A lion, a Witch, and a Weasel

[tekraa]

"I did not mean to raise your ire.  Relationship is not perhaps the right word.  In my experience with the man-" Six or so scorpions now, more than enough, he would store the tails for later use.  "He is pure evil, insofar as our morals are concerned." He gestured off handedly to the mage. "People often look on us with disdain, soldiering and killing that is.  It is not often you see soldiers weep, but that man...the monster, Werglk.  It is ironic though, this is the third time we have encountered... him.  The first two times I would swear he was dead, but when thinking back neither of us truly landed the death blow...no, it was more fortunate happen stance, in our favor of course, that his own magics went awry and wound up... gravely wounding him to the point no mere mortal would have survived? Sounds feasible, I think."  rambling again the swordsman looked thoughtful, he leaned back now, sun catching his face, it was pink already, no less than two hours in the sun. Despite his travelers tan, nothing could truly help in this sun.

Dred'Rikath shifted an uneasy hand to the gold worked hilt of his sword, the engravings on the bottom depicting a dragon, this particular brand of sword was common among high ranking Adela officers. He focused on it for a long could of minutes before turning his attention back to the woman before him.  She was graceful in a fight, but had fought with desperation.  From the shadows he had seen what she was fighting for, the child he had saved.  He would not tell her, of course, she didn't need to know that he knew.  Years of soldiering had taught him to hold his information, he might be open about himself but most people, killers especially, were not open about themselves.  She could kill him now, if she wanted. Laying back in the sand he let the heat soak in, it was a nice change, from the muddy sodden forest they had been in, if not a bit drastic.  

"A particularly painful poison, this one, aye.  I was subject to its effects a few times.  An assassin then?  Correct me if I am wrong.  Mercs and sell swords are typically more gruff, they lact tact and grace, and tactical sense for that matter.  Nor do they ever fight with such obscene purpose." Brown eyes popped open and gazed down from where he lay, addressing Silverd'art once more "I had a dragon once, you see, and our cohort had been sent just off the border of Serendipity to investigate some strange goings on, and by strange I mean missing kids and missing people and walking dead, abominations roaming the forests, the sorts of things that people distanced from civilization make up to keep people away.  Eventually, after several weeks we met a man, our troops had dwindled greatly, and this man you see, he was killing children."  Eyes closed once more, remembering, it was grievous this thing, dark.... "And he killed my dragon, a sad day let me tell you.  His name was Werglk."  

Atar'Ashi groaned and rolled from his back to his side but did not appear to be waking.  Sweat beaded down his face,  Dred would have to make the salve soon, probably.  It could wait a few minutes longer, though.  ""It's the level of your swordsmanship you see, the way you move and how private you are.  Gives you away as an assassin I think.  Unless I'm wrong."

[GoblinFae]

With great patience each word was heard and saved for later. The assassin quietly observed without judgement. That would come later. For now she simply stored all the information she could gather to be used later should she need it.

Some of what was told to her was new information but most of it she had heard first hand from Werglk himself. The man loved to brag, especially when he believed he had a captive audience. Being his student had certainly a trial of her patience and will. The fact she had not attempted outwardly to kill him was a testament to either her strength or foolhardiness.

"You are not wrong. My chosen profession is that of a taker of life for profit. Though I am not so sure your reasonings are correct for I can identify completely different reasons for my being the way I am. Grace, swordsmanship, secrecy, you sir have clearly never dabbled much in politics."

Bending at the waist from how she sat, Tiraris crossed her arms in front of her to use as a pillow for her chin. "So is sleeping beauty ever going to awaken or are you going to have to lug his carcass around?" She refused to volunteer herself to help. The assassin had her own problems to deal with, namely the heat. With an exasperated groan she sat up again and removed her boots, burying her feet in the sand soon after and relishing in the semi-coolness below the surface.

[tekraa]

Dred narrowed his eyes and sat forward, rolled to his knees and then stood.  Quickly he brushed the sand off his knees and back.  Silverd'art seemed to be in a hurry.  Well, he would oblige her, considering she was wearing black chain the heat would be sweltering, she would be lucky to march until nightfall in it.  Crouching down over his cloak he carefully packed the scorpions and scorpion tails in it, rolled it up and tied it with the length of cloth he had cut free.  He then loosed his belt, rearranged his hilt and looped the makeshift satchel through it.  "If we musts march, we must march." He sang, to no one in particular.

Fixing a hard look on Atar'Ashi he moved over to his side, leaned close, and listened to his breathing.  Steady, a good sign.  Dred stripped the man of his cloak, prepared it the same way and attached it to the light mans' belt.  Heaving upward he pulled the man over his shoulder and stood.  The mage wasn't a terribly large man but the added weight would make the march, at least until the man awake...if he did.  "I have spent a lot of time avoiding politics, sadly, sometimes it is unavoidable."  Keen eyes looked past Silverd'art as he began walking, grunted at his first stride, shifted Atar's weight, and then set an ambitious pace in the direction this Silverd'art had pointed out some time ago.

He did not like silent marches, no soldier did.  The only armies that marched in silence were the ones marching to their deaths, and those ones knew it.  No, unlike his ever brooding companion Atar, he did not like the silence.  It always seemed foreboding.  "Tell me, Silverd'art.  If you dabble in politics one would assume you are well read, are you a student of history?"

[GoblinFae]

'Of course, I get comfortable; he decides to move. A simple question sends him off and running. Typical male through and through,' her mind complained as she jammed her feet back into her boots and laced them up again.

She soon fell into stride beside him, keeping on ear cocked towards the earth to follow the sound of the water in case it should change paths on them. "I once was a student of many disciplines. But, that was a long time ago when I was still sweet and impressionable. Now my only master teacher is the one called life. Every day brings a multitude of new lessons. However, that was not what you were asking."

Tiraris paused trying to think of the right words to say but, her mind kept drifting back to hot summer days spent indoors pouring over tomes of her lands history over and over again before a tall lanky boy with a winsome smile could convince her to abandon her studies. She shook her head sharply, dispelling the memory and returning herself back to the present.

"I am not an advocate of either politics or history. Both are things I have had to endure far too many pompous lectures on to really find any joy in either. However, in the nature of asking questions since it seems that you will continue to chatter until you find something to get me to be less guarded in a communication, let me pose one of you. Why do you wish to know of my studies?"

[tekraa]

"It's simple politics is it not?  Common practice to assess ones potential allies, or enemies, prior to engaging them...alas, my interest is of neither nature, we are walking through a deathly hot desert, and I am lugging an entire body of dead weight.  I am simply curious about you.  I do not ask any intimate details, unless you want me to, of course" He was grinning again. "  Dred sniffed the air, the breeze was very faint and it carried the the smell of something dead.  Not recent, or, not so recent that the desert wouldn't handle it quickly enough.  Scavengers abounded here, waiting, opportunistic for everything weaker than they to pass.

The horizon shimmered in the distance ahead of them, the sun overheard slowly crawling toward its destination.  Darkness would not come soon enough, and even then he would not slow much.  A quick break for water and food, and then they needed to keep moving until first light.  Rest would desperately be needed by the end of this evening, and he hoped to find shelter for that.  Atar'Ashi had managed to surprise him again.  Not that that was uncommon, but every time he thought he had the measure of the man he now shouldered, the mage would come out with another surprise.  Year after year Dred had begun to suspect that he was more than simple mage soldier, and more likely should be ranked among the greats that served kings and queens, and more and more it was apparent that he was right.  If Werglk  was some demon spawned immortal god destroyer of the underworld then it was likely Atar was his bane.

That they had survived this long was a testament to luck.  Some would say skill, or blessed, some would say they were champions coming out alive from what they and there brethren soldiers had seen, but he maintained it was nothing but sheer, dumb, luck.  Often, he wondered if they Adela military tracked them, ever on the hunt for deserters from their iron clad military fist- not that they had been in hiding, if they truly wanted to prosecute them they needed simply look out their back door for years, but he always wondered.  His dragging steps pulled him to a stop, he had not been paying attention to Silverd'art and noted that in his brooding he had gained several strides on her.  Sweat had drenched his clothing and he was paying it no mind, it would not be long until dark now, the shadows were getting long and the sky was beginning to show hues or orange and red.  In the back of his mind he made note that they had been travelling at an uphill grade for quite awhile now, eventually it would level off, and hopefully slope downward to water.  He hoped Silver'dart was right.  She would have corrected his course were he to be heading from the direction of this under ground water source, right?

The swordsman paused to let Silverd'art come astride him and set off once more, more and more frequently the man on his shoulder groaned as he walked, the bounce of his strides clearly not allowing for an easy rest, nor did he think the mage would rest easy after the magics he had unleashed, especially under this baking sun.  A glance down at his arms showed him they were burnt.  In the distance he spotted a sign post, he couldn't tell if it was a warning or a road marker.  The desert people often left way stones or fetishes to identify locations with water, for survival, but as of yet he had spotted none.  The sign post would likely have been plotted by merchants, or could have been a trick of bandits.  

"Ever we do seek, finding naught but destruction in our wake, the crumbled cities of our own creation."  The tones when he spoke were harsh, the words he spoke were in archaic Thanati, a form closely related to their current tongue, but distinctly difference in the structuring of the sentences.  He had found the words in an ancient scroll, barely decipherable, many years ago.  The truth always rang true to him.  He glanced in Silverd'art's direction awaiting her reaction.

[GoblinFae]

She nodded her head in agreement but said nothing more about his questions. She did not want to know what he thought of her. It was none of her business and would only open up a huge can of worms in her opinion. There had to be a strict line between them or complications of the heart would arise. Tiraris could not allow herself to harbor emotional attachments of any sort. They would only serve to impede and distract her in the end.

The assassin had her own dark past that she was running from. Much like the blue eyes that were haunting her now, there were always triggers that made her feel vulnerable. She hated feeling weak and had done everything in her power to the point of locking herself up inside and slamming the door on the rest of the world to ensure she could not be hurt.

At last the sun was beginning its descent in the sky but, Tiraris could not take the heat anymore. Her stubbornness was very close to killing her. Her skin felt like it had been rubbed raw from the sand and sweat that caused the armor to stick to her painfully.

She smiled to hear his words, glancing at him in respectful awe before turning her gaze to the horizon. "While we sought to conquer the world we in turn were made subservient and returned home to far less than which we started."

Tiraris bowed her head to him. "You speak it well. Few have studied that tongue and most scholars I have heard butcher its presentation. It comes easy to you. I commend you." Putting her pride aside she reached a gentle hand out and placed it on the soldier's shoulder and sighed. "We should stop now. When night falls we can move again when it is cooler. There is no use burning what little energy we do have when we will need it to keep warm tonight."

What the assassin was not telling him was that the underground stream had forked. The path to the right was stronger flowing but twisted and returned in the direction they had come from. The water to the left was quieter suggesting two possibilities. Either it disappeared deeper within the earth and she could lose it before the find it or it came to an abrupt end. She did not know which way to go. Either route could be closer than the other or lead them needlessly further than where they should be going. Rest could possible give her the peace of mind to come to a decision. Right now all she wanted to do was lay still for a moment and temper her breathing so that each inhalation did not feel as if she were being squeezed to death.

[tekraa]

Dred nodded at her suggestion, her touch surprised him, but if he felt any unease at the gesture he did not show it. He pointed to their right and gestured, not far from where they were now, perhaps a five minute walk, and they would find glorious shelter from the sun  Three pillars of earth, two smaller ones with a larger one weighing heavily to one side, balanced atop the others.   They were thrust rust upward at awkward angles, looking as though magic had struck, or perhaps just an earthquake. The rust colored rocks sparkled in the sunlight. Trapped within the pillars were various gem stones, pieces of glass, and crystal. Occasionally, when the sun would hit a crystal just right, it could refract and cause a small rainbow. With practiced ease she shifted the weight of the mage and balanced Atar on his shoulder then struck off in the direction of the formation. His face and arms were sun burnt pretty badly, no doubt the mage was just as bad off.  A faint, tired smile creased his lips.  

"Archaic Thanati has close ties to a few other, forgotten languages.  There is an elder Fae language,"  It was, in fact, plain worrisome to the soldier.  He was familiar with Moraki, and he decided this was in fact the Moraki desert, it was notorious for missing travelers and tales of beasts aplenty.  They had seen some fiends in their own treks across the wasteland expanse, but most of the tales were spun to scare people,, an age old warning about not straying from the roads.  Beasts, however, were a different story.  They had survived encounters, not all of them but enough to heed the warnings and hear wisdom from the eldest of people who spoke them.  Some of them had wielded magics distinctly fae in their feel, and their manifestation.  Perhaps they were just shades and ghosts, shadows of an empire of 'ole, sufferers of magicks and their sins or curses that have prevented their departure.  He relaxed slightly as the outcropping drew closer.

[GoblinFae]

Again the assassin nodded. Her own native tongue was of the older fae languages that many had forgotten save for the Tirians whose culture demanded its continuance. She shrugged and followed him, not feeling the least bit sheepish for not seeing the outcrop. Tiraris was tired and miserable, she could only imagine how the other two felt.

While heatstroke began to set in for her, she was at least saved from the painful burns that covered her travel companions. Tiraris had already decided that once they stopped she would immediately strip off her armor, self-consciousness be damned. She could always knock Dred'Rikath out if he decided to get uncomfortable.

They had almost reached their desired destination when a tall figure suddenly jumped out from behind a sand dune to the assassin's right. On instinct she unsheathed her sword, stopping an attack aimed for her head. A dry rumbling sounded from the man's chest as he broke their lock and lowered his bludgeon.

"You have gotten slow little Zeyna. What's the matter? Heat starting to get to you?"

An uncharacteristic smile lit up her face as she flung herself at the man to give him a one-armed hug. "Raflroi!" Her embrace was accepted for a brief moment before the desert nomad was pulling away again.

"Fool girl, you're going to get yourself killed. How are you not half-baked already?" His eyes peered out from inside his face wrap to examine the two men. "And you, shouldn't you have known better than to let her wander around like this? You had mind enough to care for yourself but not a woman? Where is your head at boy?"

Beside him, Tiraris snickered, knowing it was her own stubbornness that had prevented Dred'Rikath from doing so. "Come," he called still glaring at the swordsman and distracting her from her thoughts. "The caravan is just up ahead. Better to get you three misfits watered and cooled off before you become buzzard feed."

[tekraa]

In only two heart beats Dred'Rikath had managed to set his friend down and draw his sword from a defensive posture, the muscles of his shoulders and back stiff from the days march, the stance he sank into came with ease and his muscles almost instantaneously relaxed into the position.  The worst flashed through his mind in an instant, eyes scanning rapidly for more assailants as Silverd'art turned the assault that was brought toward her, nothing of the moment settled his unease.  Placed defensively between the two before him and his friend, the point of his blade dipped low, defenses dropping slightly during their exchange.

"Boy?" He asked, the expression on his face and tone of his voice would have seemed comical.  He was at a loss right now.  It chafed to be accused thus, it was the fool woman's own fault she was baking in black steel under a desert sun, and oh it was the Moraki sun no less.  The man's accent was clear enough to his ears, his own assessment had been correct, but for a caravan to be here meant they were no doubt near civilization.  Travelling from one end of the continent to another, and the woman had chanced an encounter with an ally.  What were the odds?  Was this all a trap, some divine gamble of twisted gods?  First Mordecai, then Werglk, now this.  Everything was out of control.  This was not what they had signed up for.  Teetering on the verge of exhaustion the swordsman blinked then slammed his blade back into its' sheath.

"She refused my advice." He bristled, speaking perfect Essyrni.  Dred took a quick step back as motion caught the corner of his eye.  Atar'Ashi, sunburnt, eyes blood shot.  The mage looked around quizically, brushed some sand off his pants, shrugged, and winced.

"Water, you said, friend?" he croaked, throat dry and raspy, then cracked a grin at the three standing before him.

[GoblinFae]

Raflroi rolled his eyes but nodded his head along. There was no forcing the assassin to do anything she did not want but, that did not mean he would not give the other man a hard time. "Well then you should have been more convincing! She is a woman and a fool one at that. If you are going to drag her along then you have to be able to take care of her."

Tiraris for her part did nothing to dissuade the tall man from yelling at Dred. She was actually thoroughly enjoying it. That is until the mage decided to remind her of his existence. Her face darkened and the smile vanished as she took a heavy water-skin from the nomad and knelt beside Atar'Ashi to offer it to him.

She resisted beating him into a bloody pulp immediately instead deciding to wait until he was a bit more recovered and had at least the semblance of a fighting chance. "You are in for a hellstorm of trouble mage, just so you know. Hurry up and get better because I do not think my patience will last much longer to deliver your reward for this," she growled, settling only when a calming hand squeezed her shoulder. Her hand still twitched beside her though, itching to smack the mage clear across the face. No one took advantage of her.

[tekraa]

Atar smartly only took only a few small sips of water, any more risked making himself ill at this point and he knew it.  He managed his most gracious look, all the while wincing as she berated him.  He blinked his doubled vision into focus, cleared his throat, and began to stand.  Upright the shorter man wobbled a bit on his feet, head canted towards Tiraris before he addressed her.  "Most gracious for the water, sir." he said to Raflroi.

The mage frowned suddenly looking around, his mouth moving as he visibly counted the people around him, eyes shifting from Dred, to Raflroi, and then back to Silverd'art.  "Why did you follow us?" he accused, confusion wrinkling his brows as he counted again, this time on his fingers, and then growled out loud.  "That horses arse, I can't believe he did this."  Atar stomped his foot like a child, kicking at the sand afterward, he had just appeared to take in the fact they were in a desert.  "Moraki!?  How did he do it! We should be in Serendipity, but here!? ...."  The mages voice trailed off as he muttered to himself, turning away from the group and walking several paces away as he ranted to no one in particular.

Dred'Rikath had a particularly amused expression on his face, particularly when the mage, amidst his tantrum after marching away, wobbled to one side, fell over, and dusted himself.  His unease seemed to abate for the moment and then he turned to cold stare on Raflroi.  "Who said I was incapable of caring for her?  I was going to remove her armor once she passed out, no sense losing digits beforehand.  Haven't you seen her waving that sword about?"

[GoblinFae]

Tiraris growled but remained put, solely because of the strong head that still kept her firmly in place. "If you had attempted such a thing you would have lost more than your digits!"

"Settle Petal!"
"Do not call me that!" she hissed again, turning her ire towards Raflroi and raising a fist as if to strike.

The man shook his head, smartly keeping silent as he rolled his eyes to Dred'Rikath over her head and caught her hand gently. "Go you. If you do not get that armor off soon, all our heads will be rolling and I know a certain little boy who would be very disappointed with you if he didn't have his papa coming home to him."

Her head popped up at that piece of information. Forgetting about the men or more likely, choosing to ignore them, Tiraris took off at a dead run in the direction the enormous man had come from.

Raflroi sighed and shrugged. "Women," he declared as if it explained everything. "Come, gather your friend before he finds quicksand. He can do his ranting in the shade, just as well as the sun. And forgive me but, I am Raflroi," he stuck out his hand to shake, "and you both are?"

[tekraa]

Dred'Rikath took the man's hand and offered the tradition Essyrn greeting.  Women, was right.  This woman in particular, hard and willful as she was, had a weak spot for children that one could see plain as day, even after his brief time with her.  "Atar" he snapped, turning his attention from man to mage.  Atar stopped his ranting and tantrum after a moment and staggered back toward his friend and Raflroi.

"I am Dred'Rikath Tenull" clear, well spoken common now, his voice was calm and even, hiding his exhaustion well even as he presented himself, one hand then flicking toward his companion "And this is-"

"Atar'Ashi, Tenull" the mage interjected quickly, voice still hoarse, exhaustion clear in his eyes and the sluggish way he moved.  Dehydration had set in for the mage quickly, but Dred knew if it came to it the man could perk up instantly.  He could not wait for a share of water and a meal, and shelter from this sun.  Dred'Rikath offered Atar his shoulder, and the mage nodded obligingly and took it.  To the swordsman the man looked the walking dead, the ordeal of the day having clearly taken him for the worst, if it had been only a day.  He wasn't so sure now, the gate could have drained them quite a bit more and passed any varying amount of time for the distance they traveled.

Attentions turned back to Raflroi, both men nodded almost simultaneously, but only Dred spoke.  "It is an honor, sir.  We are gracious of your offer for water and the security of your caravan.  If puzzles me though, sir, how you knew we were here in the first place.  I make no accusations, but after the days' events it is unnerving."

Atar'Ashi cackled aloud, a smile creasing his lips and causing him to wince because of the sun burn "We're in a desert, twit.  Probably saw you two leagues away, staggering like a hunch back with me over your shoulder."  Dred'Rikath smiled slightly, glad to have his friend awake again, grating as he was.

"As you say, mage..."

[GoblinFae]

"Well met, my friends. However, it is not quite as simple as just being the desert. My young son shares a very close bond with our fiery desert flower. Zeyna's aura is like no other and my son has somehow managed to capture her heart. She is a wildfire that one, but I'm sure you know that already," Raflroi chatted with them, smiling as the large caravan wagons came into view and with them a tall red-haired figure.

Tiraris ignored their approach as now shed of her heavy armor she clutched a frail child close and spun him about. The boy smiled toothily though and uncoordinately waved, ending up elbowing the assassin in the head in the process. His motions belied how frail and sickly he was but his eyes told of an inner strength that could not be rivaled. They were shocking in appearance, a deep blue set in a gaunt dark-skinned face.

"You stealing my son now, Zeyna? Is this the treatment I deserve for saving your life twice now?"
"Not my fault Alberich love me more than you."
"You always make him smile. You should have seen him when he caught wind of you. It was like someone had set a fire under his seat, wouldn't sit still, wouldn't obey. You are a terrible influence."
"And he is a blessing in mine," she replied softly and kissed the boy's cheek.

Turning her gaze at last to her former companions Tiraris raised a brow in challenge to the mage. "So sleeping beauty decided to wake up at last, did she? You better thank this little boy for being in my arms mage or you would be flat on your back right now nursing quite the headache."

[tekraa]

"Fiery is right" Atar muttered, loud enough to be heard if just faintly.  Dred tilted his slightly, his friend would ask him about that one later but for now he held his questions.  Oh, they had no idea what she could do if she wanted to.  He doubted even she did, he had TOUCHED the fount through her though, and gods was it powerful- not too powerful for him to wield, of course. He wasn't a child, or a fool.

Atar decided he liked Raflroi.  He was easy to talk to, not afraid of this woman, friendly, and open.  And he had a child. A sick child. The more he thought about it, the more he respected the man. Sick children were a sad sight, this one, in a different place, with different parents, would have been abandoned long ago.  He would commend the ones who cared the boy, silently, and in his own way. He had always liked children, it was a knife's edge he always thought, the way children annoyed you and endeared you to them.  Any grown man as obnoxious as a child and you would probably punch them in the face, but a child, well, they tended to be "cute" and it was every difficult to punch cute things even when they were an irritation.  A child's laughter came easy, it meant the world was right, and to them, it was, wasn't it?

Children were also typically defenseless, genuine, and too trusting of strangers.  These things, lessons he had seen in war and the world in general, were truths too often seen.  War took the lives of children, people abused them, people would rather see them suffer, because people were cruel.  The pain in his eyes was apparent for a brief moment, the memories of days past, of Adela soldiers fighting for the lives of children, not lives of their own, something that would be forgotten when the last of them was gone.  The anguish was gone, had been bled out long ago when he and Dred had talked about it.  Soldiers was always told to take the lives of children, in his experience, it was the one thing that their company had agreed never to do from that day forth.  One after another they had vowed.

The woman's quip brought Atar back to attention, drawing him from his memories.  "From the looks of it" He couldn't help the grin that creased his lips when he arched a brow and glanced her up and down "Flat on my back before you would not be an unfavorable position."  Oh, that was probably a mistake.  He really didn't know when to quit, wasn't in his blood, nor in his cousins, he knew.  Atar could see Dred stifling a laugh as he pulled his weight from his friend and took a step away, now standing on his own, he was trying not to laugh himself.  If he had the child to thank right now, odds were she would not let an improper jest set her upon him.  Best to get his licks in while he could.

Dred stepped away and couldn't help but snicker, he had taken note of the child and despite himself, he smiled.  "I want no part in this, I would, however, kindly ask for some water."

[GoblinFae]

Tiraris smiled tightly, her teeth flashing briefly in a cruel smirk. She was more amused than offended by the comment having been made used to such comments through her line of work. "Did your mother ever teach you not to play with fire, Princess? Because I can assure you, I am fire and you are no tall, cool glass of water," the assassin fired back just as sweetly.

Raflroi chuckled and addressed Dred. "While these two decide to play at desert cats, I will take you to the family tent. You can get water, relax, and get something for those burns. They look ugly. Wouldn't want you getting a fever. Zeyna," he called back to Tiraris, "come when you are ready."

"I am ready now. I have had enough of this heat to last a lifetime," she muttered as she attempted to put Alberich down. The child howled and threw a temper-tantrum though, beating his fists and yanking at her hair. Even when she held him calmly in her arms again he did not stop until she had pulled the hood of his cloak up and rocked him close.

"I thought he had grown out of that."

The father shook his head. "You are still the only one he likes to be around. Even Mya, my wife," he added for the benefit of the men, "is unable to quell his fits let alone keep them from happening. I told you, you should have stayed Zeyna. He is atrocious when you leave. You're the only one who brings out the human in him."

The assassin did not respond, knowing it was not her fault and that she could not stay. Attachments were always painful. As it was she hated that the two men knew of her connections with Raflroi and his family, that Alberich was very special to her. It was a weakness and in her line of work there was no room for such things. But, one look at Alberich's big blue eyes and her cold, stone heart always crumbled.

[tekraa]

Dred noted that the camp was mostly sleeping.  A few heads poked from tents to see what the commotion was but none remained visible for long.  Like most desert trains this one was large, caravans in and out of the desert, especially merchant or pilgrims, normally planned to travel in strength with a high number of guards for escort, and very few passengers that were not capable of handling themselves, even the women in this parade would be scary if they were attacked.

It was, he knew, a defense mechanism.  He had seen pilgrimages before, desert people who lived in Adela, who would travel once a year to the glass desert for worship, and then perhaps to the city.  The journey, he knew from his own experience, was a tough one.  Dangers abound in this desert, but it didn't stop people.  The size of the caravans was thought of as a protective measure against bandits, though particularly smart bandits would harry those that lagged behind, hitting quick enough that the guards could not respond in number, spread as they were along the caravan.  Bandits these days were few in the Moraki, the only thriving bands near canyons or caves where ground water could sustain life, if this train had been scouted, they would be hit when in a less than favorable position, winding through canyons and crevasses.

They were in no immediate danger from bandits, had they been, or were they to be, the mage would call them out long before that happened.  The man was uncanny, his ability to spot danger before it struck, it was part of the reason they were both still alive.  Atar was much more than he seemed and Dred had known this for years, play dumb as the mage might Dred, and anyone who talked to the mage for more than an hour, could see through this charade.  Werglk on the other hand, could easily send....something.... after them, and that something might remain undetected for a long while.  While he was present here, he would have to keep his mind sharp.  Begin thinking for a second you are safe, and that is when disaster normally strikes.  When magic was involved, especially THAT necromancer, he knew to remain cautious.

Dred canted his head into a nod and stepped into the tent following Raflroi.  Atar sneered at Silverd'art and snickered aloud.  "Princess?" he spat, managing to look indignant.  More like the lord of darkness eternal, whose shadows would quell your flames in a moment, starved of their lifeblood.  "Someone ought teach you to wield those flames, lest you burn yourself and your young friend their to ashes."  the tone of his voice changed, inflection hinting genuine concern as he gestured to the child clinging to Tiraris.  It was a raw power, hers, unrefined, and abundant.  Since he had spotted Werglk Atar had wondered why the mage had traveled with her.  That much untapped power was dangerous alone, he knew the nercomancer would have had plans for her, but one would need to have spoken to him to learn of them.  Unless she knew.

The child's fit abated, and Atar followed the other men into the tent, pausing as he passed Tiraris, he eyed her skeptically, then moved inside.

[GoblinFae]

"What makes you think I have no control over myself?" she hissed angrily as she followed close behind Atar. Inside she was slightly panicked as she tried to access the core of her magic. 'I do not understand. It seems pretty normal even for me. It is a bit agitated but not enough to be physically visible.' Sure enough the fiery yellow core within her was larger, bubbling and spinning at a quicker pace within her, but not really something to be overly concerned about at this point.

Still gently rocking Alberich, Tiraris sat down and glared at the mage. "What right do you have to judge me, to consider me volatile? You do not even know me. Considering I am not the one that mistakenly dragged himself and two others into the middle of the desert and then passed out, I really believe I am not the one who should be considered dangerous. Your weakness endangers everyone around you as they become obligated to protect you. It really is quite pathetic."

She continued to hurl insults at the man even as the others within the tent fell silent, some out of awe and others out of fear. Mya pursed her lips but otherwise remained silent. She never liked the assassin's company but never argued about it with her husband in front of his guests. Their four other daughters also scowled in varying states of disgust at Tiraris, the youngest one even going so far as to stick her tongue at the woman when Mya's back was turned.

The eldest however, was more focused on the two men sharing her family's space. Shyly she offered Dred'Rikath a waterskin and filled a bowl with water to wipe a cool rag across his face and neck. Yet, every so often she would cast a fearsome glare at the redhead as the woman ranted at the other attractive newcomer.

[tekraa]

The wards the mage set came naturally, only those with the most acute senses towards magic would have even felt them being placed, Dred was used to this but it didn't stop the hairs on the back of his neck from standing on end.  It was almost imperceptible, night in this desert was nearly silent but the workings of the magic to hush their voices to outsiders worked both ways, thus the sounds of the night hushed almost without notice.  Most people felt that the workings of such magics, without permission, was an afront.  He understood the reason Atar did it. Sometimes he wondered if Atar did it intentionally, or if it was just so much a part of routine that he didn't think about it.  "Do not let your heart sink in the shadows, friend, for when working shadow magic it invites the very gloom that darkness reflects into the light" Atar had told him the first time.  Those who were sensitive to magic could hear, or see things when encompassed such.  

He was beyond them now, could ignore the whisperings of ethereal voices that offered haven to pain and suffering.  Silverd'art would not be consumed by them either, he knew as much without even confronting the two about the magic.  He watched as the mage took a seat next to him.  Dred tilted his head back, took a deep draught from the water skin, sighing as parched throat and lips cried out for more, but restrained himself.  "Gratitude..." he whispered to the girl as she took the water skin back.  His skin felt hot against water soaked rag, his head drifted slightly as the girl carefully pressed it to sun burnt skin. No pain radiated from his scars.  He wondered at the severity of the burns but would not ask, he would rather not know.  Judging by Silverd'art, they must not be too awful as she seemed in pretty good health.

Atar's cool eyes drifted about the tent, counting people and nodded as he finished on Tiraris and Alberich.  He looked drained felt it, too, but as always the facade of confidence never melted away.   The woman was right, he had endangered them in what he had done, but she didn't know the extent of what had happened the moment he touched Werglk's gate.  It was, probably something he should address openly with her, in private.  In fact, he doubted now that the village they had left even survived the wake of the magics the necromancer had used.  Desperation had made him use her, desperation had made him fling them halfway across a continent through a collapsing gate after Werglk.  He hadn't fully comprehended what had happened, but it had been a trap, as if the necromancer had known he would try to follow him.

Arcane workings were complicated, and while he considered himself a master of using them, interpreting what you were seeing FEELING at the time of something crucial, were often hard to read.  The gate was not of a type he had seen before, they usually took weeks of practice to perfect, rituals and wards, runes and fae chants...no, the man had simply tore a hole into the lifeblood of arcanum and flung himself to Serendipity- somewhere.  Following him was the only choice left when he had touched that flow, and if not for the red haired woman, they would all be dead.  Maybe he wouldn't tell her.

"You are right, girl, I made a mistake, a dreadful awful mistake and it could have killed us all."  He looked glum at the admission, though he thought she wouldn't catch the deeper reasons for his admission.  Dred looked surprised suddenly, his eyes opening wide as his attention turned.  "It takes a woman for you to admit you're wrong?  Typical."  the swordsman grunted, gesturing that the girls' ministrations were enough.  "Raflroi!.  It is with gratitude we accept your hospitality.  The tale of how we got here... is a strange one.  It is important, for my ease of mind, that you understand by housing us you may well put your family in danger, may put this entire caravan in danger.  Under your care we shall do what we can to preserve the safety of you and yours, as is expected, unless you deem us unworthy and too much of a danger."  He was speaking Essymi again, the mage seemed to follow every word but didn't offer a response, his eyes were on Alberich, studying the boy.

[GoblinFae]

A moment passed between husband and wife before Mya demurely lowered her gaze. His own eyes then landed on Tiraris. Unlike the other woman, the assassin had no desire to participate and only rolled her eyes. Clearing his throat, Raflroi answered Dred'Rikath in Essyrni while casting nervous glances at the woman holding his only son.

"This is not the first time we have housed Zeyna. We know full well the storm she brings with her. There is nothing for you gentlemen to be concerned about. Our little lady here is well-known to this caravan. We hold no fear of the dust that may fly."

He chuckled then ruffling red, sand-filled locks of hair, earning a hate-filled look from Tiraris as she tugged at her left ear in attempt to ear. She was sure that the normal outdoor sounds had quieted and it disturbed her greatly. Her hearing was one of her traits that she prized dearly, especially within her field of profession. This new deafness was discomforting.

With a grunt and a whine, Alberich threw off the hood and cloak, uncaring of where it landed and raised a shaking hand to ruffle her hair as well. Unable to turn cruel red eyes on such a sweet thing, she was forced to laugh good-naturedly. "Silly," she cooed to him, cuddling him close much to the boy's growling and gibberish squawking.

"But in truth my friends, we are all equals here. Let us speak in common," the patriarch declared with open arms as he sat beside his wife. Tiraris snorted as her eyes followed the two eldest now. Hafsah had moved on from Dred'Rikath to Atar'Ashi and again offered him the waterskin as she re-wet her cloth to treat his own burns. In her place the next eldest, Fayruz shyly brought a plate of food over. She would not look up at either of the men even as her tanned cheeks warmed and flushed and her fingers nervously played with the ends of her hair.

"Yes of course because it would not do for the children to understand what is going on here," Tiraris replied back, knowing full well that Raflroi's five young ones had never learned to speak common despite its usefulness. In her lap Alberich managed to turn himself so he was facing the room. An occasional nonsensical word would come out as he would point to something. Sometimes the sounds were the same for different things. Distractedly his head lolled about as his eyes took in everything as if for the first time before settling on the mage.

He felt drawn to the warmth and strangeness that came from the man. It was different than Zeyna's he had resolved, not nearly as fun to play with but definitely new and darker. His blue eyes stared ahead of him as he began to poke and prod this new ball, testing to see what would happen if it was pulled this way or pushed that way.