly to fill. The next days and weeks contained much more sparring and kinship with his Qalm. Sven couldn't remember feeling the bond between them being this strong. They worked as a team, fighting in the fields outside their citadel, destroying wave after wave of automatons as they practiced combatives in close concert with each other. Life was good, as Sven could train till he was exhausted, feast and sleep and do it all over again. 

One morning, nearly a fortnight since the battle in the Vicery hive, Sven was roused as he heard a note slid beneath his door. He rose from his bunk and walked over, picking the note up. Stranger things had happened up to this point, he thought, and opened the letter, sitting cross-legged on the floor. The letter was signed by Nesrin, stating Sven should meet him in the dining hall. Sven did as such, and lo and behold Nesrin was there, eating a plate at the table. Sven took a seat, and the two recounted tales of their past. As the meal came to a close, Nesrin made to leave the room. Other members of the Qalm had been mulling around the halls, and Sven assumed it was another training exercise. As his enormous frame left the room, Sven thought to ask what he should do. Just as he did, Nesrin poked his head back into the room. "Well, let's be off, I can't teach you anything sitting in the dining hall," were Nesrin's words. Sven was elated, though tried hard not to show it, as he knew for certain he would learn his fair share of earth-craft with Nesrin as his tutor.


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## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

The next few days were a blur of activity despite the overwhelming desire to rest. Training continued back at the Tashiri home, training with the other disciples as well as the Hetat himself. Nesrin sparred each and every one of them over the course of the days that passed, showing them their weaknesses and complimenting them their strengths. But as the weeks passed this was not to be the extent of their training, for the disciples had things to learn that Nesrin informed them others were better suited to teach. 

On the twenty second day, Adam awoke to find a note by his door. The next phase of his training was to begin under a Tashiri master named Enariel Y'nan. Adam had heard the name before, the Windwalker was a legend renowned among all the tashiri, a true master of the skies whose wisdom would undoubtedly benefit the young man immensely. 

_Control yourself, you've not seen what kind of man he is._ **** voiced a caution.

'He's a legend. Any wisdom he has to offer, any training he can give, is a boon.' Adam retorted to the voice in his head. Wasting no more time, he set out to where the note instructed him to go. 


In short order he reached where he was supposed to be, high within a tower across the other side of the Talissariat. He knocked upon the door and was met by an almost musical voice prompting him to enter. He entered, and his breath caught as he looked out upon a breathtaking view of the landscape surrounding the area from this immense height. Adam expected wind, but there was nothing. As he took a few steps forward, he reached out a hand, suspecting a powerful crafting at work. 

As he thought, the walls were formed of air. Hardened and contained air, perfectly controlled to form solid walls. 

'And you had doubts ****...' Adam muttered to himself, smiling. 

'Ahem...' The voice drew Adam's attention away from the view, to the chamber and the figure who occupied it. It was a lavishly decorated chamber, befitting of the High Elf who stood at its center. 'Welcome Adam.' The elf continued. 'I understand you wish to learn flight?' 

Adam dropped to one knee and bowed his head to show respect. 'Yes, Master Y'nan, it is my fervent wish to be able to keep up with the others of my craft... I am yours to teach.'


----------



## deathbringer

He flexed his neck, rolling it from side to side, so recently torn tissue stretch for the first time, testing the bonding of old and new. He felt knots in his shoulders, a slight pain as he flexed the thick muscle of his bicep, a slight strain above his right bicep. 

Perhaps sleep had not healed all wounds, though he had slept as if deprived of its warmth for millennia, awoken a man reborn to the smell of a warriors feast. Food and sleep could only do so much, he was aware of that, yet his mind felt primed, a triumphant young cub fresh from his first hunt, in the body of an old timer, grizzled and worn. 

He stretched his arms, the vest covering his muscular torso stretching over the thick muscle as he reached down to the axe loop at his waist, fishing the larger of his two axes, to hold before him blade pointed to the ground as he bowed to his opponent.

The hetat was monstrous, a giant of a man bare chested, the sweat of his previous battles glistening upon his skin, the glorious sheen of the victorious rolling off his muscles, though he seemed unfatigued, the battles before however testing or praiseworthy making him no wearier, just as ready for the next challenge. A slight smile glimmered across the Hetat's face as the matched his greeting, the old custom amusing him even as he returned the gesture, the emotion failing to touch his eyes even as the pair began to circle.

Daruk held low to the ground the battleaxe flittering between both hands with casual grace, the lapsidasical switching of hands at odd with the hungry desire seering in his eyes. It burned deep within him, a unfufilled lust for battle or a longing for acceptance or dominance he could not tell, yet the blood had begun to pound, through his veins, the aches rolling away as he stopped the circle, axe suddenly raised in one hand.

The pair stopped, the hetat's eyebrow raising slightly at the peculiar grip the ponderous axe seeming to teeter backwards in the dwarfs tiny fist. Nesrin's mouth opened to speak, even as Daruk's lip flickered, a lion revealing a single deadly canine as he exploded forward, the axe pinwheeling, whistling through the air as he hefted it towards the hetat's bare ribs.

The axe exploded upon empty air with the sound of a gong inches from the hetat's torso the axe clattering to the ground, the dwarf closing the gap with a loud roar of anger, a single bare hand gripping the pendant at his chest feeling the flames warm his palms the flame furies reaching out too him and he gave second snarl as he threw a fist out towards the broadsword clasped in nesrin's hand. Fire furies reached out,little hands outstretched towards the metal the atoms vibratiing as they strained to reach out to link with the furies.

A grunt from the hetat, the blade clattering to the floor even as Daruk leapt, diving to take the bulky midriff, clasping his arms, momentum sending them both to the floor. He was in control, straddling the hetat fist balling, suddenly he was flying, the momentum rolling him and he felt his back hit the floor, the wind bursting out of him even as the hetat slammed his arms to the ground, fingers in the dirt, he felt the furies and he reached out to them, their strength enfusing with his and he felt the hetat's strength melt away as he wrenched his arm free, the burly chest suddenly exposed, arm thrown wide as he picked his spot, feeling the furies build in his fist, the bones hardening, flesh becoming granite even as he drove a fist deep into his solarplexus.

The hetats body exploded under the impact, body twisting to land on his feet, body crouched, huge frame seeming to unravel even as Daruk sprung to his feet snatching his axe from the ground as he closed in upon the hetat, who raised a hand. 

He felt it rather than saw it, the great blade behind him , out of sight, out of mind, yet he felt the metal coursing towards him, the metal furies of the outer steel baying for blood and he threw himself flat even as the blade whipped over his head, slapping firmly into Nesrin's mighty palm, the hetat upon him even as he regained his footing. Blade cracked against axe haft, swept through empty air as Daruk retreated under pressure, his defence a mixture of agility and strength as he struggled to regain composure, to find an edge to tip the battle. 

A flaming ball of fire fizzled and hissed as it was extinguished by water, a stone fisted strike pushed astray by a gust of air, his blade constantly meeting the great longsword as he strived to find the extra edge, the inch he would need to turn the battle.

Even as he was forced to retreat once more, ducking under a great sweep of the blade, he dropped to the earth, and pulled it forth feeling the earth furies twirl to his touch, retreating a receeding as the ground split before them a great crevice opening between the pair, Daruk kneeling, Nesrin one foot upon empty air as he struggled to maintain his balance.

Quick as a flash the throwing axe was in his hand, his battleaxe discarded, a blade wreathed in flame arcing towards Nesrin's exposed form. He could feel something changing, something of his earth craft was unravelling from the depths of the darkness, from the deepest darkest depths of the earth something was awakening, being pulled forth from the very earth he had made receed.

A great beast leapt forth from the crevice, an ape with arms of granite, sprung from the crater to snatch the axe from the air, landing before him even as he struggled to rise, to react to this new assault. A great fist smashed him backwards, blackness enveloping him momentarily, his mind briefly stunned as he flew through the air. 

Impact with the ground brought him back to consciousness, mind in warrior mode though it reeled drunkenly even as he struggled to regain his feet, only to find a great granite fist clenched around his throat. He was struggling, thrashing barehanded, like a child against his parents, the situation humiliating, his anger boiling as he struggled to free himself from its unshakable grip.

He could see nesrin floating gently across the crevice, his broadsword held lazily at his side as he landed before the pair, eyes filled with pride, the slightest tinge of concern upon his features as he watched the dwarf continue to struggle

"Though you would fight for a millenia master dwarf, you know my duty... I will not be found wanting"

The words in the tongue of his forefathers stopped his struggles eyes wide at the old custom. Even the lightest spar in the depths was fought til concession or death. Nothing however loathsome or foul was beyond limits for our enemies would not be so noble.

With a grim shake of his head the dwarf spoke in his home tongue

"This battle is done. All hail to the champion."

A beaming smile split the Hetat's face a blast of proud sunshine through the cloudst of defeat. The smile stretched wide yet it was the comfort in his eyes that showed him it was more than pride in their battle, in his skill and his valour but something more. A tinge of kindred, equal dedication to their upbringing to the traditions of their kindred so far from home. 

"Champion? No Daruk, not champion. There are those within these halls that would send me to my chambers chastised and mewling like a babe. I am your instructor nothing more, nothing less." 

The booming voice lowered as he leaned in almost conspiratorially his home tongue a welcome breeze upon his ears

" The timing of your strike was excellent. Your earth powers are strong, stronger than mine were I must admit when I was at the level you are now. But I must balance praise with caution, your fiery spirit is one that you must learn to control. Composure in the face of battle is more useful than blind fury."

The voice boomed again even as Daruk bowed his head, eyes lowering, the words sinking deep both praise and advice.

"Well done all the same, a challenging bout that I look to repeat in the future." 
_________________________________________________________

It was odd to think he was bonded to them now... so long he had fought alongside them but not with them, an outsider on the inside. 

Now they felt him, through bonding they accepted him as one, his mind and soul an open book. It was odd at first emotions constantly in the back of his head, a subtle awareness of their presence, of their actions, of their dreams and desires, the sense of oneness melded with a sense of defilement.

He liked his space, liked his own company yet now they were with him whenever and where ever he went, constant companions he could not shake. It was unique, they were a family, not a unit, not a squad, aye they had a head, yet they bunked together, ate together, fought together, days spent in each others company, hours spent battling as one, forms and formations, moves and preferences.

Through battle it became clearer the sensations in his head, becoming more like images, from the centre surrounded by swirling dust and dirt, blinded by particulate and sediment, he could still see the windwalkers striding pushing the beasts towards the deadly maw at their heart.

Night after night they returned home earth sodden and shattered, bodies broken, beds their only desire, fighting til the moment they could fall down as one.

It was comforting to be at one, to learn of the others to feel true togetherness with a unit, devestating as a battlefield piece, a qualm in true harmony, yet nonetheless it suffocated him.

Men and Elves around him at all times, knowing how he felt, perhaps even his secrets, the secrets of his people, those that dwelled below the ground... was it betrayal in its own way... to be so close to those that had once been foes?

He was relieved for a day on their own, his summoning to study at the hand of a Hammerfist, a name of strength, a name of solidarity, a dwarf without doubt. A day in the hands of a dwarven smith more than enough to cleanse his pallet of the claustrophobia that was oozing through his veins.

Even as he strode through the passageways, a spring in his step and the slightest whistle on his lips, he Zacarish at the other end of the corridor. A dark elf with a passion that matched his own, a skilled metal walker and an able swordsman that seemed to revel not in the victory yet in the moment, taken by the sheer chaos of slaughter. A brother of battle and an able ally at the centre of formations yet he could feel the tightness in his shoulders with every step the dark elf took towards him.

Even as the Hammerhand opened the door, impressive frame stripped to the west, jet black hair streaming across burly shoulders he found himself wondering... would he ever be free again.


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## Lord Ramo

While most of his fellow tashiri qualm members retreated to their dorms for the night Robb found sleep to be too evasive. He left the dining hall and wandered the halls of the great fortress home of the tashiri for a while before finally retiring to his bed for sleep. When it eventually came he fell into a complete and deep sleep, no dreams of any kind. He awoke early like normal, getting up even though his muscles still felt a little sore from the constant use. He went to one of the training rooms, and stood there with his blade, practicing his attacking and defensing techniques, flowing seamlessly from one to the next.

He retired after a while to bathe and change into fresh robes before entering into the private dining hall, seeing an eleborate feast had been prepared for the victorious qualm. It stung when he thought of the victory, so many tashiri had lost their lives in the assault. Too many. He slowly sipped his wine as the rest of the Qualm turned up, eating drinking and talking together. Robb sat in silence for a while, just looking around at his fellows. He was glad that they had made it through the storm, glad that they had accomplished their task, their mission. 

He stood after a little while raising his glass "To our fallen brothers. May they rest in peace." He toasted, downing the rest of his glass before leaving the dining hall. It had been a nice feast, one that befitted their victory. However it had been at a cost, and they all needed to remember the cost of victory.
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Over the next few days the qualm practiced together, training hard to become closer, to fight as one. Each of the Qualm had to face off against Nesrin, the leader of the group who inevitably won every bout. Robb fought hard in his bout, using his metal abilities to his finest even though the practice weapons were wooden and not metal. It meant that he wouldn't be able to sense where Nesrin would strike, but he fought his best, his attacks flowing into defence when needed, and Robb didn't give up till Nesrin had him flat on his back, earth powers be damned. Robb rolled to his feet, not enjoying the feeling of losing but understanding why.

As the others fought against Nesrin Robb found himself restless and searching for another opponent. He felt like a caged animal, he needed to practice harder, he needed to be able to protect his qualm members. Walking over to Eldur with a smile he asked simply, "Eldur, I was wondering if you would wish to spar against me? I know I'm at a natural advantage being a metal walker but still would be nice to see what you fight like."

"It will be my pleasure". He replied as he stood and made his way over to grab a wooden spear. Robb followed grabbing a training sword before walking over to take up position opposite from Eldur. "We gonna fight with or without tricks" Eldur asked. Robb was a little surprised by this though he turned to Eldur with a smile. Robb always had his tricks, his skills of a swordsman was one of them, "I won't be using tricks my friend though if you wish to, I won't begrudge you. It will make my victory more satisfying." 

Robb took a defensive stance, allowing his opponent to be the one to make the first move, Eldur questioned his confidence before bowing, Robb replying in kind with his own bow. "Well I wouldn't say confident, more like I'm looking forward to this. Smart use using wood."

Eldur lunged forward, Robb instantly leaping to the left to dodge the incoming attack, though his blade barely deflected the spear. He should have seen the lunge coming, it was a more common use of the spear and he should have known it wouldn't be like a normal sword duel. He was lucky that he had the physical ability to dodge away. Next came a side-sweep. the spear was coming fast. 

Robb righting himself quickly, he twisted left dropping to one knee as he parried with his blade to his right. Managing to block the spear he struck Eldur in the knee with the hilt of his blade, the sudden move Robb had made had knocked Eldur off balance and knocked him over. As his opponent landed on his back whipped his spear forward, connecting with Robb's right shoulder. It was a move that would stop Robb from going for the killing blow, a smart move by his opponent.

Eldur quickly rolled away from Robb, standing up in a fluid motion, placing himself in a ordinary combat stance for a spear fighter. "Well fighting mostly swordsmen, It just seems they are not that happy about surprises." Eldur smiled back at Robb, giving him an acknowleding nod,"Guessing its your turn to attack now."

Robb smiled as he leapt forward to attack, feigning to the left with his blade to draw his opponents attention, before at the last second, whipping his blade into his other hand and attempting to slash across his opponents chest. He loved the thrill of the challenge, and this would be a nice challenge for him. He rarely fought spearman, and had been hit by one even less.. Eldur attempted to intercept Robb's attack, though frustratingly seemed ready for the feint.

Eldur was bringing his spear up, spinning in the process with his spear ready to hit him, though he hadn't seen Robb's next attack, something which Robb relished greatly. Robb leapt forward, shoulder barging into his opponents side and lifting him up into the air before slamming him into the ground. Quickly Robb was over his opponent, sword pointed down on him, even as his foot stood on his opponents weapon. Slowly with open hand, Eldur brought his left hand up to Robb's sword. The smell of burned wood filling the air. Eldur put a message on the sword "I Yield". Robb had to lift his blade to read it, and did it slowly in case his opponent had any surprises for him. Smiling at the message Robb offered his hand to the downed Tashiri, "Very creative friend."

Eldur accepted the offered hand, wincing a little from the pain in his side as he stood up, Robb feeling sorry for his qualm member at the pain he had caused him. "Aye I enjoyed the fight immensely, I still have a lot to learn, hope you will teach me some of it Robb."

Robb nodded simply at this, watching Nesrin walk past who gave them both a nodded head, all the praise they would get, not that they needed any.
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During the time of training Robb found himself lacking without his shield, the damn thing melting in the battle against the queen. He had repaired his chainmail armour, the links being expertly repaired by him, his hands flowing over the metal as he worked. He was glad he still had his armour and Fang, though he would need something else as well to better fight the enemy.

After one particular training situation Robb got so frustrated with his performance with only one blade once the others headed to bed he headed to the forge. He worked tirelessly, shaping a lump of steel into something beautiful. He made a short sword, slightly smaller than fang, something he could use in more confined spaces. "Claw" is what he decided to call it, something which Terros found immensely amusing, his blades named after Terros' own weapons that he used to tear his opponents limb from limb.

One morning he awoke early, having been summouned to Mistress Alana Frendel, in one of the many gardens. He felt nervous as he was attempting to learn a new power, a new set of powers. He was branching away from things that were familiar to him. He arrived as the note from Nesrin instructed him to find her by one of the large ponds, her beauty startling Robb. He had expected an old wise woman but instead he was greeted with her flowing straw colored hair catching the light in a way that makes it seem to shine, her pale skin glistening in the rays of the sun that filter in through the large windows. Instead of the pants and shirt typical to most Tashiri, she wears a flowing gown of the same fabric, around her waist a sash of deep ebony trimmed in gold, marking her station as a Tashiri Master. 

Her expression was stern as Robb respectfully approached her, nervous but walking to her confidently. He would not be put off, he was here to learn and would not be paralyzed by nerves. "What would bring one such as you, someone born to heat and metal and war, to learn from me?"

He pondered her question for a moment, watching the water ripple for a moment, "That is precisely why I am here Ma'am. I was born to metal and war, but I know that this is not the only path to follow. I have witnessed the power and beauty water has, different to metal walking. I come here to learn, to learn how best to help my comrades, how to protect them and not just in the ways of killing my opponents."


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## Midge913

*Update #25*

All: Despite the fact that five months have passed since you and your Qalm returned from the Great Desert, the time has passed more quickly than you would have thought. Each of you training, diligently, under the masters that you were assigned to by Nesrin. When you think of the man, it is mostly to reflect upon the fact that you have barely seen him over the course of that time, save Sven who is training with him, the only time that you are able to pin him down is during the nightly meal, a substantial supper at the giant's request, that he insists you all spend together. The wood elves Aalrik and Fae'en the only conspicuous absences from the nightly family gathering. During those times you find that you are content. Good food and good companionship ending out the days of endless training and exersises. 

Sol (Angel of Blood): The last several months with Hetat Aleanatin have been most productive for you. You can now call your Manifest fury, a beautiful flaming phoenix, with ease. Its speed in the air and vicious beak and claws a complement to your whirlwind fighting style. However this is not the only change that has been wrought over the last several weeks. Unlike your training from before, as an apprentice, there is more theory discussed about a particular working than there ever was and despite your more impatient and hot headed nature, you have found yourself engaged in conversations with Hetat Aleanatin that have lasted well into the wee hours of the morning. You feel that you have a greater sense of how to relate to the furies that come to your beck and call and to your great pride you feel that your control over them has increased much more than just in the aspect of making one manifest. It is with mixed feelings that you leave Aleanatin's dormitory after his final proclamation that you are ready to use the new skill that you have acquired. You feel that you have made a friend over the course of the time you spent together and you couldn't help but notice that Aleanatin seems to have come to terms with his grief, something that by the small smile and gentle hand on your shoulder as he bids you farewell you feel that you may have helped with in some small way. Take a moment to reflect on the last several months. You can feel an anxious energy in the hallway beyond the door to your rooms. As other members of your Qalm enter into the dormitories, there is almost an air of anticipation. A palpable feeling that this period of relatively calm study is coming to an end. 

Eldur (Anilar): Being back under the tutelage of Mirran has been both a blessing and a curse for you. You have learned much, but the training in and of itself has been the most grueling you have ever undertaken. It took three out of the last five months for you to master the steps of the Kallimatar, each movement one that Mirran demanded be precise, before he would even discuss the new techniques that you wished to learn. Even in light of this, months later, several new abilities under you belt you find that as it was in the desert, so it was here. With great trials, come great rewards. You find yourself in Mirran's antechamber, alone for the moment, you walk the steps of the Kallimatar, each footstep in time with your breathing, each movement of your arms flowing freely, emulating living fire. Though your eyes remain closed you know where to move and the air around you begins to warm. You can feel the furies, especially Kebakaran, as they swirl and swim in the rolling heat around you, the steps of your exercises heightening your control. As you bring the exercise to a close, the heat rising away, you sense that you are not alone. Eyes snapping open, you see that Mirran has entered from the main door, a smile plastered on his face, pride beaming from his posture and gaze. Just as he did upon your return from the desert he did not draw out his sentiments, "You have learned well once more young one. The skills that you came to learn have been learned, but remember that they take a lifetime to master." Grabbing you by your shoulder he leads you from his rooms back out into the hallway, "Go, your Qalm will have need of you shortly." You do as he asks, looking back only once as you move to obey. You return to your room, reflections on the last several months fresh in your mind. You can feel an anxious energy in the hallway beyond the door to your rooms. As other members of your Qalm enter into the dormitories, there is almost an air of anticipation. A palpable feeling that this period of relatively calm study is coming to an end.

Isira (Jackinator): Your time with Master Getmin has been one of the most pleasurable experiences of your life. The bumbling master, though brilliant when it comes to weather and its control, is quite deficient in other areas, like social interaction. He is clumsy and has a small stutter when he is nervous but over the last several months you have really come to like the old man. He has a wonderful sense of humor when he relaxes and he can spin a tale like none other when the mood takes him. Many of your sessions with him have seen you holding your sides, muscles tight and painful from laughing at his rendition of some ancient tale or another. Personal interaction aside, Getmin is a genius when it comes to his craft and you can see how he came to rise to the rank of Master. Not only have you now master the Tempest ability, but the theory that you have learned from Getmin has opened your eyes to the grandeur of weather control on the whole. It is with mixed emotions that you end your time with Getmin, you have enjoyed your time here so much, as well as whatever time you have spent with your Qalm, that you don't want to see it come to an end. You cant help but smile at the old man as he presents you with a small storm cloud contained in a glass, similar to the one you saw when you first entered his rooms, as he ushers you out the door saying, "Go lass, your Qalm will have need of you soon." You do as he asks, looking back only once as you move to obey. You return to your room, reflections on the last several months fresh in your mind. You can feel an anxious energy in the hallway beyond the door to your rooms. As other members of your Qalm enter into the dormitories, there is almost an air of anticipation. A palpable feeling that this period of relatively calm study is coming to an end.

Zacarish (Santaire): Your training with Master Hammerfist was uneventful. There was little that you and the stalwart dwarf held in common save your craft. You are not sure why it seemed that you and Hammer fist could not connect on a deeper level as you witnessed him and Daruk do, but it had little effect on your training. You learned what you came to learn, but little else, other than a few helpful shortcuts at working at the forge. Returning to your room, reflections on the last several months fresh in your mind. You can feel an anxious energy in the hallway beyond the door to your rooms. As other members of your Qalm enter into the dormitories, there is almost an air of anticipation. A palpable feeling that this period of relatively calm study is coming to an end.

Sven (Therizza): Your time with Nesrin has been enjoyable, but far more difficult than you had imagined. The huge man demanding quite a bit from you, so much in fact that even your hearty Dwarven constitution has had a hard time keeping up. Each night you have fallen into your bed, tired, but satisfied with what you accomplished each day and heartened by the praise that your Hetat has given you as you progress onward in your skills. You find yourself in the middle of the dormitories training hall, your stone form firmly in place on during this early morning training session. It doesn't matter what he throws at you, bolts of fire, blasts of air, entangling vines, all splatter off your hardened skin, causing naught but a little discomfort. It has taken you months, cuts, bruises, burns, and even a broken limb, but you have finally mastered the form of total protection stone form provides. Ceasing his attack and indicating that you should drop the Stone Form, Nesrin says to you, "Well done Sven, just remember that your ability to move is lessened by the form, take that into account when you use it." Smiling down at you he finishes, "Go clean yourself up and get a bit of rest. I will be calling to the Qalm shortly." Returning to your room, reflections on the last several months fresh in your mind. You can feel an anxious energy in the hallway beyond the door to your rooms. As other members of your Qalm enter into the dormitories, there is almost an air of anticipation. A palpable feeling that this period of relatively calm study is coming to an end.

Adam (Serpion5):These last months have been one of change for you. Despite your desire the gift of flight comes slowly to you. What does surprise you is Master Y'nan's patience with the difficulties that you experienced. Ever day, for the first few weeks, you and Y'nan would sit in his rooms, eyes cast out into the skies beyond the Talissariat, a cup of strong Yavano tea in front of you in quiet conversation and guided meditation designed to free your mind from earthly constraints. Surprising to you, but not to Master Y'nan, your skills with veils and invisibility seem to be what hinders you, for the techniques involved are so vastly different. However, as the weeks progress, you go from performing long high leaps, to momentary levitation, to soaring glides in the training fields outside the Talissariat. however after almost 3 months of work with the master, you still haven't been able to attain true flight and your spirits start to drop. It took the shock of being tossed from the heigth of Master Y'nan's rooms, a blast of air taking you from your feet as you walked in for your daily session. As you plummeted from the tower, the sound of Master Y'nan's robes flapping in the air just behind you, it is finally **** that spurs you to let go of your inhibitions and fly. Terror turns to joy as you soar across the mighty Temple of the Tashiri. The last few weeks under Y'nan's tutelage sees your skills refined. With very few words, on what turns out to be your last day of training, Y'nan turns to you and simply says, "The rest is up to you to master. Go, your Qalm needs you." Returning to your room, reflections on the last several months fresh in your mind. You can feel an anxious energy in the hallway beyond the door to your rooms. As other members of your Qalm enter into the dormitories, there is almost an air of anticipation. A palpable feeling that this period of relatively calm study is coming to an end.

Daruk (deathbringer): Most of your study under Master Hammerhand has had little to do with fury work. This time has seen you put to work in front of the forge, while it is something that you are comfortable with, it sometimes feels like you are missing what you should be learning from him, which is a bit frustrating. You watch as Zacarish methodically learns the new skills that he has come to Hammerhand for, while it seems that he simply wants to talk to you of home and simply share the work in the forge. You are surprised to learn that Hammerhand is the last remaining member of the Oathbearer clan, an ancient clan amongst the Deep Dwarves that fell to the Nagash, a rodent like race that haunt the deep realms, almost 400 years ago. As you work the forge, you listen as Hammerhand tells you stories of old, triumphs and failures of your ancestors. Your limbs already thick with muscle, become even more so and you can tell that your skill in making armor and blade has become much more formidable. It is four months into your training and even though it has been enjoyable, you lose your temper in the midst of Hammerhand recounting a ballad of one of his ancestors, a song you have heard before, but at this point can enjoy, you toss down your tools, frustrated as you watch Zacarish manipulate metal into the form of a chained whip. Though you remain silent, Hammerhand approaches you a knowing look in his eyes as if he reads your mind. "So you think that I have taught you nothing but swinging a hammer and a bit of history," he is not mad, quite the opposite, "Close your eyes Daruk and tell me what you feel." Doing as he asks you almost gasp at what you feel. All around you the steel and iron ore takes on a life of their own, furies swirling from piece to piece. Hammerhand grunts at your amazed expression, "Furies are like a good woman boy." He winks, "You have to get to know them a bit, share a few tales and some time together before you can feel for them." He goes back to singing, his voice keeping time with his hammer blows, sparks flying around him. You recover quickly, your new senses alive with power, as your hammer and voice join his. One morning you show up in the forge, arriving before Zacarish, your desire to work in the forge heightened by your new found sense of the pieces you work. Hammerhand stops you as you begin to put on your apron, "Not today lad, but perhaps someday soon. Today your Qalm needs you." Returning to your room, reflections on the last several months fresh in your mind. You can feel an anxious energy in the hallway beyond the door to your rooms. As other members of your Qalm enter into the dormitories, there is almost an air of anticipation. A palpable feeling that this period of relatively calm study is coming to an end.

Robb (Lord Ramo): Your training with Mistress Frendel has been an interesting one. Unlike other water walkers you have known, she keeps her emotions nuetral, showing little save a small smile if pleased or a slight frown if not. For the first few weeks you found it disconcerting that she offered little praise and little criticism, simply watching you try and perform the exercises she has set for you with a critical eye. Despite your early failures, you never see her lose her patience, calmly explaining what you have done wrong and encouraging you to try once again. You have a hard time grasping the feel of water, its fluid nature and required mental discipline very different from that of Metal. However, under Frendel's direction, about 3 months into your training you are able to finally feel the furies that course through the small stream in your training room. You make progress rapidly after that, contact with the furies themselves leading to greater improvement in your control. It is on what is to be your last day that you stand inside a dense cloud of fog, conjured from nothingness in an instant, your control of the technique finally mastered. You can feel Frendel move into the cloud, dissipating it with a wave of her hand, "You have done well Robb. I am surprised that you were able to turn your focus to the skills of Water, but it is a pleasant surprise. Perhaps we shall see each other again, and of course you are free to visit me at anytime, but you must go, your Qalm will have need of you soon." Returning to your room, reflections on the last several months fresh in your mind. You can feel an anxious energy in the hallway beyond the door to your rooms. As other members of your Qalm enter into the dormitories, there is almost an air of anticipation. A palpable feeling that this period of relatively calm study is coming to an end.

Gangdogar (Malochai): The training in your new abilites started off with a shock when you were told to report to Hetat Glion Rockfist. You grew up hearing about your great great great uncle on your mother's side, a Dwarf held up as a shining example of the warrior blood of your clan. He cuts you little slack, grumbling about how the blood of his clan must have thinned over the years, how you learn slower than you should, and that you thump around with your earth powers like a blind giant mole-rat. You however, don't fail to notice the smile that touches his eyes and tweeks the corners of his mouth as he grumbles and you know that he is just pushing you to work ever harder. You learn much from him about melding both flame and stone, but it is the history of your clan that interests you so much. Even thought he places supreme importance in the learning of the skills you will use in battle, he also tells you many tales of times long gone, sharing with you a pipe full of Kazelim Tabac and a mug full of hearty ale. You are awed with the fact that one of your ancestors, a living monument of your families history is so close at hand and over the 5 months that you train with him you learn much about where you came from and the strength of your bloodline in addition to the mastery of the new skills you came to learn from him. It is on what is to be the last day of your training that Glion stops you in the middle of an earth crafting, a simple logic puzzle of moving earth that he taught you to sharpen your focus, and says, "Well lad, our time has come to an end. I have enjoyed working with you and it is a relief that the blood of our Clan has remained strong." He presses a ring, heavy and iron, into your palm, "Remember where you come from lad." With a heavy sigh he all but pushes you out the door of his quarters, "Go now, your Qalm will have need of you soon." It isn't until you return to your room that you look down and see that the ring, obviously ancient, bears the crest of your clan. Reflections on the last several months fresh in your mind but you can feel an anxious energy in the hallway beyond the door to your rooms. As other members of your Qalm enter into the dormitories, there is almost an air of anticipation. A palpable feeling that this period of relatively calm study is coming to an end.

Fae'en (Firedamaged): You spent the entirety of your training in the great forest that rings the floating temple of the Tashiri under the careful eye of the legendary, yet elusive, Gatekeeper. Despite the formality that his title, not to mention responsibilities of managing the first line of defense should the Talissariat be assaulted, Nevar, the Gatekeepers given name, is a personable elf, treating his charges as favorite grandchildren. It has been a wonderful experience for you to train side by side with Aalrik, your Qalm's other Wood Elf, as Nevar instructs you in everything from archery to herbalism, history and myth. As a wood walker you have never seen his equal. It is almost as if the elf speaks with the trees around you. However, a new-found closeness to Aalrik and to your heritage as a Wood Elf is not all you learn. As Aalrik learns to master several new minor abilities, you have taken on the task of finding a fury so bonded to you that it will manifest. It take almost the entire five months, but finally you are able to get your new fury, Kikazaru to manifest. Its playful new presence one that you immediately identify with and come to wonder how you ever lived with out. It is on the last day of your training that Nevar comes to you sadness mixed with pride in his expression. He speaks to both you and Aalrik, "You have learned well, I hope that you will not be strangers to this forest in the future. Now you must go, your Qalm will have need of you soon." Returning to your room, reflections on the last several months fresh in your mind. You can feel an anxious energy in the hallway beyond the door to your rooms. As other members of your Qalm enter into the dormitories, there is almost an air of anticipation. A palpable feeling that this period of relatively calm study is coming to an end.

Kaeldor (revan4559): Your training was one of trial and tribulation. Having reported to the Master Swordsman Humeric Bassal, a human solider without peer, you found that your opinion of your own abilities greatly exaggerated. Bassal is the epitome of the martial personality, drilling you in sword forms and basic Metal craftings as if you had just arrived in the temple for your apprenticeship. Each day that passes in the first few weeks find you battered and bruised from sparring, passing out from exhaustion into your bed after tucking into a meal with your Qalm. It is as if during this time Master Bassal is looking to see if you will complain, quit, or show weakness. None of which you do, pressing forward to the point that you feel your body almost unable to function. 3 months of this pass, but you can feel your endurance, already substantial as a metal walker, growing. The strength in your arm and the amount of energy you can draw from the metal furies in your weapons and armor almost doubling. It is in the middle of the third month that Bassal enters into the training room, his demeanor completely different, a smile on his face. He is dressed in simple ivory robes, an ebony sash trimmed in gold the only adornment. He bids you, kindly to lay down your weapons and armor. From that point on your training sessions were easier, more enjoyable, seemingly you managed to impress Master Bassal with your determination. Two months later you find that you have mastered the new skills that you were sent to Bassal to learn. Not only that but you have learned much about your own fortitude and abilities. On your last day, you anticipated the command to remove your armor and weapons, but it did not come. You entered the training room, Bassal once more adorned in resplendent armor, his longsword strapped to his back. "For the skills you wished to learn," he begins, "You have no more need of my instruction. Go soldier, your Qalm will have need of you shortly." As you turn to leave the room you hear him say, almost under his breath,"You are welcome in my halls any time Kaeldor, fight well." Returning to your room, reflections on the last several months fresh in your mind. You can feel an anxious energy in the hallway beyond the door to your rooms. As other members of your Qalm enter into the dormitories, there is almost an air of anticipation. A palpable feeling that this period of relatively calm study is coming to an end.

All: Your thoughts are interrupted as a presence flares across the bond shortly followed by Nesrin's voice ringing in your head," Assemble my warriors. We must make haste to our next assignment. I expect you armed and equipped for a journey in ten minutes. Meet on Landing 9. I will explain there."


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

Master Y'nan was a master of the Wind furies in a way that only a fellow windwalker could understand. During the first few days his power became painfully obvious to Adam as he revised what the young man was capable of in comparison to where he wanted his skills to be. Y'nan taught him the finer aspects of the Furies true nature, lessons that **** took as much interest in as Adam despite herself. As the early days passed, Adam could see what he needed to do. The specifics of these skillsets however seemed frustratingly difficult to master. In the first few weeks, Y'nan seemed focused on teaching Adam the mental disciplines required, lessons that thought tedious Adam committed himself to wholeheartedly. 

Within the month Adam had begun to attempt real flight. **** was a voice of encouragement during these times, a counter to Y'nan's more realistic critiques and advice. Progress came at a painstakingly slow pace much to the young man's chagrin. During one of the more trying days, Adam elected to spend the night in the open courtyard rather than his room. 

_You are frustrated? Angry at yourself?_ **** spoke up, interrupting the silence. A light breeze cropped up and Adam took a breath before he decided to answer her. 

'I am.' He said. 'I had learned the other skills at a far quicker pace. Why I struggle with this one I do not know.' He focused his power and levitated a few feet above the ground. This at least he could do, even if only for a short while. He raised himself to the top of a nearby tree just before his focus gave out and he balanced there with the practiced ease of a windwalker. 

_Your wings are still closed._ Was her answer. _You cannot fly unless you open them._

'That doesn't help.' Adam growled. The breeze grew into a stronger wind but Adam held his balance still. 

_A hawkling must be pushed from the nest before she learns to fly._ **** continued. 

'You're a tulpa and a fury.' Adam hissed. 'You'd never faced that problem.' By now the wind was almost a vicious gale. Despite the tree rocking violently beneath him Adam still held firm and true. 

_Calm yourself!_ The hawk cried. _Your anger is damaging the area!_ With a snap to attention Adam realized that the increasing wind had been his own ability running rampant. He reached out and calmed the air, looking around and hoping no other had seen him so close to losing control. He took several deep breaths and focused again, trying to fly to the ground but managing no more than a steady glide. He shook his head and punched the ground in frustration before settling down beneath the tree and resting... 

* * *

More time passed, weeks, months. Yet still the young windwalker had made little progress. A few days shy of three months into his training, he sat with Master Y'nan once the day's lesson was over and asked to talk. 

'This is starting to frustrate me.' He began 'Months now, it's been months Master! Even learning to hide myself from sight did not take me this long. Those skills were so... Easy! Compared to this, this seems more and more... impossible.'

Y'nan met his eyes and answered. 'Nothing is impossible Adam.' His voice was stern but understanding. 'This will come to you in the same manner as your other skills. It will just take time and patience.' 

_He speaks wisdom._ **** interjected. _You haven't done what I told you was needed._ Adam repressed an annoyed growl and ignored her. 

'I know, I can see my progress.' Adam replied to the elder elf. 'It just seems to have slowed down so much, and I fear I may have reached a plateau. Maybe this is as far as I'm going to get.' 

_You haven't spread your wings!_ **** interrupted his thoughts again. Adam growled in frustration at her words, trying not to appear foolish as what she spoke could not be heard by the Master, only himself. 

'Enough young warrior!' Y'nan silenced the negativity. 'No Tashiri Aria has ever failed to learn to fly. You will be no different. All that needs to happen is to find the way to train you. So tell me, What was your first power to develop?' 

'Speed I suppose.' Adam answered, thinking back. 'Because I needed it to. I was forced to live as a thief from a young age until the Temple found me. By that time my wind abilities were detectable and I'd already developed the ability to heighten my agility and footspeed. But there was a primal drive behind that, I was running for my survival. Not just because it was a skill I wanted to learn.' 

'And Invisibility? How did you master that technique?' Y'nan continued to probe.

'Much the same way. In the instances where I couldn't run, I was forced to hide. I willed the air to hide me, and over time it did. Again, that was a skill already half learned when I came here.' 

Y'nan nodded. His eyes seemed to bore into Adam's, as though looking at something that was being hidden. He nodded again after a few minutes of thought before giving the young pupil his thoughts. 'Regardless of your doubts young one, I have no doubt that you will learn this skill. I think I may have a way. Leave me for the day, I have preparations to make.' 

'As you wish. I thank you as always for your patience.' Adam replied with a bow, wondering if Y'nan felt as much frustration here as Adam did himself. 

'I would not be much of an instructor Adam if I had no patience.' Y'nan said to Adam's leaving form, as though he had read the young windwalker's thoughts. 'Worry not, the block is simply like any other obstacle in life. You have one of several options. The first of which is to quit, and I daresay you should avoid that one. So if you are not going to quit, you must either go over it, around it, or through it.' He paused as Adam turned to meet his gaze for the final time that day. 'I will see you on the morrow. At first light if you please, we will have much to accomplish.' 

Adam simply nodded to this and left. 

* * *

'What could he mean?' Adam asked. 'He has a method?' 

_Probably some technique you haven't considered yet._ **** replied. As the young disciple approached the door he wracked his brain but was unable to think of anything. He knocked on the door and moments later entered. He took a look around the chamber, but was unable to see any sign of Master Y'nan. 

'I wonder where he -' Adam's thought was interrupted by a sudden blast of air that threw him off balance. His fear grew as he sensed the manipulations of the air currents around him. The walls shimmered enough to allow passage and the blast that had taken hold of him hurled him through the gap. He was released, left to plummet the long distance to the ground below. 

The flapping of fabric sounded in his ears and he managed to turn just enough to glimpse Y'nan a short distance above, following him down. Their eyes met for the briefest of moments, just enough for Adam to glean what Y'nan had planned. This was it, he would either fly or his training would be at an end. He spread his arms to try and arrest his fall slightly and give himself more time to focus. 

_Spread your wings!_ **** called. 

'You may not have noticed, but I don't have wings!' Adam hissed. 'So unless you have something helpful to add, shut up!' 

He drove his will as deeply as he could, his focus competing with his rapid heartbeat for the center of his attention. He could feel the energy of the air furies coursing through him, the subtle manipulations that allowed him to be light on his feet or hide himself from sight. Why wouldn't they let him fly?

_It's a metaphor you dolt!_ **** screeched. _You cannot wield the energies around yourself anymore! You have to let them flow through you, become not with the air, but of the air! _

'I...' Adam stopped as he realized what **** was saying. Not to make the air lift him but rather to make himself the same as air. To align himself with the same energy. 'I understand now...' 

_So..._ **** continued. _Spread..._ 

Adam focused anew, letting his mind attune with the same patterns he commanded the air to take when he summoned whirlwinds and a veil of invisibility. 

_Your..._ 

He attuned his own mental output to that of a flowing wind and drew it back within himself, becoming as the air itself when its rage was evoked. 

_WINGS!_

Moments before impact, the energy peaked and Adam came to an abrupt halt mere meters from the ground before rising back up. He kept going, noting the sheer difference in the levels and type of focus required for this new craft. A smile came with little difficulty to his face as he looked out across the landscape below before he finally came to lock eyes with Master Y'nan. 

'Very clever Master. Thank you.' 

At that moment, **** emitted a loud cry and triumph and manifested nearby, joining the duo in flight. 

_And thank you as well ****. My apologies for not heeding your words sooner._

* * *

The training continued for a few more weeks, during which time Y'nan assisted Adam in refining his new skill as well as his existing ones. On what was to become the last day, Y'nan turned to Adam and said. 'The rest is up to you to master. Go, your Qualm needs you.'

Taking his leave with gratitude, Adam took to the air and returned back to where the others would meet. He entered his room via the window from outside, revising everything he had learned and noting the palpable aura of anticipation coming from the others nearby. 

Something is up. **** said. 

'I agree.' Adam nodded. 'I think our vacation is over.'


----------



## Firedamaged

Fae'en awoke with a start. He rolled to the left and tumbled with a small yelp as his body was no longer supported by any tangible surface. Landing clumsily on all fours, he pushed off with his hands and feet and cracked his head on a hard, wooden side-table. Standing, slightly dazed and mightily out of sorts, he assessed his surroundings.

_Bed, table, chest, wardrobe... walls all wood? Floating castle has stone room..._

A barely suppressed chuckle caused Fae'en to swing around to face the door. A giant of a Wood-Elf stood half in the doorway, his hand poised to knock on the frame and a smile playing at his features. Nevar.

"Food's ready. Better hurry if you want some."

Still slightly groggy, Fae'en grabbed his discarded clothes scattered about the room and followed the retreating back of Nevar, Gatekeeper of the Tashiri, and his mentor for the next few weeks. This was his house, Fae'en remembered, in the woods suspended on the giant floating rock that housed the Tashiri Order. It was good to be amongst the trees again. He made it to the kitchen, a simple affair consisting of a table, chairs, a stove and several cupboards. Aalrik was already there this morning and Fae'en grunted in greeting. He liked this as well, much more than the communal Mess Hall of the Order, no crowds of people, no sea of noise or smells, just the three of them. 

"How's the head?"

Fae'en looked around to find Nevar holding a steaming plate of meat cuts and vegetables out to him. "Fine," he muttered before taking the tray, "thanks." 

"You are welcome." Nevar responded before assembling his own plate. They sat and joined Aalrik at the table. He waited until they were all finished before speaking again. "Today we will begin your fury-crafting training, we will still continue with your regular training in the mornings, but after noon-meals we shall focus purely on your connections to the furies."

So it was. Fae'en trained under the caring gaze of Nevar and was daily awed and impressed in equal measure, not only by the elf's abilities, but by his compassion as well. Fae'en felt less like a student and more like a beloved offspring in greater proportion each passing day. It was not just his relationship with his mentor that improved over the course of his training, but that which he felt with the furies surrounding him developed in leaps and bounds as well. By the end of the third week of his time with the other two wood-elves, Fae'en had connected well enough with one of the myriad of furies around them that it began to manifest itself before his very eyes.

He and Aalrik were sharing a drink of water during a rest period, they were laughing, just joking around when it happened. A low creaking-cracking sound drew their attention downwards to see wood growing at a rapid pace, flowing and forming itself into a vague simian-like shape. Moss grew like fur over the being's surface as it's limbs took form, fingers and toes sprouting from their ends. A tail sprouted as the face took shape, small and grinning mischievously with glowing green eyes. It looked up at the two of them before leaping onto Fae'en's arm and clambering up to sit on his shoulder. 

"Congratulations." The voice drifted out from the surrounding trees and made the two jump, so focussed were they on their new companion. The Gatekeeper stepped out from the shadow of a great elm and smiled at the pair. "Fae'en, your after-noon training will be centred around working with your new manifest. Now, seeing that the excitement is over, I guess it's time to get back to work. Fetch your bows and come to the target range."

A week later their time amongst the trees of the Talissariat came to an end, Aalrik and Fae'en had to return to the keep and their Qalm. It was with almost tearful goodbyes that the pair parted ways with the Gatekeeper, having been given a standing offer to return at any time. Fae'en swore he would do so at the earliest opportunity, after also promising to keep his manifest fury, Kikazaru, out of trouble as much he could. The wooden monkey gave him a playful swat to the back of the head with his tail for the comment and the group grinned. Fae'en had been encouraged to keep him around as much as possible to help with his training and to keep the two acclimatised to each other and he was honestly surprised at how he ever lived without the companionship before they'd come together. 

It was with great regret that they left the forrest and returned to the Talissariat proper. Less than half an hour and already Fae'en was uncomfortable among the number of people confined within its walls. He made his way to 'his' room. In all honesty the stone-carved sleeping quarters had never felt as much his as the room in Nevar's house had. As he set about rearranging his living-space a peculiar feeling stole over the elf, a sense of anticipation began to stir within him. He paused in the act of standing the bed up against the back wall, his sheets having already been assembled into his preferred 'nest' in the corner by the armoire, and called Kikazaru to manifest himself. The green spider-monkey appeared and quickly assumed his place on Fae'en's shoulder.

"Feel that, Kika?" he asked the fury as it picked at something in his hair.

The monkey shrugged before whispering conspiratorially; "Grass is nervous."

"Huh?" Fae'en grunted in confusion.

"Thinks we're talking about it." Kikazaru continued.

"You are. What has that to do with this feeling?" Fae'en pointed out.

The fury shrugged again, "Don't know, ask others."

Fae'en shuddered, "Too many people. Passed over twenty just getting here."

Kikazaru turned his green eyes to look into Fae'en's own as he answered. "Good to be among your own kind."

"Aren't my kind... only a few of them." Came the terse reply.

"Know what I mean." Kikazaru frowned, the knotted whorls of his bark brows furrowing together.

"Alright," the elf sighed, propping the bed securely into the corner of the room opposite his sleeping nest. That done, he squared his shoulders and prepared to face the company of others when a familiar voice echoed through his head. Nesrin had summoned them, they had a mission.

Hurriedly donning his armour over the traditional Tashiri combat clothes, Fae'en grabbed his crossbow and quarrel from the armoire before giving one last glance around the room. "Just got it how I like it," he muttered, knowing full well it would once again be 'tidied' upon his return, and left for landing 9. His Qalm would be assembling there. His pack. His kind.

Kikazaru followed snickering, having stopped to scratch a rude drawing on the surface of the wooden door.


----------



## Therizza

Sven was eager to begin his new training and leapt to his feet, following Nesrin down the hallway. The hetat said nothing, and Sven kept reverentially silent as he followed the giant of a man to a side room. The floor was stone, as were the walls. Lit by a skylight, it seemed to be a training room of sorts. "Do you know where we are, Sven Ironson?"

"I cannot say, Nesrin. It is solid granite, that much I can sense."

"True, Sven, but this is where we will grow your connection to the earth. It is here where we shall hone your skills. You will be tested." Nesrin spoke, and as he did, Sven could feel something changing in the man. In the blink of an eye, Nesrin's skin had turned grey. "I want you to hit me as hard as you can, Sven. Do not hold back."

Sven snorted, as it was obviously a test. "Are you sure Nesrin? I do not wish to injure you."

The hetat looked at Sven, telling him to hold nothing back. Shrugging his shoulders, Sven took his fighting stance and delivered a solid right hand to Nesrin's stomach. Though he had the enhanced strength and fortitude of his earth craft, Sven crumpled to the ground in pain, though Nesrin acted as though nothing had happened.

Nesrin paced past Sven, nodding his head. "Now you see the power of stone form. Your strike was true, swift, powerful. It may well have killed a lesser man. Surely many Vicery fell to that same strike. But sometimes the best offense, is defense. If your enemy had broken themselves on you, they can no longer threaten you, yes? You will need to harness the power of stone form to endure enemies more powerful and swift than you! That is all for training today. Return tomorrow, to this chamber."

That night, Sven ate lightly. He had thought to speak with Aalrik, but could not find him at the table. He kept shaking and tensing his hand, hoping that he had not broken it. The next day, Sven awoke early and went to the training chamber. Nesrin was not there yet, so he began drilling on his own. Beginning with a footwork drill, Sven practiced his stone fist technique. Meditating in the room as he awaited Nesrin's arrival, Sven was startled to find the hetat standing behind him. 

"Your technique is good, as is your stone fist. You drop your left hand too much when you throw a kick though!"

"How long have you been here? I thought I was alone! Forgive me for beginning without you, I should know better."

Nesrin calmed the dwarf, explaining that he had melded into a nearby wall, as a test of Sven's ability to detect him. The rest of the session consisted of Nesrin instructing Sven in the stone form technique. Drawing on his fury craft, Sven became one with the stone. Though he found it difficult to move at first, Nesrin said not to fight the earth, but to become one with it. That notion slowly sank into Sven's demeanor as the weeks progressed into months. The daily routine, the gaining of knowledge from the hetat and the nightly meals were welcomed. 

...

Sven was several meters off of the floor. Nesrin had drawn from the granite floor several floating boulders, instructing Sven to ascend the floating staircase. Though this would be a simple task otherwise, Sven had to maintain his stone form throughout. Shouting up to Sven, Nesrin spoke. "Good, Sven! See how, despite your elevation, the boulders serve as anchors to the earth below. Focus!" Sven leapt to the final boulder, but over thought the jump. His footing slipped and in his tumble, he lost his stone form, crashing to the ground. Shouting in pain, he grasped his arm. It was broken, quite badly. Nesrin stopped the training session. "Go to the infirmary, we will continue this tomorrow."

Sven did as he was asked, and his arm was put in a splint. Though the healers were skilled, it would take time for such a harsh break to heal. Sven was resolute, eating heartily that night, and sleeping well. The next day, he tested his arm, and thinking to impress Nesrin, he focused on maintaining stone form only within the broken limb. Nesrin seemed impressed, and seeing the concentration it took, training went in a different direction. "We are nearing the end of your training. I had thought the arm would hinder you, though I think it will only attest to your grit. Your final test will be a gauntlet. You will be challenged, but take solace that at the very worst, you will not die. Follow me."

The hetat created an archway into another chamber. It was the main training hall, and following Nesrin inside, Sven could see other fury craft masters within. "Your final test was as such; whilst overcoming an obstacle course, you will be assaulted by fire, air and wood. Maintain your stone form, and you will not perish!" The hetat stood to the side, and Sven saw the fury crafters channeling their powers. Donning his stone form, Sven began towards the first obstacle. Scaling the wall, a bolt of fire hit him with full force. The attack was vicious, though his form protected him. Sven mounted the second obstacle, a narrow raised balance bar. Battered by gale force winds, courtesy of his fury crafting tester, Sven slowly made his way down the bar, rooting each step to the bar while maintaining the stone form. The final obstacle was a series of swinging logs. Sven made his way swiftly past each, though his legs were harried by entangling vines throughout. Breaking free of the vines, Sven made it to the end. Nesrin seemed pleased. "Well done Sven, just remember that your ability to move is lessened by the form, take that into account when you use it." Smiling down at him he finished, "Go clean yourself up and get a bit of rest. I will be calling to the Qalm shortly."

Sven did as he was told, returning to his room and changing his clothes into a fresh set. He felt ready for whatever lay ahead. Stronger, both in his fury craft and grit, Sven was pleased. His thoughts were interrupted as a presence flared across the bond shortly followed by Nesrin's voice ringing in his head," Assemble my warriors. We must make haste to our next assignment. I expect you armed and equipped for a journey in ten minutes. Meet on Landing 9. I will explain there." Taking up Avalanche, and placing his throwing axes in his sash, Sven made his way to the landing, ready to test his newfound abilities.


----------



## Malochai

The task Glion had set him for their final session was simple, the logic puzzle nothing more than an exercise in focus. Gandogar had grinned slyly when it had been set; after months of being pushed to do better by his great-great-great uncle, the task - which he had initially had to concentrate on entirely to complete - was easy, and a testament to how much the dwarf’s command over earth, fire and stone had expanded. 

Rockfist had made him strive to do better, the put downs encouraging him to try harder, but never as much as the small smiles he had occasionally seen pulling at the corners of his mouth, lighting up the stony eyes slightly. Gandogar had thought himself a competent Tashiri after completing his Test, but only after being introduced to his new Hetat after the attack on the Hive had he realised how much he still had to learn, and how little mastery he truly had over the Furies of Earth and Fire. The past five months had helped him to gain new skills, under the tutelage of his uncle; the teaching was more natural than any he had had before - there was a connection between the dwarves, no doubt from their shared Clan history. 

What he had preferred, above even the extension of his skills over Flame and Earth, were the times he had spent with Glion outside of the training. The stories he had heard entranced him; the history of Clan Tri-Kazelim and the legends of some of the most important members of his ancestry since it’s founding, including the true history of Duzurak Forge-Hammer, one of Gandogar’s teachers in the forges of Dwarrowhelm before he was taken by the Tashiri. What Glion didn't mention was how he came to be put on such a pedestal by his own clan, how he became the epitome of the dwarven warrior amongst those of Tri-Kazelim, and Gandogar felt it prudent not to ask - he had heard and memorised the stories as a child anyway, and if Glion didn’t want to talk about it, Gandogar decided it was not his place to bring it up. He had spent so little of his life with those of his own bloodline that the time spent with the Hetat was invaluable to him, and he didn't want to risk cutting that short by asking incautious questions.

He thought back to the times he had sat with the others of his Qalm in the evening, eating the fine foods and drinking the quality ales the Tashiri were served, taking in the air of companionship which had developed, especially since the attack and subsequent destruction of the Vicery Hive, and how he had barely managed to snatch five minutes at a time with Nesrin at these meals, and had found much more guidance in the form of Glion and sought to divine purpose from the stories, told with a mug of ale in one hand and a pipe filled with some of the finest Tobac that Gandogar had smoked in the other.

He shook his head - the thoughts of the Hive dredged up memories of Djinn and the sacrifice he had made. A permanent dull ache between two of his ribs started to worsen, and he thought of the wound he had taken, causing him to grind his teeth and imagine the toll he could have taken on the insectoids if he had the control he now did, as he had done so many times in the last five months, directly before he would plough his concentration into focus tasks learnt from Glion. _'The bastards would regret it now,'_ he vowed silently.

--------------------------------------------------​
Gandogar dragged his attention back to the task he had been set; manipulating the pieces of the earth puzzle with ease, but determined to force memories of the Hive away for a time, and it was with slight relief that he allowed Glion to stop him and take up his attention. 

*"Well lad, our time has come to an end. I have enjoyed working with you and it is a relief that the blood of our Clan has remained strong.”* When he then pressed a ring into Gandogar’s calloused hand, he could do nothing but nod slightly. *“Remember where you come from lad. Go now, your Qalm will have need of you soon.”*

The younger dwarven Tashiri heard the sigh, and felt genuine affection for the Hetat, and felt privileged to have worked under him. With a grim smile, and as he was all but forced from Glion’s quarters, he gruffly replied, *“The blood's strong, for it was borne by the strongest.”* Grumbling to himself quietly, Gandogar wandered through the halls of the Tashiri until he arrived at his own room, leaning heavily on the door and sighing. He would miss the tuition of his ancestor, and the teachings of his Clan. _'Tri-Kazelim must be something to see,'_ he thought, suddenly exhausted and decidedly missing his homeland.

Slowly pushing open the sturdy door, he opened his rough hand and looked at the ring he had been given, astonished to see his Clan emblem - a black mountain set behind a crossed axe and hammer - on the ancient, intricately carved iron band which still managed to look functional. Pride swelled in his breast, slightly dampening the homesickness he had felt, and Gandogar smiled grimly, shaking his head as he placed the ring on his right hand, after hesitating for a second. _'Am I really worthy?'_ 

As the others entered the dorms, a sense of anticipation, anxiety and something else distracted the dwarven Tashiri, and he nodded to them, an easy, amiable smile on his face, despite feeling slightly disturbed. _‘It was just the calm before the storm,’_ he realised, before thinking he should have used an analogy more suited to the furies he controlled, and then something else came into his mind, something not of Gandogar’s consciousness. 

*“Assemble my warriors. We must make haste to our next assignment. I expect you armed and equipped for a journey in ten minutes. Meet on Landing 9. I will explain there.”*

The feeling of anxiety now resided deeply inside Gandogar’s stomach, and it felt like a stone had settled there. _‘And I shall draw strength from that,’_ he decided, shaking his head and setting about readying himself. Two minutes after Nesrin's message had entered his mind, he had drawn from the stout iron-bound, oaken chest at the foot of his bed his chain-mail shirt and the leather jerkin he wore over it and donned them, the armour feeling like a second skin to the dwarf, and then put on the heavy belt which held his straight, short-bladed knife. The final thing he drew from the chest was his broad-bladed, double-headed axe, grasping it firmly between his hands with a grim look on his face. The weapon's haft was made of weathered oak, and bound with strips of leather, the blade inlaid with runes of such intricacy that, even though it was only mundane light playing over them, they mesmerically drew the eye.

He strode from the room, axe still held in both hands, and took the most direct route to Landing 9 whilst he drew Furies of Earth and Fire to him, readying himself for what would come.


----------



## deathbringer

Despite the presence of the dark skinned metal walker the time in the forge became the time he needed, at nights he returned to his qualm shattered, muscles aching, yet without the knots and strains that anxiety placed upon him.

The Hammerhand seemed to disregard the elf, his eyes lighting as he fixed upon a member of his kin, great sweaty hands clasping his shoulder as they worked the forge together, side by side. They had never met, never forged together yet there was an instinctive unity and uniqueness of their movements a tie that linked all brethren of the depths despite the cleft between their skills.

Even as they worked natural came the conversation, though it could easily be mistaken by the casual onlooker as lectures, tales of the elder his chant rising and falling seamlessly with the beat of hammer on steel, the songs that swelled from their hearts, bursting from their mouths to ring through the forge, its conclusion always ending with mutual smiles and laughter.

As much as he loved the sounds of his own voice, rarely stopped but to correct a grip here or pose a question there, the Hammerhand sought for tales of a homeland he had long since left, a thirst in his soul for the depths that Daruk felt all too keenly.

They were born in the depths, bred in the depths and it was the natural expectation that they would one day return to the ground that had shaped them. 

Even as the weeks wore in, the calm of his mind and the exertion of his body was undermined by a sense of futility, though the elf spent little time with his master, his skill seemed to rise, new talents springing from his fingers at a whim, whilst Daruk learned little he did not already know despite their close proximity.

Worry seeped through the cracks of his persona, the logical conclusion that metal was not his field, that he could never in truth work the forge as a dwarf should, that his talents were merely in the murder make.

Soon the knots were back, the laughter and tales of the Hammerhand no longer a balm to his ill tempered soul, an irritating reminder of his own failings.

The day he could bare it no longer, he threw down his tools, the hammer ringing upon the anvil as it skipped away eyes fixed ahead of him, his body desperate to round upon the Hammerhand with anger and confusion, the question stalled upon pursed lips by the possibility of a response he could not bare to here. 

A mighty palm clasped his shoulder and he turned to meet a smiling face, eyes twinkling like diamonds as he looked upon Daruk, the smile knowing as his booming voice became rye and taunting.

"So you think that I have taught you nothing but swinging a hammer and a bit of history," 

Daruk lowered his eyes in shame, nay, Master Hammerhand had taught him much, soothed an anxious soul, twas his own failings that haunted him, not the.... he opened his mouth to speek yet the Hammerhand overrode him

"Close your eyes Daruk and tell me what you feel."

Grudgingly he shut them and reached out to recoil in surprise as a wash of furies rushed over him, metal and steel that had seemed lifeless becoming a block of buzzing life, furies inter locked hand to hand solid and unbending yet filled with potential. A stuttering laugh, amazed by the beautiful pulsating life of the forge twisted his lips even as he opened his eyes to find the Hammerhand grimly returning to the forge with a low grunt

"Furies are like a good woman boy." He winked, the smile twinkling once more "You have to get to know them a bit, share a few tales and some time together before you can feel for them."
-----------------------------------------------------------------
Alone at last, for the first time he had left the forge as soon as dismissed, beating the elf to the door, he had hurried to his chambers, his mind consumed by a single thought.

In a flurry for excitement he slammed the door and reached for the two pieces of himself that hung like guardians upon the other side.

The axes in his hand buzzed and vibrated with life, the sensation so foreign yet so welcoming, every inch an inch he knew intimately, yet now twisted into another form. The furies at the very tip of the blade reached out with barbed claws stained blood red, a tickling caress at his finger tips, the haft sturdy and dependable, the furies twisting and turning, melding seamlessly under his grip as they reached out to him as battlebrothers, brothers by blood he had never known he had.
_____________________________________________
He entered the forge early, yet despite rising at the crow of the cockerell, a hurried breakfast and a hasty shower he still could not beat the Hammerhand to the forge, the bustling of the great dwarf somewhere beyond his vision bringing a smile to his lips.

The calm had well and truly descended a contentment and happiness that set his lips into a whistle as he slid an apron over his biceps, content at how it strained over new layers of thick muscle on chest and arm, true testament to his labours at the forge.

"Not today lad, but perhaps someday soon. Today your Qalm needs you."

The voice sent him spinning towards the Hammerhand, face falling, lips spreading, the question bursting before he could stop it

"Why?" shock filled his features and he snapped upright, words becoming formal

"My apologies Master Hammerhand. Your gifts of knowledge have shamed me with their generosity, yet the balm to my heart is a gift I can never repay."

Pah, lad I ne'er had a way with words. But I'll take that as a thankee and to that I say you are very welcome." 

He waved a dismissive hand wiping his nose and smearing it with yet more soot

"As to why, I canae say exactly. The Radan has many plans in action at the moment and many a piece on the chessboard. Where you and your Qalm go has been entrusted to your Hetat, who is sadly not under my watchful eye."

He gave a little chuckle

"You keep a keen ear on the words of your Hetat boy, mind him, he is one of the best that I have seen in quiet a long time." 

The Hammerhand gave a conspiratorial wink

"not that I had anything to do with it."

Daruk felt his face break into a small smile, a quick salute hand to breast and he was gone leaving the Hammerhand beaming absently in his wake. 

Even as he strode through the corridors, he felt the blood rush, the tingling anticipation of battle ahead.

Without a word he pulled the pendant from under his shirt to swing across his broad chest, the gentle caress of three furies against his soot stained fingers


----------



## Anilar

Eldur stood in front of the intricate circles of the Kallimatar, alone in master Mirran's room. Eldur had spent painful gruelling hours upon hours in the first 3 months of his training, learning and mastering the Kallimatar. Words had almost been non exitent, as when Eldur and the master had spent time in the desert under a vow of silence. Eldur and Mirran knowing each other well enough, that intent and meaning could be communicated in body language alone. And master Mirran had demanded perfection in the kallimatar, every step, every turn, every movement with hand and arm precise and agile. The Kallimatar was also exhausting, its training had increased both endurance and agility of Eldur, as it had forced him into positions, that he only thought possible by contortionists in the travelling theater troupes.

And where most masters might go in and correct a form by word, contact or a wooden stick, master Mirran had used fire and heated metal rods, forcing Eldur to draw upon his own powers and control over the furies of fire to protect himself from the heat, while he still had to control the Kallimatar. It had been impossible at times, and a few new burn scars had been added to his arms and legs, nothing new to Eldur, what had been most frustrating for Eldur, was that master Mirran had simply refused to even discuss the new abilities he was to learn, not untill he had mastered the Kallimatar.

Now 5 months into his training, Eldur understood why he had to master the Kallimatar before beginning on his new abilities, its movements designed to emulate fire, living fire had made him understand and come even closer to the fire furies. And discussing and training his new abilites without this knowledge would simply have been foolish. Eldur also realised that even thou learning the Kallimatar from the beginning as a novice would have improved his training in early life, he and most other novices would not have had the patience and dedication that it would have been possible. At least not without a lot frustration and anger involved. So not only had Eldur been taught new abilities and greater control over himself and firefuries, he had also been taught a valuable lesson in how to teach, if he ever would find himself becoming a instructor.

Still standing infront of the Kallimatar circles, Eldur closed his eyes and took the stance that would begin the Kallimatar, that movement alone enough to attract the attention of Kebakaran from its playground in master Mirran's fireplace. Slowly releasing his breath, eyes kept close, Eldur let his right foot follow the inside of the first circle, as his body crumbled almost into itself, like stacked firewood in a bonfire that looses its structure. Then began the dance of the ember, the deep orange glow, its comforting heat. The furies around eldur becoming attracted to the Kallimatar, Kebakaran in front in its peaceful mood. The temperature in the room rising slightly, the furies in the embers of master Mirran's fireplace beginning to become exited with anticipation.

As Eldur progressed through his peaceful movements, they began to become slightly more erratic like little flames. Just like what would happen when wood would be placed in a fireplace with only embers left, and a soft breeze would breathe life into the embers, and the heat would catch the fresh firewood. Kebakaran followed Eldur's movements, running up and down his arms. Other fire furies circling around Eldur waiting anticipating. The embers in the fireplace lighting up.

The movements developed into more flowing powerful forms, as the dance moved into emulating a strong fire. Kebakaran was beginning to transform into his mood of the fierce protector, the temperature in the room raising several degrees. The furies in the fireplace had come to life, burning brigthly. And dozens of other furies was playing around Eldurs flowing body, emulating living fire perfectly.

Then came the hardest parts of the movements, the part where the fire turned into a inferno. The kind of fire that burns down forests, that sucks out all oxygen of the air, the kind of heat that evaporates water before it hits the fire, the kind of heat that melts rock. Eldur moved around incredible fast, Kebakaran almost manifesting itself, every other fire fury moving in and out of the kallimatar with blinding speed, all exited and furious. The heat in the room almost unbearable, like standing in direct sunlight in the desert with no shade for hours and dehydrated. The furies in the fireplace, almost blinding in there excitement.

But as furious, fast and powerful that part of the dance is, it is also short, as most infernoes like that exhausts itself burning out, so did Eldur go through the movements of the dying flame, the furies slowing down, relaxing. The temperature dropping in the room, the fire in the fireplace dying down. Kebakaran slowly turning back into its mood of companion and encouraging heat, telling Eldur how proud it has become, by how it moves with him in the Kallimatar. Turning into a ember with Eldur, as the movements ends.

As Eldur rised from the middle of the circles, he sensed he was not alone, snapping eyes open he was met by Mirran, a beaming smile all over his face, Eldur couldn't help smile back, his confidence rising with the pride the master so obviously showed. But as usual Master Mirran didn't draw out his sentiments sending Eldur back to his qualm with these words.
_
"You have learned well once more young one. The skills that you came to learn have been learned, but remember that they take a lifetime to master. Go, your Qalm will have need of you shortly"_

As Eldur returned to his qalm, he could feel the others anticipation of what was to happen, as he was sure they could feel his. All had learned something new, all had become stronger, all was ready for what life and duty would throw at them. Eldur wen't over to his equipment and checked it over, awaiting what ever was to come.


----------



## Angel of Blood

Sol stood with Aleanatin in the empty halls of the Hetats quarters. Aleanatins eyes following Ferro, Sols manifest fury, as it soars around the training area, a smile of pride and happiness at the Tashiris accomplishment clear on his face. Sol saw the smile and thought to himself of how things had changed.

He could still remember first arriving to train under the Hetat, cautious and uncomfortable at being assigned to one who had lost so much recently, almost everything in fact. A sense of depression and gloom surrounded the quarters, quarters which not so long ago would have been bustling with activity and laughter from the lost Qalm. Aleanatin himself hadn't helped to ease his unease at being assigned to him. In the first weeks Sol would have to cross the empty halls to the Hetats room and knock for him, often several times before he would finally emerge and start the days lessons.

Back then he was dismissive, speaking to Sol as little as possible as he set him on strict physical regimes and practices, more often than not standing in silence and refusing any attempt to join in conversations Sol would try and start. Every lesson would end suddenly, with a curt dismissal and no indication as to how he was developing or improving. 

Nevertheless, Sol persevered and pushed himself harder than ever, and in time Aleanatin gradually softened, not simply speaking to him to issue instructions, but to give advice or give him lectures on philosophies, eventually even engaging on conversations, to discover the two had much in common, Aleanatin himself having started off as a fire wielder. 

The real turning point in Sols mind was when the Hetat began to invite him to eat with him after their lessons twice a week. It was during these dinners that they would discover much more about each other and form an initially tenuous friendship. Discussions over the nature of fire, the possibilities it held and even wild speculation on both parts as to what could be achieved with enough control and discipline. 

No longer would Sol have to seek him out in his room to start a lesson, but would find him waiting for him in the halls, eager almost to start the lessons. Sol felt as if the Hetat was finally moving on and learning to deal with his grief, no longer would he remain in the empty dorm, alone in his solitude. When he wasn't sharing meals with Sol, he would leave with him at the end of lessons and go to eat with the other Hetats instead of retreating back to his quarters. Even the empty halls now seemed to feel less gloomy, even without a Qalm to fill them, it seemed less of a place of despair and grief.

"Our time together has been well spent Sol," he said, snapping Sol out of his musings "the form suits you."

"I will always be grateful for the lessons you have taught me. It's normally….difficult for me to socialise well with others, to volatile people say, side effect of being a fire wielder i've always assumed" He says with a wry smile "You've made it much easier my friend"

"I remember my early days, my disposition much the same. You are right in your assumption." Aleanatin said, nodding in agreement "Many of the masters have long theorised and the centuries have shown them to be right, that those strong in one aspect of fury craft or another, find that their personalities mimic the very elements that they wield."

He paused, his expression becoming reflective, pensive even "I too wish to say thank you. I had originally raged against the Radans insistence that I train you.... I thought it, to my sorrow, a waste of my time" He smiled, happiness shining where months ago there was nothing, "I'm pleased to say that my opinion has changed drastically. I feel more like myself.... Your companionship has been a blessing I did not know that I needed."

Sol felt a rush of pride, a sense of shared accomplishment between them. "I can only imagine how you must have felt when I first arrived, I can scarcely imagine I would appear to be the ideal student initially. I'm not sure I could ever have realised my full potential without you tough" He too now looked above to see the circling form of Ferro, his manifest fury and now companion.

He made a keen whistle and held out his arm, Ferro instantly soaring back down to land on his outstretched arm. "I have you to thank for Ferro also, I could only vaguely see his form before, not knowing back then that it was a fury trying to manifest it self to me." 

He looked at the shimmering phoenix for a moment with a slight frown "It's strange, I've never had a companion before, only ever mentors and others to fight alongside. I confess even now I still have trouble connecting with others of my Qalm, despite the bond"

The Hetat nodded, "It was the same for me. It took many years and many battles for me to open up to those around me, to see them as friends. I urge you, work at it. Take advantage of them as they do you. You are a family." He sadly looked around, gesturing to the expansive room around Sol, empty save for them "You never know when those around you will no longer be there."

"Our nature is to be singular, to remain isolated, it is such for all those with the strength in fire. What we don't realise, sometimes until it is too late, is that we cannot do it all alone. It is a lesson that we must be reminded of from time to time as well."

"Sol, you are welcome in my quarters at any time. Whether it be for instruction, advice, or simply companionship, my door is always open" He laid a reassuring hand on Sols shoulder "But it is time that this part of your training come to an end. I have word from Nesrin, your Qalm will be leaving on assignment soon. Return to them. Make ready."

Sol grasped Aleanatins forearm with his hand, the Hetat doing the same. "Thank you again Tianael, for everything. Please, give thought to taking a new Qalm when the opportunity arises, do not shun the chance. As you have said, we cannot do this alone." With a last look around the quarters, Sol nodded at the venerable master and left for his own Qalms quarters.

As he left, he felt a wave flow through him from his bond and heard Nesrins voice, instantly knowing he was addressing all of the Qalm "Assemble my warriors. We must make haste to our next assignment. I expect you armed and equipped for a journey in ten minutes. Meet on Landing 9. I will explain there." 

Already prepared from his lessons, Sol made his way straight to the landing platform, calling Ferro back into himself for the time being.


----------



## Midge913

*Update #26*

All: All of you make your way to Landing 9 as a group and you see that the Talissariat is a buzz with activity. Tashiri warriors and order serfs rushing too and fro, each intent on whatever business they are about. There is an air of nervous energy that seems to have permeated the Temple, the source of which becomes apparent as you cross through the main entrance hall as you pass from the direction of you quarters to the stairwell into the northeast tower, the tower that contains Landing 9. 
Standing in the main hall, are a collection of Woodelves, all of regal and noble bearing, but what stands out to you is the fact that each is accompanied by a massive, shining, silver furred Stag. To the majority of you this is merely a curiousity, the fact that these animals stand in the entrance hall an oddity to be reflected upon as you pass. You do notice that there are several black sashed Masters, speaking with the delegation, and the importance of this envoy is not lost upon you even if you don't fully understand its significance. 

Fae'en: You and Aalrik walk together towards the back of the pack, Aalrik's dire wolves trailing behind him, from the Qalm's quarters and unlike the others who are around you, you are almost floored when you see the delegation of Glade Riders standing in the entrance hall. These mounted warriors are the personal bodyguards and retainers of the Wood Elf royalty, meaning that one of the reclusive leaders of your race has actually deemed it necessary to leave their great forests and seek the aid of the Tashiri Order. Whatever it was that brought one of the Queen's household to the Talissariat, must be dire indeed for one of such importance to come in person. You can relay this information to the group or keep it to yourself as you see fit. Aalrik will say little, his eyes merely taking in the group, filing away its presence as a bit of information to be called upon later. 

All: Making your way through the rest of the Temple, you finally find yourself once more on Landing 9. reflections of the fight in the Vicery hive fresh in your mind as you take in the repaired air carriage in front of you, you wonder what it is that you will be dealing with this time. You all go about checking your own equipment and the Qalm's supplied in the cargo compartment of the air carriage as you wait for Nesrin to arrive. After what seems like forever, Nesrin finally appears, his massive frame once more girded for battle, his expression severe. 

"We must make haste younglings," he says without preamble, "The forest home of the Wood Elves is under attack by the Taroug." He sees the skepticism in your eyes, for you all know that the last time a true Taroug warpack was seen most of you were all either infants or just a gleam in you father's eye. "To make matters worse, this is no mere roving pack of the beasts. They are a great contingent and with the information that I have been provided the only conclusion that can be drawn is that they wish to decimate the elves and take Caratad for themselves. How the managed to breach the walls of the Fortress COuntry to begin with is unknown, but the Crown Prince of Elorain brought this entreaty to the Radan himself, that alone gives all the credance to his report that is needed."

His heavy gaze will fall on you all, passing from warrior to warrior, "Something dark stirs these things. First the Vicery in a strength we have not seen in a century, now the Taroug rampaging unchecked inside the walls of fortress country. We must be on our guard my warriors.... Something about these events makes me uneasy. They are linked in someway I can feel it." Shaking his great head," Mount up. We fly straight through the night. We must arrive with all haste." Those of you without the capability of flight take your place in the air carriage. The rest of you take to the skies a mere second behind Nesrin. As you clear the parapet of the Landing platform, you look around, whether from the window of the air carriage or from whatever vantage point you have in your own flight path, and see that there are no fewer than 15 air carriages taking off from various places around the Talissariat. The enormity of what you go to face suddenly dawns on you as you realize that each of these carriages, and accompanying flying warriors, all turn to the northeast, and begin a hasty flight toward Caratad. No less than a dozen Qalms.... The Tashiri are going to war. 

[I really want you all to focus on your characters thoughts and reactions to your newest mission. Talk to each other and work out conversations. Remember that you are all comfortable with each other after the communion that you all have shared over the last several months. If need be I can facilitate convos. 

Jackinator, Lord Ramo, Santaire, and Revan- I understand that this time of year gets busy and posting time comes at a premium. I would love for you to cover both updates in your next post. Get with me if you have any issues.]


----------



## Malochai

Gandogar strode through the halls of the Talissariat grimly, noting the huge amounts of activity, causing the knot of anxiety in his stomach to grow tighter. The nervousness which suddenly took over him seemed to have at least a hold on most of those about him, and he sighed until he felt Torag’s presence draw near. The sound of hard paws on the floor of the corridor grew in volume until it felt that it was all the dwarf could hear. The dog-shaped Fury appeared to his right and circled him three times anti-clockwise, with the dwarf’s hand trailing across his back, which cracked with every move. The heat the Fury made manifest slightly eased the anticipation he was feeling; just being close to Torag helped him to relax. 

The dwarf was mystified to see the wood elves in the main hall, and the stags added even more to that; he’d not seen a gathering like it in all his time training or since becoming a fully fledged Tashiri, but he knew that Nesrin was awaiting their presence and he dared not dally long to attempt to figure out the reason for such a regal-looking visitation, and the fact that there were a number of masters speaking with them, apparently earnestly, caused the dwarf concern, but he realised he could do no good by attempting to puzzle it out. _‘If it is for me to know, I will be told,’_ he decided, with a shrug of his shoulders, which also served to settle his chainmail more comfortably over his shoulders. Shaking his head, and running a hand through his beard, made his way towards Landing 9, and duty. 

Landing 9 was just as busy as the rest of the Talissariat, but the dwarf wasn’t concentrating on where he was going, trusting Torag to lead him through the crowds, and his mind was months in the past, fighting in the Hive. Fire, metal, water, earth and air. All swirled, all dealt death ... And yet it was not enough, despite all their years of training, to stop death reaching them. He almost stumbled when Torag stopped, but realised quickly they had arrived at the air carriage, and whilst he awaited Nesrin’s arrival, took out a whet stone and ran it along the blades of his axe, the constant, repetitive motion soothing. Torag had settled, curled, at his feet, molten eyes watching unceasingly from his canine head, which he rested on his paws. 

It was more a feeling than anything else which made Gandogar look up when Nesrin finally reached them, but he quickly stowed the whetstone and took up his axe, looking at the Qalm’s leader expectantly; the look on his face caused the tension in the dwarf’s stomach to coil tighter once more, and a concerned frown crossed his own rugged face.

*"We must make haste younglings. The forest home of the Wood Elves is under attack by the Taroug. To make matters worse, this is no mere roving pack of the beasts. They are a great contingent and with the information that I have been provided the only conclusion that can be drawn is that they wish to decimate the elves and take Caratad for themselves. How the managed to breach the walls of the Fortress Country to begin with is unknown, but the Crown Prince of Elorain brought this entreaty to the Radan himself, that alone gives all the credence to his report that is needed.”* Gandogar’s frown deepened considerably at Nesrin’s words; _‘Indeed, these are grim tidings,’_ he thought to himself, _‘And easily explain the unprecedented delegation.’_ shaking his head, causing his intricately braided beard to wag, and then he focussed on Nesrin’s words once more.

*“Something dark stirs these things. First the Vicery in a strength we have not seen in a century, now the Taroug rampaging unchecked inside the walls of fortress country. We must be on our guard my warriors.... Something about these events makes me uneasy. They are linked in someway I can feel it. Mount up. We fly straight through the night. We must arrive with all haste."*

Quickly, Gandogar collected his items and entered the air carriage, more than glad to have the relative safety of the structure about him rather than relying on maddeningly difficult skills and his own concentration over such a distance. Once all the others had prepared themselves, and the carriage had left the Landing, the dwarf looked grimly out of the window. _‘Fifteen? This is worse than I thought ...’_ The depressing thought was gone as soon as it came, for Torag brushed his head against Gandogar’s hand, and his fiery nature reminded the Earth-Mover of the power such a force represented. He smiled dourly, and remembered Glion’s words:- _Remember where you come from, lad_. Instantly, the anticipation became determination. Whether his Clan liked it or not, he was Tashiri. And he would make them proud. 

*"Wait! I... I know that uniform... These are Glade Riders! They're the Queen's personal Guard!"* Fae’en’s voice sliced through the dwarf’s thoughts; and he started to listen to what was happening around him. 

*"Fae'en I think we all recognise the uniform from our teachings, but I guess they mean more to you, but I guess that all the action around us, indicates that something is happening or something is going to happen. I don't recall anything in my education that tells this has happened before."* Gandogar snorted quietly at Eldur’s comment, shaking his head and absent-mindedly stroking his beard with his left hand. With his right, he took the axe off of his back and placed it blade-head against the floor and leant on it.

*"Of course there's something going on, lad. Have you seen such activity here ... Ever? This is off, and that's an understatement. If we're not prepared ..."* The thought disturbed him; if the Tashiri were unprepared, and could be defeated ... _‘Then what left could stop the rampaging and pillaging hordes now in the Fortress Countries?’_ He left the thought unvoiced, the thought was unwelcome in his own mind, to force it on the others would be unfair, and regardless, they could easily come to such conclusions themselves; all of the Tashiri could. 

When Aalrik replied with, *"I agree Gandogar. It is almost unheard of for one of the royal court to leave Loth'Loren, and that is the only reason I can think of for the Glade Guard to be here. Something is definitely amiss my friends."* The dwarf could only reply with a nod; he didn’t trust himself not to say something off-putting or disturbing. He sank into deep contemplation. Torag had once more curled at his feet, and he drew comfort from the warmth. Despite his comfort with the others of his Qalm, the quiet of contemplation felt much more appropriate. His mind was split between the past and the future; the Vicery hive and the Taroug to come. 

*“Come what may,”* he muttered accidentally, unsure if the others heard him or not.


----------



## Therizza

"Glade riders..." Sven muttered to himself as he checked his kit. Though he had never seen one in person, he had heard tales of their prowess. The magnitude of their mission began to sink in as Sven passed by one of their regal Stags. The news of a Taroug attack itself would not have been as disconcerting, but the news that the realm of the Wood Elves was under attack was inconceivable. 

Sven felt something in his stomach, like butterflies. He hadn't felt that way in a long time, since his initial training, before joining his Qalm. Sven knew in his mind that they were going into the maw of something the likes of which he had never imagined. Though he was confident in his recent training, he knew full well that they might not come back from this one. He had already had a run in with death in the Vicery hive, and had no intention of letting that happen again. Whereas before he had fought recklessly, now he could rely on his Qalm for strength, and his training to guide every stroke of Avalanche. 

As Sven strode up to the air carriage to depart, he knelt to touch the ground. Sven was never a fan of air travel, preferring to stay closer to the earth. Reaching out, he communed with Asher. We go to battle once more my friend. Soon I will call on you. 

After entering the carriage, Sven reflected on Nesrin's words. Looking out the window, seeing nearly a score of Qalm's heading to battle, the largest in a century, Sven tried to stay any worries he had.

As they departed, Sven produced a whetstone to sharpen one of his throwing axes as Aalrik and Gandogar conversed. Eventually, Gandogar muttered something to himself. 

"Come what may," he said.

Piping up, Sven thought to assuage any fears he or his Qalm-mates were feeling. "Aye, Gandogar, come what may. But of this I am sure: as individuals, we would surely fall. But we fight as a Qalm! We are unshakable in that! I will be there for you, as we all shall be."

Though he knew not what was driving the Taroug, nor the disposition on the ground, he was ready. If it was confidence, or bravery, or fear hidden behind strong words he did not know, nor did he care. The Tashiri were going to war, and Sven would be no other place than riding into the maelstrom with his family.


----------



## Jackinator

Master Getmin was truly a genius at his craft and though often bumbling and awkward with his words he would often spin tales of his past experiences which usually left her in tears of laughter. He was a strange, eccentric fellow, but his reclusive nature spoke to the shy, isolated nature in her in a way that she couldn't help but return. In the few months of learning she had grown fond, and even, perhaps, close to the kindly old master.

With his guidance she found mastering the tempest, not only enjoyable, but almost easy to see how each factor of the storm interlocks and affects everything else, how one simple mistake could throw the whole thing into an uncontrollable fury of destructive force. It had come to her with the same ease once she had understood it as her abilities had once come to her when she needed them.

As it comes to the time for her to leave Getmin pushed a small, hard, rounded object into her hand. She felt a smile break as she got a look at the strange object to see a storm in a glass, much like the one she had seen the first time she had visited Getmin. She smiled warmly at the gift, it had been the first one she had ever recieved and upon her return to her quarters took pride of place among her possessions.

It wasn't long before Nesrin's voice rang through her mind "Assemble my warriors. We must make haste to our next assignment. I expect you armed and equipped for a journey in ten minutes. Meet on Landing 9. I will explain there."

The fortress was busy, busier than she had ever seen it, but the sight that truly amazed her was the group of tall, noble woodelves, each accompanied by a stag that stood taller even than their statuesque forms. They radiated an aura of confidence and hidden power and the diminuitive high elf struggled not to shy instinctively away from them.

What came next was even more unexpected, the Taroug! They hadn't been seen in decades, not in any great numbers at least, and now there was a force within the Fortress Country, one powerful enough to threaten the home of the wood elves it seemed.

The news was ominous, and Isira could tell the others felt the same. She felt a strange tightness in her chest, anxiety? Fear? She didn't know, and pushed it aside, she wouldn't let her own fears stop her, she looked around at the others, and couldn't prevent her thoughts from straying to Belak, it had been months, but of all of them, she had struggled the most to accept his death. She still hadn't truth be told, she struggled to sleep, often found herself sitting in the corner of her room, filled with a strange emptiness that she couldn't explain.


----------



## Santaire

Five months had passed since the Vicery hive, though it felt like five weeks to Zacarish as he passed from the corridor into his room. He had noticed an air of anticipation in the air as he strode through the halls, though anticipation for what he did not know. What unnerved him though, was that he could feel it too.

His training with Master Hammerfist had been uneventful. He and the stalwart dwarf seemed to have had nothing in common other than their shared affinity for metal furies. Zacarish could not understand it, for despite the fact that he had a great deal of skill in manipulating the furies attuned to metal, it had been Daruk who had truly connected with Hammerfist. But then, they were both dwarves. At the weak stab of jealousy that had entered his mind Zacarish shook his head and smiled ruefully.

After all, he had learned what he came to learn. However he had learned little else, other than a few shortcuts usable when working metal in a forge. Sitting at the desk, he rested his head on his hands. This time, when he smiled it was grim. Five long months had passed, yet still the pain was fresh in his mind. An excellent memory was a blessing at the best of times, but at the worst it was a curse. He could still see Djinn beginning to glow, could still see the ferocious smile of the man just before the flame within broke free of him, immolating him and the Vicery guardian that had held him. He could still see Belak lying still on the ground, his once grey skin pale in death and an expression of utter peace on his face.

He clutched at his head, trying to banish the memories by sheer willpower. But he was too weak. The memories never left him, not even on his dying day.

The furies coursed through him, the struggle a welcome distraction from the pain of the memories that faded but never vanished entirely. He manipulated the caldrite whip, using his combined metal and air furies to use it faster and faster until Zacarish himself had almost disappeared behind a blur of metal. But working the furies in such a way was draining and Zacarish released his grip on them, sitting down on the bed with a thud. But all through that, the anticipation was still in the back of his mind. A feeling that had no doubt been spread through the bond, a feeling that the time of calm study was coming to an end.

This feeling was proved as a presence flared in the bond and Nesrin’s voice followed it soon afterwards. “Assemble my warriors. We must make haste to our next assignment. I expect you armed and equipped for a journey in ten minutes. Meet on Landing 9. I will explain there..."

***​
The Qalm gathered and it was as a group that they made their way to Landing 9. Zacarish noted the increased levels of activity in the Talissariat, servants and Tashiri rushing to complete whatever task had been appointed to them. An air of nervous energy permeated the Temple and the source became apparent all too soon. As they passed through the main entrance hall they saw a collection of Wood Elves, all of regal bearing. But the Wood Elves themselves were not what drew stares, but the huge, silver furred stags that stood beside each one of them. To Zacarish this was merely a curiosity, for he knew next to nothing of the Wood Elves. But the black sashed masters speaking with the delegation confirmed the importance of the Wood Elves, even if the reason for the respect given was unknown to Zacarish.

Moving swiftly through the rest of the temple, the Qalm finally found themselves on Landing 9, the second time they had stood upon it for an outward bound journey; the last occasion one that Zacarish had no doubt the rest of his Qalm members felt as he did, that it would be better to forget it and move on. But the holes in the bond were palpable and if Zacarish had forgotten, he would never have forgiven himself

We went about checking our equipment and the supplies in the repaired air carriage’s storage compartment. It seemed to take a lifetime for Nesrin to arrive but when he did he was garbed for war and his expression showed a terrifying seriousness and an astounding focus. "We must make haste younglings," he says without preamble, "The forest home of the Wood Elves is under attack by the Taroug." He may have seen the scepticism in our eyes, or merely felt it through the bond but he forged onwards, ignoring our disbelief. "To make matters worse, this is no mere roving pack of the beasts. They are a great contingent and with the information that I have been provided the only conclusion that can be drawn is that they wish to decimate the elves and take Caratad for themselves. How the managed to breach the walls of the Fortress Country to begin with is unknown, but the Crown Prince of Elorain brought this entreaty to the Radan himself, that alone gives all the credence to his report that is needed."

His heavy gaze passed all of them, settling for a moment on each warrior. Zacarish almost shivered when the Hetat’s gaze settled on him.

"Something dark stirs these things. First the Vicery in a strength we have not seen in a century, now the Taroug rampaging unchecked inside the walls of fortress country. We must be on our guard my warriors.... Something about these events makes me uneasy. They are linked in some way, I can feel it." Shaking his head, he continued speaking. "Mount up. We fly straight through the night. We must arrive with all haste."

Zacarish called the air furies, let them rush to him and opened his soul to serve as a conduit. He watched as those who could not fly entered the air carriage. He lifted from the ground a mere second after Nesrin himself, as did the others. As they cleared the parapet Zacarish took the opportunity to look round and saw that no fewer than 15 air carriages were lifting off from various other landing platforms. A dozen Qalms or more. No doubt about it, the Tashiri were going to war...


----------



## Serpion5

*Adam - Human Windwalker*

Barely had he returned, washed and changed than duty required Adam to move out once again. He took a few quick moments to prepare his mind for the coming conflict before stepping out into the hall. Exchanging a few greetings with the others also on their way he wasted no time and made his way to Landing Nine. The familiar setting was not an unwelcome sight, but of interest was the group of tall fancy dressed newcomers. 

They were elven, that was clear, and each was accompanied by a large white stag. There was little doubt they had something to do with the upcoming mission and Adam suppressed his curiosity as he continued to where the Hetat Nesrin was awaiting them. There was only the briefest of acknowledgements before Nesrin began instructing them. 

*'We must make haste younglings. The forest home of the Wood Elves is under attack by the Taroug.'* 

Adam narrowed his eyes at the mention of that name, the Taroug. These creatures had been unheard from for many years now, well before Adam himself was born. He could feel much the same from the others but Nesrin was already aware of the confusion.

*'To make matters worse, this is no mere roving pack of the beasts. They are a great contingent and with the information that I have been provided the only conclusion that can be drawn is that they wish to decimate the elves and take Caratad for themselves. How the managed to breach the walls of the Fortress COuntry to begin with is unknown, but the Crown Prince of Elorain brought this entreaty to the Radan himself, that alone gives all the credance to his report that is needed.'*

Adam shook his head as he tried to dredge up the memories of his studies long ago. He remembered that these creatures rarely attacked in force as they were now, so for something to drive them to this... 

*'Something dark stirs these things.'* Nesrin's words echoed the thoughts in Adam's head. *'First the Vicery in a strength we have not seen in a century, now the Taroug rampaging unchecked inside the walls of fortress country. We must be on our guard my warriors... Something about these events makes me uneasy. They are linked in some way, I can feel it.'* He shook his head as he concluded his thoughts. *'Mount up. We fly straight through the night. We must arrive with all haste.'*

As those without flight bean to enter the carriage, Adam detected the Wind Furies going to work around Nesrin and Zacarish and followed suit. His feet left the ground moments after those of his master and other flying companions and they flew out of the Hangar and into the sky. Taking up a position near the air carriage, Adam surveyed the skies around them and counted fifteen carriages. That could mean a dozen Qualms, an unprecedented number of tashiri warriors. 

The implication of this was without question. This was not just going to be some small skirmish, some in and out mission. This was very likely to be a protracted battle, the presage to what could fast become a war.


----------



## Anilar

The world was changing.
Eldur could feel it. Walking through the Talisariat to landing 9, had shown Eldur that much. The fortress had been busy with frantic activity, not unlike the activity he had witnessed, as the qalms had prepared for the Vicery Hive. But still the activity seemed to be of a larger scale. And Eldurs mind could not quite let go of the image of the regal wild riders of the wood elves, talking with black sashed tashiri masters. Eldur had recognised them instantly, even thou he had only seen pictures of the wild riders from one of the books he had read during his education. Master Mirran had during Eldurs many years of training insisted that Eldur also had a more academic education. Never good to know where one ends up, as Master Mirran had said back then.
The same education and some gut feeling that told Eldur that the world was changing rapidly, not unlike the world had changed back in the time when the fortress nations had been created, or when the Tashiri order had been founded.

Going over to the air carriage, Eldur adjusted his armour. As the 10 minutes Nesrin had demanded they were to be ready in, wasn't quite time enough to dress in his armour probably. He wasn't a air walker all, be as most other he had a bag packed at all times, with what he needed to travel, camping gear and the equipment to maintain his arms and armour. Placing his gear in the carriage storage compartment, helping the serfs milling around packing the carriage for its voyage. Every now and the Eldur spotted others from his Qalm all preparing for the travel there own way.

Waiting with the rest of the Qalm for Nesrin he finally appeared, and his word echoed Eldurs thoughts. The wood elves was being attacked by the Taroug. And the presence of the wild riders told everyone how severe the attack was. Nesrin also voiced his concerns that something dark was behind the situation something greater, echoing Eldur's thoughts that the world was changing.

Eldur placed himself inside the air carriage with the rest of the non-flying part of the qalm.
_"Wait! I... I know that uniform... These are Glade Riders! They're the Queen's personal Guard!"_ Fae'ens voice seemed slightly shocked as he spotted his countrymen's elite royal guard, Eldur turned his attention to his qalm brother.

_"Fae'en I think we all recognise the uniform from our teachings, but I guess they mean more to you, but I guess that all the action around us, indicates that something is happening or something is going to happen. I don't recall anything in my education that tells this has happened before."_ Eldur more felt that heard Gandogar's snort at his comment, and Eldur could understand that, Nesrin had just been outside telling as much. But Eldur couldn't quite get into his right mind, something was way off, so he hadn't really thought about what he had just said.

_"Of course there's something going on, lad. Have you seen such activity here ... Ever? This is off, and that's an understatement. If we're not prepared ..."_ 
Eldur was thankful for the dwarven company, there way of being, just seemed to ground Eldur, knowing as long they were alive, he would be alive.

_"I agree Gandogar. It is almost unheard of for one of the royal court to leave Loth'Loren, and that is the only reason I can think of for the Glade Guard to be here. Something is definitely amiss my friends." _Aalrik replied, echoing the concerns Eldur was sure they all felt, but was afraid to voice. Gandogar just saying. _“Come what may.”
_
_"Aye, Gandogar, come what may. But of this I am sure: as individuals, we would surely fall. But we fight as a Qalm! We are unshakable in that! I will be there for you, as we all shall be."_ Eldur smiled at Sven's comment, there was someone ready to go to battle for his qalm, just like they all were, but dwarfs seemed to have an ability to voice what everyone needed to hear. At least what he himself needed to hear. As he told 15 Air carriages taking to the air, Eldur knowing they were going for war, not containing a small incursion.

Communicating more through the bond and with the furies he could sense, than with use of his voice Eldur spoke. _"Friends and family, I believe the world is changing, lets do ours to make sure it changes for the better, for our families, friends, the elements, our nations, our people. Lets go out and deny the darkness Nesrin spoke off. And I don't know about you, but I plan to live through the change."_


----------



## Lord Ramo

Robb had found his training with Mistress Frendel to be fascinating, and a little disturbing compared to the training that he was used to as a metal walker. Mistress Frendel kept her emotions in check the entire time that he trained under her, not being like the other few water walkers that he had known whose emotions were clear and everyone could tell. She had kept her emotions neutral, barely smiling if she was pleased with his efforts or a tiny frown if she was not pleased. It confused him to no end but he endured as he tried to learn the ways of the water walking.

He remembered for the first couple of weeks that she had tried to teach him, how annoyed and discomforted he had been with the little amount of praise or criticsm, finding that that normally would be the most helpful thing for him in training. She merely watched as he tried to perform the exercises that she had set him as she studied his methods and results critically. 

He found it difficult to begin with, failing almost miserably everytime as he was so used to being a metal walker, the feel of metal and not the water. However she never lost her patience with Robb, only calmly explaining to him where he had gone wrong, and encouraging him to try again until he got it right. Although he had a hard time of being able to sense the feel of the water, its fluid movements required even more mental discipline than he was used to in his studies of metal he didn’t give up or allow himself to become too frustrated. 

He took early morning meditation like he normally did, but would get up even earlier than he used to and meditated until it was time to train under Frendel, taking 3 months of patience on both their accounts before he could finally begin to feel the furies of the water in the small training room that they had. The second he got a feel for the nature he progressed rapidly, allowing himself to work in concert with the furies, leading to a much greater improvement in his control of the water. When he wasn’t training with Frendel or meditating he would normally be found in the sparing arena, keeping his metal walking abilities at their peak condition so that they wouldn’t be neglected. He had barely anytime to socialize due to this, but knew that the qualm would only get stronger if they all worked their hardest.

On his last day of training with Frendel he stood in a dense cloud of fog, something that had been conjured from the water particles in the air around him, in an instant, finally mastering the control of water. Frendel moved into the fog, dissipating it with a simple wave of her hand. "You have done well Robb. I am surprised that you were able to turn your focus to the skills of Water, but it is a pleasant surprise. Perhaps we shall see each other again, and of course you are free to visit me at anytime, but you must go, your Qalm will have need of you soon." 

Robb bowed low to her, “Thank you Mistress Frendel. Your training and patience will help me further my studies to the Tashiri.” He turned and returned to his room, knowing that if the Qualm needed him then it would be for a mission. He quickly got dressed in his repaired chainmail armour, and placed his helm on his belt with that of his two glistening swords. It was time to get back out there, to take the fight to the enemies of the Tashiri. The time of peace was over for him.

Like water in his head Nesrin spoke telling them to get to the landing pads, urgency in his voice. Robb frowned but did as instructed jogging through the halls to get there quick enough. He arrived in time to see some strange looking warriors, noble bearing wood elves unmistakingly. He heard his qualm remark about the warriors calling them Glade Riders, the household guard of the Wood elf royalty, the most feared troops of the wood elves. It was unmistakeable to him, if they were here something big was going down and it had to be in wood elf territory. He took his place in the air carriage as the rest of those that couldn’t fly did, and settled down into a long journey of anticipation.


----------



## Midge913

*Update #27*

All: As you cruise along either in the carriage or outside riding the winds, you can't stop your mind from continuously returning to the unease that recent events have caused. Thoughts come unbidden to your mind as you contemplate the meaning of all these strange occurences. Nesrin's voice ripples through your thoughts, the concern that these things have raised in your Hetat enough to get your hackles on edge regardless of your own thoughts. Those of you that are in the air carriage are more than welcome to speak with your Qalm mates should you choose. 

This ride is much longer than the one that took you into the desert. It seems like forever, the endless plains of Borkan stretching for miles around, the seas of grain and corn and wheat waving like the tides of the sea in the wind, the effects of soporific. For those of you flying, especially Adam, it would be very easy to lose your bearings over such a featureless expanse, the only landmarks are the tiny buildings of the well spaced farmsteads. Sticking close to Nesrin's wings, you trust in your Hetat's ability to navigate you to the place that you are supposed to be. The hours stretch and even though you left the Talissariat in the early hours of the morning, mid-day is soon upon you, with no end of your journey in sight. 

[Those of you in the carriage: What is your character feeling and thinking about the coming mission and the implications of it? What does your character do? Do you nap? Do you converse with your fellows? Do you grab a bite to eat? Those of you in flying: Do you feel fatigue? aimlessness? Boredom? I want you all to delve into those characters and give me something good to read.]

The abruptness in the change of landscape as you cross into Caratad catches you by surprise. The farms and fields coming to an abrupt end as you reach the end of Borkan, replaced by the border land between the two fortress countries and despite the fact that it is but a few miles wide at this point, the twisted wilds that span the gap between the walls has an almost palpable sense of foreboding about it. A few of you have been this way in the course of your training, but even in the relatively short span of time that has elapsed since your own journey's to the wall here, the borderland seems to have changed, warped, the conifers that used, trees similar to the mighty oaks and well tended groves of Caratad, have been replaced with twisted evergreens. You feel surprise and disgust travel through the bond from Nesrin further increasing your own trepidation. What force, what foul power could twist the wilds in such a way? 

You have a few moments to contemplate it before the relative calm of the journey is replaced by the chaos of combat.

Adam (Serpion5): You are flying to Nesrin's left when a warning from **** screams at you. Your instincts and trust in your connection with your Fury saves your life as a pair of heavy ballista bolts pierce the air where you had just been. Each bolt is almost as long as Nesrin is tall and you watch in horror as another bolt takes one of the Tashiri Aria carrying the carriage through the chest, the bolt's broad head pinning him to the carriage, its bladed point travelling a good foot and a half into the carriage itself. You feel no hint of pain or injury through the bond, but you feel surprised panic. You have no time to contemplate on that though as you watch Nesrin take the burden once carried by the dead bearer. Nesrin's voice screams in your head, "To the ground my warriors! Tashira Aria converge there!" His hand flies out and a pulsing orb of flame streaks from his hand toward the ground, its light guiding you to the place where your Hetat wants to regroup, a clearing ringed by mammoth Fir trees. As you streak to the groud you are forced to dodge another ballista but you are able to make the clearing without injury. 

Sol (Angel of Blood): You are flying above the air carriage and as such are afforded a bit more time to see what happens to your fellow fliers. Sudden surprised flares through the bond from Adam and you watch as a series of ballista bolts, each as long as Nesrin is tall, streak toward your group. Adam defly avoids two of them, but one of the Tashiria Aria bearing the air carriage is not as lucky. The heavy bolt pierce him through the chest, the bolt's broad head pinning him to the carriage, its bladed point travelling a good foot and a half into the carriage itself. You feel no hint of pain or injury through the bond, but you feel surprised panic. You have no time to contemplate on that though as you watch Nesrin take the burden once carried by the dead bearer.Nesrin's voice screams in your head, "To the ground my warriors! Tashira Aria converge there!" His hand flies out and a pulsing orb of flame streaks from his hand toward the ground, its light guiding you to the place where your Hetat wants to regroup, a clearing ringed by mammoth Fir trees. As you streak toward the ground, the air carriage borne now by Nesrin and the three remaining Tashiri Aria, your slightly protected view allows you to see what Adam cannot. The treetops swaying in a most unnatural fashion as if something was travelling from treetop to treetop, its path clear.... directly toward the clearing that you shortly thereafter touch down in. You are about to have company it would be a good idea to warn the rest of the Qalm. 

Isira (Jackinator): You are off to Nesrin's right, the carriage obscuring your view of Adam, but his sudden surprise that flare across the bond probably saved your life. Your curiousity at what had happened to your Qalm mate instinctively drew you closer to the carriage and slightly higher than you were flying before, trying to get a view over the carriage's roof. A sharp pain flashes across your right arm, spinning you slightly off course, sending you careening into the side of the carriage. You are quickly able to recover and snapping your head around behind you you can see the bolt that did you injury. It is a superficial wound, a moderately deep cut on your right shoulder, but had you not moved closer to the carriage it would have taken you just above your midrift. Taking in the situation you see that one of the Tashiri Aria that was bearing the air carriage has been pierced through the chest with one of the heavy bolts, he bolt's broad head pinning him to the carriage, its bladed point travelling a good foot and a half into the carriage itself. You feel no hint of pain or injury through the bond, but you feel surprised panic. You have no time to contemplate on that though as you watch Nesrin take the burden once carried by the dead bearer.Nesrin's voice screams in your head, "To the ground my warriors! Tashira Aria converge there!" His hand flies out and a pulsing orb of flame streaks from his hand toward the ground, its light guiding you to the place where your Hetat wants to regroup, a clearing ringed by mammoth Fir trees. Streaking to the ground with the rest of the Qalm you are forced to dodge another ballista bolt but you are able to make the clearing without furhter injury. 

Zacarish (Santaire): You pulled rear guard, your sharp eyes scanning the horizons, you spot the bolt flying at you in enough time to avoid it. You trace the path of the bolt back until it disappears into the the twisted trees below you. You are unable to make out the enemy, but you can tell by the unnatural movement of the treetops that something is moving, and moving toward you. You feel the sudden surprise from the rest of the Qalm just as you hear .Nesrin's voice screams in your head, "To the ground my warriors! Tashira Aria converge there!" His hand flies out and a pulsing orb of flame streaks from his hand toward the ground, its light guiding you to the place where your Hetat wants to regroup, a clearing ringed by mammoth Fir trees. Moving with the carriage you streak towards the ground and as you approach you see that the movement in the trees has wheeled to make directly for the clearing that you and your Qalm touch down in. Most importantly just before you pass below the canopy you make out beings, far too large to be wood elves, springing through the trees, nimbly from branch to branch. It seems the enemy means to ambush you. You are uncertain as to what the beings are at the moment but it is a good bet that they are a Taroug War Pack. Sound the alarm and prepare yourself for battle. 

Gandogar (Malochai), Sven (Therizza), Eldur (Anilar), Darruk (deathbringer), Robb (Lord Ramo), & Fae'en (Firedamaged): The calm of the air carriage ride is suddenly interrupted by flaring surprise, momentary pain, and disorientation through the bond. You all crane your necks to see what may be happening outside when the head of a Ballista bolt, covered in sticky red blood comes blasting through the wall of the air carriage, inches above Sven's head. The air carriage rocks wildly before it stabilizes and begins a rapid decent towards the ground. Nesrin's voice rings in your head, "To the ground my warriors! Tashira Aria converge there!" Quickly followed by a flash of light. Looking out the window you can see an orb of fire streaking towards a clearing. Since you all have nothing else to do but try and take in as much information as you can, you see that the tops of the trees from the northeast move in an unnatural way, as if something is traveling through the trees towards the clearing that the carriage touches down in. Make ready for battle for something is definitely coming. without any sort of preamble Aalrik suddenly shouts," to the Northeast." An arrow already nocked, drawn, and fired before the words finish leaving his mouth. The streaking shaft disappears into the trees, but it is answered by a howl of pain that is soon answered by many more howls.


----------



## Anilar

As the air carriage travelled on to there destination, Eldur tried to relax, tried to get a little sleep or maybe just meditate. But thoughts on what was happening, was going to happen, simply didn't allow him the rest, than he surely would miss in the future. Thoughts on what had happened, what was happening and what might happen. 

A viceroy hive in strength closer to there lands than it had been in centuries. And the Tashiri had been forced to send in many young and inexperienced warriors, like those that was in this carriage. Something that had cost lives, thou Eldur suspected had they send in an army with Tashiri of Nesrin's abilities, that would still have cost lives.

The training, Nesrin had worked extremely hard to train this Qalm into a fighting unit. Not that every Qalm wouldn't go through that kind of training. Somehow Eldur had this feeling that Nesrin had been slightly overzealous about it all, Eldur had not questioned it at the time since he had been exhausted from the constant training, and he wasn't questioning it now, as he sat in the air carriage, on his way to war. Which was what Eldur's kept going back to. 

War!

There hadn't been anything that could be called war in the fortress countries in centuries. Not to Eldur's knowledge, and here he was heading for one. Eldur had not felt so little in control of his life and events, as he did now. But still somehow he was relatively calm, he was flying with his qalm his family. He would fight for them as he knew they would fight for him. And together they would protect the realm of the wood elves. 

Eldur had long hoped to have the chance to see the massive forest of the woodland realm of Caratad, and now he was going to be fighting in it. How would the forest react to his fiery powers, which he had only released on open plains and deserts, inside the vicery hive and training halls. Never in the foliage of and old ancient forest. Which suddenly was there, as Eldur absentmindedly looked out. The massive wild land of the wood elves, simply appeared, no forewarning of moving towards a forest, no light concentration of trees. It was simply now they were in Caratad a wildland of a forest.

Somehow it helped Eldur to focus, getting his mind ready for battle. They were close, soon they would touch down, and together with all the other qalms and the wood elves they would drive the invaders out of the forest. But before Eldur could ask anyone if they knew how long the flight would go on, pain, surprise and disorientation went through the bond.
Split second later the carriage was hit by a massive ballista bolt, which almost took the head of sven. Eldur grapped his spear, thou there was not much he could do in here, trapped in the carriage in the air. He heard Nesrin order them all to the ground, moments later the carriage was quickly moving to the ground, Eldur could see the flying members of the Qalm racing down towards a flaming projectile.

Eldur opened the door in the carriage as they got closer to the ground, so they all could exit quickly upon landing, the enemy would not take them by another surprise. Which also gave Eldur a clearer view, a view of moving treetops, telling something about the enemy they were to face. It was clear they were fast and skilled treeclimbers, and it was quite possible the fight would be on there terms, since the enemy in a way could claim higher ground.
But Eldur had fire at his disposal and was allready going through his options, if they really needed something to keep them safe. Setting treetops on fire, even starting a forest fire, to keep the enemy at bay. Eldur hoped they could do with less.

As the carriage was a few feet above ground, Eldur jumped out, to allow for quicker exit of the others. Eldur held his spear at the ready, slowly heating up his spear, so he would not give too much away about his powers to the enemy, not before he skewered one at least. Aalrik suddenly shouted north east, and as Eldur turned to his warning he saw an arrow disappear into the forest canoply soon after followed by a scream. Which was soon replaced by the howls of the enemy. Eldur kept his eyes on the trees, as he slowly moved to what would make the qalms formation right flank.


----------



## Therizza

The carriage ride proved uneventful for a time, the plains of Borkan beautiful to the eye. The lack of any discernible points of navigation gave Sven pause, the only indication of movement being the sound air rushing past and the occasional cloud formation. Such a glorious sight, after the time spent inside the training halls. Sven was odd in this respect, for though he was of clan-Ironson, he enjoyed all of nature's beauty not solely the solidity of rock.

Resting his head back against the carriage seat, Sven opened a small pouch and withdrew a handful of cured meat and nuts. Taking a hunk out of the meat, Sven couldn't help but feel somewhat bored. It was more a feeling of anxiousness for the upcoming battle he told himself, but he was still trying to deal with the thoughts of what lay ahead. He had never seen a Taroug in the flesh, but had heard tales of their ferocity. Patting Avalanche, Sven chuckled at the thought of how many he would slay when they touched down.

After a time Sven gazed back out the window, and to his dismay the terrain had taken on a twisted nature. They had passed into Caratad, the wilds easy to see. Whereas there should have been beautiful evergreens, the trees had become twisted, unnatural. Whatever had roused the Taroug likely was behind this foul work.

Sven hadn't time to continue with his thought as something flashed across the bond. A ballista bolt, the head of which was as wide as Sven, had plunged through the carriage bulkhead, not a hand's width above Sven's head. Blood and wood splinters showered Sven, who had already jumped instinctively across the carriage. "To the ground my warriors! Tashiri Aria converge there!" Nesrin was shouting orders, sending the warrior contingent to ground as fast as possible. Sven's thoughts rushed, but he remembered his training. A ball of flame streaked past the carriage, which was making best speed to the ground. Sven's thoughts rushed ahead, looking out the window at the fast-approaching ground, looking for any defensible positions or stone outcroppings at what he assumed was their landing zone. 

The carriage landing was not soft, but as they say any landing you walk away from is a good one. Sven smiled at the thought as he rolled out of the carriage, brandishing Avalanche in a defensive stance, ready for what he assumed would be a massed rush of slavering beasts. The worst case scenario was what Sven had mentally prepared for, and it seemed he would see it play out as Aalril had already knocked an arrow. "To the northeast!" his friend shouted, loosing an arrow into the bush as the words left his lips. A howl of pain rang out, followed by a cacophony of beast-noise. 

This was it, a sea of his enemies to be slain for the evil they were. Rushing to Aalrik's side, Sven asked, "How many can you see? Or was that blind fire?" The elf responded, and Sven girded himself for the melee to come. Reaching out through the earth, he called to Asher, the granite bear breaching the ground nearby as if it were water. _There are many. Should I attack?_ "No, Asher, wait. We fight as a team, we must wait for Nesrin's orders."


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## Malochai

Gandogar wasn’t enjoying the flight in the air carriage; it was so far from his beloved ground and the air was thinner than he would have liked. Nevertheless, he maintained a calm composure and repetitively used his whetstone on the broad blades of his axe and occasionally running a thick, calloused thumb down it to test the sharpness. Strings of muttered words, undecipherable even to himself, poured from his mouth and were muted slightly by his intricately cared-for beard as he did so. The sound helped him relax, but not as much as the presence of Torag, who still lay at his feet, head rested on his forepaws. His eyes were slightly dimmed and he hadn’t moved an inch since the air carriage took to the air, but the dwarf felt his presence and knew he was as alert as ever. 

A sigh passed his lips and his thoughts started to run rampant immediately; too much was happening, too soon, to be a coincident. He looked at the members of the Qalm in the carriage and felt his chest constrict. Despite all of the odds, these people were his friends - no, more, his family. Closer than the members of his clan. They fought together. And they fought _well_. He looked out of the carriage, leaving his axe leaning against his legs as he rubbed his temples. Borkan far beneath was like an ocean of crops, and he quickly looked away. At this height, the thought of food was making him feel queasy. But in the corner of his eye, he saw the drastic change as they left Borkan, and entered Caratad. The wilds were untamed, and ... Malevolent. He narrowed his eyes again; something foul was marching, something powerful. His mind turned to dark thoughts again and he felt a spark of feeling from Nesrin; powerful disgust and a hint of surprise that made the lead in his stomach return. 

He returned to his task for a moment, hoping to soothe himself with a familiar task, but his mind wouldn’t be settled, so he leant his axe against the side of the carriage and ran a hand down the manifest Fury’s back, eliciting a torrent of cracking sounds as the obsidian broke apart when Torag shivered. Gandogar smiled slightly, minutely more content than he had been a minute before. And then the world tore apart in pain, fire burning through the Bond and exploding behind his eyes in an orchestra of pain, before stopping, as if a bucket of freezing water had been poured over it. He took a deep breath and looked around, seeing that the others had felt it too - _‘It would have been impossible for them not to!’_ he told himself sternly - as he snatched up his axe and stood, attempting to look out of the carriage and find the reason for the sudden feeling. Torag was on his feet, circling Gandogar and growling deep in his throat, a rumbling sound that could have terrified an ox. His eyes were ablaze and his obsidian coat cracked along ‘fault lines’ to reveal magma bubbling and spitting angrily. 

The dwarf of Tri-Kazelim couldn’t see much out of the carriage, but he heard the ballista bolt shattering the wall, the head covered in viscous red blood. He scowled at it, before almost being thrown off his feet, using Torag for stability as the air carriage rocked.

_*“To the ground my warriors! Tashira Aria converge there!”*_ A blinding light followed and Gandogar, powerless against a foe he couldn’t see, drew furies too him and lightly harnessed their power, so he could call on it at a moment’s notice, and looked out of the carriage to witness fire flying towards the ground beneath him. _‘Where in the hells are we?’_ he asked himself. 

He cursed himself as a fool and turned his attention elsewhere. What did their precise location matter when they had to fight for their lives first? The northeast. _‘Are those trees moving naturally? No ... What is it? How many?’_ he narrowed his eyes, and hefted his axe. 

_*“To the northeast!”*_ he heard from Aalrik and the faint _thwack_ of a bow string being fired, and the whistle of an arrow momentarily, before a howl tore through his mind, followed quickly by more. He loosened the knife he had sheathed at his hip and took a deep breath. _‘Soon.’_ He rubbed a tattoo across his left forearm - three wolves intertwined - and fastened his helmet onto his head, cracking his neck as he did so. 

*“Qalm ... We fight together, yes? Fighting alone is death. Together ... Is life/”* He felt his heart rate settle as he looked around at his adoptive family. He trusted them implicitly. He only hoped he was right too.


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## Midge913

*Update #28*

All: As Nesrin touches down in the middle of the Qalm, you all hear bonechilling howls eminate from the dense woodland around you. Aalrik, whose bow has not stopped humming since his feet left the air carriage, each shaft that streaks into the woodland bringing an abrupt howl of pain, and Fae'en share a look. Aalrik hastily stows his bow and the two wood elves, eyes closed in concentration raise their hands palms out stretched to the woodlands. Nesrin smiles, a knowing smile, and turns, facing the woods behind the two elves. A thrumming noise starts deep in the earth, as if something ancient and massive has awoken, the noise reverberates around the clearing as the trees, the mighty oaks and maples that ring the small open space suddenly spring into motion. Branches whip forward and suddenly the woods around you is full of the sound of screams, bestial and feral. 

It is shortly after this that the first of the Taroug make their way out of the sentient woodland, battered and brusied they come, but with you in their sights a mad hunger takes them, and the charge into battle. 

Eldur (Anilar): You find yourself back to back with Sol, his hands wreathed in flame, a gale of wind swirling around his feet. He smiles and the two of you rush into combat side by side, the heat of your combined fires causing even the battle mad Taroug to flinch before approaching. You and Sol are able to kill a combined total of 8 wolfmen. 6 of your opponents are armed with pairs of long curved knives, two of them, the two that are the most berserk come at you with claws and fangs. Eldur you take a minor wound to your right hand, a gash across the back of your knuckles as one of the knife wielding wolfmen tries to disarm you. Sol also takes a minor wound across the left shoulder. [Anilar I am giving you control of Sol for this post. Take a quick moment to give a quick read to Angel of Blood's character sheet to get a feel for him. If you have any questions get with me either via PM or over MSN.]

Gandogar (Malochai): Darruk rushes by you, eager to get into the fight with the approaching beasts, a small smile on his usually dour face now that fighting has started. He rushes in with a combination of earth and fire, weilded seemlessly together in a dance of absolute fury. His skill has renewed your appreciation for your deep dwelling cousin's skill at arms. Between the two of you, you are able to take down 10 of the Taroug. Unlike the ones that come against Eldur and Sol, these beasts are all cunning, agile, and in control of their formidable strenght and speed. They all wield dual knives. You take a shallow stab wound to your leg, just above your right knee. [As with Anilar I am giving you control of Daruk for the purpose of this update. Take a look at Deathbringers character sheet to familiarize yourself with the character. If you have any questions get with me.]

Therizza: You find yourself, back to back with your great fury Asher, your companions giving you wide berth on the ground. The Taroug are not stupid though, after the first 2 or three of their companions are crushed by your earth fury craft, they play hard to get, darting in and out with a speed that is hard for you to counter. Fortunately Isira and Adam come to assist, darting in and out above the ground harassing another group of 8 Taroug into range of your brutal attacks and Asher's formidable claws. Isira will take out 2, Adam 2 as well, leaving four for you to deal with as the two Tashiri Aria force the Taroug off balance into your clutches. You will come off unscathed, thanks to your use of Stoneform, but Adam will take a pretty good gash across the lower calf, and Isira will have been pulled out of the air before you can kill her assailant. [As with the others you have control of Adam and Isira for the purposes of this update. Work in conjunction with them to take out your opponents. Questions get with me.]


Zacarish (Santaire) & Robb (Lord Ramo): You find yourself to the right of the two wood walkers, their sentient trees doing quite a bit to not only damage the approaching packs of Taroug, but to demoralize them. You rush forward, a whirlwind of steel and air and find that you are flanked by Robb, the expert swordsman adding his his strength and devastating power to your speed and agility. Work in tandem with Robb to take out a total of 9 Taroug. Robb comes away unscathed by virtue of his heavy armor and your speed brings you safely through, a minor bruise starting to blossom over your right eye from an errant wolfman fist.


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## Malochai

Gandogar lifted his axe and rested it against his shoulder, holding onto the shaft with his right hand, glancing around to see if he could hear the source of the noises all around; the howls tried to tear at his nerves, but he steeled himself against it and drew strength from the presence of Torag, who was at his feet, growling constantly. He noticed Nesrin touch the ground in the centre of the Qalm, but he wasn’t the focus of the dwarf’s attention - he had been trained to pay attention to the threat facing him, and Nesrin wasn’t even talking. He heard the vibrations of Aalrik’s bow stop, and then a noise emanated from the earth, causing a flash of concern to cross the dwarf’s face. Gandogar took a deep breath and focussed on the furies about him, wondering if they would give him any indication of what it was. He shook his head and opened his eyes when Torag’s growl deepened. 

The Taroug burst from the thick woodland, charging at the Qalm with a bestial rage and evil snarls rumbling in their throat. Gandogar was preparing to command the Furies he had drawn to himself, putting the perfectly balanced axe on the floor, and placing his roughly calloused hands plam down on the ground. And then Daruk streamed past him, like a charging bull, with his manifest fury at his heels, golden veins shining in his mane. 

*“Damnit,”* he cursed, swearing unintelligibly and changing tactics, lifting a hand and slamming his palm back onto the ground. He focussed on the leading Taroug and narrowed his eyes. The ground around the legs of his chosen enemy rose up and appeared to grip the beasts legs. A scream pierced the air as it’s forward momentum caused its legs to snap. The noise was horrible, but cut off as Daruk’s double-headed axe decapitated the creature, knives falling from dead hands. With that, Gandogar stood and grabbed his axe, hefting it into both hands comfortably as he started to follow his fellow Walker towards their enemy, even as the diamantine teeth of Daruk’s manifest Fury tore another Taroug apart, limbs flying. Tarog had also reached the fray, and leapt forwards, crackling horrifically, front paws slamming home into a Taroug’s chest, knocking it to the ground.

The dog-shaped Fury then left the creature, moving on, and Gandogar stepped forward to decapitate it, axe easily slicing through skin and bone, before becoming embedded deep in the ground from the raw power behind the attack. He swore as he realised what he’d done, cursing his stupidity, and then spun when he felt a presence behind him, and smelt the raw, filthy stench of a lupine-esque creature dwelling outside without care for hygiene, drawing his short-bladed knife and stabbing out, aiming for an eye, but not finding his mark before the Taroug had thrust forward. 

It was only the dwarf’s momentum that stopped the wound from being deeper, the jagged knife of the beast slicing through skin. He shouted, swearing wordlessly, and then called on the Furies and felt strength pour into his arms and shoulders. Placing a single hand on the haft of his axe, the dwarf wrenched it from the hard-packed earth and smiled grimly, facing the horde. Daruk was in the heart of a group of Taroug, several laying dead around him, one with a throwing axe in it’s head, which was cleaved nearly in twain from snout to the base of it's neck, and was leaking putrid brain matter on the woodland floor. The deep dwarf’s axe was coated in gore, and for a second, with Torag keeping his enemies occupied by leaping in and darting back, Gandogar had a second to grasp just how skilled the deep dwarf was. His muscles tensing and relaxing in perfect time so that his blows would not be compromised by them. The blows themselves placed perfectly to kill and maim grievously. It was only at the last second that Gandogar was torn from his inspection of Daruk and swept his axe into the path of a knife, which slammed into the broad head instead of the dwarf’s weapon, and the tremors ran up the startled Taroug's twisted arm. With no hesitation, Gandogar spun on the spot, gaining the momentum he needed to kill with his axe and more, the earth;s strength still infused in his body, and when the blade, needle-sharp from his obsessive use of the whet-stone, hit the Taroug’s side, it cut through fur, flesh and leather straps like a hot knife through butter, shattering bones to minute pieces. Blood pumped out of the wound, watering the ground. Not stopping to appraise his handiwork, or admire his strength - he had done so enough with his great-great-great uncle Glion, and knew what he was capable of. There was no point in standing about when there were foul creatures to kill. The first time he had crushed granite and feldspar, steel and other materials to dust, he had been astounded. He had caught a ghost of a smile on his uncle's mouth, but it had quickly disappeared and he was tasked with more difficult tests. 

Suddenly, Daruk and his Fury were by Gandogar’s side, Torag leaping about and drawing away the attention of a number of Taroug. In unpracticed unison, working as a team, the two dwarves hacked and slashed, killing together. One fell to their combined axes, one from the front and the other from the back, axes simultaneously swinging from both left and right, the perfectly forged blades sinking deep into flesh and tearing muscles with the huge force put behind them. Another fell when Gandogar’s axe cleaved it from naval to neck after his 'cousin' had disarmed it skilfully, and the tenth when Daruk, using the throwing axe he had artfully recovered from the corpse, struck a Taroug in the fur of it's chest, matted with gore and faeces, broken only by the weathered leather straps. The limestone lion Fury leapt on it immediately, the diamond teeth tearing it's throat, and claws through thick skin, copper eyes flashing lifelessly.


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## Therizza

"To me, Asher!" The granite bear leapt from the earth as a whale breaches the ocean waves, its immense weight causing a palpable thud as it crashed to the ground beside Sven. The Tashiri were surrounded in the clearing, though at first the Taroug did not push their numerical advantage. "Beasts! To me! Feel the fury of the Earth!" With that bellowing roar Sven charged at an approaching Taroug warrior. As he sprinted forward, he summoned a step fashioned from stone, and launching himself into the air from it, brought down Avalanche in a earthfury-empowered double overhand stroke. The hammer disintegrated the beast's cranium and as Sven withdrew the weapon from its ruined face, the Taroug's blood spurted and bubbled past its still twitching tongue.

Another rushed to its aid, seeking to catch Sven unawares. If one could feel pity on the beasts, this one would be deserving, as a rage caked over Sven's soul as he swept the creature's legs from under it, bringing his stonefist down like a hammer to anvil on its ribcage. The fist rent clean through the animals chest, shattering its internal organ and ending it's bestial rage in an instant.

"This is too easy, Asher!" Sven yelled out as the granite bear finished ripping one of the wolf-things in two with its mighty jaw. The swarming beasts became wary of the Dwarf's mace, and began feinting on a side as another two would dart, daggers in hand. Sven did his best to parry what attacks he could until he called Asher into a defensive position. 

Isira and Adam, seeing what was unfolding, came to their qualmmate's side. The slowly corralled a group towards the maw that was Sven and Asher, their scimitar and rapier working in unison to whittle the near score down to eight before they were in range of the earth wielder. As the group approached, Isira momentarily stunned a particularly large individual with a blast of wind as she proceeded to thrust her rapier deep into its chest. It's lifesblood gushing out, the beast never saw her backhanded slash, severing the animal's head cleanly. Adam, with a modicum less finesse, rushed a pair of Taroug from behind, using his inhuman speed to outflank them as **** distracted the two with talon and claw. He dispatched one with a up-stroke of his scimitar, unzipping the beast's spinal column before leaping aloft to bring his blade crashing down in a diagonal cut, burying the blade between the neck and shoulder of the second. Blood spurting everywhere, it seemed Adam had overpowered the attack and his blade, lodged in the creature's spine, took a time to dislodge. A Taroug was keen to the assailant's apparent incapacitation and leapt at Adam from the side. 

Nearby, Isira shouted a warning to Adam, who raised his arm in defense as his would be slayer fell upon him. Isira was there in a moment, running the animal through to the hilt, but Adam's leg had taken a bad wound and he was hobbled.

All the while, Sven and Asher were in the midst of the Taroug, rending flesh and breaking bone with every hit that connected. Jabbing one in the snout with the butt of Avalanche, Sven withdrew a throwing axe, hurling it at charging Taroug. The beast fell, axeblade buried to the hilt in its chest, a stunned look upon it's abhorrent visage. Asher dispatched the snout-stunned Taroug, leaping to grab the warrior before plunging into the earth with it firmly in his grasp. As the granite bear could meld into the ground, and the Taroug could not, very little was recognizable when the bear resurfaced. 

Sven saw the last two of this group, larger and fiercer than the rest. "Aye, saving the best for last, are we?" He spat the words as he charged the two, tactics thrown out the window as he was gripped with a rage unseen. Loosing a throwing axe at one, Sven feinted at the warrior on the left, intending to hit his companion. But the Taroug were as fast as they were big, and, deflecting the axe with a twist of a dagger, the beasts tackled the Dwarf to the ground. In the melee, Sven lost grip of Avalanche. Knowing all well he had to call on his training, he summoned his stone form, and not a minute to soon as a blade bounced from his chest. Had he not the training from Nesrin, he surely would have perished there. 

Summoning up his strength, he wrestled the two beasts, Asher roaring but not engaging, fearful of injuring the Dwarf. No matter, as Sven managed to kick one of the Taroug off, while sinking in a chokelock on the other. Gripping his Dwarven hands together, he squeezed as hard as he could, rolling as he did, until he heard the windpipe crush and the spine crack. The beast went limp in his grip. 

Looking up he could see Isira harrying the remaining Taroug from the air, darting in and out, but to no avail. The mighty Taroug leapt at her, timing his flight just right to catch grab her in midair. "Help!" she let out in a panicked tone, and Sven felt her pain from across the bond before the sounds could register. Leaving Avalanche on the ground, there was no time for the weapon. Isira lay with the wind knocked out of her, the beast lording over his prey. Letting out a mighty yell, Sven charged the beast. It turned it's head just in time to receive a stonefist punch to the jaw. The beast's maw hung open, blood and spittle dribbling out. Sven had broken its jaw, enraging the animal thoroughly. "You would bring harm to me!" he yelled, bowling the Taroug over with a punch in the stomach. Ducking a horizontal slash of its dagger, he delivered another blow to its face. "You'd harm these lands!" he spat as he brought his two fists down in an overhand hammerfist. The beast was wobbling, sucking air and emitting what sounded like a whimper. "No longer! You're days are finished!" As he said the last words, he grasped the animal by the head, and summoning a stone spike from the ground, plunged the creatures head onto it. 

Sven helped Isira to her feet and threw one of Adam's arms over his shoulder. Returning to Avalanche, he grasped the weapon in his free hand. The granite bear Asher watched their backs as they formed a defensive circle. Sven had not yet begun to fight.


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## Santaire

As Zacarish flew with the ground passing beneath him he could not help but feel a sense of unease at the events that had taken place. Vicery in unprecedented numbers, Taroug besieging Caratad. Evil was stirring; he could feel it in his bones. The fact that this feeling was partly from the bond, even some of it from Nesrin himself did nothing for Zacarish’s confidence.

Below him the seas of grain rippled in the wind and the fields seemed to go on forever. The only difference in the otherwise blank landscape were the tiny farming buildings that came and passed below. It was difficult for Zacarish to stay focussed as the featureless landscape stretched ever onwards beneath him and he found his mind slipping into the monotony of constant flight. Though they had set out at dawn, it was midday when Zacarish woke himself from his stupor, but still the landscape had not changed.

Boredom set in; overcoming even the sense of dread that Zacarish had felt earlier. The Furies, that were more of a comfort to him than an army of 1000 warriors would be, coursed through his soul and filled him with energy and yet still he was lulled to a sense of complacency by the blank landscape. With nothing else to do, he reflected on his lessons, not those on the blade but those on the mind. His anger, his black rage that he feared so much. He wondered on the talks of people becoming hermits to conquer such a flaw, but he was not so selfish. As long as he was needed, he would fight and perhaps he would keep fighting when he was not. Perhaps he would become addicted to the bloodshed. He hoped Nesrin would kill him if that ever happened.

The change in the landscape was so abrupt, Zacarish did not even notice it until he had already crossed it. Zacarish had flown in that area during his training, but the change left him astonished. The conifers that once graved the land had been replaced with twisted and corrupt evergreens and Zacarish felt a mirror of his own disgust and honour from Nesrin, increasing his anxiety. What manner of power could twist the very land in such a way?

Zacarish’s contemplation ended a few moments later.

He was the rearguard, his eyes scanning the horizon and he saw the bolt coming for him. He threw a hand out to the right and blasted himself sideways, rolling in the air to dodge the incoming missile. He traced the path of the projectile back to the treetops.

He could see the movement in the trees, bounding from branch to branch after the air carriage.

He could feel the shock and anger from the rest of his Qalm and Nesrin’s voice screamed in his head, drawing his attention to a landing zone with a ball of flame. It was a clearing, ringed by mammoth Fir trees. Zacarish could see the movement in the trees, heading straight for the clearing. But far more important than that was the moment, just before he touched down, when he saw the beings springing through the trees, moving to ambush them. “Ready yourselves,” he called through the bond. “They’re surrounding us.”

As Nesrin touched down in the middle of our defensive ring howls echoed from the forest.

Aalrik fired arrows at the sources of the howls and they were cut off by yelps of pain. The Wood Elves, Aalrik and Fae’en, shared a look and both stretched their hands to the forest around them. Nesrin joined them with a knowing smile and the forest woke, its branches whipping and filling the wood with feral screams. The Taroug left the wood shortly afterward, bruised and battered but enraged and they charged.

Zacarish began to walk forwards towards the enraged but demoralized Taroug, not even drawing his sword. He called to the Furies, let them flow through him and the three disks of Caldrite rose around him, spinning faster and faster. He raised his left arm and the vambrace that protected it extended a whip. He span the whip and began to run for the Taroug. The first one charged head on to meet him and he raised his right hand, pulling it onto one of his shields with the Furies. The spinning disk of metal sliced its throat as if it were parchment and Zacarish hit it with a flying kick that sent it hurtling backwards and pulled the shield free with its force.

The next Taroug almost got a blow in but reacted with stunned surprise as its attack was knocked aside by a blur of metal and howled in agony as Zacarish thrust his sword through its chest, ripping the blade free in a spray of blood and twisting, falling to his knees, to bring it round at the knee level of the next Taroug to charge him. But this one was smarter than its predecessors and caught his blade with a knife large enough to be a sword. The vibration knocked Zacarish’s sword from his hands but he pressed his right hand to the Taroug’s right leg and sent a pulse of air from his palm, sending the Taroug flying as its leg was forced from under it. It fell and Zacarish caught it’s down coming body with an upwards slash of his whip. He sharpened the whip edge as he did so, something that was exceedingly difficult to do while in motion.

The metal wrapped around the Taroug’s neck and squeezed and Zacarish dived for his sword as the wolf man roared in pain. The Dark Elf came up with his sword swinging and sliced the Taroug in two from hip to shoulder.

A fist swung at him from the side and knocked him clean over. It would leave a bruise he knew, but he was more concerned about the fist’s owner who even now attempted to drive a dagger into his heart. He caught the blow with his sword and kicked upwards, between the Taroug’s legs. It doubled over in pain and Zacarish drove his sword into its heart, twisting the blade in the wound and rolling away.

He stood and wrenched his sword free, turning to face a Taroug. It threw itself at him, bearing him to the ground. He blasted it with a pulse of air that smashed its chest, but though it was flung off him it still climbed back to its feet with a rusty dagger in its right hand. I was nowhere near fast enough to avoid it, still dazed as I was. As it raised the dagger above me a length of shining, bloody steel erupted from its chest. Robb pushed it to its knees and ripped his sword free before pulling me to my feet.


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