The wind ruffled Reks' hair, and it blew blindly into his face. Wiping it to one side, he turned on the branch he was perched on, the wind now at his back. He had his short-bow out, and the string pulled back, a creature standing a few feet from the base of the tree. That Wild Boar would be his next meal. Hopefully.

He nocked an arrow on the string, pulling it back as far as his arm would allow. His left eye closed, and his right eye on the target, he adjusted his feet position and prepared to fire. In one swift motion, the arrow whizzed through the air, striking the Wild Boar in its hind quarters.
"Gotcha." Reks whispered, grabbing a branch and sliding from his spot. Using his feet for leverage, he jumped from the branch, sliding down the trunk of the tree and landing smoothly on the ground.

Reks' eyes grew terribly wide as he landed, for the Boar was headed right toward him, anger and pain in its eyes.
"Bodaget." he said, the boar pinning him painfully against the tree. The Boar's main horn at the top of its head had missed his flesh, embedded in the tree just below his crotch area. The two other horns had pinned him against the tree, their forms just making it into the skin on either side of his legs.

"Come...On!" He yelled, ripping the horns from his legs, and using the creature's head as a balance beam. Due to the horn still in the tree, this boar would be an easy kill. Brining his foot up, Reks slammed it down upon the creature's neck, a loud crunching sound audible from beneath its skin. Reks jumped to the ground next to the body, and pulled it from the tree, setting it down next to a fairly large rock. Pulling out a small dagger, Reks began to open its skin, preparing it for a meal.

His knees dug deep into the soft surface of the mud creating a thick splattering sound. With a sharp incline of the man’s torso his hands fell forward and landed on the earth to stop his momentum. For a second he laid on all fours, breathing hard, with sweat dripping from the top of his brow and into the leafage below. After a moment the man’s head shot up eyes beaming crimson red almost like he was in pain. But after a split second a blink separated the stare and, with a squint, the man’s eyes returned to a sparkling humanly green. He sputtered, looking worm, with only a cloak to cover his body and a thin substance shining over his whole anterior.

Vaudeux Jupiter was a half-dragon, fresh from his first transformation in years. Suddenly he could feel every muscle pulsing and quivering back into place. While something in the pit of his abdomen felt twisted and pained him. He took a step, staggering slightly on the soft ground, and only managed to aggravate the feeling further. For a moment he stood while his body calmed back into his human form, squinting down the trunk of the closest tree while determining to keep his balance. After a moment his head suddenly felt clearer and gulped down his remaining feelings to raise his head to a normal stance.

It was a rare occurrence for him, and an unwelcome one. He never chose to transform, but merely gave into the Wyrms wishes. He didn’t like its logic for certain things, but its mind was keen enough to avoid defeat. The green irises traveled up the trunk of the tree until he spied its branches, interlocking with the majority of the other trees in the thick forest. It was a wondered he was able to crash through the branches without harm. Next he looked around his immediate area, in thick portion of the woods, he didn’t recognize where he was nonetheless. With a pull and a whip of his cloak he spun and walked barefoot through the underbrush and towards the thinning trees.

Jupiter felt unnecessarily bare, he would need to find more clothes that would last substantially. The man kept forward, keeping his cloak tightly wrapped around his body. The pressed onward and the trees thinned letting more sun escape through the overhanging canopy and absorbing into his black cape. No mater how hot he was he kept his cloak tight. He wasn’t extremely modest, but he mainly thought about enemies in the unfamiliar woods. A naked man was a big target, unwanted or not. After several moments of sweating and avoiding prickly obstacles in the woods he could smell the fresh scent of water, just what he needed after his ordeal.

Picking up the pace he hurried through the thinning trees and over the baby grasslands until he could see a small brook meters ahead. Once he was feet from the shore he heard a womanly giggle and stopped, glanced up stream, and shot behind a tree. It was not only a woman but a male accomplice. The pair was fair-skinned, slim with long limbs and pointed chins, Elves. He pursed his lips, there was no way they would tolerate his presence. He hid behind the trees and kept a close watch on the couple splashing up in the stream. The male stripped down to his long johns carelessly throwing his hand-woven articles to the trees behind, the Elves’ true intention in the form of the beauty basking in the waters.

Vaudeux grinned manically and ducked fully behind the trees. He kept his ears open and waited for the precise moment to act. There was a large splash, Jupiter moved from his spot and hurried to duck behind the closest tree. The pair laughed at a private joke and he again moved allowing the noise to cover his footfalls. Eventually he was close enough to nab the garments and the boots near them then, once again, slip out of sight. He moved back into the thick of the trees until he could follow up stream, away from the elves. He carried the black uniform in his arms until he reached the mouth of the brook, a small version of a waterfall. Here he too basked in its waters to remove the sweat and the remnants of his transformation.

Soon he was normal, dirt-free, and sharp faced once more. After cleansed he slipped the garments snuggly over his body until he was clothed once more. He pressed the seems down to his form and was impressed at the elves handiwork, they always had nicer items than any of the other races when it came to necessities. It was a long-sleeved collared shirt with black matching pants, there was a thin strip of green running up the sides and curling around his torso. It fit well enough, if anything a bit tight around his bulkier chest and arms, but since the Elf was taller than him it turned out to be long enough. After Vaud tightened up the stolen boots around his feet he set off back into the forest to settle down for some rest.

Soon he was able to find a clearing and make himself a fire pit. From there he created a spark with a few choice combinations of rocks and a good amount of striking force. He fed the fire a healthy amount of leaves until it could survive on its own with sticks and logs. It was a perfect roasting fire. After a moment he settled against the trunk of a tree, watching the flames. There was a rustling nearby and a squeal, like from a wild hog. Vaud perked up immediately and glanced around the trunk of his tree, meat sounded good and if there were boars he might just have to put his own dagger to use. Yet, by the sound of it, someone else had already partaken in the sport. He grinned back at his fire, perhaps it would attract the hunter. With that thought he relaxed back onto the tree and adjusted his cloak behind his head, like a pillow, then slowly shut his lids.

Only the tip of the sun's orange form peeked over the mountains, slowly falling and giving way to darkness, and the night. A cool spring breeze blew through the treetops of the forest, shifting leaves and surrounding the countryside in a soft melody, composed by nature and played by the rustle of leaves and gentle swaying of branches. A dark form moved with the leaves, the edges of its figure blowing with the wind. It was sprawled out on a high branch of an oak tree, with a black cloak wrapped around it and a large, wide-brimmed hat low on its head. The cap obscured his face, but two bright eyes could be glimpsed from underneath it, multicolored and seemingly glowing in the encroaching twilight. The figure was a man, a demonhunter not from this world and eager to get back to his own. He was enjoying himself, though, and this was turning out to be quite the vacation.

Sartana sat up and looked at the sunset, scratching the back of his long, dark hair. This land was far more peaceful than Tarsonis, his own world. A war was supposable going on, but it hadn't effected the people of the land in the least bit; not in a way he could see, anyway. It wasn't like the battle tearing apart his homeland. The one that threatened to wipe out humanity altogether. A picture of Victoria came into view, slowly appearing in his mind, but he pushed it away. There was no sense in worrying about her; not now, anyway. There was nothing he could do at the moment. Nothing but enjoy himself, and look for a way home.

He slipped off the branch's edge and landed softly on the forest floor, his cape gliding in the wind and draping around his sides when he landed. The demonhunter stood up straight, and sniffed the air. So fresh, and full of life. Not even the protected forests of Tarsonis retain their earthly scent. He shook his head gently, and began walking slowly with well-placed steps, as silent as an owl gliding in the still of night. He thought as he walked. Yes, so, this plane does indeed contain obsidian in its depths. With this metal, the demonic legion was able to invade Tarsonis, warping through portals they created in the ground. How, then, can I use the metal to my own advantage, and teleport back to my world? Sartana stopped, and tilted his head to the side, turning to a nearby tree. He looked annoyed.

An object tore through the leaves of a tree to the side of the demonhunter. The blur careened towards the man, aimed for his head. A deft movement of Sartana's head brought himself out of the arrow's path, and the narrow shaft embedded itself in a tree behind him. Moments later, a man jumped from the tree, sword in hand and red bandanna tied over his forehead. Several more men appeared around Sartana, who stood unmoving, regarding them all through slit eyes. Bandits so far into the wilderness? I wonder what they could be doing here. There was a trail of smoke not far from the demonhunter's position, coming from a campfire, and he wondered if it was the bandit's, or maybe not travelers. He had also heard the squeal of a boar only moments earlier- was that the work of the bandits, too? Sartana's stomach growled. Maybe I'll trade their lives for the boar meat? No- they're too cocky for that. They'd surely see my threats as idle.”

The bandits were flanking him now, six in all, each wearing a red bandanna somewhere on their person and looking somewhat clean, and well-equipped for bandits. Sartana noted this. One stepped forward. He had a shaved head and wielded a sword and dagger combo.

“I'm feelin' generous, stranger. You dodged the bolt of 'ole Harry's crossbow- that's impressive. So, I'll letcha live if you just hand over all yur gold 'n...” He lifted an eyebrow. “Maybe gimme that fancy hat o' yurs, too.” Sartana's Dao of Destruction was unsheathed before the man finished his sentence, and he was dead- a dagger sticking out of his throat- before he hit the ground.

The men roared in outrage and attacked.

The boar's meat wasn't too great, but it would have to do. Reks knew that he could go fishing later, after all, there was a stream nearby. But, in his condition, stuffed from all the hard, raw meat he had eaten, he could hardly even move. There was still plenty of meat left, everything remaining except for a small patch from the creature's exposed hide. The wild Boars in the forest were huge, nearly bigger than Reks himself.

Sighing deeply, he sat back. The air where he was sitting seemed strangely still, and he could smell fire somewhere in the forest.
"I've got some visitors." he said, looking everywhere that he could see. Reks could see a thin stream of black smoke rising from the forest a little ways off, and he decided to check it out.

Standing up, Reks couldn't help but to let out a long, gut wrenching burp. He tasted blood in his mouth, and he swallowed, he had always hated the taste of blood, but he was never good at making fires either. Looking down at the dead Boar, he decided that he would learn to make fires soon, or he'd have to get used to the taste of blood. Shrugging, he began walking, stepping over twigs and leaves alike, trying to stay as quiet as possible.

As he trekked, the smell of smoke intensified, and he could hear the sounds of battle.
"What is there, a party?" he asked himself, sniggering quietly. Slowly slipping his bow from his back, he kept it out, just in case somone decided that the battle would move to where he was. Looking right, he saw a group of men surrounding a lone man, each one taking turns attacking the man. Shaking his head, Reks decided to leave them to the battle, knowing that if he tried to help the man, he would only end up getting hurt, or even killed. Besides, the fire was closer than he thought.

"Ah. What brings you here? There's a war going on over that way." Reks said, stumbling into a small clearing, a man sitting against a tree and a fire lit in front of him. "This your fire?" he added, shrugging. He kept his bow out, not knowing if the man would try to hurt him or not.

Vaud perked up as soon as he heard the mans voice. The prospect of his plan succeeding brought a private smirk to his face as his lids popped open to meet his new visitor. For a moment he studied the man, equipped with bow and quiver in one hand with the other empty. He glared for a half a second, at the absence of meat, and settled his head back down onto his cloak with an inaudible sigh,

“That’s correct,” Replied the thief with pursed lips until he could feel a growling sensation in his stomach. He sat up straight and removed the cloak from behind his head setting the garment on his lap, whatever he could do to keep his mind off of the feeling of hunger. For a moment he noticed the man lingering until he realized what the man had said a moment earlier. A war? Jupiter thought with alarm.

His eyes darted to the man’s bow then to his attire, yet the patron didn’t look like a solider. Quickly the thief stood to his full height and turned his head sideways, a quizzical expression etched in the lines of his face. “You’re not trying to recruit me, are you?” He asked suspiciously confused with a pair of narrow eyes.

In the quick moment of silence he heard an uproar of rage that sounded like it was a group of men. Whatever it was something big was happening. Something he could only imagine. He had just got done being in a fight, another didn’t strike him as particularly favorable as curling up by the fire with a large boar steak. Nevertheless he first decided to take measure of his new guest before he decided to check out the commotion.

Keeping low to the ground, Shelendri slowly stalked her prey. The rabbit was nice and plump, and would make her a good meal. If she could catch it. The last one had gotten away, leaving her without lunch. Which was why she was being so careful. Rabbits here were smarter then she'd given them credit for, which was why her stomach was telling her very clearly that breakfast had been a long time ago. And trying to catch herself some food as a human had probably been a bad move. She wasn't very good at setting traps, and she didn't a have a bow. But you had to try, right? Having learned from her mistake, she was hunting in the form of a grey wolf. She was bound to catch her prey now.
Jumping out from the bushes, she grabbed the rabbit's neck and quickly snapped its neck. Quick, and she hadn't gotten any blood on herself. Pleased, she took a firmer grip on the rabbit and started back toward the clearing where she'd lit a fire. She'd be eating her dinner in no time at all.
She was rather disappointed that when she reached the clearing, that her fire had gone out. That would teach her for not putting enough wood on it. She dropped the rabbit and was on the verge of shape shifting back to her human form, when she heard the sounds of a battle. She waged an internal arguement with herself as to wither she should check it out or mind her own business and eat her dinner, but checking it out won, as it always did. Sometimes curiousity could be a troublesome thing to have.
Trotting toward the sounds of fighting, she slowed when she got close. Slinking through the trees, she considered the scene. It looked like a group of bandits were ganging up on a single traveller, as they were want to do. She found that habit of theirs rather annoy, so she decided to lend the single man a hand. After all, she was in the form of a wolf.
Stepping out into the opening, she spicked up her hackles and began to snarl. Gathering herself, she leaped onto the back of one of the bandits and sank her long teeth into his shoulder. He howled out in pain and span in circles trying to dislodge her. Just before he ran into a nearby tree, she jumped off and got some satisfaction out of hearing his nose break as he ran into the tree.
Hearing one of the others coming up behind her, she span around and neatly dogde him. Ripping into the back of his knee, she crippled his leg, then turned to watch the rest of the fight. She'd gotten enough blood on her face and chest for now and she'd bet that the lone man could deal with the rest. If not, she was there to lend a man.

He'd been tracking the bandits for most of the day, when he met up with them he followed closely, waiting for a distraction to allow him to come down on them. The trees were old and sturdy, supporting without complaint his large frame.

There they were, finally, they had met upon a lone traveler and were circling him like hungry wargs. From his current spot he couldn't get to the one smelling of brimstone, he'd get there soon enough.

Like a great shadow the eight feet tall figure landed softly upon the ground, with his oaken quarterstaff held with both hands.

One-step two-step three-hit

The first bandit goes down with a crushing hit on the right temple, but at the same time a snarl caught his attention -he had heard something by the undergrowth at the other side of the path, but hadn't thought a wolf would confront so many humans-, and a jet of warm blood hit his left arm.

Using this distraction to grab an opportunity, after recovering, a second bandit thrusted his shortsword into Nathaniel's left side, causing an explosion of pain and bringing forth an acute whine of complaint.
The bandit's bravado did him no good: Nathaniel pushed (almost threw) the human with a swipe from his staff, leaving him dazzled at the feet of the traveler.

Clenching his jaw, he tried to remove the blade from his side, but he had to watch his guard...
Two bandits had been fell swiftly by the wolf -who didn't smell much of wolf-, and one of them by the lone traveler in a lightning fast move.

He stood on a defensive stance, waiting for any of the bandits to approach. The one smelling of brimstone seemed far too calm, he hadn't jumped at the traveler...
Suddenly, the strange-smelling bandit's eyes started to glow greenish, and strange words started to pour out of his mouth as unnatural poison pours out of a corrupted stone.

While Nathaniel didn't lower his guard, his azure eyes widened from under the hood.

Reks studied the man, who was now identified as a theif. Only rouges and theives carried such weapons as him, and he seemed more clean cut than the rest of the people he had met around there.
"No, I'm not trying to recruit you, all I wanted to know was if you heard all that bloody noise over there. It sounds like a war." he told the strange man, keeping an arrow notched in his bow string. That was something his father had taught him at a very young age, 'Never turn your back, and always keep an arrow notched.' he used to tell him, referring to strangers. Except, Reks was smart, and he wouldn't be caught dead around strange people without at least one hand on a weapon hilt.

As he finished his sentence, Reks heard the bark of what sounded like a dog or wolf, then, the scream of a man. He heard something crack, and realized that there definately was a battle going on in the forest. Reks heard the stranger's stomach growl, and he looked into his eyes. He looked hungry.
"Listen. I'm usually not this generous, but you look strong...And I've got a whole Wild Boar at my camp. Why don't we head over there, and you can have something to eat, then, we can check out this little...Confrontation." he told the man, an arrow still ready to be launched.

Reks didn't really trust the stranger, but, he never really trusted anybody, except beautiful women of course. But he also knew that this man could be of some assistance to him in the future, a strong ally of sorts. The thought of this man joining his party brought a warm feeling to his chest area, after all, lonliness was the number one killer of adventurers.
"C'mon. We'll talk on the way. You first." he said, smiling. He motioned for the stranger to move ahead of him, just in case he tried something sneaky.

There was no doubt that there was a lot of “bloody noise” happening in the nearby clearing. There was a hefty amount of footsteps, an almost unbearable level of yelling and war cries, and also the scuffing and pattering of footsteps that sounded somewhat animalistic in nature. At that moment he resisted the urge to check in on the action and turned back to the man whom had addressed him, taking in his words. Right away he noticed the arrow still gripped tight on the man’s bow while showing no signs of relenting. This wasn’t bothersome to the half-breed, but merely a chosen action that would only keep him on his toes for the time being.

A slightly mischievous grin formed at one corner of his mouth, standing slightly taller as he listened, enjoying the compliment towards his strength. Finally the visitor offered what he had been longing for since the first stone was cast over to unleash the flames in his fire pit. The flesh of his captured animal through the woods. The offer was a bit premature, but perhaps his new acquaintance was feeling generous and Jupiter wasn’t the like to turn down food, one of the basic needs for survival. With a slight tilt of his head he looked onward with eyes that were narrowed only slightly, that didn’t suggest willingness or desperation.

“You offered,” He answered adding a smirk to his new expression, then starting towards the exit of his small clearing. After a step he glanced back at his own fire. The tops of its highest flame licking up to an imaginary line that was around knee level for the thief. Somewhere inside he didn’t care what happened if the first somehow got out of hand and burnt down a small part of the forest, yet he had a sinking feeling that it would soon die out because of the lack of adequate oxygen to waft-in and fuel the flame. He turned back and moved ahead of his mint host and into the mouth of the woods, where the struggle was still unfolding.

There was a pair of beasts taking down their share of scrubby looking men, all with matching bands of cloth tightened around their brows. The beasts flew through the air, sinking their teeth deep into the flesh of the unlucky men. One large wolf-like creature in particular was cunning enough to stay on the defensive after a wound. Vauds humanly eyes darted from one occurrence to the next, finally landing on a man in the center, calmly standing about and waiting for the men to start as if was the centre of the whole fight. Suddenly one of the red-clothed men fly by, obviously in anguish, and Jupiter stood straighter to move his body out of the flight path. He watched the body go by after that moment, they looked rather familiar, but he couldn’t quite place them.

Nevertheless he looked back at the fray for a moment, the battle looking like it was gaining momentum rather than losing it. The battle was already chaotic enough without another couple pair of feet stepping in, besides he didn’t feel as if he needed to do anything that would aid in his own good. He didn’t need to help anyone, it was their matter to get caught up in their own messes and if he could stand back and watch, then it was all the better. Perhaps the man had wanted Jupiter to go first, fight his way to food or maybe he just didn’t harness the caliber of the battle ahead. Cautiously he turned back to his new acquaintance and spat with fluidity to the suggestion for them to travel across to the other camp,
“Is that wise?”

A huge creature landed out of the trees, entering the fight. To her now sensitive nose, he smelled strange. But she didn't have time to consider that. The bandit she had crippled had regained his feet to some extent, and lashed out at her with his sword. She dodged the swing, but a fast second, flickering, swing caught her in the shoulder. Howling with pain, she fell back. Her body began to shake and her outline blurred. Normally, she could keep in another form as long as she wanted, but she always shifted back to her human form after suffering an injury.
When the blurring cleared, she was in her human form again, clasping her injured shoulder. The bandit gapped at her, obviously having never come across a shape shifter before. Taking the opportunity, Shelendri dropped the hand that had been clasping her shoulder to the ground and put her weight on it. Then she wiped her leg up and around, kicking the bandit in the head. His eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed.
Returning her hand to her shoulder, she got to her feet. It wouldn't do if she got caught on her knees. She watched the fight, ready to jump out of the way if any more of the bandits went for her. Then she noticed that there were two men standing on the edge of things. Neither wore the red cloth tied around the head as the bandits did, so she guessed that they weren't part of this gang. And they were hanging back, so it was unlikely that either aimed to harm any of the people in the fight, bandit or otherwise. But that didn't mean she should let her guard down. For all she knew, they could just be waiting to pick off the last ones, after the fighting was done.