The deer she'd caught now sizzled over the fire, the man she cared for more than life itself was at her back. Yes, life was good... for now. Thrusting the thought to the side she turned and smiled at her mate. Yes, she now freely accepted the idea within her mind, though it still brought a small wave of panic which she'd always shove to the side. She trusted Jerial, more than she could ever comprehend.
He rose and embraced her, her hand resting on his heart, and when he kissed her she returned the passion. She smiled into his liquid-silver eyes, delighting in the fact that they smiled for her. She hadn't liked the stone-cold look that he'd had while in the cave. The fact that he had not bid the creature a farewell hadn't surprised her, though she'd said her goodbyes and thank-you's quickly while being all but dragged out the entrance.
Now, as they broke camp, Fay looked forward to revenge. So much so she asked Jerial to change into his phoenix form and take flight to hasten their progress. Shifted to her half form, their bags slung over her back in saddle-bag fashion Fay all but flew across the landscape, occasionally glancing up at Jerial to be sure they were headed in the right direction. Occasionally he would land on her back to rest, which did not bother Fay, she simply continued running, only stopping when her legs threatened to give out.
They covered more ground than Fay could have hoped to dream. So much so, in fact, that she could now smell (even if faintly) the stench of the murders by the early evening. Fay paced as Jerial cooked this time, as she was unable to sit still, her blood lust rising occasionally only to be forced down. Soon, she told herself soon I shall drink the blood of the ones who destroyed all I held dear.
Sleep was plagued by nightmares, and soon she simply all but gave up, huddling as close to Jerial as she could to stave off further discomforts. His arm around her waist chased away the worst of the demons that plagued her mind... but even still she remained awake to keep watch over the night.
Morning came, camp was broke quickly and efficiently, and soon Fay was off running again, Jerial now on her back in his elven form. It'd taken a bit of convincing on his behalf. While he hadn't wanted to wear her out, it became apparent that it would be best if he were able to throw his bolts should the bandits spot them before they spot the bandits. Fay followed the scent of her enemies, her prey, and carried her future on her back. Nothing would stop her now.
Magic and Mayhem
Re: Magic and Mayhem
Jerial found it slightly odd that Fay would choose to carry him in his human form, but she obviously was able, and he would be able to look out better than she. When she stopped and shed the bags, he slid down with them, landing on his feet in a crouch. He stood smoothly in almost the same motion. He sighed, suddenly tired from...he had no reason; but he was fatigued slightly from whatever had lessened his strength.
Even as the thoughts roamed in his mind, he heard a whistle from his left. He ducked instinctively, and an arrow buzzed through the air his head had occupied less than a second ago. His staff shone for a second and was his sword, which he brandished as he stepped toward the source of the deadly shaft. His stride emanated purpose and confidence, which he hoped would unnerve the enemy into making a mistake as the inevitable fight began. He did not have to wait long for another arrow to whizz toward him. Surprising himself, he ducked and swung the sword, and made contact with the arrow, sending it sweeping to the ground.
As soon as the thump of his blade hit the ground, a shape stumbled out of the bush not two feet from him. Without thinking or aiming, Jerial thrust forward with his sword toward the shape. He felt the blade meet flesh and bone, and the next thing he knew, he was standing with his sword to the throat of a man. panting heavily and grabbing his side where Jerial had struck him. Jerial was breathing almost as hard; cold, fatigue-easing adrenaline coursed through his veins.
Another arrow from the same direction as the last ones came toward him; before he could react, it was upon him. Thank goodness the archer was attempting to focus on stealth and not accuracy, for the arrow only struck his arm. However, the arrow sliced a biceps, burning encompassing his entire shoulder. The bleeding was not life-threatening, but the attack had given his downed opponent the time to rise and flee, jogging painfully.
Jerial carefully began pursuit of the assailants, searching the foliage for any sign of the archer.
Even as the thoughts roamed in his mind, he heard a whistle from his left. He ducked instinctively, and an arrow buzzed through the air his head had occupied less than a second ago. His staff shone for a second and was his sword, which he brandished as he stepped toward the source of the deadly shaft. His stride emanated purpose and confidence, which he hoped would unnerve the enemy into making a mistake as the inevitable fight began. He did not have to wait long for another arrow to whizz toward him. Surprising himself, he ducked and swung the sword, and made contact with the arrow, sending it sweeping to the ground.
As soon as the thump of his blade hit the ground, a shape stumbled out of the bush not two feet from him. Without thinking or aiming, Jerial thrust forward with his sword toward the shape. He felt the blade meet flesh and bone, and the next thing he knew, he was standing with his sword to the throat of a man. panting heavily and grabbing his side where Jerial had struck him. Jerial was breathing almost as hard; cold, fatigue-easing adrenaline coursed through his veins.
Another arrow from the same direction as the last ones came toward him; before he could react, it was upon him. Thank goodness the archer was attempting to focus on stealth and not accuracy, for the arrow only struck his arm. However, the arrow sliced a biceps, burning encompassing his entire shoulder. The bleeding was not life-threatening, but the attack had given his downed opponent the time to rise and flee, jogging painfully.
Jerial carefully began pursuit of the assailants, searching the foliage for any sign of the archer.
Re: Magic and Mayhem
As soon as Jerial slid off, Fay shifted. Fully a fox she flickered from sight, weaving through the underbrush to where she scented the enemy. She found him, just as another arrow twanged off its string. The resulting blood she smelt destroyed her sense of calm that she had managed to pull over her senses. They spilled the blood of her mate. Snarling, human, Fay moved and sliced several vital arteries, incapacitated the archer, and left him to bleed to death, screaming in agony.
Silver streaked from the bush to attack another taking aim at Jerial, her deft blades quickly ridding him of his hands, his throat bleeding down his front as he chocked. On she flew, covering Jerial as he raced after what she soon realized was an important member. Be he the leader or a spy, Fay didn't care. They would all die. Blood lust rose again and this time she welcomed it. Fangs and claws grew subconsciously even as red rimmed her eyes. Heart beats sounded in her ears and quickly she singled out Jerials. I will not harm this one. I will protect him.
The other's, however, were as good as dead. She flashed alongside, behind, in front of Jerial, her blades drawing the blood of all who intended to do him harm. Screams of slow and agonizing deaths rang around them, but all Fay could see was the sea of crimson and heart the heartbeats of those who still lived. Those who would receive her own form of judgement for the wrongs of their past. The ghost of her Father roared in her ear.
"Kill them, Fayane, kill those who killed us." Her mother begged alongside him as Fayane slew, tears streaming down her face. She could see no more, could see only blood and the faces of her mother and father.
"Jerial! Please hear and heed me!" Fay shrieked, her blade slaying another. "Do not come near me, do not touch me, do not seek me... for all I can see are the damned." She couldn't hear the agony in her own words, only the pleas of her parents.
"I would not wish to lose you to my own blade." Hell - Fay did not know if she even said this aloud. Praying with the last sane part of her mind that he had heard her, Fay's deadly dance quickened, the stench of the bandits in her nose, their blood in her eyes, her parents pleas within chorus to the bandit's dying screams. Below it all she avoided the one heartbeat she swore to protect, because even in the throes of blood lust, she could not lose her heart.
Silver streaked from the bush to attack another taking aim at Jerial, her deft blades quickly ridding him of his hands, his throat bleeding down his front as he chocked. On she flew, covering Jerial as he raced after what she soon realized was an important member. Be he the leader or a spy, Fay didn't care. They would all die. Blood lust rose again and this time she welcomed it. Fangs and claws grew subconsciously even as red rimmed her eyes. Heart beats sounded in her ears and quickly she singled out Jerials. I will not harm this one. I will protect him.
The other's, however, were as good as dead. She flashed alongside, behind, in front of Jerial, her blades drawing the blood of all who intended to do him harm. Screams of slow and agonizing deaths rang around them, but all Fay could see was the sea of crimson and heart the heartbeats of those who still lived. Those who would receive her own form of judgement for the wrongs of their past. The ghost of her Father roared in her ear.
"Kill them, Fayane, kill those who killed us." Her mother begged alongside him as Fayane slew, tears streaming down her face. She could see no more, could see only blood and the faces of her mother and father.
"Jerial! Please hear and heed me!" Fay shrieked, her blade slaying another. "Do not come near me, do not touch me, do not seek me... for all I can see are the damned." She couldn't hear the agony in her own words, only the pleas of her parents.
"I would not wish to lose you to my own blade." Hell - Fay did not know if she even said this aloud. Praying with the last sane part of her mind that he had heard her, Fay's deadly dance quickened, the stench of the bandits in her nose, their blood in her eyes, her parents pleas within chorus to the bandit's dying screams. Below it all she avoided the one heartbeat she swore to protect, because even in the throes of blood lust, she could not lose her heart.
Re: Magic and Mayhem
Jerial could do nothing but watch Fay take down the men, the ones that were so similarly garbed to the one they had slain in Shim. Her steely blades whirled through the air so fast his eyes could not track them. It was well that he should stay out of her way; Jerial turned to walk back to their original stopping place to await her return to normalcy.
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow. He paused just long enough to allow one of the only men to escape Fayane's wrath. It was surprising to him that any would escape her, but this one had, or she had let him go for an inexplicable reason. He was a heavy man, oddly heavy for a highwayman, and bore an odd resemblance to someone he knew, but he could not place it. Thinking was quite hard with a knife in the hollow of one's throat.
He smiled at the man, who was doubtlessly planning to steal him away to lure Fay into a trap.
I see no reason for you to be smiling.
Trust me. You'll like it.
Jerial shifted faster than the man could react, grabbing the bearded bandit's face with his claws and fanning his wings around his head, keeping Jerial aloft and burning the man's face. He released a cry like that of a hawk and pulled, turning over and flying away. He had not meant for the shriek to be intimidating; he had meant it to cover the sound of the man's death screams, as his death would be quite painful unless Fay came to end his misery, and Jerial needed no distractions.
He flew up high above the treetops, the wind feeding his flames and chilling him slightly. He turned again now to face the area where the men had attacked, and, making sure Fay was safe, banked and quickly scanned the area for more of the brigands. He saw that there were none.
Mating with her was not a folly after all, the voice said contemplatively, but somewhat admiringly.
Hmph, was Jerial's indignant reply. He had known. At least, he had suspected. But now he knew.
The unremarkable movement in the forest below would mean nothing to a casual observer, but Jerial's keen hawk's eye had spotted it and recognized it as humanoid. He sighed inwardly, which he noticed he did often lately, and resentfully banked to dive toward the ground. The dive somehow transmuted his disdain into irritation, and his dive became a little too fast. Nevertheless, he swooped down below the trees, landing in a crouch in half-form.
The miscalculated dive had cost him: his wrist protested his weight, and Jerial rocked back off of it, keeping his sword in a ready position. His eyes searched his surroundings while his mind probed the extent of damage to his wrist. It was not broken, only twisted, and he shook it, which unwittingly aggravated the wound in his shoulder. That arm would be of negligible use in a fight.
Jerial continued to sweep his surroundings, his trained eyes seeing things no human could readily detect. However, there was no sign of the movement he had detected before. He slowly raised himself into a standing position, tucking his injured arm to his side.
He whipped around, wincing at the sudden pain in his shoulder, as he heard a chuckle pierce the relative silence.
"You, see, Cerion! He is wounded in his weapon arm. Even if he was one of the brigands, he would not put up a fight to threaten me. Now take us out of this forsaken veil!" A voice to match the chuckle had followed it, and out of a shimmer even he had not noticed stood two humans. The voice had sounded contemptuous, even cocky.
Ignorant boy. He has no idea. Fay taught you to fight with your left, did she not? Quite well, I might add. Good show.
Aye. Last winter, I would have been fodder. As if to answer himself, he brandished the sword in a way that showed his competence with his off hand. This was frivolous, but it was a fitting answer to solidify the voice's claim.
"You." He nodded at one of the newly appeared men, then the other. "And you. What be your business here? I see you are not garbed as a brigand, but looks can be deceiving. However, I shall give you benefit of my doubt. I am Jerial Malkyralas, and I am coming to Keir to commune with the Society of the Changed. Near here is my mate, Fayane. She has accompanied me to, well," he chuckled as he said this, "to kill these men. We believe they are of the selfsame sect as one that murdered her mother when she was but a child. But enough of me. What be your business here?"
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow. He paused just long enough to allow one of the only men to escape Fayane's wrath. It was surprising to him that any would escape her, but this one had, or she had let him go for an inexplicable reason. He was a heavy man, oddly heavy for a highwayman, and bore an odd resemblance to someone he knew, but he could not place it. Thinking was quite hard with a knife in the hollow of one's throat.
He smiled at the man, who was doubtlessly planning to steal him away to lure Fay into a trap.
I see no reason for you to be smiling.
Trust me. You'll like it.
Jerial shifted faster than the man could react, grabbing the bearded bandit's face with his claws and fanning his wings around his head, keeping Jerial aloft and burning the man's face. He released a cry like that of a hawk and pulled, turning over and flying away. He had not meant for the shriek to be intimidating; he had meant it to cover the sound of the man's death screams, as his death would be quite painful unless Fay came to end his misery, and Jerial needed no distractions.
He flew up high above the treetops, the wind feeding his flames and chilling him slightly. He turned again now to face the area where the men had attacked, and, making sure Fay was safe, banked and quickly scanned the area for more of the brigands. He saw that there were none.
Mating with her was not a folly after all, the voice said contemplatively, but somewhat admiringly.
Hmph, was Jerial's indignant reply. He had known. At least, he had suspected. But now he knew.
The unremarkable movement in the forest below would mean nothing to a casual observer, but Jerial's keen hawk's eye had spotted it and recognized it as humanoid. He sighed inwardly, which he noticed he did often lately, and resentfully banked to dive toward the ground. The dive somehow transmuted his disdain into irritation, and his dive became a little too fast. Nevertheless, he swooped down below the trees, landing in a crouch in half-form.
The miscalculated dive had cost him: his wrist protested his weight, and Jerial rocked back off of it, keeping his sword in a ready position. His eyes searched his surroundings while his mind probed the extent of damage to his wrist. It was not broken, only twisted, and he shook it, which unwittingly aggravated the wound in his shoulder. That arm would be of negligible use in a fight.
Jerial continued to sweep his surroundings, his trained eyes seeing things no human could readily detect. However, there was no sign of the movement he had detected before. He slowly raised himself into a standing position, tucking his injured arm to his side.
He whipped around, wincing at the sudden pain in his shoulder, as he heard a chuckle pierce the relative silence.
"You, see, Cerion! He is wounded in his weapon arm. Even if he was one of the brigands, he would not put up a fight to threaten me. Now take us out of this forsaken veil!" A voice to match the chuckle had followed it, and out of a shimmer even he had not noticed stood two humans. The voice had sounded contemptuous, even cocky.
Ignorant boy. He has no idea. Fay taught you to fight with your left, did she not? Quite well, I might add. Good show.
Aye. Last winter, I would have been fodder. As if to answer himself, he brandished the sword in a way that showed his competence with his off hand. This was frivolous, but it was a fitting answer to solidify the voice's claim.
"You." He nodded at one of the newly appeared men, then the other. "And you. What be your business here? I see you are not garbed as a brigand, but looks can be deceiving. However, I shall give you benefit of my doubt. I am Jerial Malkyralas, and I am coming to Keir to commune with the Society of the Changed. Near here is my mate, Fayane. She has accompanied me to, well," he chuckled as he said this, "to kill these men. We believe they are of the selfsame sect as one that murdered her mother when she was but a child. But enough of me. What be your business here?"
Re: Magic and Mayhem
The pair stood before the male shifter that they had been told of. The hater of the Puradyne's. He spoke of his mate, though Cerion did not recall that bit being mentioned in the message. He turned to Kado.
"I believe this is one of the shifters mentioned in the message." Cerion eyed the wiry male, unsure as to how to go about this. He could be blunt, say that they had been told of his hate of the Puradyne's and of the growing rebellion in Marn that they have heard rumors of. Or... he could dance around the topic like a fool. No, he would question the elf. He opened his mouth to question him when a bloody woman appeared before them, wielding twin blades and shielding the male.
"You... you will not... will not harm... him."
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Blood... so much blood. Fay's thoughts whirled, settling. The blood had been the first thing she'd noticed. The second that among the pile of bodies, Jerial's was nowhere to be found. She heaved a sigh of relief before raising her nose to the air, sniffing. She scented him, far enough away that it soothed her fears. She had not harmed him.
She turned to go to him, only to grunt and fall, her body screaming in protest. What...? She looked down and winced. Cuts, some deep, some not, littered her body. All them them, she knew, had landed by chance; even still it bruised her ego.
Panting she forced herself to stand, swaying, and stagger her way to Jerial. While she knew he knew no healing magics, he knew how to bandage wounds. It was then that she heard the new voices, heard Jerial himself flourish his blade, the steel singing through the air.
Swearing she raced forward, pain and exhaustion forgotten, to defend her mate. There he stood, calm as anything, wielding his blade in his left hand, his right dangling uselessly. There, the strangers, two of them looking as calm as anything. Moving fast she flashed to stand in front of Jerial, covered in blood and panting for breath. She would have attacked, but she could barely move, her body shaking from exhaustion.
"You... you will not... will not harm... him." Fay gasped at the two shocked men. Everything screamed for her to just drop - give up but she couldn't; she would not, could not stop loving or protecting her mate.
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The two males stared at this woman, who was clearly on her last wind, shaking and bleeding. The mate, Cerion assumed, shocked and a little awed by the woman. He then remembered the male's words.
"You... you fought those bandits... alone?" Cerion inquired even as Kado scoffed. The woman's eyes narrowed, but she nodded stiffly.
"They murdered my family." She said by way of explanation, crimson dripping down her face. Vaguely Cerion wondered what her true hair color was... because it surely could not be its current crimson. Shoving the thought aside Cerion nodded in sympathy even as her mate came forward slightly to wrap his good arm around her waist.
They saw him murmur something in her ear, saw her eye them sceptically. Cerion then guessed what the miniature conversation had involved.
"Kado put that away." Cerion said, indicating his claymore. "It's obvious these are the shifters that were described in the message. If both are as so strong as to take out the bandits, then perhaps we could use their assistance against the Puradyne's..."
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
She saw their fear, suspected their awe, and could not care less. Just so long as-
"You... you fought those bandits... alone?" She considered the question, before nodding. Just another method of intimidation. Feeling that insufficiant, she added:
"They murdered my family." Surely if she could take down a group of slimy bandits for her family, she could take out two humans who threatened her mate... though she didn't like the looks of that claymore. Her legs threatened to give out, and Jerial must have seen it.
"Fayane, if they wanted to do us harm, they would have attacked us by now." He murmured, voice soft, his good arm supporting the weight her frame could no longer lift. When the large man put the claymore away at his companion's bequest, Fay felt her knees give out and her blades drop. Exhaustion swept over her and everything went black.
"I believe this is one of the shifters mentioned in the message." Cerion eyed the wiry male, unsure as to how to go about this. He could be blunt, say that they had been told of his hate of the Puradyne's and of the growing rebellion in Marn that they have heard rumors of. Or... he could dance around the topic like a fool. No, he would question the elf. He opened his mouth to question him when a bloody woman appeared before them, wielding twin blades and shielding the male.
"You... you will not... will not harm... him."
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
Blood... so much blood. Fay's thoughts whirled, settling. The blood had been the first thing she'd noticed. The second that among the pile of bodies, Jerial's was nowhere to be found. She heaved a sigh of relief before raising her nose to the air, sniffing. She scented him, far enough away that it soothed her fears. She had not harmed him.
She turned to go to him, only to grunt and fall, her body screaming in protest. What...? She looked down and winced. Cuts, some deep, some not, littered her body. All them them, she knew, had landed by chance; even still it bruised her ego.
Panting she forced herself to stand, swaying, and stagger her way to Jerial. While she knew he knew no healing magics, he knew how to bandage wounds. It was then that she heard the new voices, heard Jerial himself flourish his blade, the steel singing through the air.
Swearing she raced forward, pain and exhaustion forgotten, to defend her mate. There he stood, calm as anything, wielding his blade in his left hand, his right dangling uselessly. There, the strangers, two of them looking as calm as anything. Moving fast she flashed to stand in front of Jerial, covered in blood and panting for breath. She would have attacked, but she could barely move, her body shaking from exhaustion.
"You... you will not... will not harm... him." Fay gasped at the two shocked men. Everything screamed for her to just drop - give up but she couldn't; she would not, could not stop loving or protecting her mate.
____________________________________________________________________________________________
The two males stared at this woman, who was clearly on her last wind, shaking and bleeding. The mate, Cerion assumed, shocked and a little awed by the woman. He then remembered the male's words.
"You... you fought those bandits... alone?" Cerion inquired even as Kado scoffed. The woman's eyes narrowed, but she nodded stiffly.
"They murdered my family." She said by way of explanation, crimson dripping down her face. Vaguely Cerion wondered what her true hair color was... because it surely could not be its current crimson. Shoving the thought aside Cerion nodded in sympathy even as her mate came forward slightly to wrap his good arm around her waist.
They saw him murmur something in her ear, saw her eye them sceptically. Cerion then guessed what the miniature conversation had involved.
"Kado put that away." Cerion said, indicating his claymore. "It's obvious these are the shifters that were described in the message. If both are as so strong as to take out the bandits, then perhaps we could use their assistance against the Puradyne's..."
_____________________________________________________________________________________________
She saw their fear, suspected their awe, and could not care less. Just so long as-
"You... you fought those bandits... alone?" She considered the question, before nodding. Just another method of intimidation. Feeling that insufficiant, she added:
"They murdered my family." Surely if she could take down a group of slimy bandits for her family, she could take out two humans who threatened her mate... though she didn't like the looks of that claymore. Her legs threatened to give out, and Jerial must have seen it.
"Fayane, if they wanted to do us harm, they would have attacked us by now." He murmured, voice soft, his good arm supporting the weight her frame could no longer lift. When the large man put the claymore away at his companion's bequest, Fay felt her knees give out and her blades drop. Exhaustion swept over her and everything went black.
Re: Magic and Mayhem
Jerial had been riding for hours now, and he wished to stop for the night. He had been speaking with the pair of humans for what seemed like it must have been an age, and he had to admit, they were more worthy of his respect than any other humans he had met since his youth. Aside from Fay, of course.
He put his hand back to check on her. Poor thing; she had passed out from her wounds and Cerion had to stitch her up. Most of her wounds were minor, but the amount of blood lost was such that Cerion used most of the energy he had replacing lost blood, and Kado had to stitch her up without the use of magic. Jerial had freely admitted that he knew no healing magic; Cerion had resolved to teach him the rudimentary basics in the near future.
To his surprise, Fay's hand grasped his own, squeezing it to tell him she was indeed awake. "Stop!" he said, a little too loudly, as he reined in his horse, who had been running at a gallop. The horse whinnied in disapproval and almost bucked, causing Jerial to reach his whole arm back to try to catch her if she fell. It almost made him fall as well, but the horse calmed. Jerial motioned for Kado to come forth to carry Fay down from off the horse. Kado complied, and Jerial followed his mate down to the ground. He stumbled for a second. He had not noticed just how fatigued he was from the journey.
He quickly followed Kado to where he was already laying Fay down to rest on the blankets Cerion had readily spread. He crouched by her; his eyes searched her face and his hand came to rest on her cheek. How sweet. If I were writing an epic, this would be the place to insert the rising chorus, the tears, the realization that you never loved her more. For some reason, the voices had turned malevolent since the fight with the bandits. He scowled and shut off that part of his consciousness, and bowed his head slightly, a smile replacing the scowl, as he realized the voice was probably right.
Fay looked around, realizing she was not where she had expected to be. Finding Jerial's eyes, she asked, "Where are we? I-I thought we were in Keir."
"These men received a message from a woman named Saruna. It seems that Marn is about to become a dangerous place: the people are hearing the rumblings of rebellion among themselves. This woman pleaded with whomever received the message to escort Fayane Tyme to Marn, along with any she might be with, back there to join the rebellion against the government." He nodded toward the pair of men, watching with interest. "They just want to kill something."
He put his hand back to check on her. Poor thing; she had passed out from her wounds and Cerion had to stitch her up. Most of her wounds were minor, but the amount of blood lost was such that Cerion used most of the energy he had replacing lost blood, and Kado had to stitch her up without the use of magic. Jerial had freely admitted that he knew no healing magic; Cerion had resolved to teach him the rudimentary basics in the near future.
To his surprise, Fay's hand grasped his own, squeezing it to tell him she was indeed awake. "Stop!" he said, a little too loudly, as he reined in his horse, who had been running at a gallop. The horse whinnied in disapproval and almost bucked, causing Jerial to reach his whole arm back to try to catch her if she fell. It almost made him fall as well, but the horse calmed. Jerial motioned for Kado to come forth to carry Fay down from off the horse. Kado complied, and Jerial followed his mate down to the ground. He stumbled for a second. He had not noticed just how fatigued he was from the journey.
He quickly followed Kado to where he was already laying Fay down to rest on the blankets Cerion had readily spread. He crouched by her; his eyes searched her face and his hand came to rest on her cheek. How sweet. If I were writing an epic, this would be the place to insert the rising chorus, the tears, the realization that you never loved her more. For some reason, the voices had turned malevolent since the fight with the bandits. He scowled and shut off that part of his consciousness, and bowed his head slightly, a smile replacing the scowl, as he realized the voice was probably right.
Fay looked around, realizing she was not where she had expected to be. Finding Jerial's eyes, she asked, "Where are we? I-I thought we were in Keir."
"These men received a message from a woman named Saruna. It seems that Marn is about to become a dangerous place: the people are hearing the rumblings of rebellion among themselves. This woman pleaded with whomever received the message to escort Fayane Tyme to Marn, along with any she might be with, back there to join the rebellion against the government." He nodded toward the pair of men, watching with interest. "They just want to kill something."
Re: Magic and Mayhem
When she came to, she was bouncing against Jerial, a rope around her waist the only thing that was keeping her from falling. Confused she opened her eyes painfully, only to hear the galloping hooves of a horse. She saw Jerials hand arch back slightly and rest on her thigh. Tired and seeking comfort Fay reached forward and grasped his hand, causing the elf to bellow for a halt.
Still exhausted and feeling sick from... whatever, the next bit was a blur; but the next thing she knew, she was on her back on a pile of blankets, Jerial's hand cupping her face. Blearily she sought his face, somehow meeting his eyes. Her first question, naturally was:
"Where are we? I-I thought we were in Keir." The last bit had slipped out as an afraid after-thought. She'd noticed the not-so-hostile pair, blearily, and wondered why she and Jerial weren't dead. She listened to his explanation, nodding weakly. Seemed logical enough until-
"Saruna?" The shifter bolted upright before falling back with a grunt. She gasped for air, apparently her wounds were slow to heal this time around. She ground her teeth before forcing herself to sit up again, ignoring Jerial trying to push her down again.
"Saruna has sought my return to Marn?" She asked through gritted teeth. "How did she know? I hadn't spoke to her in awhile..." Thinking of it shot a twang of guilt through her heart. She missed the older woman, and really should have visited her as she'd hurt her so much. But how did she- leaving.
When Fay was leaving the city with Jerial and they were swapping stories, Saruna had come up. Someone (or perhaps herself?) may have overheard the tale. Hell for all she knew one of the guards had told the older woman out of courtesy as they knew she'd befriended her.
And now... now she needed Fay. Fay closed her eyes before opening them to peer into Jerial's own. She smiled and lifted her hand to his cheek. "It looks like, my love, I must ask you of yet another favor."
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With Fay now sat in front of Jerial, the group rode hard to Marn. Her eyes were set forward, her body nestled against Jerials. Her eyes narrowed. Despite the fact it was Saruna that had summoned her - something didn't feel right. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something off about this. For now, however, it would have to work. Saruna needed her either way, and either way she would rise to the call.
For now... however, Fay thought to herself gritting her teeth as a pain seared up her side, I need to get to a healer that ISN'T drained...
Still exhausted and feeling sick from... whatever, the next bit was a blur; but the next thing she knew, she was on her back on a pile of blankets, Jerial's hand cupping her face. Blearily she sought his face, somehow meeting his eyes. Her first question, naturally was:
"Where are we? I-I thought we were in Keir." The last bit had slipped out as an afraid after-thought. She'd noticed the not-so-hostile pair, blearily, and wondered why she and Jerial weren't dead. She listened to his explanation, nodding weakly. Seemed logical enough until-
"Saruna?" The shifter bolted upright before falling back with a grunt. She gasped for air, apparently her wounds were slow to heal this time around. She ground her teeth before forcing herself to sit up again, ignoring Jerial trying to push her down again.
"Saruna has sought my return to Marn?" She asked through gritted teeth. "How did she know? I hadn't spoke to her in awhile..." Thinking of it shot a twang of guilt through her heart. She missed the older woman, and really should have visited her as she'd hurt her so much. But how did she- leaving.
When Fay was leaving the city with Jerial and they were swapping stories, Saruna had come up. Someone (or perhaps herself?) may have overheard the tale. Hell for all she knew one of the guards had told the older woman out of courtesy as they knew she'd befriended her.
And now... now she needed Fay. Fay closed her eyes before opening them to peer into Jerial's own. She smiled and lifted her hand to his cheek. "It looks like, my love, I must ask you of yet another favor."
___________________________________________________________________________________________
With Fay now sat in front of Jerial, the group rode hard to Marn. Her eyes were set forward, her body nestled against Jerials. Her eyes narrowed. Despite the fact it was Saruna that had summoned her - something didn't feel right. She couldn't put her finger on it, but there was something off about this. For now, however, it would have to work. Saruna needed her either way, and either way she would rise to the call.
For now... however, Fay thought to herself gritting her teeth as a pain seared up her side, I need to get to a healer that ISN'T drained...