Spirits of the Earth

The silent steps of two solitary travelers. Wind, ruffling the thick fur, lining their capes. Snow, crunching under their heavy boots was all that could be heard, along with their breaths, creating clouds of mist before their faces.

Anoriel sighed. "Athran, please, stop... I can't continue..." she pleaded him. They have been going for a day already, and she needed a break. Athran, however, only shook his head, peering at the frozen fields of ice on the surface of the sea. "We can't stop. We must continue. There's not enough food and nothing to hunt anywhere near. We have to go on... Come on. I'll take your bag." he replied, and reached out to take the bundle of things at her back.

The elf-maiden shook her head. "No. I only need a short while... Don't worry... Don't take the bag. I can carry it." trying to catch her breath, she bent above her knees. Athran let out a worried sigh. They had to reach Hyoite fast, or they would risk getting lost in the tundra and freezing to death, without food.

Athran pulled the scarf, covering his face from the cold wind, higher, to cover all of his face. He could walk for many miles, but his sister wasn't used to the cold weather of the tundra.

Suddenly, a sound of a loud crack echoed in the air. Both elves immediately turned back, to see thin cracks opening in the frozen earth. Athran's eyes widened with surprise and horror. They were on solid ground... This wasn't natural. He grabbed Anoriel's shoulder.

"Something is happening. There's a big hole in the ground..." he muttered. She only nodded, terrified. They both reached for their weapons...

The portal had opened about 20 feet under ground, but the fresh strength of this Hakri was enough to rip the ice asunder. As the cracking (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=18069W2TbUI) and creaking (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Mc7URg467Tc) of huge amounts of ice moving and shifting as the monstrous form struggled against the solid ice.

Then, a huge thunderous crack resounded as the creature broke a hole in the ice.

Then came the roar (http://youtu.be/F7ojq08gscE?t=25s).

The creature burst forth from the ice, using it's psychic charge to launch itself onto solid ground, roaring at the two elves. The huge scythe-like talons protruding from it's wrist joints raring to rip into the elves.

The Hive Mind decided to speak briefly.

"Identify yourselves, as a species."

Anoriel screamed at the sight of the creature, tightly holding onto Athran's arm. "What is it? Athran, what is it?" she shouted. He didn't move a finger, utterly shocked by the Hakri's sudden appearance, and stared at it. He had no idea what it might be...

...But the Black Sword was out of its sheath and ready just a moment later. Anoriel also let go off him, grabbing her bow and preparing to launch an arrow off the bowstring, tied onto the elegant shape, carved from wood.

"Dammn the gods, and damn them a hundred times. I don't know what is it, but it sure as hell isn't friendly." Athran whispered. He turned towards the creature. "What do you want off us?" he shouted. "We're just passing through!" His sister pulled his cape and shook her head. Bad idea! It most likely didn't even know how to speak...

It didn't matter. They were ready to attack.

"Did you not hear us? Identify your species. Now." The Hakri stepped forward with one foot, the loud thud of it's heavy body landing causing the ice and ground to shake. The Hakri's mouth wasn't moving, but the voice of the Hive Mind projected from it.

It snarled and growled as it waited for a response, flicking it's tongue.

It's long talons were blood red, and it seemed to have no concept of camouflage or any other natural defence. As if it were the perfect predator. It's long talons reached the ground, and the muscles on the creature tensed as it waited to hear their reply.

"Elves. From Adela." Athran cried out. Anoriel stepped from behind his back, where she was hiding until now, clutching his black cape. The shock has passed and she was ready to fight. After all, she was with Athran... They couldn't be defeated so easily.

She saw his bag slipping from his shoulders. He made a step forth, gripping the sword with his hands, ready to charge at the slightest sign of threat, and they both waited for the monster to reply... It was huge and terrifying... And yet, he didn't even appear to be afraid.

"You are Elves.... Of Adela... Interesting. No matter. This Hakri is hungry. FEED!" The creature roared again, and slashed wildly at Athran and Anoriel, ripping huge chunks of ice out the floor in it's feeding frenzy.

Athran indeed din't wait. He leaped into the air, running towards the beast, and the blade of the Black Sword glinted in his hands as he raised it up. Anoriel followed him, slowly aiming her bow at the monster, and searching for any weakness.

The knight didn't attack it straight away, instead avoided its slashing claws and holes in the ground to find himself behind its back. From there... It was more vulnerable.

"Anoriel, shoot!" he screamed. His sister let go off the arrow, aimed at the beast's eyes. And Athran threw himself up, jumping at the creature's back.

The creature roared as the arrow went through both eyes, but it kept moving, just going into a worse frenzy, before calming briefly, tuning it's other senses. It tuned it's hearing and smell, and sonar sense, able to hear Anoriel's heartbeat. It couldn't hear Athran, as it's back was a blind spot.

It turned to Anoriel, snarling as it stomped towards her, slashing wildly, able to follow her through echolocation.

Athran climbed its back up until he reached the neck. The soft spots were by the sides, big enough for him to bend and reach them with the sword... He would risk being shaken off, but if he would be quick enough, nothing like that would happen.

Despite the shaking body of the monster, he aimed his sword at the soft spot, watching over Anoriel with one eye. She was running from the claws, still clutching her bow, but didn't turn back. "Shoot here!" he shouted, and plunged down for the stab.

The creature made a wide sweeping arc with it's claws, still following Anoriel with it's head, and the place Athran was aiming for tensed, the sword bouncing straight off the heavily armoured monstrosity. The arrow landed, but this time it just fell away from the would, the head instantly dissolving in the acidic blood.

The creature roared again, and it suddenly stopped it's frenzy, making a wretching sound. Then it turned to Anoriel, and a fell shriek (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6rtI86rgZ9I) filled the air, and the creature reared to full height suddenly, before throwing it's head forward, launching a huge, searing ball of cyan fire at Anoriel.

Anoriel ran as fast as the wind, avoiding the monster, while she led it onto the thinner ice, further towards the sea. Athran still kept on its neck, poking it to turn to the direction in which they wanted to lead it. More arrows were launched from Anoriel's bow, and almost all reached their target, but most simply bounced off the beasts's armour.

The sudden movement upon releasing the blazing fire surprised both of them, but while Anoriel just ran further, Athran was shaken off as the creature threw its head forth. His body sled down the monster's back and fell onto the ground. Despite the big fall, Athran kept his conscience, and landed on his bent legs, ready to spring from the ground and keep chasing the creature.

In a clever maneuver, they exchanged places with Anoriel, and he found himself right before the beast's slashing claws, while his sister took his spot behind. If they would guide it onto the thin ice, it would collapse under its weight...

The fire landed on the ice, and a small explosion sprayed fire everywhere. The smell of foul bile and acid filled the air as the flames continued to burn, despite the cold of the environment.

Then when it clocked Athran in front of it, it's body began to glow as it's psychic boost came into play, sending it into complete overdrive mode, the creature roaring yet again and making accurate, very powerful, fast slashes at Athran, the Hive Mind's will dominating the creature's instincts.

"Feeeeeed.... Hunger...." The creature then bent it's legs, and somehow managed to make itself jump into the air, impossibly high, showing off it's psychic charge.

It was aiming to land on Athran.

Athran had to control himself truly exceptionally to keep running as the monster leaped up into the cold air. It was huge, and its shadow fell straight onto him... There was no doubt it will land on his body if he doesn't avoid it quickly. His feet were moving as fast as the wind itself, brushing on the snow and ice.

He ran aside to lead it further onto the grinding ice, floating in the clod sea, looking over his shoulder. Anoriel appeared to be far behind, following it behind the back. It was on him - there was no help from anyone.

The huntress slowed down, rushing through the burning piles of acid, following the terrifying creature from behind. It was hopeless to shoot arrows - the thick carapace reflected all of them. She could only hope that her brother will act quickly, and not get crushed by the beast's body.

The creature landed, throwing huge chunks of ice into the air, and letting out snow, crushed ice dust and hail from the huge crater it created. By then, Athran had covered a distance that left him just barely in the Hakri's range of sense.

It slowly plodded towards Athran, the thunderous sound of it's huge hooves hitting the ice closing on each other, and soon, the creature was actually running, much faster than an elf or even horse could run, charging Athran with it's menacing bulky form, not hearing the ice creaking underneath it in it's blind rage.

Cracks opened beneath Athran's feet, and he had real trouble jumping over all of them. His plan was working - his only concern was not to fall into the water and drown alongside the beast. Anoriel shouted something from behind him, but she was too far from him to hear her words.

Another great hole opened in the ice. Athran's feet slipped on the shards as he landed in front of it, and he collapsed onto the ground. It was a hard fall, but he stood up anyway, running onto thinner and thinner ice with every step.

Soon, it will be over.

The creature, mid charge, seemed to start flickering, vibrating as the psychic charge started to work on it's fast moving body. This time it flung itself not upwards, but forwards, towards Athran.

It had nearly caught it's prey.

The beast begun to move strangely - just as before the first jump. Athran quickly figured out it was meaning to spring into the air once again... He wasn't mistaken. It leaped towards him, too quickly for him to run forth in an attempt to escape. There was yet one way to run, though.

He turned on his heel and ran back. Through the beast's shadow, he flashed like a lightning, sprinting through holes in the ground and leaping over cracks in the ground. He could run away towards Anoriel... Then return and melt the ice beneath the beast.

The beast landed on the ice with a thundering boom as ice was wrenched from it's place and flung into the air, huge chunks of ice raining down like meteors. But then it screeched, and although it looked like it was in a crater, in truth, it was drowning. The ice beneath it had given way to a small thin patch, where the beast was now condemned to it's death.

The roars and screams of rage as it tried to claw it's way out of the huge hole in the ice all in vain. After about 30 seconds, the beast was no more.

The ice cracked loudly, forming a huge crack beneath the monster. Its chunks were literally thrown into the air and left to fall down like a rain of ice. Athran ran as fast as he could, but the shards and turning icebergs beneath his feet were slowing him down, and he was tripping on them. Anoriel shouted something at him, but he couldn't hear her words through the roaring beast and crashing ice.

Something broke under his boots, but he payed no notice to it, only kept running before the cracks catch up with him, racing towards the shore, where ice was replaced by solid ground. His sister waved at him, gesturing him to hurry up. The breaking ice was behind his heels...

A great part of it broke off. It shook a little, shifted aside, and Athran couldn't keep his balance on the slippery ice. The soles of his shoes weren't fit for this... His feet slipped and he could only realize that he's falling sideways. He hit the ice with his head, and the world went black in a matter of a moment.

Anoriel ran to him, jumping from one chunk of ice to another. She saw him fall down on the ice, and then he didn't move... He was on a solid piece of ice, and not too far from the shore, but he didn't move. What was wrong?

Suddenly a portal opened, letting out a foul smelling gas, and 30 odd Fenresk came out of it. The beasts clocked Anoriel, and began an agile charge at Anoriel.

The beasts were seconds away when Halford seemed to appear behind the horde, calling to them to distract them. He took out his swords, and skilfully began to kill the creatures.

Anoriel pulled out her own bow, preparing to fight, and poked her brother with her foot. He groaned and opened his eyes, blinking into the light. "Anoriel... What's going on?" he asked. She shrugged and gave him her hand. The black-haired knight took it and pulled himself to his feet. They were circled by the beasts again...

The couple of scimitars appeared in his hands. The sleek blades were more effective against these creatures than the wide, though hard and sharp, Black Sword. It only took him a while to completely regain his consciousness, and by then, he was already rushing to the horde, slashing his swords around. He was as quick and nimble as if nothing happened before...

Anoriel followed him. She rarely ever told him when she used her magic, but the fact that she could keep him conscious and focused on battle saved them many times ago.

One by one, the beasts fell under their coordinated attacks... But there were still far too many.

Suddenly Halford stopped, shouting as loud as he could.

"You two, RUN! GO!" Halford slaughtered more of the monsters as they seemed to pour from the portal, in groups of thirty.

Eventually the portal closed, and Halford was surrounded by the creatures, a whole swarm of about 120 of them, all under the influence of the Hive Mind.

"Run first! I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!" Athran screamed back, turning around in a maddened slaughter with the speed of a lighting. Already several of the beasts have fallen to his swords, and more and more acidic blood covered the ground. He was able to keep them at bay long enough for either himself, or Anoriel to kill him...

But even he could have a problem with over a hundred. He wasn't even near to being tired, but that might change soon.

Halford was overrun with the swarm of beings, the whole hundred and twenty monsters piling on top of him. Then a roar filled the air, draconic, majestic and utterly deadly, descending on the huge pile with tooth, claw and flame, burning them to shreds, revealing Halford curled up on the floor, his purple dark elvish blood staining the water he laid in.

"Ugh, thanks..."

Athran was slowly getting overwhelmed by the slashing talons of the beasts, hitting him from every side. The more he managed to destroy, the more attacked him... Something knocked him over, most likely by throwing itself against his back. He could feel his blood on his face... Bones crunched with the beasts' bodies, covering him.

He had to burn them. There was no other choice...

A huge explosion of flames burst through the air, melting a hole in the ice in which Athran laid. He didn't even attempt to move... The fire created a barrier around him, and kept him safe from whatever may come close. If he could keep his conscience despite the wounds, he would be safe from danger until everything would burn away.

The portal had closed, and now Halford stood, and limped forward, killing the few stragglers that his huge dragon friend hadn't killed. Hopefully that was the last of them for now.

Once they had finished mopping up, Halford limped towards the other two elves.

"You two... Owe me a damned good drink..."

The flames flickered, slowly fading in the cold air. There was no use for them anymore... Athran simply couldn't focus on them. There was no way to keep them burning without his attention, and that was disappearing with every drop of his crimson blood that flowed onto the ice. The dark returned, and he lost his conscience.

"I don't owe anyone a damn thing! If anyone in here owes somebody something, it's not me!" Anoriel shouted, running towards her brother. None of the monsters reached her before she shot them, but she saw the explosion of fire Athran created, and knew that something was wrong. She found him laying face-down in a hole, burned out by the fire, surrounded by blood, slowly twirling in the water that the flames melted.

Without thinking, she sled down the side of the crater, and bent above his body. She shook him gently, but he didn't respond. Quickly checking whether he's breathing, she assured herself that he's still alive, even if he didn't move. His clothes were ripped on several places, but he didn't seem to be bleeding too badly... Anoriel's hands checked everything else. There were a few bones she didn't find alright, but like this, he at least didn't feel anything.

It wouldn't be too much of a problem, if they weren't in the middle of tundra, where one can freeze very easily. It helped that she was able to stop the bleeding, but he was too heavy for her to pick up. Desperately looking around herself, she clenched her hands around his shoulder.

Halford limped over to Athran, sliding down the side of the crater, still clutching his own heavily bleeding wound with one hand.

"Let's see what the damage is. After this you'll owe me a bloody drink woman..." Halford took a look at Athran before extending his hand and muttering a spell. A green light emanated from the palm of Halford's hand, and it began to weave around Athran, seeking his wounds and beginning to heal them.

"Aren't you... Aren't you going to heal yourself first?" Anoriel asked, but noticing that he already got to work, she used her own power to stop the bleeding. "I don't owe anyone a goddamn thing, you know. Those things would have ripped you to pieces... We're even." she growled.

She carefully watched him with distrust. "Can you heal broken bones? I think he cracked a dew of his ribs and right arm. I'm sure about those, but not about the rest. He'll get out of this if he doesn't freeze..." she explained to the stranger, nervously looking around. Athran has been in a worse state before, but she was still worried about him.

Halford hadn't noticed the broken bones, and stopped the spell. He spoke a small prayer for Athran, praying that the pain wasn't unbearable, and one by one, began to the bones, which had begun healing in the wrong positions. He continued saying the prayer over and over, eventually managing to line the bones up correctly.

He recast the spell, wounds opening from the battle on himself as he worked, the energy drain being so great that wounds he had already healed reopened. He got Athran to a healthy level, before collapsing, his own wounds bleeding nastily.

"Ow... Now where's my damned drink?"

Anoriel shrieked. "What have you done? Man, are you crazy?" She covered her mouth with her hands, but proceeded to heal his wounds, although it left her tired and exhausted. "Now we're all freeze here, because nobody of us has enough energy to even walk at least a mile!" Her body collapsed onto the ground and she pulled her knees to her chest.

Athran still didn't show any signs of conscience. The huntress assumed that he would have passed out due to the pain - she could hear his bones cracking - and wouldn't wake up anyway.

"I don't even have food, not a drink. Ask my brother when he wakes up. He drinks... Not me."

Halford only took a second, before standing, against all odds, and picking up Athran.

"Well we best start moving now. The closer we are to the village when we freeze to death, the quicker our bodies will be found." Halford hung Athran over his shoulder, walking in the direction he knew there was a village, not particularly listening to Anoriel anymore.

Anoriel grabbed Athran's body and pulled him towards herself. "No, let me take him. He's not that heavy! Besides, if he wakes up any soon, he'd smack you... And that would hurt both of you." she groaned as she pulled her brother's arm over her shoulders and started pulling him out of the hole in the ice. He wasn't so heavy - however, his armour and weaponry was.

"Darn it, Athran, and your damn swords and knives!" she whispered.

"No, it'd hurt him more..." Halford carried walking, more than happy to let this girl carry everything to the nearby village.

"Just to warn you, we have about an hour's walk. Let me know if you can't carry him, I'll show you how to drag him through the snow."

Anoriel grunted. "It's not the first time I'd have to carry him. I'm used to it. Besides, we've been eating only a little food every day as we traveled. He's not heavy." she uttered. Athran has never been more than bones, skin, and some muscles... If he didn't take his arsenal of weapons with him, she'd bet she could even pick him up.

However, like this, she only hoped that he will wake up soon and carry his darned armoury alone.

She slowly walked through the snow, dragging Athran's feet behind herself a little, but on straight ground, it wasn't that difficult. "He knew the way... I don't. I'm afraid you'll have to lead us." she said after a while of looking around and still having no idea where the village should be.

"Well if you knew the way, why didn't you run towards the village when I said to run? I had it under control." Halford snarled, his pride getting in the way of his better judgement.

"That horde was too big for you to handle. That why I said to run." Halford continued walking picking up the pace.

"Come on, don't wanna get caught out here at night. The frostbite isn't the only thing that'll kill you..."

"Because it was too big for you, too, that's why I didn't run! You'd get ripped to pieces in a matter of a minute..." she hissed back. "Don't you think I'd realize that? Besides, where would I run if Athran wouldn't lead the way? I sure bet he wouldn't just run. You should be thankful to us for saving your neck! I don't mean to say I don't prize your service, but to me, it comes as you don't realize half of the things that happened!"

She heard Athran's silent sigh beside her, but he still didn't appear to be awake yet. Well, he'll show this stranger who knows something about battle once he wakes up...

Oh, those two will either get blackout drunk, or rip each other to pieces! She glanced at the sky in desperation.

"I just said, there are more dangerous things out here in the snow than the temperature. Don't tempt me to introduce you to said things." Off in the distance, an unearthly roar resounded, and the roar of a dragon responded to it.

"Trust me, the dragon is the least of your problems..." Halford picked up the pace, trying to put some distance between the roar of his friendly dragon and whatever beast it had picked up.

Anoriel winged off. "You don't have to tell me that. I know the tundra... And I know dragons, too. I could've been a rider myself, but... Heck, who'd search for the beast and chase it though the mountains? I'm not my brother... Madly running after anything that fights him. I always said that knights are fools!" she complained, carrying Athran forth.

If he'd hear her, he wouldn't be satisfied one bit - but he didn't.

"You clearly don't. Those things have been popping up for weeks. Of course, as far as I know, I'm the only person whose ever survived an encounter. Except for you two now, but obviously you had veteran help." Halford continued walking, becoming increasingly irritated with this girl and her incessant whining.

"You're clearly used to city life, so why didn't you stay there, and drink your money, life and dignity away?"

"Because... Because of my brother." she shrugged, glancing at Athran's face.

And mention the devil...

The knight groaned, slowly opening his eyes. He blinked in the bright light, obviously confused, and stopped Anoriel. "What... What's happening?" he whispered. They were already quite far from the place where they fought those beasts, and he remembered nothing since then. Anoriel sighed with relief. "It's... A long explanation... Can you walk?" she asked, looking him over.
Athran looked at the ground and moved his feet to keep himself standing. "Maybe."
"Because that armoury of yours is heavier than a sack of potatoes!" his sister complained.
"That armoury of mine saved your neck more times than you can count on your hands. Show a little gratefulness and stop whining." Athran replied coldly.

He had about enough of her complaining along the entire way...

"Oh thank Haruspex, you're awake. And you made her stop complaining. I'll buy you a drink for that one." Halford stopped, and turned, looking at the pair. He examined Athran. The only real problem after that healing session would be Athran's energy. The wounds were all at healthy, non problematic stages.

"Now, if we're done, I'd like to reach town before nightfall, without encountering any more of those things."

Athran let go off Anoriel, pushing his bag into her hands. "I agree. I doubt I could take the big one once again..." he nodded, stretching himself that even his bones made a series of silent cracks. "Anoriel will take the bags... Instead of complaining, she could do something useful." he glowered. Anoriel's jaw dropped as he simply handed her all his things and walked away towards Halford.

He was still tired and his wounds were a bit painful, but he could walk and move freely without difficulties... It wasn't Anoriel's work - her power wasn't that great. It must have been this stranger, then...

"She whines like a little child. I'm getting fed up." he muttered.

"I noticed. She said you're her brother? How the hell did you survive growing up with her?" Halford had to admit, the man had some steel to have grown up with her as a sister.

"And those things weren't just your dream. They're very real. Unfortunately."

"I realized that damn fast. There was one huge one before... I drowned it." he groaned, still stretching his body. He shot a short glance towards Anoriel, walking behind them with all their bags, and smirked. "A quick smack on the head solves it. I'm older than her... And also stronger. I used to hang her on a tree when she opposed me." he admitted.

"Besides, I practically raised her when our father didn't give a damn about us..."

"That's fair enough... I don't know my parents. Born and raised by my tribe. Not that that's any fun." Halford sighed, beginning to see the village up ahead.

"Here we are..."

Athran sighed with relief. He wouldn't say it out loud, but he was getting tired. "If they have an inn, it's the first place I'll aim for." he smirked. Inns, the sweet wells of forgetfulness...

"At least you were raised by someone. My father finished with raising when I could hit the center of a target with a bow at the first try." he laughed harshly. Elesian forgot to interfere in his children's lives when they knew how to fight.

"Are we there already?" Anoriel shouted from behind. Athran didn't give her an answer, instead peering into the distance. The village was indeed drawing near... "We're not!" he cried out back.

"Same here. Your sister owes me a drink." Halford smirked back at Athran. The guy hadn't run when he was told, but he liked the guy. He was amusing company. He did want to give this guy a drink for shutting the girl up though.

"We just realised we have gone an hour in the wrong direction. Do a 180, and walk in that direction for two hours, and DO NOT look back! We'll find you tomorrow morning."

Athran burst out laughing, but then realized that Anoriel has his bag, and with it several things he would need... "No! First, bring me my bag. Then turn!" he shouted, grinning. Anoriel rolled her eyes over. "Your stupid pranks aren't funny!" she yelled.

Strange, he thought, I find them very funny. And this guy apparently shared his dark sense of humor... He smirked. "She owes drinks to both of us."

"Oh, and don't forget, if you see another one of those giant monsters, stick your head in it's mouth, they become friendly if you do that." Halford laughed, before continuing to the village.

"Well then, when we get to the inn, first round's on her." Halford smirked back at Athran.

"First two if she flirts with anyone." Athran added. They were almost in the village... But it appeared smaller than he hoped. Was there even an inn there? It appeared more like an encampment than an actual village.

He yawned. "I think I'll fall asleep before I finish the first jug, though." It was either due to blood loss, or something else, connected to the battle, but he was incredibly tired - if it wasn't so cold, he would have dropped onto the ground and fallen asleep straight away.

"Come on, just down the cliff a bit." Halford led them to the edge of a cliff where a path lead down to a complete village, sheltered by the cliff.

"The inn is right at the centre."

Anoriel finally managed to catch up with them, and appeared behind their backs, covered in bags and packs that Athran handed her. "If you weren't so big... I'd... I'd..." she gasped. Athran only shrugged. "If. Keep dreaming. Besides, you pay the first round in the inn... And also the second, if you attempt to flirt with anyone."

The elf-maiden let out a hiss, but she couldn't do anything against his remarks - he was stronger than he seemed, and she wasn't in the mood for a fight. She just sighed and followed them, as they  walked down a narrow path to the village.

They arrived at the cosy little inn, which wasn't void of people, but certainly wasn't a bustling tavern.

"Welcome to the Frost Dragon Inn my fellow elves. Make yourselves comfortable."

Athran entered first, looking around in the small room. He approached the innkeeper, who immediately looked him up and down, raising a brow at his ripped clothes and considerable state. Anoriel followed him, turning towards the narrow staircase, apparently leading to the rooms upstairs.

"Two... No, three rooms, and a big jug of wine." he asked off the innkeeper, and the short man disappeared behind a door by the counter. Anoriel dropped Athran's bag on the floor. "Are you meaning to get drunk?" she questioned him, visibly not too amused.

Athran nodded. "Yes. Do you see anything better to do around here?" he replied cynically.

Halford stepped indoors and saw that Athran had asked for the rooms.

"Annetta! Long time no see. We've just been out in the tundra, hunting bugs." Halford leaned in real close, and whispered to the bartender.

"Warn the town, they're bigger than before. These two tried to fight one, and their swords and arrows did nothing. I'll leave my friend on overwatch for you guys. Any bigguns come close, he'll kick em down the gorge. If they don't fall off first. It's if they spawn in the town that there's an issue..."

Athran turned to Halfor with a question in his eyes. "Besides... You haven't even introduced yourself. Just reminding you." he uttered, leaning against the frame of the door. Anoriel completely ignored both him, the dark elf, and the bartender, sitting on the stairs and waiting for someone to appear and take their bags.

"Do those things appear often around here?" he wondered silently, staring into the distance.

"My name is Halford, Halford Zanak. And yourselves?" Halford realigned his swords, his huge staff/spear/pike falling off his back. He picked it up, and stood, looking rather majestic with the sceptre.

"Athran Daineth. Over there's Anoriel, my sister. You may have heard of me... And if not by my name, then by this." His right hand reached for the beautiful long sword, hanging by his side. Its black blade glinted in the candlelight, and appeared before his face.

Suddenly, standing in the shadows of the inn, he looked strong and majestic as he really was, despite ripped remains of clothes hanging from his body and blood, dried on his face. The Black Sword in his whole grace and power...

"...The Black Sword."

"Oh yeah. One of my old jobs got outsourced to you! No hard feelings, I suppose though, eh?" Halford found it amazing how small the world was, how you could hear a name and then come across them without ever intending it.

"It's a lovely name. I don't have a nickname."

Athran smirked. "As lovely as a blade in your skull." he muttered. "After all, that's what swords are for..."

He didn't have any memory of this man, but his company was amusing. And as long as Anoriel was going to pay for the drinks, they could have a lot of fun.

The door behind the counter creaked, and the innkeeper appeared once more in front of them. "Almost all of the rooms are free." he shrugged. "You can choose."
"I want a room that's close to here." Anoriel yawned, holding her head in her hands.
"I'll sleep under the roof... I'll take a look at what's there." replied the knight. "And you?" He turned to Halford, waiting for him to choose.

Halford chose the room next to Anoriel, as it was easiest, and if anything decided it didn't like her, he was right next door.

"I'll take this one, I don't sleep well at night." Halford admitted, setting his spear down, before taking a pouch, and placing it on the table.

"So, drinks."

Athran slowly turned his head to Anoriel. Strands of his black hair slipped through his face as he tilted his head aside, and Anoriel immediately knew what he wanted. She handed him her pouch with a disappointed sigh, and picked up their bags to carry them into their rooms.

He grabbed the money bag much quicker than one might have expected, and shook him with a satisfied grin on his lips. "This should suffice for the evening, don't you think?" he muttered, glancing at the counter and several barrels behind it.

"Ah, yes, the wonderful drinks. Thank you Anoriel. You're such a good girl..." He joked, speaking as if he were talking to a baby.

He followed Athran to the bar, and decided he would find the two a table.

"Hey, I'll go look for a table."

Athran nodded. "What do you want? Red wine? White? Ale? Mead, or beer?" he asked, leaning against the counter lazily. He grabbed the edge of his cloak and wiped the blood and dirt from his face in an attempt to look at least a bit civilized, and took off the upper coat, revealing a less damaged leather armour and parts of the chainmail shirt underneath.

The bartender looked at him with tired eyes, resembling an old dog. "Fill your biggest jug with red wine to the brim. And make it sweet." the elf growled, casually turning his arm to show the long dagger, strapped to his forearm. The man gave a slow nod, and bent underneath the counter, searching for something that would suffice a strange customer like Athran.

Halford found a table, waiting for Athran to come over with the drinks.

"Or... I'll take two." Athran added to his order, and placed a coin upon the rugged wood of the counter. The bartender sighed, reaching for another jug, and when both were filled with the dark red liquid, his grabbed them with a strong grip and carried both to the table Halford chose.

The glass thudded as he dropped it onto the table, spilling a little from each, and smirked. "Race, or start slowly?"

"Race my friend. I guarantee, no-one beats a Dark Elf for drinking contests." Halford grinned, taking one of the jugs in his hand.

"To a good, and prosperous friendship."

"I guarantee, nobody beats the Black Sword! I can drain a barrel." Athran grinned back, and clashed his jug against Halford's. "To a good friendship, and shall it last long!" he cheered.

His hand with the jug arose to his lips and he begun drinking.

"Bring it on buddy. Hear, hear!" Halford began to drain his jug rather rapidly, able to hold his own even the mightiest dwarf in Le'raana.

He began to think of things he hadn't thought of in a while. Friendship being one of them.

Athran turned his jug upside down much faster than someone would expect from a thin, lean elf such as himself. Its contents were drained before one would say 'Black Sword'. His head made a wild turn as he banged it against the table with a confident smirk on his lips.

"I... I guess I won..." he muttered. It felt like Maigrod making loops in the air... And that means good.

Halford competed valiantly, finishing a mere half second after Athran, and feeling the tingle. He already felt a slight buzz, and his vision started blurring very quickly.

"Haha, nice... Shall I get us another?"

Athran nodded. "But this time no race. In this speed, I'll pass out before the sunset!" he laughed, and gestured at the bartender to come to them. The man walked to them with the same cynical expression of an old dog, and listened to his orders.

"I want these jugs refilled, and another pair, half the size, filled with mead. And a meal... Fish for me." he said, leaning over the seat of his chair.

"I'll have yeti please." Halford made the order slightly nicer for the bartender, and this time Halford brought forward the coin.

"For shutting your little sister up earlier, haha!" Halford smiled widely, feeling that much wine beginning to play havoc on his judgement and his mind.

Athran laughed. "She's loud and crazy if you don't feed her! And flirty if you do." he shrugged, leaning back on the chair. The innkeeper disappeared, to come back a while later, carrying their jugs. Athran played with a wisp of his hair with one hand, while he picked up the glass of mead with the other one, and took a drink.

"But I hate pulling her out of the problems she gets to if she hits on the wrong man." he admitted, and shook his head, still with the smirk on his lips. The wine was beginning to take effect... He felt warm and comfortable, suddenly more open and eager to talk.

"Back in my tribe, their used to be a group of teenagers, we used to get in so much trouble. We'd always sneak out to Ketra on the Long Week of Haruspex and go and have a bit of fun with the bar girls. We'd always keep an eye out for each other, making sure no-one got hurt, and I was constantly pulling this one girl away from criminals and the like. We ended up calling each other wingmen." Halford lied so heavily, but at the moment it wasn't showing. There weren't any inconsistencies, all bar the fact that Haruspex didn't have a festival in his tribe.

"Oh, the trouble we used to get into..."

Athran cackled. "I was always the one that got Anoriel into trouble. She was innocent when she was a child... I was setting shops on fire because the shopkeeper though I was rude!" He opened his arms and laughed. "And in Ketra, in the beginning of my knight years, it was run after run from guards for the trouble I was in. The only knight, jailed for three years!"

Memories of his wild, fiery youth returned to his mind - the Randy Peach, dancing on tables, running from guards and criminals alike... Colorful festivals and lost money bags... If he only wasn't alone, it would have been beautiful.

"Haha, that sounds fun! Oh, there was this one time, we took this kid ba-" Halford stopped, his face realising what he had almost said, and taking a drink to calm his beating heart.

"We took this kid to a brothel, after booking him in, and left him with no money to pay for it. It was really funny..." He didn't seem to amused by the lie he had just thrown up.

"Uh. Brothels creep me out when it gets away from dancing on the table." Athran admitted, scratching his head. He moved one wisp of his long black hair behind the pointed tip of his ear, and looked down. Since Yhrana's attempt to stab him through the heart in their bedroom, he tended to avoid human women.

He raised his drink to his lips again, in an attempt to fill in the silence, still keeping his eyes on the table.

Halford downed the rest of his mead, and sighed. He completely forgot the lie he just told, and simply went about telling a different one. One slightly closer to the truth.

"One time me and my wingman... He got a boy and brought him back to our tribe, showed him our newborn ritual. Gods, that boy was not in a good state after that." The inconsistency was a bit clearer this time, and there were subtle hints to the truth being darker than it sounded.

Athran sighed. "My youth consists half of setting myself on fire, and half of setting other things on fire." he growled. Instead of the mead, he drank from the jug of wine, and stared into the crimson fluid, twisting and turning like a pool of blood.

It looked too much like a pool of blood...

Halford, while not knowing Athran saw it, saw blood as well, although he had no qualms about drowning his sorrows in drinking blood. It was familiar. It reminded him of home.

"My youth..." For a second, Halford seemed to glaze over, a trickle of the red wine dropping onto his yeti steak, and his began eating, as if it were still raw.

He had downed another jug of wine, which was honestly enough.

"I spent my youth in Ketra. Lived there..." This lie was obvious.

"My wingman, Jahana, he was a great guy, I mean, he used to watch for guards, constantly..."

Athran only lazily poked his fish with the knife. It smelled old, and didn't seem tasty at all. "I hope you didn't watch Anoriel." he muttered, moving the fish around the plate.

The jug of mead went up once more, and Athran downed what was left in it. At this time, he didn't even think whether Halford is telling him the truth. He didn't tell him all, anyway.

His glance focused at something in the distance. "I lived with my father." When he mentioned Elesian, his face hardened. Those weren't memories he would want to bring up... He wasn't on good terms with his father.

"I'm a lie..." Halford muttered, running a hand through his hair, and sighing.

"Ok, that's a lie. Everything about me that I've told you is a lie." Halford tried to think of how to phrase his next few words.

"My real name is Sidyrux, which means "flesh-cooker" in my tribe's language. And that boy I talked to you about... He watched our newborn ritual because he was part of it... My tribe were cannibals. The newborn ritual was a ritual where the newborn was fed it's first piece of flesh... That boy was the sacrifice. I left the tribe a few years later." Halford sighed, ordering another full jug of mead.

Athran nodded, not even appearing too surprised by it. "I understand why you lied... Don't think you'll meet with misunderstanding. I was taken as a misfit till I showed everybody that I can fight. And I've traveled enough to see stranger customs. I think I've gone through some myself..." he admitted.

It was understandable that Halford would lie about something like that, but Athran got rid of the prejudice he used to have in his youth. He was neither surprised nor disgusted... After all, he had so many secrets to hide himself.

"We're all living a lie..." He dropped his head onto his forearms, crossed on the table, and sadly glared at the wall.

"I ate a total of 203 people. People. Some as young as infants. I would be branded a demon worshipper were it not for the fact people didn't know. It was just a missing person notice. No remains. We even put the bones to use..." Halford sighed, and kicked back in his chair.

"I only left because I had a crush on a girl we sacrificed, and in my anger, I killed the chief."

Athran look down in what could have been shame, if something would have been seen through his dark hair, falling into his face. "I don't think I'm much better. You killed for food... I kill for money... Maybe that's even worse, because I chose to do it. And what is the most terrifying thing, is that I'm good at it."

Living such a lie... How did he even sink so low from the son of a commander?

"I chose to do it, for a while... But now is not the time and the place to reminisce. We have our death beds for that."

"I learned to regret nothing. It's no good." Athran growled, downing his wine. The jug made a loud thud as he laid it down again, maybe with more force than he should have put to it.

"Death can come and claim me, but it damn sure won't find me sorry."

"Aye, that is a fine thought to live by. To welcoming death with a smile!" Halford raised his jug in a toast, and finished it.

The huge amount of alcohol began to take effect, and as he finished his meal, he began to laugh, at some joke that hadn't been told.

Athran ordered yet another jug of wine. If he was to get drunk, then he'll get drunk on a big scale... His mouth twisted to a grin. "I have this one friend... He follows me all around. A death god, he says. All big and strange, but he's actually quite nice. He says that if I ever die, I'm going with him. That there's no heaven or hell for me... Well, I died once, and before someone judged where to put me, I came to life again, so it makes sense, doesn't it?"

He turned the fish over with his knife, then picked it up by the tail and offered it to Halford. "I'm not going to eat this. It stinks old. Do you want it?"

"Oh, so another mad nutter. Well, at least you know you get to join the gods. I'm going straight to Haruspex's front door." Halford grinned, obviously pleased with the thought of going to the Dark God's front door.

"Nah, I'm good. Unfortunately because of the climate, they're hard pressed to get fish round here." Halford finished off his yeti steak, and laid back, feeling the small amount of venom light up his stomach like a firework.

"Ooooh, yeti burn."

"Heh. I'm going straight to the realm of the death gods. Quite a pleasure, I'll get to be one as well... They said my cold soul would freeze hell over, and if they shoved me there, all devils would be running out of may way!" Athran laughed, appearing almost pleased with the fact that he will get an unique afterlife.

He gestured at the bartender once more. The man stumbled to him with a desperate expression on his old face, and listened to his drunk complaining. In the end, Athran shoved the plate into his hands and asked him to bring something that doesn't smell like it's been dead for a year.

"Haha, Robert, the man would like a yeti steak please." Halford looked to ease the pressure upon the man.

"They have to import their fish from further north, or down south. Unfortunately, it never tastes very good to outsiders."

"Only orcs smell worse." Athran growled, and watched the man leave. "But I should shut up, as I can't even cook what I hunt down, shouldn't I?"

"I'm a good cook I think. I think, haha." Halford decided to try and keep the mood light and airy.

Athran burst out laughing. "I burn whatever gets to my hands, be it a fish, or boar. I can't help it... Food is so easily forgotten when tending the weapons." he shrugged, reaching after his jug again.

"Too true. I managed to find these weapons in an abandoned temple built by dark elves. They used to be enchanted, but they fell into disrepair. They're still in disrepair." Halford put the weapon on the table, unsheathing it, revealing extensive wear and tear.

"Needs a good servicing."

Athran scratched his head and grabbed the weapon. "Give me a forge and it will look like new." he smirked. His weaponsmithing skills were only a little worse than the excellence with which he handled his weapons in combat. He unsheathed one of his scimitars (http://i12.photobucket.com/albums/a207/AkashaSuki/Other%20Stuff/BlazeScimitar3.jpg), and laid it down on the table.

"And give me three days to make it look like this. I forged that blade, and the Black Sword, too."

"If only it were that simple. No-one can tell me what metal the blades are made of. I was hoping a fellow elf might know." Halford took the sleeve of his tunic and carefully wiped the blade clean, revealing the matte black metal underneath.

"Any thoughts?"

Athran softly picked the blade up and looked it over. It was rusted and broken, but the black ore it has once been smithed from appeared as a lesser version of the one of which his own sword was made...

"It's similar to my sword, just worse quality. I'd say someone mixed steel and the black metal to make those, otherwise it wouldn't rust..." he concluded after a while. It seemed reasonable - as reasonable as a half-drunk elf could just be.

"See, that's not rust." Halford leaned forward, ready to share an interesting fact.

"That's the metal."

Athran raised a brow. "Then it's definitely not the same metal this," He pointed at the handle of the Black Sword, "is made of. If you would let me heat it, I could possibly find out more."

It was more brittle and fragile than the adamant-hard blade of the Black Sword, but it had a similar cold feel to it, which didn't heat even in flames. "It's a good weapon, though. Needs a lot of repairs, but I could do that, if I won't be too hungover tomorrow." Athran grinned, and downed his mead.

"There's a trick I have found with being hungover.... Want to hear it?" Halford leaned back, grinning wildly.

"More alcohol."

Athran burst out laughing. "That's an old one! I know that. But I couldn't always use it - Maigrod says he refuses to carry a rider that's on the edge of blacking out and stinks like a barrel of wine! Heh, picky dragons!"

He called the bartender and asked for another refill, leaning back on his chair, trying to balance it on  the two back legs.

"Haha, dragons can be very picky. I made a rider-bond with a black dragon, who hates it if I wear clinky armour. He's really picky." Halford sighed, feeling like this man knew all his problems, and could just bitch and whine and they'd both harmonise in their bitchy-whiny chorus.

"My Maigrod is a huge black beast, but he hates when I smell from wine... He's used to the clinking of my armour and weapons, but he hates the wine." Athran complained, shaking his head. "Otherwise he's obedient, but if I climb onto that wide shoulders drunk, he'll shake me off."

Outside, it was getting dark. The veil of twilight sat onto the tundra, and it was getting dim in the inside of the inn, too. Athran snapped his fingers, above which a bright white flame appeared, and softly moved them above the mead. It caught the fire, and in a moment, its surface was burning with bright flames. The elf picked the goblet up, and raised it to his lips, twisted in a mischievous smirk.

"Just watch this." he muttered, and started drinking from the fiery ale.

Halford balanced his chair on two legs, waiting to see what Athran was going to do.

All of the mead, burning with fire, somehow disappeared in him, leaving only an empty jug. Athran laughed and threw his head back, blowing a small flame from his lips. "I'm a dragon!" he grinned.

The wine was definitely starting to affect his brain.

"Haha! Lovely party trick." Halford said. Then he saw a lovely girl enter the bar, and he stood up.

"excuse me one moment."

Athran stood up and followed him. "Now let me watch this." he smirked. He was curious, but considering the amount of alcohol the two have consumed, the girl was more likely to get scared off and run away, then communicate with them.

Unless it was a girl that they already knew...

"Anoriel, why did you change your dress?" Athran questioned her. Off course, it was his sister, who came searching for him from her room. She was dressed in clean grey armour, new and pretty, and didn't seem amused at all. "You two drunkards should go to sleep before you wreck something." she sighed.

Halford's heart sank as he realised it was Anoriel.

"Oh. You. Never mind." Halford sighed, examining the armour Anoriel was wearing, and deciding he was very unimpressed.

Athran poked her. "And you go back to your room. If we wreck something, it's not your business." he snarled. She crossed her arms on her chest, and gave him a disappointed sight. "I'm not going to pay for anything you break. Remember, you took my pouch." she reminded him, and turned to leave the tavern.

The elf shook his head and laughed. "Gone off again. Fortunately."

"You know, if she didn't whine so much, she might actually be attractive. But she does whine too much." Halford admitted glumly. He felt attracted to her physically, but it was her being and personality he disliked. Maybe if she was drunk, and he was a little more drunk he would try his luck.

Not now though.

"She always whines when she's hungry. Otherwise, she drinks more than she complains... I'm still better in drinking contests, though." Athran admitted with a grin, and leaned against the counter. "She looks like my mother did... By what I remember." He shrugged.

There wasn't much to remember about Arinwen, since she died while he was but a child, but from his memories, Anoriel resembled her a lot, except for her hair.

"Well why doesn't she just get herself some food? Other than the fact you took her coin pouch, hah!" Athran at least knew what his mother looked like. Halford had no idea what his mother or father looked like. Only that they had abandoned him to the cannibal tribe. Either eaten, and fet to him as his newborn ceremony, or they buggered off, apparently with a brother in their arms.

That was what the elders had told Halford.

Athran shrugged. "We leave Ketra, and she goes completely clueless... I don't know why." he said, playing with a wisp of his long hair. Talking of his mother brought up dim images of Arinwen to his mind - all he could remember from 540 years ago, what wasn't much.

Filthy orcs and their poisoned arrows.

"I don't see why. It's just colder up here. Same currency. Same sort of stuff. Just a bit colder..." Halford sighed, and went back to their table, but saw that two locals had already set up at the table.

"Hey, we were sitting there guys!" Halford raised his arms as if to exaggerate the "why are sitting in our seats" point.

Athran crossed his arms on his chest. "This isn't your table. Find another..." he growled, staring at their surprised faces. Elves surely weren't a common sight here, but did they really have to stare that much?

If they'd simply get lost, that would be the best.

"Or what? You gonna make us?" The two men teased, one of them chucking his mug of ale over Halford, who stood there, looking unimpressed.

"Stupid dark elf. Go and sacrifice some babies with the rest of your kind, don't bother us normal folk." The oldest of the men sneered.

The comment drove Halford crazy.

It was over in a few seconds, ending with the two men being kicked out the door by Halford alone, no doubt leaving Athran's slightly drunk mind confused.

Athran cheered, laughing wildly, leaning at the edge of the door. "And don't return! Or you'll taste the blades!" he shouted after them, and kicked into the door to close it. "Humans are stupid." he groaned.

"They think they can kick me out of a tavern just because I have pointed ears... It ends up the other way around. For the love of the gods, humans are so stupid." he shook his head, and sat onto the table, tossing the remaining mug onto the ground.

"I know, they're so prejudiced. Last time I ate a baby was a few hundred years ago, when I was going up. They're not wrong, never met any non-cannibal dark elves, but it's offensive that they presume I still do it." Halford kicked back, and ordered new drinks, the two men having drained the drinks Athran and Halford had ordered.

"But they're dealt with now. Where were we?"

Athran shrugged. "Uh... I don't remember. Honestly. At drinks, maybe?" he scratched his head, and glanced at the door. "Oh, Anoriel."

The innkeeper brought them another load of drinks, obviously bracing his mind and consciousness from this cray couple. They thudded on the table, and he gave Athran a look that might have meant to discourage him from sitting on the table, but the black-haired elf didn't even look at his face. His hand was immediately around the jug.

"My father always said I drink too much. But when I beat him in a duel when I was 170 and he 1300, he stopped whining!" he joked, and drunk a large part of his wine.

"My tribe used to complain that I was too much of a lekrama, which means womaniser essentially. Although it's not exact. I've always found that the human slang 'player' is more accurate. I don't know if they have the phrase 'player' up here. I suppose in my youth, I was one." Halford didn't know if that slang existed up here in the north yet. South of the Kishahn jungle, it was common place.

"They never complained about my ability with polearm weapons though. A spear is always a useful hunting tool in the jungle and woodland that my tribe travelled between."

"The girls used to chase me... I hated it. Why is every woman all mad when she sees an elf?" Athran wondered, staring up at the ceiling. The truth, which he, however, never really knew, was that most of those admirers were not attracted to him because of his fair face and natural charm. If he only wouldn't have chased them all away...

"And when there was one I paid attention to, she stabbed me!" He made a wild gesture, and spilled from his jug, after what he simply finished what was inside. He was getting a tad loud under the influence of alcohol, but fortunately didn't destroy anything - yet.

"I don't know, they see a normal elf, and they go crazy, they see a dark elf, and it's just pure terror." Halford took another drink, then laughed at Athran spilling drink and ranting and raving.

"I got betrayed for some god awful bandit leader. Safe to say, he didn't live very long. I fed him to my tribe, told them he was a murderer. He was. But safe to say, she fled the country, realising that if I can steal her new playmate, kill him, eat him, and put the skeleton back without her waking up once, then I could just as easily get her for it." Halford laughed, it coming off slightly sinister.

Athran laughed. "I still can't believe why did I marry a witch that stabbed me in the bed. But safe to say, she got my hands on her neck the moment I realized it's a knife. Ran off for some merchant... He was dead before her, but it was a bit fun to show her that head at her execution." he admitted.

The way he dealt with Yhrana was brutal - though, all his love was replaced by eternal hatred when she cheated at him and tried to kill him. And that was the cause of an argument he didn't want to remember.

"That's a nice way to go about it. No, she's no doubt off hiding, living in mortal fear that one day I'll come along and cannibalise her. Maybe one day I will. Not before I have some fun though, eh?" Halford smiled, and raised his glass, saying in a rather loud voice.

"To the bitches and whores who have done us wrong!" He took a huge swing off his drink, and put the drink down, going to lean forward, but simply hitting the floor instead, laughing.

"Aye! Let them rot in the bloody graves before we come and burn 'em to ashes!" Athran cried out, standing up on his table, and downing the first jug that got to his hands. The wine was flowing out of his mouth, crimson almost like his own blood, dripping onto his clothes and into his hair.

Now this is how two drunk elves look - the bartender surely disappeared somewhere to hide from the mess they'd surely leave after themselves.

"Aye, and to the freezing over of whatever hellish afterlife they find us in!" Halford stood in the middle of the Tavern, raising his glass, laughing, while slightly more sober people paid some money to the bartender then left, obviously feeling pity for him.

Halford couldn't judge anything anymore, and struggled to recognise faces. So when the young woman from earlier re-entered the tavern, he failed to recognise her, his vision too blurry to even make out her face properly. Instead, he walked over, and began to flirt.

"Hello there beautiful, what's your name? And, uh, fancy a bit of fun with a wonderfully exotic Dark Elf?" He had a devilish grin on his face, and he reeked of alcohol, not exactly attractive qualities.

Athran stumbled down from the table, again following Halford. It was difficult enough for him not to trip over something in his way, as the alcohol has clouded his senses. He didn't even recognize Anoriel - only saw a pretty elf-maiden in the doorway.

He smirked. "Hey, pretty..." His hand sled onto her waist, and was followed by a slap from Anoriel. She smacked both of them, and stepped back into the corridor. "You sick creeps! Leave me alone! Athran, you seriously have issues!" she screamed, and ran back into her room.

The elf glanced at his companion in confusion. "What... What the hell did we get slapped for?" he asked.

"I don't... Hold on. I'll be right back. I think..." Halford went to follow, but simply fell over and face planted, picking himself up, and suddenly starting to feel rather drowsy and tired.

"I think... I think I've... Had too much?" He stumbled up the stairs, before passing Anoriel's room, and knocking on the door.

"Is... Is this my room?" Halford asked rather sheepishly.

Athran pointed at the door next to the one he was knocking on. "I think... I think this... Is yours, isn't... It?" His head was spinning wildly, and his cheeks, usually unnaturally pale, seemed to blush.

He turned to go up to his own room, but the stairs proved too difficult for him, and after missing a few, he just slipped and rolled all the way down. It didn't look like a nice fall, but he just laughed and shook it off. "I guess... I'll sleep in Anoriel's..." he muttered.

"Oh... Well, uh... Uh... Goodnight Athran! Uh... To a good hangover?" Halford raised an invisible glass, before stumbling into his room, shutting and locking the door, and passing out on the floor with a loud thud.

Athran cheered at him. "Good... Morning... Uh... Whatever it may... Be." He even forgot to close the door, just dropped face down onto the rug. The world went completely black, and yet he still appeared to be grinning widely.

Halford woke up and groaned.

His head throbbed, his body ached, and he felt exceptionally ill. As if a cold had mingled among his hangover. He pushed himself off the bed, standing up groggily.

"Ugggghhhh, my heaaaddd...." He took a few feeble steps forward, reaching the door.

"Athran? Anoriel?"

Athran woke up pretty late after the sunrise.

His first thought after he opened his eyes was that he wants to... Die. He wanted to throw up, and his head felt like it was going to explode. He was on a bed, someone has removed his armour, and dressed only in the thin shirt and pants, he was freezing cold. He remembered absolutely nothing from yesterday's night, but judging by the hangover, he must have drunk a lot. He stood up and stumbled out of the door, searching for a familiar face. He held his head in his hands.

"Uhh... A-Anyone... Anyone here?" he groaned.

"Stop being so loud!" Halford shouted at Athran, angry that Athran was being so moderately loud, as it was causing Halford pain.

"It hurts!" Halford was in fact shouting back.

Athran's pointed ears were immediately pulled back at the sound of Halford's voice. "Damn it, don't scream at me! I'm still asleep!" he muttered, frowning at the dark elf.

He tilted his head aside, on hand still in his hair. "I take it as we're both of equally bad..." He leaned against the doorway, closed his eyes, and turned his face at the ceiling. "Good gods. I think I'm going to throw up."

"No. I think for all that you can drink more than me, I digest it better." Halford didn't feel sick. He felt ill. Warm, bunged up and grotty.

"Ugh."

Athran groaned. "I need a drink. A strong one." he said silently. "And pray that I won't throw up whatever I decide to eat."

He never felt it while celebrating, but in the morning, he immediately knew whether he has drunk too much.

"No you don't. You need to drink water." Halford took a few more sheepish steps forward, ending up at the stairs, before cautiously climbing down.

And still managing to crash down and land on his face.

"Owww..."

Athran followed him, holding onto the wall, and upon noticing him falling, he offered him his hand. "Keep close to the wall. No wonder that you're falling, if there's nothing to hold."

He was completely certain that he didn't need water - it wouldn't help him. What he wanted was another jug of cold wine.

"I was holding the wall. But the wall decided to be a bastard and let go of me..." Halford took his hand, and stood up.

"And besides... Where's Anoriel?"

Athran shrugged. "As if I'd know... She comes and leaves as she pleases. Honestly, I have no idea where she might be." he replied.

Eventually, they reached the main room of the tavern. At this time of the day, it was completely empty, and the bartender was wiping jugs with a dirty cloth. Athran leaned over the counter, staring at him with a disturbingly consistent gaze. "The biggest jug full of cold wine that you can find... And whatever food that I won't throw up." he ordered.

"You seriously want more drink? Good lords above, you're determined to die of that stuff, aren't you?" Halford sat at the bar.

"A water for me please Kyle." Halford finally remembered the bartender's name. They were in no short supply of water or ice around here, and so refrigerated meats and cooled drinks were popular.

Athran grabbed the jug that the bartender gave him along with a desperate look, and though spilling from it as he took it to the table, he managed to get most of the wine there. "I just don't want to think..." he replied, and took a drink from his jug.

His face turned even paler than before, and he grabbed his mouth with his hands. Running out of the back door, he accidentally turned the jug over and spilled everything that was in onto the table, from where it begun dripping onto the ground. This wasn't good...

"That's why I'm having water Kyle, haha! Fancy a hand to clean up this mess?" Halford took the cloth gladly, and wiped up the mess Athran had left in his wake. Then he waited to see who would get back, Anoriel or Athran.

After a short while, Athran returned. He was paler than death, and appeared unnaturally sickly when he dropped onto the chair.

"Don't ask. Please." he muttered, and waved at the bartender to bring him another jug, this time with water.

"I don't think I want to know. I would have recommended putting a cloak on though, it's cold out there." Halford's head was throbbing more and more by the second, and a few second's later, the bartender gave them the water.

"Thanks Kyle."

Athran took a drink from his glass. He stared into it blankly, with a grim look on his face, and dropped his head into his hands. It didn't help - it still hurt the same.

"Please, kill me now..." he whispered, and closed his eyes.

"Hey, Kyle, has a she-elf come through here this morning? I don't want to take three steps outside and find she's a block of permafrost." Halford sighed, and decided he may as well check she hadn't fainted outside and become an elf-woman ice lolly.

The bartender nodded. "Went straight out, in what could have been her father's clothes. Fur all over her." he replied.

Athran glanced over his shoulder at the door. "Good gods, how glad I am that she's not here."

Halford stuck his head outside, and immediately recoiled, feeling the cold sting of the icy winds on his face, and snow sticking to his face.

"If she's dressed in furs, she'll be alright."

Athran drank more from his water. "She took my clothes. She should better be..." he said, occasionally glancing at the door.

Halford was about to say something when he felt a sharp pain in his leg, and realised Ingemar was injured.

He ran into the snow, seeing the dragon facing off with a Hakri on the single ice path in and out of town, his back leg hanging, and one of the Hakri's arms missing, as well as most of it's tail.

Athran stumbled out of the door after Halford, and was immediately blinded and frozen by the blizzard, but kept tripping through the snow nonetheless. The sight of the monster cleared his mind better than anything... He immediately knew what to do.

He shouted at the dragon, drawing his sword, which remained by his side even in the night, and ran towards the thinner ice in an attempt to draw the Hakri's attention and perform the exact same trick as before.

It worked - surprisingly enough, the beast followed him.

Halford wasn't working with Athran's plan however.

He ran up Ingemar's back, jumping off Ingemar's head onto the Hakri, and having Ingemar hold it's attention, while Halford lined up the polearm with a weakspot on the side of the Hakri's head, a crack in the exoskeleton. He plunged the sword and polearm into the crack, piercing through to the beast's brain, and began wrenching the weapons from side to side.

"NO-ONE. HURTS. MY. FRIENDS!" The beast roared, before swaying and stumbling off the cliff, leaving Halford to try and get off before he plunged to the bottom of the ravine with the beast.

But it was simply too late, and he plunged with the creature, disappearing into the depths, with no sound reaching the top for nearly 4 minutes.

It could not have been more unfortunate. Another couple of beasts appeared on the path which the Hakri followed. Athran ran further onto the thin ice, slipping on its surface, but he kept sprinting even despite that.

He couldn't outrun them... A talon slashed his arm, and he felt the blood streaming out. The ice was already cracking beneath him...

It made a loud crash, and broke into pieces. The beasts sled into the cold water, but he couldn't keep on his feet, either.

The cold embrace of the ocean was freezing. It was pulling him down, so cold it pressed all of his body into a small bundle of bones and flesh, and the world was disappearing. His head was burning with the lack of oxygen.

The water appeared heavenly blue and deep beneath the ice.

He lost his conscience in a matter of few seconds.

Ingemar could only find Athran, pulling him out of the water in little more than 2 seconds. Halford was a different matter however.

He couldn't find him mentally, the psychic presence of the Hive Mind blocking Ingemar's own abilities.

"Halford?! HALFORD!"

Anoriel was just walking around the cliff, searching for a passage that might have led further, when she heard the sound of a beastly roar, screaming and shouting, and other sounds that were a sign of nothing good. When she ran towards the sea to look over the edge of the cliff, just to see a beast, not unlike the one she fought just a day ago, and that new friend of her brother on his head. She screamed in horror, but kept enough common sense to attempt to catch Halford...

She was born lucky. His body sled into her hands. She collapsed to her knees under his weight, and all she could do was stare. Was he still alive?

Halford had closed his eyes, thinking that his life was over, but when he stopped falling, he opened his eyes.

"Anoriel..." He broke, glad that she had saved him, and immediately embraced her in a thankful kiss, which he hadn't really though about.

Anoriel blushed in surprise, but fleetly returned the kiss, smiling softly. She was still confused, but he was apparently alright, and that was the most important thing...

"What happened?" she asked. "That thing... Was it that again? And where's my brother, is he still in the inn?"

"It was a different one. It's eyes were green, not yellow." Halford moved to leave her arms, feeling slightly awkward that she had returned the kiss.

"He's up with Ingemar I think. Uhm..." He rubbed the back of his neck, looking for the way up.

"Uh, lead the way?"

Anoriel nodded, dropping him down, and quickly grabbed his arm to lead him up a narrow path to the edge of the cliff. It appeared like a long staircase, hardly distinguishable from the dark stone, with short, but tall steps. It made a few turns, once ascended steeper than another time, and stones were dropping from beneath their feet, but she eventually managed to lead him up.

The strong wind, blowing into her face, blinded her for a moment, and she pulled the hood of Athran's cape up to her face. "Where... Where are they?"

Halford felt the ache of his strenuous activity setting in, and he followed her up the staircase.

They reached the top, and suddenly Halford heard the sounds of an angry mob. He grabbed Anoriel, and threw her to the snow, cutting himself with his knife to look like a corpse, and letting the knife rest by her ribs, using his blood as a camouflage.

The mob passed by, with torches and pitchforks in hand, like they had only ever had the pitchforks for mob situations.

"Come on, let's follow."

"Follow what? And why are you doing this?" Anoriel whispered into his ear.

She had a bad feeling about this... Athran wouldn't let her wait... He'd return. What happened?

"I don't know..." Halford stopped dead, hearing a sound behind them, and seeing something scuttle in the corner of his eye. He was weaponless, as his weapons lay at the bottom of the ravine, no doubt still lodged in the brain of the Hakri.

"I'm without arms, as such, we must use stealth."

Anoriel nodded. They passed through the crowd, moving towards the frozen fields of ice, and she was cautiously looking around herself all of the time. The villagers didn't seem to notice them much - covered in blood and clothes, it was hardly even distinguishable that they were elves.

All of a sudden, the crowd ended. The fields of grinding ice lay open before them, and there was nothing.

Halford didn't follow Anoriel until the crowd had passed, knowing that he was now the target of a witch-hunt.

He had seen this before. He visited somewhere, the first Dark Elf to visit a village, and some disaster followed, which was blamed on his presence, and so he was to be lynched. Or burned. Or crucified. Or ritualistically exorcised.

"Anoriel, don't run off..." He warned her sternly when he caught up to her, before pushing her face first into the snow, and wrestling a lone, wounded Fenresk, feeling it's insatiable hunger and savage strength.

Anoriel rolled over in the snow and slashed the beast with a short dagger, till then hidden in a sheath on her belt. She stood up, and skewed the blade to a weak point in the beast's head. It collapsed, and she ripped the dagger out, breathing heavily.

"He's... He's not in the tavern, is he?" she asked, staring at the corpse. This looked like Athran's work...

"I need weapons if I'm going to do anything." The creatures were blocking his mental connection to Ingemar, but he still had his agility.

"You stay up here and look for Athran. I need to do something." Halford ran back to the cliff, shouting at the procession, letting them get close enough to him to identify that he was indeed the dark elf they were looking for.

Then he jumped into the perpetual abyss.

Anoriel just stared at him in confusion. She didn't know what to do, where to search for Athran, or where has Halford gone... She was alone, and had no clue how to continue. Maybe she should continue searching for Athran...

She returned her dagger back to its sheath, and tripping through the snow, found a way to the fields of grinding ice. In the blizzard, she was almost blinded, but could still recognize a dark shape afar.

Anoriel ran as fast as she could. It was a dragon above the ice... It pulled something out of the water. She was sprinting against the wind, holding her cape to shield herself from the snow, until she reached something on the ground.

"Athran... Athran, can you hear me?" she screamed, grabbing his drenched body. She was worried - he had hardly any clothes on, except for a shirt and parts of his armour. Covering him in her cape, she put one hand onto his neck to see if he's alright...

There was nothing.

She couldn't feel his pulse, or his breathing, when she pressed her palm onto his chest. Almost breaking into panic, she shook him, pressing his chest with her hands and desperately trying to get him to breathe. Tears welled out of her eyes upon not receiving any reply, but suddenly, he opened his eyes.

Catching his breath, Athran sled out of her arms, crawling on the ice and spitting out water. He had no memory of what just happened, all he realized was that it was cold and he was in pain. The last thing he remembered was the embrace of cold waters, and feeling them in his lungs, choking him. Anoriel's arms grabbed him again and pressed him onto her, entwining around his chest and covering him with the black cape.

"I was afraid, Athran... I was afraid about you..." she whispered.

Halford was hanging on by one hand, at the edge of a shelf, above large spiky rocks. He swung, springing off on wall, aiming to clear the spikes.

And he almost made it. His arm took a spiky, icy rock through it, and he yelled in agony, unable to move from where he was, clutching at a rock he hadn't wanted to be anywhere near a few seconds ago.

====================

Ingemar had pulled Athran out of the water, making sure he didn't freeze to death in the ice bath that was the sea.

"It is good to see you are alive..."

"It's cold... It's so cold... Athran muttered. He was losing his conscience again, the water from his clothes, mixed with his crimson blood, soaking into the cape. Anoriel clutched him tighter, but she couldn't stop his eyes from closing.

She looked at Ingemar in desperation. "I can't keep him warm... I'm afraid he'll freeze... Can you... Can you do something?" she asked.

"Unless he's fire proof, then he'll have to warm up against my throat..." Ingemar laid down, staining the snow crimson with his wound from the fight against the Hakri.

"Bring him here."

"He can stand fire... But only when conscious... And he just... Fainted in my arms!" Anoriel replied. She picked him up, softly, not finding his body too heavy without all the weapons and armour, and carried him to Ingemar, shielding them from the wind with the cape.

"I don't know if I could wake him up... Even then, I don't know if he could concentrate... I wouldn't risk the fire. But he's so cold... I'm afraid..." she said, looking up at the dragon.

Halford let tears openly flow from his eyes, and screams escaped as he turned on the rock, tearing the wound more viciously. Then lifting his arm off the spike, and sliding down, reaching a crevice where he sat, and cast a healing spell to prevent himself from bleeding out.

The spell wore him out, and he simply just sat there and cried for a few minutes, waiting for the pain of the wound healing to subside.

Then he examined what was beneath him, and saw a ledge he could try and land on, deciding to try and slide down to it.

========================

Ingemar curled around Athran, breathing a stream of fire over his own wound, and continuing long after cauterisation, using his throat to heat Athran up rapidly.

Anoriel left the cape with Athran, and stepped back from Ingemar. "Thank you... I'll return soon... I have to search for Halford..." she explained him nervously. "Please, don't leave him."

And with those words, she ran off into the distance, following the trail of footsteps she left in the snow.

Athran woke up to the feeling of warmth around himself. As if he sat by a large, blazing fireplace... He opened his eyes to see a large black dragon around himself. "Maigrod..." he muttered, and reached after him, but pulled his hand back only a moment later. When he grabbed his shoulder, he could see blood on his fingers...

"What happened?" he whispered.

"Not Maigrod. Ingemar. You fell unconscious after being exposed to the icy water too long..." Ingemar loosened the curl a bit, speaking to Athran.

"Your sister has gone to look for Halford. I do not know where he is..."

"You... You look like Maigrod..." he replied. "It was... So cold... How did you even... Find me?"

He pressed himself to the dragon's scales, seeking the warmth of his body, and closed his eyes again. The pain was too sharp and strong to ignore - the cold, salty water was still burning him in his lungs, and the bleeding wound on his arm was open and quite long.

He let himself pass into the embrace of sleep again.

In the meantime, Anoriel came to the cliff again. She searched for any sign of Halford, but couldn't find anything... Where could he be? Did... No, that couldn't be. "Halford! Halford, where are you?" she shouted into the wind.

Halford had nearly reached the bottom. He was within a reasonable distance of what looked like a shallow piece of water, which could soften his landing when he got closer.

Suddenly, his footing gave way, and sent him plummeting into the freeing water, which was many times deeper than it appeared, the water crystal clear. He got out of the water before he heard Anoriel's call, and called back up.

"I'm down here!"

Anoriel quickly ran to the staircase on the side of the cliff, rushing to help him up. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" she shouted. It took her only a few moments to get onto the bottom of the cliff, where a narrow beach of ashen gray pebbles lined the shore of the sea.

She looked around herself, searching for him. "Halford, where are you? I can't see you!" she shouted.

Halford was a fair distance away, only just able to hear her and was walking along the shore. He exited from behind a rock, happy to hear Anoriel's voice, when his face and jaw dropped, in an expression of sheer terror.

He pointed to behind Anoriel, where a lumbering, menacing form stood. The four bone swords crackled with energy, and the eyes of the beast glowed bright in the shadow of the crevice. It took a single, menacing step forward, letting itself stand in the light.

"Constructs of single minded flesh... You are weak..."

Anoriel turned around, and grasped at her mouth in horror. This couldn't be...

She grabbed Halford and dragged him in the opposite direction. There was a second, narrower, and more dangerous path that she found, one which this beast couldn't climb... She hoped that they could reach it soon enough, and bolted across the pebbles and shallow water.

"Run with me... There is another path! It's difficult... We will have to walk though water... But this thing... Can't climb it!" she muttered into his ear.

"Th-th-the... That... THING!" Halford was only moving because he was being dragged. The horror of one of those things being intelligent, it's looming presence, and the way it spoke as if it were immortal. The combination, combined with the visual factors, scared Halford stiff. It was terrifying to him.

An indescribable horror.

"That thing... I-I-it just spoke... They're-they're not intelligent.... Are they?!" Halford's cries gave away his emotions instantly, and the creature preyed on it. It rushed forwards, speaking as it went.

"Your instruments of steel and iron are no match for the flesh of my kind. Your earth will quake, your forests will rot, the foundations of every city will crumble under our assault... Do not make any mistake... The Nervana have arrived... And we are very hungry..."

Anoriel covered her ear with the free hand. If some reflex of her was working, it was the one that told her to flee...

But this beast... It was not as beastly as she would expect it to be. It... It talked... She brisked up, dragging Halford behind herself, and ran towards a part of the cliff that ran off the shore into the sea. Her feet sunk into the cold water...

Every thought was pushed aside by the desire to escape, and as she waded through the water, she breathed heavily, focusing only on the way before her.

Gods help us, we have to run away.

Halford was still only running because he was being pulled that direction, but his state of immobile fear was problematic. He was slowing them down, majorly.

The small part of him that could still think steeled himself, and he wrenched away from Anoriel, facing Noldorvi with renewed confidence and courage.

"This is where our journey ends Anoriel. Ingemar will make sure you two get out of here. I'm going to stay and finish this. Go. NOW!" Halford dodged the blades of Noldorvi quickly, taking care to lead him away from Anoriel. There wasn't combat, more Halford looking to wear the beast out if at all possible.

He needed to find a weakness. But the problem was, he had no weapons.

Anoriel stopped, tears of horror streaming from her eyes. What was she doing? Fleeing like a coward! Athran would be ashamed of her. Her father would find her even more useless than before... If Halford had the courage to fight, then she had it too!

Her hands grabbed the bow at her back, and held it firmly, ready to fire a long arrow from it, aimed straight at the beasts's neck. There was a spot she just noticed... Not shielded by the hard carapace.

"I'M NOT A COWARD!!!" she screamed, and let go off the arrow. Her arms were immediately flashing, firing one after one. She was not a coward! She would stand... She would fight...

Halford saw Anoriel jump back into the fray, and snarled, turning his attention away from Noldorvi, and running towards her. He knew she would hate him for this, but he did it anyway.

He threw a punch to her face, aiming to knock her out, to get her away from this monster.

Anoriel instinctively stepped aside from his punch, and kept firing the arrows at the beast. She kept a fair distance, but believed that one of the arrows will hit its target, and slay the monster.

She wasn't going to let anyone be ashamed for her... She would fight!

Halford stopped, but somehow, Dolnorvi moved the gap between them in seconds. And off came Halford's arm.

Halford yelled, falling to the floor, bleeding heavily, and scrambling for his arm, trying to get it in time for the healing spell.

Dolnorvi crushed it underhoof, and his mandibles clicked, as he prepared to strike the final killing blow.

Anoriel screamed in horror, and dropped the bow. She leaped into the air and onto the beast, pulling a knife out in mid-air.

"LOOK AT ME, YOU BEAST!" she screamed, and delved the knife into the beast's neck. She tried to concentrate both at the strike, and reconnecting Halford's arm, but her strength was not enough. Only the bones...

Blood streamed from her mouth, overwhelmed by the energy it took out of her. The beast was shaking beneath her, until it fell. It has been slain... By her... Her brother would be proud.

She rolled over off the corpse, crawling to Halford, and took his face into her hands. She pressed a kiss onto his lips, clutching him with her hands as tight as she could.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry..." she whispered.

"Argh!" Halford threw her off with his good arm, pulling himself over to the remains of his arm, which was nothing but bone dust and gore  now. It was gone.

"My arm... My arm..."

Anoriel stared at him in shock. She stopped his wound from bleeding and it was beginning to heal, but she was unable of making it grow back.

"Why didn't you run?!" Halford stood up, breathing heavily, anger renewing the adrenaline in his body, giving him the energy to heal the stump over, which he did, before grabbing Anoriel's arm, and pulling her up.

He seemed different. Like he'd snapped. And he had.

Anoriel kept staring at him with her eyes, filled with tears. "I couldn't. You were fighting... And I couldn't... I couldn't leave you..." she whispered, but something in her changed, too.

She turned away and ripped her arm from his grip. "I was a fool! I should have left you! You're an ungrateful idiot!" she shouted, wiping the tears off her eyes, and ran off towards the stairs on the cliff.

She was mistaken when she though all the things about him... He was no different, just a rude, shameless prick like Athran. They were all the same... What did she think? To hell with men and their madness!

He watched her run as he seethed with rage at her comment, before shouting after her.

"I WAS PREPARED TO DIE FOR YOU! AND I WOULD HAVE! I WOULD HAVE DIED FOR YOU!" He screamed after her, breathing heavily.

His armour was shredded from the force of one arm, and so he ripped it open, letting it drop to the floor. His bare chest was alive with muscular power, and in an impossible fit of rage, he ripped pieces of carapace off Dolnorvi's corpse, hacking at them, and turning it into plating, which he replaced his armour's plates with, leaving him in purple plated armour that was ten times stronger that steel.

((OOC: [url-http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7ZEQQeN3pdI]This[/url], at time 1:56, the "I WOULDN'T!" That's Halford right now.))

"What good would it be to me if you were dead?" Anoriel shouted back, turning at him in tears. "I know ones like you! You say you'd die for a girl, but don't you think what would a girl do with a corpse?"

She shook her head and covered her eyes, running further away.

"I HAD A PLAN! I HAD A PLAN, YOU STUPID, IGNORANT COW!" Halford took his sword, and began to hack at Dolnorvi's corpse, before hearing the screech of hundreds of Fenresk approaching.

"BRIIING IIIIIIIIIITTTT!" He charged the horde, cutting them down in the dozens, his violence attracting more Fenresk, and his rage keeping him from all harm.

Anoriel ran off, shaking her head. She no longer cared about him... He was exactly what she thought he would be. 

When she returned, she found a running mob, and screaming villagers. They all seemed to be running away from something... She quickly found out what when she finally found the inn. Maigrod, perched at the roof with Athran, partly dressed in his riding armour, most likely scared them to death.

Soon, they were flying away. She cried on his shoulder during the flight, but he didn't even seem to listen. He was just as stupid...

She smacked him into the back of his head. "You're just as much of an ignorant idiot with only bloodshed in your head! I wish I'd never have gone anywhere with you, you fool!" she shouted. Athran only turned his head away. "Shut up. I've honestly had enough of your shit." he growled silently.

If he will have to put up with that during the whole flight, he will snap, too.

The forest was dark, and the grey skin of the figure stumbling through the greenery was an eerie sight. He wore a simple robe, adorned with dark, and his eyes were a pale, ghostly white. His hair had changed from it's pure white, to a greyish colour, and was messy and unkempt.

He stumbled into the village tavern, looking around for any non-local faces, and there he saw Athran and Anoriel. He composed himself, walking over, and sitting down.

"Can you believe it?! Two years, and finally, I see you two again! Oh, how I've sorely missed you both." Halford smiled as he sat down.

"Oh, and Anoriel, look, I got a new one! Made some new friends who gave me it." He smiled, his pale white eyes unnerving and strange.

Anoriel wiped the tears from her eyes. "If you weren't my brother, I'd hate you to death!" she whispered. Athran's reply was only a growl. He has changed, appearing far more vicious than years ago, his eyes lined with thick lines of black kohl and his hair in unkept strings, falling into his face, while his sister was still just as innocent and angelic as always, but her face was red from tears.

"It's honestly the last thing I care about. If you weren't my sister, you'd be dead." He snarled at her from the other side of the table. His eyes were glinting with fey rage and hatred, and she pulled herself back at the sight. "You're not my brother. I don't recognise you." she muttered. She was about to continue, when a stranger approached them.

Anoriel didn't recognise Halford, but Athran did. He gave him a lousy salute instead of a greeting, and remained silent, frowning from the shadows. The candlelight glinted on a few chains and spikes on his armour as he moved, but otherwise, his figure was as black as night.

Halford's expression was one of strange glee, with a hint of psychopathy behind it, not noticeable, for he seemed, for all intents and purposes, happy.

"I do hope we aren't arguing. I think a few minutes apart would help you two. Anoriel, care to come for a quick walk, catch up?" Halford stood, gesturing eagerly for her to follow him. His pale skin, grey hair and white eyes were unnerving, his pupils now lizard like slits instead of circles.

Anoriel shook her head. "I'm sorry, I can't go right now..." She cast a glance at her brother, but was met with an iron curtain of cold rejection. "Go. Get out of my sight." He growled. As he bent over to the table, it could be seen how much he changed - the dark hair and outlined eyes were too striking in his deathly pale skin, and losing even more weight, his features appeared even sharper.

She stared at both in confusion. She was stuck between too scary, hostile elves.

"Come, Anoriel. Your brother does not desire your company, where as I could use it." He smiled sweetly, gesturing for her to come to what seemed like a more welcoming set of arms. If only that were true.

"So, I see that tensions are rather high right now?"

Anoriel, not expecting anything bad, abruptly stood up and followed him, still covering her eyes with one hand. "I hate him. I hate him." she repeated, shaking her head wildly. But the presence of another person was calming, and she was glad for Halford to find them, although she was scared of him at once.

He turned wild and dangerous-looking... Resembling her maddened brother more than she'd like.

"I know how it feels to hate. But, you get over it. There are always more positive qualities in a person that you hate, that you fail to see in anger." Halford's words sounded charming and nice when spoken blandly, but spoken with his words, they were sinister, and frightening.

"Come, I'll show you where I've taken up residence."

Anoriel nodded, too distracted to see anything more behind it, any wrong intentions, and followed, holding onto him. "He changed and I'm afraid of him. I don't recognise him anymore... He's mad, completely mad..." She poured her heart out, talking of Athran, their father, how she tries to help bring them back together, and all turned out wrong when Athran found out about all.

"I just wanted to help him, but when he learned of the truth... He went mad. I'm scared... I feel like one day he'll come and kill me. I don't see my brother in him anymore..." she cried.

"I can help. Come, let me show you salvation." Halford led her away from the village, taking a small path, marked by black stones, which stood about a meter high.

"You can meet my friends. We can even have dinner..." Halford grinned at the thought the forest growing dark and gloomy as they entered into a clearing, with a stone table, and lots of people dressed in the same sort of robes as Halford.

Anoriel shook her head. "No, thank you. I appreciate it... And you're very nice to me... But this is my trouble. I..." she sobbed, and hid her face in Halford's sleeve. She didn't know what to say. For the past weeks, she was just confused, pushed around by everybody...

She grabbed Halford's shoulder, and pulled him aside. "Please, follow me... I want to show you something..." she whispered, clutching her fingers around his arm.

"Very well then. But I must insist that you stay. It wouldn't be dinner without you." Halford beckoned for her to lead the way, before turning and giving a smile to the other men, who also smiled at him.

Halford turned back to Anoriel, smiling.

Anoriel raised herself to her tiptoes and pressed her lips onto him, gripping his shoulders with her small hands.

She was sorry when she just left him there like that... She already thought he died there, and she didn't even get the chance to apologize for being so rude...

Halford smiled when she kissed him, kissing her cheek, and slowly advancing to her neck.

Unbeknownst to her, he had let a paralyzing toxin into her blood stream, absorbing it straight inside her mouth. Within seconds she would be unable to move, only capable of breathing and moving her eyes.

Anoriel softly grabbed his face, and turned it back to her own, kissing him passionately, and without knowing about it, released a part of the toxin back into him.

"I'm sorry I let you there back then... But I was a fool..." she whispered to his ear.

"And you still are..." Halford's skin itself began to react to the toxin, neutralising it. It wasn't a powder under his tongue, it was a natural toxin in his body.

He pushed her back, smiling as his skin began to peel and rot away rapidly, revealing a horrible, skeleton like creature with razor teeth, a tentacle like tongue, and pure black eyes.

The toxin would paralyze her before the transformation completed, and she would find herself unable to speak, scream, or move, just a limp pile of flesh.

Anoriel felt her body slowly going numb, and only watched in horror how Halford turned into something unnatural...

She wanted to scream, but couldn't even move to do that. Her eyes turned upside down, and paralyzed with terror, she fainted, falling onto the ground.

"I did say that dinner wouldn't be dinner without you... HahahahahaHAHAHAHAHAH! YOU'RE THE MAIN COURSE AFTER ALL!" Halford picked her leg up, dragging her back to the stone table, where the rest of them had become the same monsters.

"Hang her up on the chains, and remove her clothes. Cloth and leather will ruin the taste of her sweet, bleeding flesh."

Anoriel, still completely unconscious, couldn't make a move, and the men didn't meet with any protests from her.

Anoriel would wake up suspended over the table by spiked chains, in a dark, stone room lit only by torch light. None of the monstrous beings were around, instead, the room was decorated with skulls, and the walls bloodstained. The grey stone table below he looked more like an altar, which was splattered with blood.

Her clothes had been removed, and she had been marked with symbols drawn in her blood, taken from the palms of her hands.

The only indication that she wasn't going to die of age or hunger was that there was noise nearby, down a corridor, where inane babble could be heard, as well as Halford's voice.

"She will be as sweet and fresh as I promised you my brothers... Nyhahahaha!"

Now conscious and partly able to move, Anoriel woke up on a stone board. The room was cold and damp, the sharp odor of smoke lingering in the air, and she was almost crying. Instinctively pulling her legs to her chest as much as the chains would let her, she covered herself.

Tears welled from her eyes as she heard the voices. She was sure she knew what they were going to do... And didn't like it at all.

"She will bleed like the rest, she is very much alive. Start with her limbs, like the last one, she'll stay alive longer... You will get your meal..." Halford's voice sounded raspy and snake-like in this undead form.

"No, we cannot go and feed now... We must wait until midnight to regain our full strength... And no, she cannot become one of us... She does not know of our curse..." Halford's voice seemed to move further away, as if down a corridor or passageway.

Anoriel clenched her teeth and pulled the chains as hard as she could. She wished to be at least half as strong as her brother to break them...

She kept pulling her hands and feet out of them, until one of her bloodied hands slipped out of the cuffs. It was one of the few moments when she was grateful for being so tiny. The chains themselves were beginning to crack at her continuous effort when she gripped the other one that restrained her hand, and eventually, she freed herself.

Without making a sound, she slipped off the table and crawled to the pile of her clothes in the corner, still crying.

It was nearly midnight, and Halford was preparing the seasonings and candles for the ritual.

One of the zombie creatures had decided to take a leisurely stroll into the ritual room, to feast on Anoriel, when it saw she wasn't above the altar. Confused, it entered the room, unable to see Anoriel above the altar, and wondering where it's meal was.

Anoriel's fist hit the zombie right into the back of its skull, knocking him over, and stomped onto his head with her shoes, trying to crack it. She kept her mouth shut, finally regaining enough sense to keep her mind cool.

She prayed for Athran to forsake his wrath and find her again...

Please. I'll forget all hatred I ever had for you, just save me! I don't want to be eaten... Athran, where are you? Please, save me...

The zombie-creature's head turned to mush under the force of the stomping, and for a minute everything remained normal.

Then tendrils began to scoop up the pieces of brain and skull, and reassemble them, the zombie getting up, and snarling, before letting off a horrid screech, alerting Halford the problem.

Anoriel almost screamed when the creature stood up and screeched, but as she stepped back, she hit another dark figure.

The spiked armour her shoulders touched, hard surface of steel and leather and grip of fingers, as hard as iron, was familiar to her. He returned...

Athran raised one hand, and the zombie crashed into his opened palm. His hand closed in a matter of a moment, and he broke the skull. Pulling it up, the spine cracked, severing the head. The body was suddenly on fire, and so was the head, burning to nothing  but ash in a few moments.

No matter how Anoriel hated his new self, his improved strength was sure useful.

The zombie let off another horrific screech as it died, which was matched by others, and the sounds of running filled the corridors, the volume increasing.

"So he came to save you, how sweet. But that's ok. That's more food for us to eat. Sorry Athran. Today, you both die! GET THEM!"

"Die." Athran said silently, tilting his head aside. "Die. What a funny word." Anoriel pressed herself onto his chest, sensing something bad coming.

"I'm sorry, but I don't know the meaning of the words 'I die'." he chuckled. He stomped onto the ground, and the whole tunnel shook like a strong earthquake. A wall of black flames with blazing purple tips sprang off the ground, forming a shield around them, and he reached after one of the scimitars on his back, while holding Anoriel with his other arm.

"Whatever gets into my way dies. I'm sorry that today the pleasure will be yours... Heck, I'm not even sorry! DIE!" he shouted.

As the pair exited out into the corridor, they would see the whole cult mindlessly charging them, with Halford standing behind them, watching with rage in his eyes.

Athran just laughed. Whatever got near to the flames, growing larger and more hungry over time, immediately caught on all-consuming fire. His laughter, too, grew louder, and he simply stood there, waiting for everybody to rush into the flames and burn like a torch.

None of them could put them out...

Anoriel was scared, seeing those maddened eyes, glowing in darkness, and fey grin, stretched through his face. He was scaring her...

Halford took a few steps forward, becoming a larger version of the zombie-creatures, his jaws widening, and his eyes disappearing. Soon he looked like a pure monstrosity (http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20130105140604/nazizombiesplus/images/4/4c/Mega_Crawler.jpg) of a being.

"DIE ELVISH SCUM!"

Athran's eyes narrowed. "After you..." he whispered, and charged forth, the blade glowing with the same black flames as the circle around him, and they were slowly spreading onto his arm. Anoriel, hiding behind his back, followed him with tears in her eyes.

Whatever was happening, it was evil...

Halford's seemingly blind charge ended up with him getting stuck with the first four inches of the sword.

For a minute, he seemed injured. Then he grabbed the crossguard of the sword, and dragged himself onto it.

"Stone shall rot, and flesh will melt in the presence of the god I plan to unleash upon this world. Headstones will be pushed aside as the god of all that is unholy will make his way here, allowing us to feast on the warm shells of your corpses as he crushes every soul there is." He wrapped his hands around Athran's throat, opening his maw wide, ready to take a chunk out of the mad elf's face.

Athran kicked him off, completely blazing with fire, and ripped the hands from his throat. "I made a pact, too. That god would welcome me..." he snarled.

"And you will welcome the darkness. Death which is everlasting." He clenched his own hands around Halford, and his teeth suddenly seemed sharp. "I am fire... I am death!" he cried.

"The air that all creatures breathe will be filled with the fumes of the corpses of every being that does not serve, and those that serve will be granted haven in the madness of his glory. The bells will ring dissonance, and the orchestra of your demise will sing glorious decay. It will be beautiful..." The tongue inside Halford's mouth turned into a tendril which wrapped around Athran's throat.

"I do not need air. Do you?" The dry tendril began to constrict, and strangle.

Athran's fingers clenched around the tongue and ripped it out of its owner's mouth. "I don't." he laughed, and pressed his hand, still holding the tongue, set on fire, onto his face.

He gripped him with his other hand, and pulled him closer to himself. His whole body was blazing with fire, and he bent his head to Halford's neck.

And he bit him in an attempt to rip a piece of flesh off.

Halford felt no pain, and the toxins and poisons that ran through Halford would now infest Athran, beginning to slowly kill him.

"You are a fool. You have sealed your own grave. And mine will lay a thousand leagues above yours, piled on the corpses of everything you have ever cared for."

Athran proceeded to completely set himself on fire that burned in his very veins, not only above his skin. They burned anything that could harm him, and the toxins were soon extinguished.

"I care for naught. Death's the pleasure..." he snarled. "Fire. Death. And the world shall burn and die... Let me begin with you..."

"And I will welcome it with open arms, as I know that the skies will fill with smoke, and that skeletons will earth the land, laying the foundation for the house of decay. The world shall know it's herald, the herald of their doom. And that name, is Sidyrux!" The fire on Halford's body burned brightly, and he began to laugh, his body slowly turning to ash as the fire struggled to consume him.

Eventually however, the fire prevailed, and he was no more.

Athran's loud laughter echoed through the corridor. "I am... Victorious..." he cried, and turned to Anoriel. She stared at him in fear, and pressing her back to the wall, ran out, crying in horror. He has gone completely mad.

He followed her. The remaining toxins have gotten into his brain, twisting his perception of reality, and he saw her as a running prey, hungry for more battle and death. He chased her. He was no longer thinking about his actions, only did what his instincts told him to...

Anoriel ran out to the darkness of the night, and stopped just before she would fall off a cliff, towering above a river, roaring in the darkness of a valley below. Her brother has caught up with her, and grabbed her by the neck from behind.

When she turned to him, she saw utter madness in his eyes. There was void... She grabbed his hands and tried to pull them away, her eyes mirroring terror. "Athran... Stop... I'm your sister, I'm not your enemy! Please... Let me go! Athran, please..." she cried, shaking in his hands.

Suddenly, something in that glance broke. He no longer appeared crazy... His hands softly slipped from her, and grabbed the Black Sword. His mind was clear... He knew what to do. This was the only way.

"I'm sorry, Anoriel... I'm sorry I failed you..." he whispered. The long blade was pointed at his chest, and he dropped to his knees. Anoriel reached out after him, not entirely understanding what is happening, and watched the blade of the Black Sword touch his chest with its sharp tip.

It didn't stop there. Tears welled out of her eyes when she saw what was this going to end as, but she couldn't stop it. It was inevitable... He made a mistake, one that couldn't be corrected. This was salvation, this was freedom. Definitive freedom. This was the light he searched for.

His crimson blood flowed out of the deep wound, and the sword was still sinking in at a speed that grew with every moment. It was driven to his chest so deep that the sharp metal completely pierced his lung and heart, but his face was calm. He fell back onto the ground, staring at the stars with his bright eyes that reflected every one of them like a perfect mirror.

They slowly closed, and there was fire no more.

Anoriel looked down at him, tears falling out of her eyes. He appeared like she remembered him in her youth - beautiful, almost angelic, innocent and fair, blessed with grace and eternal youth. All rage, hate, pain and sorrow was gone. He appeared only deeply sleeping...

He felt cold. A veil of darkness covered his vision. There indeed was light at the end of the tunnel... Bright... There was salvation for the lost.

He felt as light as the light itself, slowly rising from the earth. There was no body anymore, there was nothing, and the pain was only a short moment before every earthly emotion was gone.

Death.

Death was salvation.

Death was freedom.

And light overtook the darkness.

Anoriel herself fell to her knees, choking on her own tears. "Athran! Athran... Athran, no, don't... You can't... Athran!" she cried, shaking her head wildly, but she knew that this was the truth.

The Black Sword was gone.

His eyes were closed, there were no more stars. Only darkness. Only void.