GrueMaster

"Eighteen... wait..." We'tak stopped in confusion and began counting, claws tapping while in concentration, then looked back at Abby in shock. "Horned Hatchling is over two hundred moons old!?" *TIC-TIC!* He shouted, clearly flabbergasted that someone so small could be so old! "I thought softskins could live long, but really, that long? And still be so small?" *Chee* "Softskins must take a long time to grow...." Intrigued by this, the curious thri-kreen noted to ask more about softskin ages in the future. The hatchling shook his head, bringing his attention back to Abby quickly as she expressed her own surprise at his age. "Mother Moon is very good to me," he expressed with confidence, "As she is with all thri-kreen. *Chee* He was further surprised by Abby's description of age rituals. "Softskins celebrate birthdays? Very sstrange. I think the night is much better, the moon always changing and giving uss very good insights into the world. The sun seeeems rather boring, always constant... and not very forgiving at times. But that is Mighty Sun for you. He does help give life, though, so I think I see why softskins like Him...," We'tak theorized while expressing his opinion. "Anyway, these softskin birthdays sound very good, especially the food, but," the thri-kreen tilted his head to one side. "What is 'cake?'" His curiosity only deepened when the pointy-ear clutchmother Shalena(for she was clearly the alpha of the softskins working the bot) spoke of candles... Mother Moon... it is going to take many moons to learn from these softskins...

*CHEE!* We'tak nearly shrieked with ecstatic joy when the strong female softskin handed him a large bundle of meat. "Thank you!!" The young thri-kreen gave Sybille's extended arm a quick hug of affection with his upper arms, before quickly snatching up the proffered food with his lower ones, setting about devouring it as quickly as possible (while sharing a bite or two with Pekwe, being about feeding time for him as well). "Thiss is very good!" *Wee* "Did Big Female Softskin make this?" This excitement, however, paled in comparison to when the pointy-ear Amendale seemingly created food from the air. By Mother Moon! "Pointy-ear is spirit-blessed?!" We'tak exclaimed, surprise very clear from his posture (and a small amount of saliva beginning to run down his mandibles). *Chee!* Clutch-father made a very good clutch! The hatchling thought absent-mindedly, before (nearly) diving into the conjured food... --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- We'tak adapted quickly to life aboard the softskin "bot" (as he still called it) over the next three days. Having calmed down a fair amount since their initial meeting, the young thri-kreen explored as much of the place as possible, watching the softskins move quickly about using the craft. Such clever creatures... he mused. Clearly Mother Moon has gifted them much cunning! Although... they do sleep an awfully long time... he noted in an humorous tone, having observed the softskins' unusual resting habits he had observed his first night and finding it amazing any creature could rest so long. He also spent a very large amount of time chattering away with anyone within speaking distance that wasn't busy. In particular, We'tak spoke often with the horned female hatchling Abby and the fireskin Rameses, being the ones that piqued his curiosity the most. Seeing Rameses speaking with Argyros at the moment, though, he elected to spend more time with Abby. "Sso, how did Horned Hatchling come to be?" the thri-kreen asked, head tilted to one side. "I have never seen or heard of anyone like you before. You have scaless, like Pekwe, so I thought maybe you have snake blood," We'tak thought out loud, "but you alsso have horns, and snakes do not have horns, so obviously that is not right... *ssss* right? Much smarter, too, I bet." *N'rak!* "Pekwe!" he nearly screeched, disapproval in that cry as the owner of that name tried biting his hand in protest of the comparison in intellects. "Okay, ssorry..." We'tak apologized, before launching into a new topic that he found thrilling. "Anyway, how old is Horned Hatchling? It will be my first birthmoon tomorrow, myself, so I am very excited!" *CHEE!* "Although..." he said, a sad tone in his voice. "Since it is my first moon, I do not know what to do... Oh, I know! Abby?" *Tic-Tic!* he asked, suddenly perking up when an idea sparked into life in mind. "What do softskins do for their first moon?"

We'tak regained consciousness quickly, aware of movement around him (yet unaware of the discussion about him that just occurred). Looking up, he saw a strange-looking figure standing above him and looking at him with awe... and returned the expression in equal measure. *CHEE!?* "A horned hatchling ssoftskin?!" the young thri-kreen exclaimed as he rose excitedly. However, his body was still exhausted, so he swayed slightly as he stood, sending his animal companion into a fit of concern again. *Sssss* Should have eaten something... he thought regretfully as he calmed Pekwe absentmindedly, but such thoughts were soon forgotten, as curiosity overwhelmed his mind. "Greetingss! I'm We'tak!" he exclaimed cheerfully, before focusing his attention on the strange female hatchling. *CHEE!* "You smell like a softskin, yet also like a lizard..." We'tak said while studying the female, bending down to look at her more closely, even daring to poke at one horn gingerly. *CHEE!* "They're real! How different!" Not realizing he was possibly being rude, We'tak quickly began greeting everyone in the group personally in this same manner, very excited to meet his father's old clutchmates, yet moving on to the next as soon as he had introduced himself, despite his starved state and *chee-ing* the entire time. Then he moved on to the great wooden wonder, seeing Winged Pointy-ear going onto it, and continued in his antics. "What is thiss called? It's a 'bot,' right? I have never been on a bot before!" Such a scene would have continued, if not for the very sudden (and very loud) growling coming from the thri-kreen's stomach, having a rather sobering effect on the hatchling. "Oh... I forgot... " We'tak paused finally with a forlorn expression on his face. "Doess anyone have some food?"

"Sstupid strange softskin..." the young thri-kreen cursed under his breath as he trudged through the gates of yet another softskin village; the man in question, a strange person blessed by the spirits with the gift of foresight, had told him that Tak'we's clutch would find their way to this place. What that Tenebris figure had failed to mention, was just n'rakk'tic far it was... I've nearly lost track of the moons, it seems so long! he thought to himself, panting with exhaustion; he had traveled practically nonstop to make it to the village called Sultim, not even stopping for the sake of rest or food... he was close to the end of his endurance. At least he had Mother Moon's blessings.... nothing had impeded his progress much or threatened him severely on his journey. It almost seemed he was being protected "But now I'm spirits-know-where in this place!" The thri-kreen lamented in his native tongue as he wandered the city, ignoring the strange looks he garnered. Granted, despite his frustration at being in unfamiliar surroundings, a part of him was greatly thrilled at the prospect of exploring such an exotic place; he was just simply too tired for the time being to notice. A small glossy-scaled snake spiraled up one arm and glanced at its friend with concern. "I am alright, Pekwe," the hatchling reassured his friend. "Just a little longer, okay?" As he wandered, wondering where he might find a place to rest (and not get bothered greatly), the hatchling came to a set of wooden buildings floating over the great waters, and stood in awe of such a sight. "And to think that the softskins have things that let them travel on it... such wonder!" Just then, he spotted what looked like black wings... and immediately shot into an excited run. Dashing almost wildly and barely dodging passersby, the thri-kreen finally pounced and fiercely hugged the figure he recognized. "Winged Pointy-ear!" *CHEE-CHEE!* "I finally found you all!" The thri-kreen squeaked almost unintelligibly from lack of breathe, before finally passing out from sheer happiness and exhaustion, his companion Pekwe almost frantically slithering over him from concern and hissing at those around the two... We'tak had finally found them...

Okay, everyone, so, after a long time in absentia... I'M BACK! ^_^ And with a new character as well... hope y'all like him... We'tak

The aasimar laughed as he saw Sybille and her friends banter among themselves. "Yes, she certainly did, Sybille, " he smiled, already taking a liking to the atmosphere of the group. Doshkin kept that smile on his face as he recognized Detect Evil being cast on him, hiding his minor irritation at being subjected once again to the all-too-familiar spell but quite used to the suspicion of others. Better to let her put her concerns to rest, after all. He had difficulty controlling that smile, though, when the woman's gaze changed and he didn't recognize what was going on. What in the Hells...? Keeping his composure, the warlock let the first spell continue for what should be long enough for anyone before finally showing his displeasure. "Ahem. I believe that should be enough to assuage your fears, good lady, so if you don't mind..." He raised a hand and gave a snap of his fingers and dispelled Detect Evil with Caster's Lament while disguising his spell as Greater Dispel Magic; he may be foolish, but even he was wise enough not to reveal what he was completely. "I do apologize if I seemed rude," he said, bowing his head in sincerity. "But whatever you were doing there felt rather...intrusive. I do not mind it too much, for I am quite used to it, but as a suggestion, I would ask permission first before invading the privacy of others. It would be more polite, as it were." "As for the details of your quest, " the aasimar continued. "I must say those do not concern me much. I have fought in a war in a foreign land for a country that dislikes the arcane at best, if that means anything. I am a very competent battle mage, excelling in magical combat and particularly skilled in dispelling, as you just witnessed yourself, and have survived several battles, so I can take care of myself. I simply feel like going on another adventure, and if it is with a friend, all the better. If we save the world while we're at it, fantastic, and if I die, well..." he smiled as he glanced around at everyone (and Llhunarra), " I can probably say I had a lot of fun. So," he focused his attention on 'Wings,' as the brash young man called her. "Is there a particular order to how you set up camp, or may I do so where I please? Within reason, of course."

The deer moved to the bushes, the berries on them enticing it to come closer. When it got nearly within reach, however, it suddenly froze as the wind changed direction... and with it, it brought the scent of a predator... ...and it was hiding right behind the bushes... Before the deer could react, a monstrous, dark figure pounced on it from the foliage and within a heartbeat had the animal dead, nearly sliced in half by powerful claws. The nighthaunt dragged the fresh kill back into the bushes and began to thoroughly devour it quickly to avoid detection. It had been several days since it had a filling meal such as this; this area had been over-hunted by nearby villages, so prey had been scarce. It will only get worse... the awakened nighthaunt Scath thought regrettably. It had been thus since he left his precious haunt in Scáthaitheand, and the further he ventured into the "civilized" lands, the harder it became to hunt for proper prey whilst avoiding unwanted attention. Arrogant... ignorant... creatures... he cursed silently. Fear and pride has made them weak, but they are still dangerous. Regardless of what is to come, though, the Call must be answered! For many, many days now, something... or someone... has been calling to him, urging him, no, pleading with him, to go, to beckon to a summoning, and with what happened shortly after it started.... Hunted answers will be found... Scath thought with determination as he shook away memories of past events and finished his meal. For this hunter is patient. He took a deep breath, then continued on his hunt; there were answers to be found...

"If you consider my tracking all of you for the past three days following you, then, yes, I guess I have been following you," Doshkin replied with a bit of false severity to the brash voice questioning him. "Although I would say 'late in tagging along,' myself. The way you describe it makes me out to be a stalker of sorts, which is quite absurd. Such unseemly behavior is unbecoming of one." He had to keep himself from laughing at the irony of that statement, considering the fact that he's been the one stalked before... And not always by friendly girls with crushes... The aasimar dropped that thought before it could continue and grinned as he saw a familiar face greeting him. "Ah, Llhunarra! It is a pleasure to see you once again!" He stooped slightly and gave the half-elf a warm hug before releasing her and responding. "As a matter of fact, yes, I did indeed follow you. You see, I decided that it was time for another adventure, and although it surely tested my abilities as a tracker and rider, I was determined yours was the group to whom I would be best able to contribute, and so here I am. Besides," he gave a playful smile, "isn't it more fun to travel with a friend?" The warlock looked over by the fire and saw the same winged woman at the festival. "Ah, the angelic dancer herself. Pleased to meet you, good lady." Quite the opposite, really; he could still feel the cold chills running up his spine from that magical display of hers... He approached slightly closer into the light of the camp fire and gave a slight bow. "As you just heard, I felt like traveling with a friend, and that my skills and talents would be of value to you as well, if you all will have me. It would beat traveling alone for me, at the very least, heheh."

Doshkin gave a sigh of disappoint as he went to the stables to get his horse; he had spent half the day trying to find Llhunarra, but hadn't had any luck in doing so. Hmmph... I was looking forward to perhaps traveling with her... oh well... As he readied his horse, however, the aasimar overheard some of the servants gossiping in the stables... they were speaking of the group of foreigners had left earlier with Imhiros... Oh, damn! the warlock cursed silently. "Why do I always miss the party?" But his irritated visage quickly swiftly turned to a grinning one as he began to feel it was time to move on to the next adventure. Excited now, Doshkin quickly went and gathered supplies for what may be a decent traveling time (after spending time fighting a war in the desert, even he knew enough to do something that prudent). Unfortunately, that took even more time, as there were many more nobles for the estate to deal with, and he was only one foreigner, so by the time he had gotten his gear, it was approaching dusk. "Oh, to the Hells with it!" Doshkin shrugged with a smile after debating whether to get started, and so the warlock began following after the foreign party's tracks, looking forward to traveling with others again... ============== Doshkin wiped his forehead as he rode his horse, somewhat weary and dreading he'd have to go yet another day in silence. By the gods, do these people ever rest? It had been a struggle for the warlock to keep up, as he had never quite learned to survive in the outdoors or how to read tracks. Luckily, though, the group he was following wasn't hiding their trail, and the weather had not wiped away their tracks, so the aasimar didn't have difficulty in finding the group (He was also not the greatest rider around, but the aasimar was too proud to admit that). As night began to fall, and Doshkin's night-induced disdain began to grow (for the man had forgotten to bring some firewood to stay warm, of all things), his spirits began to lift once he saw a campfire up ahead. Oh, finally! Picking up the pace, he rode his horse in a slight trot, slowly coming up to the camp ahead. "Hello?" he called out, dismounting from the horse as he approached, leaving his weapons stowed on his saddle. "My name is Doshkin Doiteain. Would this happen to be the group the lady Llhunarra is traveling with?"

Oh boy, sorry it took so long, but I has it done! :D Name: Scath (pronounced “SHKAH”)

Doshkin watched the dancers in rapt attention, the sight filling him with awe. It was a surprise to see Llhunarra's friend Sybille on stage, and even more surprising to see that she could dance well. Well, then... my wits fail me yet again... He loved the way the first three dancers performed, the exotic dance mesmerizing. However, he noticed that the winged half-elf would be the last to dance, and this was the dancer he wanted to see most. Heh, saving the best for last, perhaps? he mused, then watched... Amazing... she is very goo- BY THE GODS! Doshkin gaped once more, both in awe and realization, when suddenly the woman was wrapped in magical green flames. Oohhhh... damnation... he groaned inwardly in disappointment; though he really liked the winged beauty, that magical energy spoke of a power that even he realized would be terrible to anger. Great... Still, he did enjoy the dance, and once it was over, Doshkin gave a great applause for the performers, before turning to Llhunarra. "Well, that was quite the spectacle, wasn't it?" He looked around and noticed how... riveting... the festivities were becoming. "But, I do believe I shall take my leave, before I get caught up in this particular excitement." He stood up and started to leave. "Miss Llhunarra, it was most entertaining to share some wine with you. I do hope we get to do so again in the future." With that, the aasimar left, heading to a guestroom appointed to him, and went to bed. ====================== Doshkin arose early the next day, feeling refreshed and eager to see what the day would bring. I wonder if that good lady I met last night will still be around? he thought to himself, then began wandering the halls after getting his things packed, looking for his new friend.

Hey, Stew, I think I'll join up as well. I'll just need a day or so to come up with a character (I'm spending time making up a background for his race, one I hope you'll like). I'll pm the details later before posting. Looking forward to this. :D

"A pleasure, Llhunarra," Doshkin, replied, finding the half-elf's smile contagious and making him grin. "Business, eh? I myself came here for similar re-" the aasimar cut off as he turned to look at the Mulhorandi took the stage and began speaking. He didn't know much of the local language, but he did have enough to pick up the words 'music' and 'dance,' which brought an even bigger grin to the warlock's face; the celebrating had finally started! Turning back to Llhunarra, he gave a gesture towards the crowd. "So it seems the party has started at long last. I know you said have business, but," Doshkin glanced at the festivities, then back again, "would you have time, perhaps, for a little pleasure? It is a celebration, after all, and there is so much fun to be had here. It would be good to have a brief respite."

Doshkin took a deep breath as he strode into a well-decorated hall, with many people having already arrived for the festival. The aasimar was excited; after all the hard work he and his brother had done in the conflict against Unther, their patron finally decided to give them a well-earned rest. And reward... he thought with a smile as he eyed the many ladies walking about the room. "They certainly do have good tastes here, don't they, bro-?" he began speaking, looking to his side only to be reminded of his brother's absence; shortly after the victory, his brother had disappeared. Not letting recent events get him down, Doshkin began wandering the place, trading flirtatious looks with women whom he caught looking at him. Being an aasimar had cast a favorable light on the warlock, a fact that he has played upon very heavily. Ooh, I can't wait for the dance! he mused, the event being his main reason for coming. He continued to look around, trying to find a good spot from which he could look at the local beauties (and possibly strike up a conversation) when he noticed three women who were most definitely foreigners like him. One wasn't much to look at, but the half-elf beside her was attractive, at least. The one that definitely caught his eye, however, was the other half-elf, beside them... the one with ebony wings. His taste for the exotic (and need to associate with someone not from Mulhorand) intrigued, he quickly walked over to where he spotted the trio, eager to meet this angel among mortals. Much to his dismay, though, the winged woman had already left by the time he had made halfway to them. Well, damn... but, I can start a conversation with these two, at least, he thought optimistically, then went up to the two remaining ladies. "Ah, greetings!" the aasimar said enthusiastically with a flourish as he gave a polite bow. "I must say that I am pleased to meet some fellow foreigners in this exotic land. Oh, where are my manners? My name is Doshkin Doiteain. So, what brings you ladies here to this great festival?" he asked, directing the question to both women but looking at the half-elf more.

Helloes! I do believe I shall be coming back, folks. :D Anyway, here's my new character. Hopefully, it goes over well: Name: Doshkin Doiteain

Dri stood speechless, struggling to control the emotions welling up within her as Weyland poured out his heart to her. She stayed silent as he finished speaking, then, with tears falling freely now, she embraced the man with a great hug. *sniff* "Weyland," she sent, wiping her nose. "I love you, too..." The girl hugged Weyland again, then stepped away slightly so she could see his face, a rueful grin showing on her face. "Heh, you know Arland will never shut up now, right?" She gave a silent laugh; she didn't care. She had something more... Someone... Realizing she was still hugging him, Dri blushed slightly, brushing her hair from her eyes. "Well, um, I think, uh, maybe we should go to bed now." She began leaving, happiness clearly showing. "Good night, Weyland!" She spun and left to her bedroom, where she stripped off her armor and passed out into a deep slumber in her bed, her worries about tomorrow gone for the time being... Tak'we gave a respectful bow of the head in solemn thanks, blessings from the spirits always something to be honored. "Thank you, winged pointy-ear," he chattered, then shuffled away, stepping outside. The thri-kreen gazed up at the night sky, spying Mother Moon as She went about Her ancient path, pale tears trailing behind. "Mother Moon... thank you for my clutch. May the spiritss watch over uss all..." Feeling oddly at peace, Tak'we pulled out his strings and begun playing an ancient tune, one that surpassed his grand sire's grand sire, back to a time all thri-kreen were once one clutch under Mother Moon. It was one that all thri-kreen would hear at great gatherings, to respect and honor the bonds that ultimately held all thri-kreen together in the end. He was no great stringer like his clutch-mother was; his ability lie within battle. But... even one like me shouldn't be terrible at playing... He continued to play this, softly at times, and louder at others, but constantly nonetheless, to the disregard of all things. Come what may in the hunt to come, he would face it with his clutch, and he would not have it any other way...

Dri had a slight dry feeling in the back of her throat, a nervous reaction she'd always get when she was about to go through with a dangerous job. Her nervousness had been building slowly but surely as the party approached closer and closer to their goal, and stopping at Kormul right before what would surely be a deadly fight was wearing on her mind. To help ease this she fell back to the one thing that always relaxed her: calligraphy. She set up shop at a random table and pulled out her pen and ink set, along with a book with a fancy ideograph emblazoned on the front cover; her own collection of scripts she had written since her foster-father had given her the book. Flipping to a blank page, Dri began writing a random poem. A Grey knight, armed with lightning/ Defended by shield, protected in armor/ My savior, hope-inspiring... Lines similar to this went on, until finally she realized she was writing about Weyland. Oh no... Feeling her cheeks beginning to warm, Dri started putting the book away when Weyland tapped her on the shoulder and scaring her, having been so deep in thought on her calligraphy she hadn't noticed him. "Weyland!" she started, closing the book hastily and putting it away. Tymora, please let him not have seen it! She was surprised when the warrior asked for a word in private. "Um, sure. Do you want to talk now?" Tak'we sat in the corner, strumming the strings on the gythka from We'ka, the slave Rhaine helped him free. The female thri-kreen had given it to him as a parting gift, as thanks for helping her. Though Winged Pointy-ear was more help than I was... he thought with annoyance and shame; it was bad enough that he had gotten himself caught and caused trouble for his clutch, but then it was insulting when Rhaine was forced to pay for the trouble as well. Well, at least things went well, he thought, chittering almost bashfully as he remembered the private moments he spent with We'ka; they had left the group several times to go hunting together, and Tak'we had enjoyed being around her as much as he had being with his clutch, almost more so. Spirits, I miss her, he lamented silently, as she had to go back to her pack that had been harried by the Defiled Ones, kin of theirs that had desecrated their own bodies for the curse of the Bones-That-Walk and prayed to the very Bone Lizard his clutch was hunting. Mother Moon, may we walk upon moonlit sands together once again, and may We'ka's pack stay safe. Remembering how his gythka had worked so poorly against Valthanarax and his Bone minions at that thought, Tak'we unstrung his gythka and walked over to Rhaine. "Winged Pointy-ear?" he asked reverently, thinking Rhaine would be best to beseech aid from the spirits. "Would you bless thisss one'ss sstaff, so that thiss one may better hunt the Boness-That-Walk?" Tenebris, like so many others in the room, was doing his own preparations for the battle ahead. Sitting in a darkened corner of the tavern, he prayed silently, rolling his knucklebones both out of nervous habit and for possible predilections of the future. For some reason, his foretelling from earlier had become more obscured, as though something was interfering... One thing is certain, though, he thought grimly. At least one of us shall die... With this knowledge in mind, the Jergali pulled out a blackened book that had a lock built within it and protected by spells, and with a sigh unlocked it and released the wards on it. This will not be a glorious task, he grimaced, and so began going over old spells that many in his order would balk at the mere mention of the existence of such dark power... Thus is the path I am consigned to... -------------------------------- Saris was angrily pacing back and forth, silently raging for many days now. At Zuir's word that the assassination had failed, she had spent nearly an entire day subjecting Kalin to numerous tortures, ranging from poisoned hooks that induced spasms in the victim, further causing pain, to simple brute-force application of lightning, to the point where even her not-so-insignificant reservoir of power had been drained. And now the wh*%# of Kelemvor has become ever closer... she murmured in aggravation; somehow, despite all her wards, the Doomguide seemed to home in onto the location of her manse, as unerringly as a bloodhound on a scent. How is she doing it? Saris pondered this as she finished the last of the preparation spells and powers needed for the ritual on Valthanarax. Confident she would be done well before Rhaine reached her, yet not wanting to take any risks, the elan visited Kalin once more, a vile plan bringing a smile to the sadist's lips. Kalin looked up wearily as the door to his dungeon opened and Saris walked in, a disturbing look on her face. "Come to finally kill me, wench?" he insulted, giving a last ditch effort at angering the Culler in an attempt to be defiant. "Oh, no, sweet grandson... I have a much better idea..." Before he could say anything, Saris' eyes flashed and then there was an agonizing flame suddenly burning into his mind. Don't fight it, dear, just let it wash over you. It will be over before you know it. A beguiling voice whispered madly in his thoughts. No! he tried to cry out in defiance, but countless days of torture and nightmares had left his mind in tatters, and so Kalin struggled vainly as his shattered mental defenses were subsumed and swept away by Saris' power. You are mine now...

Dri gave a start as Amendale's owl landed on her shoulder and delivered a message to her. All to myself? she thought, taking a swipe at the bird for Amendale's impudence but missing as it flew away. A little embarrassed by such cheekiness, but she got up and went to Weyland's room all the same; She didn't quite feel comfortable with sleeping in the same room as the others as she did with the older Grey brother. Cracking the door slowly and seeing the man asleep, she gave a soft smile and crept in quietly. Por Weyland, she thought, amused at seeing him passed on still in full armor. Stifling a giggle, she carefully place a blanket over him and planted a kiss on the back of his head, before slipping quietly into her own bed and falling asleep. -------------------------------------------- Tenebris spent the entire night at the counter, sipping at some cheap ale throughout the night and not sleeping at all. Damn it all, Jergal, he cursed soundlessly, still disgruntled over his failure to act on the signs given earlier. Why did you ever mark me like this? This litany continued well unto morning, at which point he cast a baleful eye at the sun light creeping through the inn doors and ignoring everyone, having gotten drunk at some point during the night. Red-eyed and irritable, Tenebris constantly muttered and cursed as he gathered his things. Tak'we spent the night wandering the inn, keeping guard over his clutchmates and every possible entrance he could see. He almost prayed that an enemy would try to attack, wanting greatly to rend the fool for ever daring to threaten his clutch. This did happen, however, both relieving and disappointing the thri-kreen as Mighty Sun came up. Well, thank you Mother Moon for granting my friends rest, he offered quietly, before depleting the considerable store of bacon the innkeeper had, much to the dismay of many of the current guests who had risen early. "Rhaine, Tak'we is going to market for supplies," he told the winged pointy-ear, before getting up and heading for the door. "I will be back soon." In truth, he wanted to ask around if anyone had seen another thri-kreen, the tools he found yesterday having left him uneasy, and wanted to do so before the large crowds of softskins swarmed the streets. Unfortunately, few softskins were out yet, many of the stalls and booths still empty, and those few people had no knowledge he could use. *Tck'tck...* he clicked, slightly discouraged at the results of his search. He studied the bladed staff in his hands. Maybe the gythka really was just fou- *SSCREEEEE!!!!* Tak'we nearly jumped at the sudden cry, too familiar for him to dismiss, and far too close to be outside the village walls. *NRAK'TCK!*Moving with long strides, he frantically searched for the source of the shrieking and thri-kreen cursing. He turned a corner and finally found his quarry. A thri-kreen, clearly a female, judging from her smaller frame, was surrounded by eight softskins, who were attempting to get closer to her only to narrowly dodge a swiping claw. Tak'we felt his temper rising at the scene, and wondered why she didn't simply jump past them to get away. He saw the answer to question when one softskin fell over backwards cursing; her feet were chained together, as were two of her arms, having managed to slip the other two out. "Come on, you lot!" a fat softskin shouted at the eight men. "Can't you catch one measly bug? I need it ready to sell in the morning auctions before the clientele get here!" The insult being the last grain of sand he could take, Tak'we pulled out the three chatkchas and hurled them with all his anger at the softskins' legs. Two of the throwing wedges missed, making the pink thri-kreen curse his lack of practice, but the third one hit, sinking deeply into one of the slave guard's legs. The other men, suddenly alert, spun round and drew various weapons, while the slave trader began calling out for the local guards and reinforcements. Tak'we scattered the first couple of men, shrieking madly as he ran towards the female, who took the opportunity to catch one captor by surprise and knocking him unconscious. The pink thri-kreen had gotten closer when suddenly several nets came down and entangled both insectoids, sending Tak'we into a fit of cursing and hissing as more softskins appeared and began whacking at them with saps and staves to suppress their struggles. Fully caught in the nets, he looked at the female and gave a frustrated look; captured again... As the slavers began gathering up the wounded, many of whom had vicious claw marks and slashes on them, and city guards began arriving, he began praying that his clutchmates would hopefully have heard the trouble. Seeing one guard hurry away towards the way Tak'we had come, he felt slightly encouraged; maybe they would bring his clutchmates and get both of them out of this travesty. "Don't worry, all will be fine," he chattered in thri-kreen to the female. She remained silent, doubt obvious in her downcast eyes. *Ssss* "Stupid softskins..."

Dri was enjoying her time in the market, having spotted a rather nice calligraphy set, and was in the middle of trying to haggle with the merchant when the screaming began. She rushed alongside Weyland and was shocked to see both Conall and Xallistine writhing in agony on the ground. Unable to really help much, she followed the others back to the inn, keeping an eye on their surroundings for any hidden assailants. "I hope they will be okay," she sent to Weyland, helping him keep watch. Tak'we had not heard the panic going on outside at first, having been in his room he was sharing with Xallistine, but did hurry back to the main room when he heard the raised, concerned voices of his clutchmates. At seeing two of his clutchmates barely alive on the floor, his temper immediately flared. "Rhaine, who hurt Tak'we'ss clutchmatess?!" *NRAK'TCK'TCK!* He kept calm enough to hear the entire story, however, and settled down once seeing that his friends would survive. Determined not to let any more harm come to his friends, Tak'we began to stand watch by the door, a low hiss punctuating the air every few moments, not fully calming down until Aurora began playing a soothing song. Tenebris heard the panicked screams and immediately got up to see what the commotion was. Unfortunately, with the panicked masses, he couldn't quite see all that was going on save a flash of his companions rushing back to the inn, Xallistine and Conall being supported between their friends. Should have paid more attention to that feeling earlier, godbedamned! the Jergali cursed himself silently as he hurried to join the group. He stepped in to see just how bad his two companions were, both struggling to fight off whatever afflicted them, Xallistine more so than Conall. The half-vampire gave a grim look at the mention of poison. At Nawen's words of the dead assassin being taken by the guards, and not much to trace besides which direction the merchant had been before his demise, an old method of retrieving information came to mind... Without a word, he immediately left and went searching for the guards urgently. He didn't quite know why, but he felt somewhat guilty for the attempt, the knowledge of the ominous feelings he had had earlier making him feel responsible somehow. Oh, godsbedamned! That isn't important any more! he insisted silently, shaking his head in frustration. After a few minutes Tenebris had finally found them nearing the entrance of a temple of Kelemvor, two guards driving a small cart, a covered, blood-soaked bundle in the back. "Excuse me, guards?" he called them to a stop. "Go back indoors, sir. We've had an failed assassination in the middle of town," one of the men ordered sharply, pulling the cart to a stop. "Sorry, but I'd to examine the body," Tenebris said, pulling out a symbol of his faith. "I am a priest of Jergal, and may be able to gain information as to who is responsible for the assassination attempt if I am allowed to see the body." "I don't feel comfortable abo-" "Look, it will not take more than a few dozen breathes," Tenebris interrupted. "Fine, go ahead. Sooner you are done, the sooner we can drop the body off." The Jergali nodded, and pulled the cover from the cart partway to gain access to the body... only to breath sharply at seeing the state of it. "Who beheaded this man?" he asked, trying not to show the aggravation now building within him. "I don't know," the other guard spoke, "I think it was some young lad with two swords, walked off with the victims' friends. The man was already dead, though, so I don't know why he did it" Arland... Gritting his teeth, Tenebris nodded and cast the spell he had prepared anyway, hoping there may be the slightest chance he'd be able to get a clear answer from the corpse. "What made you to try to kill two people today?" "I- jijtth--" the corpse spoke hoarsely and unintelligibly. "Gods preserve us," one guard murmured at the unholy sound. The half-vampire sighed, and tried again, ignoring the interruption, only to get an equally grisly-sounding and indecipherable response; the voice had been too badly damaged. "Sorry, good sirs. The body is not...preserved... enough for me to learn anything. Thank you for your time." With that, he bowed and turned, marching back to the inn. The Jergali made it back in good time, and upon spotting Arland, immediately stormed up to the young man and threw a right cross at him, catching Arland in the jaw and decking him, both Tenebris' frustration and his vampire ancestry fueling the blow. "You beheaded him, you stupid bastard?!" he shouted incredulously, his normally cool facade breaking for once and flashing his feelings. "I could have found out who was responsible if you hadn't destroyed the poor man's throat needlessly!" He remained unaware of the soft music Aurora had begun playing, instead waiting on some kind of response from Arland. ------------------------- Zuir was cursing as he wiggled his way out of his bonds; he had managed to switch back to his own body at the last instant, but it had been close. However, the fact that he had failed in killing Rhaine Alcinea, did little to comfort his good fortune. Knowing that now the Doomguide would be wary of any further attempts upon her life, he decided to cut his losses and leave. There will be other chances... he swore to himself, and slipped out of the slums and soon the city undetected...

Dri gave a smile at Weyland's offer. "Sure! I wonder what they have at the markets here..." She took Weyland's arm and rushed to the inn, eager to be off and to see what the merchants of Innarlith had to offer. Tenebris, having used a fair amount of his money on bribes, decided to set up a small soothsayer's booth in the shadowed entrance of one of the market's many alleys rather than joining everyone in their shopping spree. Better to make money than spend it, he thought with a wry grin, using his gifts of of foresight to tell fortunes to those willing for a few silvers. Tak'we followed his clutchmates, rather in awe at the sheer mass of softskins milling about in the village center. Several people gave him a wide berth, but several softskins selling weapons were shouting above the din of the crowds offering gold for the double-scythe strapped to his back. He denied them all, constantly until finally the traders around him seemed to understand the point he wasn't going to sell his only weapon. Not seeing anything that particularly interested him, the thri-kreen began to leave when one stall happened to catch his eye. Is that... "..a gythka?" he finished thinking aloud, striding over to the booth where several exotic weapons were being sold. "Where did you get thiss?" Tak'we asked, finding it odd that a weapon of his people being sold in softskin lands; thri-kreen didn't part with their weapons so easily. The man behind the booth subconsciously took a step back at seeing such a huge figure appear, then straightened up, putting on a smile. "Ah, yes, I see you have a good, erm, eye for weapons!" Tak'we, not wanting to put up with such small talk, restated his question firmly. "Where?" "A m-merchant I know sold me the weapon after returning from the Shaar," the softskin stammered, detecting the impatient tone in the pink thri-kreen's voice. "I can't tell you anything else, save that I have some of those strange throwing wedges you bu- eh, your people make." The man caught himself and quickly corrected his wording. Keeping his temper from rising, Tak'we pretended he didn't hear the insult. "How much do you want for it?" "S-sorry?" the merchant asked, surprised by the sudden request. "What do you want for the gythka and chatkcha?" he said, slowly and calmly. "Oh, well, you see, these are rather rare weapons. I thinking -" "Thiss one will trade thiss scythe for them. They belong to thri-kreen, not softskinss." The merchant did a double-take at the thri-kreen, remembering how the creature had denied everyone who had offered small fortunes for that weapon. And if the bug doesn't know its value... "Well, who am I to keep such a magnificent tool from its rightful people? I humbly accept your offer." Tak'we nodded, slung the massive scythe from his shoulders and put it down with a heavy thud on the softskin's table, who then handed over the gythka and three chatkchas. Feeling satisfied with the trade, Tak'we gave a last polite tilt of the head and went back to the inn, though a single question still plagued him: Who did these belong to, and where are they now? ================================= Zuir relaxed in the small room, waiting for the merchant he sent a message offering a rare trade to to show up. Finally, the door to the hovel finally opened, a nervous man who looked to be in his thirties and out of shape entering slowly. "So, what's this about? I had to leave my stal- What in the hells is going on here?!" The merchant exclaimed, finally seeing Zuir in the poorly-lit room; the man was tied up to one of the building's support posts. "A trade of course," Zuir smiled maniacally, before a flash from the power stone hidden in his hands flared up, and suddenly was looking down at his own body, confusion flashing over his face. "Wha- what?" "Don't worry. I'll make good use of your body." Zuir said, grabbing a dagger with a viscous substance coating it." Just be a good boy and take care of mine, would you?" Before the merchant who now possessed his body could say another word, Zuir brought the pommel of the dagger down hard and knocked out the merchant, then gagged him and made sure the ropes were secure. Confidant they would hold, the assassin left the hovel, dagger hidden in his sleeve, and began looking for his prey. It was bustling heavily still in the market place, but an ulitharid stood out among the crowd, and soon the assassin had casually gotten closer. Finally, deciding he was close enough, he pulled out the dagger and drove it deep into Xallistine's back, twisting the blade as he pulled it out so the black lotus poison would spread faster. He then charged at the winged Doomguide who stood nearby, the poisoned blade being driven at the spot between her wings...

I know some people hate compromises, but this is my own two-bit thoughts into the matter: 1) I suggest a 4-character limit for all members (save for brand new members; see below), and while, yes, there are people with more characters than that, I think they would be alright with keeping their current characters. They just cannot create new ones unless and until their number of characters drop below 4. 2) Since we've going for so long, I figure it would be rather hard for members new to the RP to integrate with everyone else (who are already used to one another's writing styles and the setting), so my suggestion here is that new RP members only be allowed 1 character until the majority of the veterans feel comfortable with letting them have more characters. These decisions would of course be subject to executive decision at the end of things (no point in being thread leader if you can't make the decisions, yes?). Anyway, here be me thoughts on the topic.

We'tak Mumei Kaji

Tak'we, though embarrassed by the mess he had caused, was glad with how the boar meat had gone over, and ate more than the Grey Brothers combined. He had mixed feelings over Arland's return, however. In some ways, he had missed the foolish softskin, in others... Well, hopefully the softskin is not as foolish now. He gave a good hiss of laughter as Lucas gave Rhaine a rubbing, the scents the young softskin was throwing off not unlike those of Tannin in mating season, but with the way the females teased him, Tak'we decided against making further jokes. The thri-kreen kept watch as everyone went to sleep in ones and twos, in the mean time making a jerky-like food from the remaining boar meat with a recipe he remembered his clutch-mother using. Satisfied with the results, he packed it away and patrolled the camp for the rest of the night. Dri gave a silent cry of despair at the food ruined by Tak'we's hunt, having been wanting to have a filling meal of Nawen's cooking. Well, at least there's more food... she thought glumly, wondering if Tymora was teasing them or not. Nearly starving when the boar was cooked well enough to eat, the girl nearly beat Weyland in getting in line for food. She was grabbing a plate when she saw Arland entering camp, and silently put a palm to her face. Tymora, now I know you're joking with us. Dri did smile at the sight of the wayward Grey, though; it had seemed surprisingly odd, not having Arland around. Heh, there certainly won't be a quiet night anymore... She finished her meal and quickly gave her good nights to everyone as she went to bed, wanting to get to sleep before the Greys did and she had to deal with even more snoring. Huddling up tightly, Dri fell asleep, dreading when some of her companions went to sleep as wel at first, before going into a deep peaceful slumber Tenebris gave an exasperated sigh at Aurora's response, muttering under his breath. "You're quite welcome..." Before he said any thing he might regret, the Jergali simply sat down near the fire and pulled out that black book of his and a quill, squibbling away little portents and tidbits on his companions, especially the mystery surrounding Tannin. He kept at this well past dusk, ignoring everyone until the boar was finally done. He took a slice of boar and absently chewed it as he studied his companions, thinking on their personalities and pasts, but his concentration was interrupted by the the arrival of a stranger. Great, another Grey... he thought, not even bothering to roll his dice; he could already tell by the reactions of those around him that this man would prove to be... colorful. Tired by the sudden antics and the way Aurora's response nagged at him, the Jergali wordlessly got up and went to bed, quickly falling asleep. ============================================== Tak'we gave a hissing sigh as they approached Innarlith; he had enjoyed being back on the road again, and it hadn't seemed long before he had to be in yet another stone softskin village. *TCK-TCK!* We are almost there, he comforted himself. I am almost home... With that, he breathed deeply and continued following the others, confidant he would be able to weather a stay in one last softskin village. Dri barely contained her excitement as the party approached Innarlith, looking forward to experiencing a new city and its streets. "For once, I can actually agree with you, Aurora," she said, giving a small smile at the half-elf's enthusiasm for the city. "I wonder what they will have in the markets..." Tenebris gave a humph at some of the others' reactions at being back in a city. "Well, I'm glad all of you are looking forward to being in Innarlith." He had studied a lot of places in the world and tried to keep track of how those places changed, and Innarlith had been one that hadn't changed for the better, the black market there having picked up in business in recent years. At Xallistine's comment and Rhaine's agreement, the half-vampire nodded his agreement. "Indeed... I just hope no one gets any ideas about torches and stakes. Rather tired of that." When the group ran into trouble at the city gates, Tak'we gave a quiet yet menacing chitter, beginning to lose patience with the softskin guards. Knowing his anger would only cause his clutch more problems, he kept his irritation at rest. Although... if they keep this up, I'll toss them over the village walls, spirits help me. Tenebris, feeling the aggravation beginning to rise in everyone, and seeing how the bribes weren't going anywhere, decided to aid Sybille in his own way. "That is a very generous offer, but I think they'd drink the tavern dry, ma'am," he complemented, careful to hide his fangs as he spoke. "But, if you good sirs would accept the gold, I'll gladly add a platinum as well... look me in the eye and say I'm not telling the truth..." The Jergali held up a platinum coin by his face, trying to get the guards to meet his gaze. They looked at the money first, then met his gaze. "Well, sir, I don't much care..." the first guard began to say, before trailing off, a distant gaze coming over his eyes. Tenebris gave a smile as the charm ran its course. Weak-willed fools... "Besides," the cleric continued, "if you don't let us in, we would have to go around the city, and in doing that, we could run into that very trouble you wish to avoid. If that happens, not only would you be called out early in the morning about said trouble, you would have to leave the walls of the city and deal with it out here, rather than in the comfort of the streets. You don't want that to happen, now do you? I certainly do not." "No..." the guards said hesitantly. "But this way," Tenebris continued, pushing the point home. "We get to go in the safety of the city, where we can avoid trouble, and the two of you not only get a donation for giving and allowing us poor travelers succor, but you won't have to worry about us at all. Sound fair?" The guards both shook their heads in agreement. "Sounds perfectly fair to me. All of you can move on through." The half-vampire plastered a smile on his face. "And I promise, no one else will be the wiser. This will just be between us, yes?" The guards nodded and waved them on. "Thank you, kind sirs, and may the gods smile over you." The Jergali gave a bow, then strode on through the gates, speaking to Rhaine quietly as he did so. "There are some advantages to having my particular... ancestry... but all the same, I would like it if we found a place some distance from these gates, just for safe measure." Tenebris stiffened for a moment suddenly, an ominous feeling worming its way into his heart. He glanced around casually, trying to play off the feeling while checking his surroundings. Despite not noticing anything, it continued to bother him, and he noted to bring it up later with the party's leader. Sometimes... I hate my life..., he rued silently his ability to foretell, then banished the thought kept moving, eager to eat a hot meal. ============================== A figure in the shadows watched as a large group of adventurers entered through Innarlith's gates, a sadistic smile coming to his face, one that grew larger as he spotted the illithid, thoughts of murder playing in his mind. Simple yet powerful magics kept the murderer known as Zuir from being detected, and he sent a message to his mistress. They have arrived in Innarlith, mistress. I shall take care of their leaders as you wished. Enjoying the thoughts of events to come, the assassin turned around, and disappeared in the alley...

Tenebris scoffed and shook his head at Aurora's response. "Typical...." Nope, doesn't remember... He shrugged and started walking towards the fire where Nawen was cooking. "Well, if you are quite finished, I believe I shall get a bite to eat..." he said, before adding in a very quiet voice: "...before someone gives it to the animals..." Dri's mouth dropped at Weyland's words. She had at first been dismissive of Aurora, not wanting to hear about her, but at that story... "Tak'we? Our Tak'we? The giant insect who could rip someone in half? That Tak'we?" She stared at the man, trying to determine if he was pulling her leg or not. When no one contradicted Weyland, the girl simply shook her head. "Tymora, what strange bit of luck will you pull next?" No sooner than had she finished the words there was loud, angry screeching and the sounds of increasingly loud wrestling in the tall grass as the struggle came closer to camp. Suddenly a massive, enraged boar burst out of the brush, with an equally-enraged, familiar pink thri-kreen latched onto its back. The angry brute jerked this way and that, trying to dislodge the insectoid ripping away at its thick hide. It charged madly, causing Tenebris to curse as he ran and tackled Aurora out of harm's way. The boar finally dislodged Tak'we from its back when it tripped and sent the thri-kreen flying into the cooking fire Nawen was attending, narrowly missing her and ruining the fire and some of the food, while the rest remained unsoiled in the cooking pot. Tak'we got up, hissing with pain as the hot coals singed his chitin, and charged the boar just as it recovered and charged as well. At the last moment, he dodged under its jutting tusk and grabbed it as they met and, using his own body as a fulcrum and the animal's own weight, flipped it past him and twisted it to the ground with a vicious thump! With the animal stunned, Tak'we didn't hesitate and drove a clawed hand straight into the creature's chest, putting its rampage to an end at last. Hissing with the effort as he tried to catch his breath, the thri-kreen looked around and gave an apologetic shrug. "Thiss one iss back early," he offered timidly. "Tak'we brought food with him, if clutchmates would like ssome..."

Tak'we felt utterly humiliated after sparring with Aurora. He felt so confidant in fighting the small softskin... Stupid spirit-touched softskins... no fair at all. Angry and disappointed in himself, he went off hunting, hoping to find some prey upon which to vent his frustration on. Tenebris spent a good while in a foul mood. He didn't typically feel this way, but a lousy night's rest and no breakfast left him not caring what happened even if the world came up and bit him. Eventually though, he got out of his funk and watched as Aurora surprisingly defeated the mantis warrior. Striding up to her as he watched the thri-kreen march off sulking, he spoke aside to the bard. "So... still risking having your personage ravaged physically, I see..." He gave her a non-expressive look as he said this, mulling over a past experience. I wonder if she even remembers that time... Dri finally came back out as Nawen was cooking food, looking better than she had when she first left the cabins. "That smells great, Nawen," she said, offering a smile as she sat down next to Weyland, glad that Aurora wasn't sitting next to him. "So, what have you been up to, Weyland?"