A cool wind whipped lightly through the port, a harbringer of the night winds that would chill the air around every inhabitant and building within Adune in just a couple of hours - if the twilight lasted that long. The sky was a soft purple and the first few stars of the night were just beginning to twinkle as the sun slowly sunk beneath the horizon, leaving it a beautiful red-orange. Eratnu Folliernes watched it all with a sense of peace and satisfaction as he ate.

The locals seemed to have a generous supply of crab at their fingertips, and this tiny cafe prepared it finely indeed. It was juicy and succulent, yet not so much so that Eratnu got his meal everywhere. He was wearing a rather large cloth napkin over his shirt, though, and he had one between his plate and his tall glass of spiced red wine. As he ate, he pondered the people around him. There were so many people of so many different races here in Arda. So many people of so many varying attitudes and personalities and opinions on so many different things. It was a wonder they did not all kill each other, what with Elves and fairies and nymphs thinking their problems were not the problems of humans, and half-dragons thinking they should rule all around those that would deign to exist within 'their' territory. Then there were the orcs and half-orcs, and the half-elves, and so many others.

He knew these things were stereotypical, of course, but so many people did not. There were so many that thought such things were merely the way things were. In truth, half the people in Port Adune were probably just as seemingly 'normal', so to speak - if anything in Arda could ever truly be called 'normal' - as everyone else.

Still, it surprised him that so many different groups of so many different peoples were able to gather in one place without starting a war. But after nearly six thousand years of life, Eratnu had learned to simply let things be. He wouldn't bother about it if others wouldn't - unless, of course, it happened to interrupt his delicious meal.

Eratnu finished one of his crabs and had the plate taken away as he started in on his other one. He also had his wine refilled and some bread brought to him. It was a good meal, certainly - a delicious meal. Eratnu had always loved seafood. He liked fish and had a great liking for crab, and he ate them as often as he could. He was regular at this cafe, and the owner - a petite yet tough woman hardened by a good many years in some pretty rough parts of Arda - often called him a seafood fanatic because of it. He couldn't help smiling at that each time she mentioned it and responding with, "Yes, ma'am, I am. But it certainly makes you happy, doesn't it?"

To which she always replied, with a wink and a mischievous grin, "Whatever keeps my house clean and my husband fed."

Eratnu smiled now as he thought about that. Matilda was a good woman, which was why he'd helped her out a few months ago when she nearly went out of business. There had been a shipment of tainted lionfish from the other side of Arda and, it being Matilda's biggest seller, it nearly broke her. He lent her quite a bit of money to keep the place going, and she had given him a month of free meals in return. He'd tried to refuse, saying that she should consider the gift just that and not a loan or a payment for meals, but the woman was steadfast and stubborn - which was one of the reasons she'd never been hustled out of her cafe in the ten or so years that she'd owned it.

Eratnu sat back with his wine and bread after finishing the second crab. He wondered briefly if there could be any better life than this. It was good living in the port. He decided that there was one thing he could use now: friendly conversation. He liked that as much as he liked the crab, and the only thing better than either was fine tabbac in his silver-worked pipe. He seemed to be in luck, though, as someone appeared to be looking for a seat in the small, slightly crowded courtyard that served as the cafe's exterior dining area.

Arthur was quite hungry he had been Performign around Adune all day earnig enough gold to get him into one of the bets restraunts in town a place that had the best sea food he had ever tasted he had eaten here often enough to know that. He was a real carnesour to know that. Of course he would eat anythign that could be considered food that was proabably the dragon in him. He was let in and saw one of the only open seats in the place which was by a man with a bib around his neck. He went up and said," Don't mind if I sit here do you".

Amzela, hiddin by her cloak, was taking a walk down to the docks, where she would met the probably-sea-sick Tetea. As she strolled, she caught a good whiff of some crab cooking. Following her nose and stomach, she walked up to a group of men. She seemed to ask them where boat 9932 (which she didn't really know) was and which dock it was boarding, then slipped and fell onto the man. "Sorry sir." She walked away, smiling with the coins in her hand. She walked up to an empty seat, and sat down. It's my free day, so why not eat crab? As she ordered, she saw an unusual sight. A half-dragon and a man. I could try to pick pocket them. She walked up to them, did the same thing that she did with the other men, then slipped. This time, she tried grabbing for the purse, but missed. And she did it in an obvious state. I'm in big trouble now. she thought as she grabbed her sword.

((That's connoiseur. :rolleyes: ))

Eratnu took a good long look at the man, though in truth he didn't mind at all. He shook his head slightly and motioned toward the seat on the other side of the table - there were only two chairs, you see, and Eratnu was (naturally) sitting in one of them - with his wine glass.

"Be my guest."

A half-Dragon, by the looks of him. Interesting. Draconic Quendi were the most unique of the Elven races because of the bonding of a Dragon's spirit to their own as the dragon dies. It's the final passing of a Dragon, and the reason Dragons lived on even after their death. Yet half-Dragons were another matter completely, of course. Their existence was through breeding, not 'melding' (the process by which a Dragon's spirit merged with an Elf's), so theirs was a part of their blood rather than their spirit. Yet they had the qualities of Dragons just as Draconic Quendi did, only in a different way; whereas half-Dragons took on the physical form of their Draconic parentage and gained the ability to transform completely into either a Dragon or a human (or whatever other race comprised their non-Dragon half), Draconic Quendi took on the immense magical energies and massive physical qualities of a Dragon's spirit rather than its body. Through this, of course, Draconic Quendi could take on the wings of a Dragon to match their body with that of the Dragon's spirit residing within them, yet they had to learn to do this - whereas half-Dragons did it easily. It was as natural to them as breathing was to all animals or creatures that didn't require sunlight, water, and good soil to reproduce.

That was why he found half-Dragons so intriguing. What Draconic Quendi studied half-Dragons did naturally, thus allowing for far more maneuverability with their magic and non-magic studies alike, insofar as learning was concerned at an rate. The blue-skinned half-Dragon before him seemed no different from any other Eratnu had met over the last five-thousand-plus years save that he carried a weapon. Most half-Dragons he had met - and he had met several of them - didn't carry any weapons at all, for they didn't need them. They either studied magic in tandem with their own innate abilities or used only their innate abilities to accomplish what they needed to.

Regardless, Eratnu wasn't at all surprised with the weapon. He had seen many, many strange things throughout Arda during his long, immortal lifetime. This didn't even begin to qualify as out of the ordinary, let alone phenomenally astounding.

So he regarded the half-Dragon as calmly and casually as he would have anyone (or anything) else, speaking to him as if neither race nor origin mattered - which it didn't, in his mind.

"Here to enjoy a meal? The crab is particularly delicious, and I wouldn't say no to a bit of their bread, either."

He took a sip of his wine. It was good wine and well-spiced, but not made to burn the tongue or throat. He hated that. Some people just didn't understand the meaning of 'subtle' when it came to spiced wine; it was either completely bland or too thick for an ogre's throat. He continued watching the sunset as he finished his own bread, then pulled out his pipe.

"You don't mind if I smoke, do you?"

He didn't want to disturb his company. After all, it would have been rude and he enjoyed conversation besides.

The presence of the woman changed everything, though. In an instant, Eratnu's pipe was back in his coat pocket and his katana was at the woman's throat. He was on his feet and stared at her with a cold, cool gaze. He had seen the gesture. Five-thousand-plus years had taught him to be wary at all times while simultaenously remaining as at-ease as a polar bear in the far north of Arda's mountainous regions.

"Can I help you with something, dear lady?"

"GAH!" She cried as a couple of plates clattered to the ground. The half-dragon hissed and turned back to its human form. "HELP!" she yelled as the man stood up and tried to grab her by her hair. She ran across the room, almost knocking over a woman with a baby. "Sorry!" She ducked under a table as the men ran outside. When things seemed to calm down, she stood up. Two men, an strange looking half-elf-half-dragon person and a regular man that looked familiar to her, were sitting at that table. "Sorry, masters. Would you excuse me if I join you?" She bent down and whispered. "It will hid my mistake." They have to let me in or I'm dead meat!


(What does that word mean?)

Arthur smiled at the man who seemed as if he had a dragon like aura to him. Being a hlaf-dragon one could tell if someone had either dragon blood in him or had some dragon spirit so Arthur smiled at his advantages over most people. He detransfromed himself to human form and said," No please go ahead I don't mind". Then he hear a crash and saw this girl run. Then he saw two men leaving obviously after the girl. He then saw the girl right next to them and saw the man had a katana out a rare weapon especially for this region. He said," Peace Elf Brother she means no harm, sit miss pull up a chair I will not harm you". He grabbed one of his gold purses the one that was in his shirt and pullled out a gold nugget worth about 10 coins and took his order from the waitress anfd gave her the nugget and put his purses back under his shirt and said," Please sit eat, forgive me for not intro ducing myself sir Iam Arthur and you dear lady need not steal gold in crowded places especially dangerous".

((I'm confused...by her last post, I mean...sorry, but I am. Oh, well...I'll just go with it. :blink: Oh, and a connoiseur is someone that takes great pleasure in the finer things in life - like a wine connoiseur, for example.))

There was a very long moment of waiting that seemed to stretch on forever as Eratnu's blade pressed firmly against the woman's throat, leaving a tiny indentation but not yet drawing any blood. One simple flick of his wrist, and the woman's head would go flying. Thieves - they were almost as bad as liars. They took what was not theirs without asking, without paying, without offering anything in return for them at all. They saw the world as their own personal coffer. The only thing were liars, the way Eratnu saw it, for they got good at what they did real fast; at least thieves you could read like a child's story book.

The look in his eyes, too, was cold and emotionless. It was a clearly professed statement that he cared nothing for anyone who stole, or tried to steal, and he had seen what the woman had done. His eyes were not old eyes; they were as sharp as ever they had been, despite his ancient age. He moved not a muscle, just pressing, looking, half-ready to kill her without a second's hesitation or a single fleeting thought as to what he was doing. In truth, no one would have blamed him.

Finally, reluctantly, he withdrew and resheathed his sword. He swiftly took back what she had stolen.

"I do not believe this belongs to you, thief. No wonder you were being chased. You probably stole from them, too," he said coldly.

Without another word, he walked over and returned what had been stolen, then returned to his seat. He kept his eyes - both of them - on her, not letting down his guard for a moment. Fool woman. She would not steal from him so easily as she had stolen from a mere mortal. He had lived far too long to be taken in by beauty, wits, or charm, and he wasn't about to start now.

"Sit," he said coldly. "And keep your hands where they can be seen, thief. You're lucky I don't hand you over to those men to do what they will with you. I can't abide thieves," he said in a low mumble as he returned to his meal, finishing his bread and wine. This time, he didn't bother to ask as he pulled out his pipe and thumbed tabbac into it from his pouch. He lit the pipe with the slowly burning candle on the table and began to puff on it slowly, casually, bluish plumes of smoke drifting up in the darkening evening.

"So, thief," he said to the woman, for he would not call a thief by its name - a thief did not deserve a name. "What brings you to our table? Perhaps another theft? Or an escape? Or something else entirely?"

(Many apologies. *bows*. I think you mistaken that the people weren't you. I should make myself clear. Sorry for the messup and the confusion.)

Amzela sat down. "Thank you so much. I apologize for my actions."
Sargraysa! Stop using your spell to control me.

If I stopped using the spell on you, you would have left me long ago. But since I'm old, I need you to do the work for me.

Amzela sighed. "No, I do not plan an escape, or a theft, or anything else. I just..."

Her symbol glowed on her back, though not visible through the heavy layers of clothes she wore.

"I'm want an escape."

Sargraysa! Shut up!

Not in less I want to.

I will make you!

Let's just see about that.


She looked back at the two men. "Uh... No, I don't want an escape. I just want to eat something, get some rest, and find Tetea." She gazed at the crab with such awe. Grab it, Amzela. Grab it! She tried to reach for the little money she kept to her, but Sargraysa had her ways. Amzela reached for her knife and stood up.

How many times do I have to tell you this? You are so foolish.

I will get away from you one day.

She started to kill people. She ran this way and that way, slashing at unarmed children and women. She moved on to the men, kill this way and that. "Dammit." She muttered. "Sargraysa! I'll get you for this."
She dropped the sword. Still, Sargraysa had her ways. Laughing madly in her mind, she used her magic and pulled her out of the building. "Sargraysa! Stop it!" Amzela ran straight down the block....and into Sargraysa herself. She growled, took out her sword, and tried to kill her. Amzela, free of Sargraysa's spells, jumped to the side and ran back to the restaurant. With the mad elf trying to attack her, she screamed to the two men she met. "Who ever you guys are! Help me!" Sargraysa's poison dripping blade grew closer to Amzela as she dodged smashed tables. "THIS IS SARGRAYSA! SHE'S MY LEADER! SHE'S THE ONE THAT'S CONTROLLING ME. GET ME OUT OF THIS SITTATION."

Pipe smoke still rose humbly from the fine blackwood pipe clenched between his teeth as Eratnu leapt to his feet, his katana in his hands as though it had simply appeared there. But Eratnu was too slow. Perhaps he had aged more than he realized. He did not have silver hair yet, but he was getting close. He watched helplessly as the women and children were mercilessly slaughtered before him, their blood pooling, screams ringing out everywhere as the crowds scattered in every direction, trying desperately to get away from the madwoman.

In anger, he lashed out as the woman returned. His blade was at her throat in an instant, and this time - though it had not penetrated more than a hair's breadth into the skin - a slender line of blood ran from a small nick in the woman's throat. Controlling her? But how could this woman be believed then? Or at all, really? She was thief, and now she could very well have been a liar. But Eratnu did not have time to do much more than parry as another woman rushed in and slashed at him, probably to get him out of the way so that she could strike at the girl.

The battle was a fierce one. The woman, whomever she was, was an excellent wielder of the sword. Yet she was hardly a match, and soon Eratnu slashed through her defenses like a hot knife through warm butter. He cut off her hands in one fluid motion and threw her against the the wall. Now his blade rested against both their throats, with the older woman's eyes bulging in fear. If she tried to speak, she knew, her throat would be cut. She could not cast a spell. She was helpless.

It would have almost been humorous - the pipe still in Eratnu's teeth and the bib still wrapped in his shirt and coat - had it not been for the half-dozen children that lay strewn about like bloody dolls, women lying dead where the children were not. It was all Eratnu could do not to cut both the women's throats and leave them to watch each other die. One had tried to kill him, and the other - the younger woman...he would not dare to look at what she had done.

"I want answers...now."

Eratnu's voice was cold, merciless, like a winter wind chilling a naked newborn babe not only to the bone, but to the very soul. It would have been enough to drive a stout man to drinking - or quit, as the situation might permit. There was no room in his voice for excuse, none for compromise, even less for hesitation or lies or blame. This was a time for explanations, and if he did not like the answers - or get answers, for that matter - he would cut both these women's throats with no regard for who they might have been. One had become a monstrous murderer of children - the women were bad, but not like the children, their eyes wide and lifeless, their mouths permanently stuck in silent screams of terror and pain mixed - and the other had tried to kill him. He had every right under the law to kill them both. The guards of this port knew him, too, and he would be questioned but not detained. They wouldn't even think on the matter twice, any more than they would think on a party long since ended. His knuckes were white on the hilt of the katan as he stared at these two women.

"Speak, or die."

When evrything happened Arthur was knocked out of his chair and unable to see what happened when he got up he saw bodies and he looked shocked this was the thing he was supposed to be prepared for. He saw the theif coming back in and anger filled him. He had shown her kindness and she had repayed it with blood. He almost went after her with his sword till the other man did. Then this woman came in after the girl. Arthru did not need his Dragon side to tell him this woman hade done the slaughtering not the girl. When the other man pushed her aginst the wall he wnt up to her fire blazing in his eyes his sword drawn it silvery steel gleamed in the light and he said," You shall not have this girl or anymore blood tonight witch, you may be able to get the elf if you do, nut me I am of Dragons Blood and what I am is beyond even your power to destroy, so you will answer our questions and then I will hang you for this crime".

Eratnu, too, was of Dragon's power - spirit more than blood, but certainly just as powerful as the half-Dragon beside him no doubt was. His blade pressed against both women's throats and the other one pressed against the obviously older woman's throat made for a very dangerous precipice the two women were standing on. He understood that the woman seemed to be controlling the girl, but why was another matter completely. Such wanton destruction, such needless bloodshed...it was horrific in and of itself, nevermind the mind control used to do it. It made Eratnu's heart ache to think of such things.

"Why were you controlling this girl? What purpose could you have possibly had in slaughtering these people?"

He thought he knew the answer already, but he didn't want to face it. He didn't want to face the fact that this woman was probably mad, bent solely on the pleasure of killing. He didn't seem to want to admit that the woman simply had no reason to slaughter innocent women and children - children! Young children, at that!

Sobs reached his ears, wails and screams of agony from mothers and fathers alike who'd suddenly lost their children. In the distance, the clanking of soldiers' boots could be heard at fast speed, running for the scene where the screaming had come from. This place was well-guarded, but who could guard against madness? This mayhem was most likely the work of such, and he could not - would not - abide such evil in his presence. The horror of what she had done...what she had made another do...Eratnu found his blade pressing closer and closer, tightening into the older woman's throat.

"Monster," he found himself saying in a low, deadly voice through clenched teeth. His knuckles were whiter than white now, like death incarnate and whitewashed. He wanted this woman to die, he realized. He wanted her to suffer...and it scared him. Badly.

With a visible effort, though, he regained control of himself. His hand was shaking ever so slightly with rage and hatred boiling his blood, heating his golden-hued flesh, burning in his golden eyes, making the hairs on the back of his neck and the outsides of his forearms stand on end.

Perhaps he really had lived far too long. Perhaps he was not ready to gain his silver hair. Perhaps...perhaps a lot of things. He would have to take this up with the Goddess of Balance, Threnody, in prayer at Her Temple later. But now, there was work to be done. Finally - slowly, but surely - he calmed himself, withdrawing into a cold, hard shell of reason.

"Answer me."

The words were spoken with no clenching of teeth or hint of emotion. That perhaps terrified the woman even more than his anger would have. She began to pour out her plan.

"We were just going to cause a little mayhem. Honest! Then we could get to the weapon shop over there and take what we wanted without incident. I was the one controlling her and focusing on the distraction! Don't kill me, please! Please don't kill me!"

"Who's 'we'?" he asked harshly.

"Me and three others! They're waiting outside the port for my signal!"

"Give it."

"I can't. Not now! It'll have been too long! They'll have broken their silence and moved to the west end of the port! Three men with large swords and quarterstaffs. They shouldn't be hard to miss! Let me live, please! I'll give you anything! I'll even control others for you!"

That was the wrong thing to say. He sneered at the begging woman and nearly killed her on the spot. Finally, with some difficulty, he pulled away and nodded roughly for the girl who'd been controlled to get out of there. Then he wiped his sword off on the other woman's blouse to make sure it was clean before sheathing it and spoke to the half-Dragon beside him.

"Deal with - this," he spat, indicating the woman before him, "Before I do. Because believe me, I probably won't be as nice as the guards that are about to enter this square."

((Sorry I didn't say your name, Arthur. I couldn't remember if you gave it IC or not. :blink: ))

( :o Sargraysa is suppose to be a demon and mute.)


Amzela gave them a wild look. "Don't kill her," she said coolly. "Kill her, kill me, kill lots of other people. Inoccent people."

Tricked you.


Sargraysa disappeared. Amzela shook her head in confusion. The guards came storming in. "There she is! Get her!" They took one step towards her but stop in mid-jump. All of them fell dead. There stood a man and a woman. The man had silver hair and blue eyes. The woman had orange-glowing eyes with wild yellow hair. The woman had a sword drawn out, poison dripping down the blade. "Markus, Sargraysa." Amzela growled, who was answered by a growl from Sargraysa. "Don't threaten her," Markus whispered. Amzela barely scraped her when Markus and Sargraysa side attacked her. As Amzela was wounded, someone stepped in the door. A wolf. No, a Lupine. Amzela fell to the ground, pale as moonlight. The poison had its ways. She blacked out, only thinking one thing. Don't go to your demon form.

((Oh...sorry...))

Things suddenly became a lot more complicated as the woman vanished. Eratnu blinked. Then he turned to the guards as they stepped into the square. They shouted at the girl, and - still trying to puzzle out precisely what had just happened - Eratnu was of a mind to let them have her. But then the guards fell to the ground, dead. The woman was there again, and a man with him. His sword was drawn and dripped with the guards' blood. Irritated that this was going even further than he'd expected, Eratnu doused his pipe and carefully placed it back into his coat pocket so that it wouldn't spill out the precious tabac; it seemed tabac had become a rare commodity here of late. Something about a bad crop was spilling through the port, but nothing with any definite word. Regardless, he didn't want to spilly more than he had to, or any at all for that matter. But now to the task at hand.

He drew his sword as the werewolf rushed out, racing for the girl. This had gone too far already - way too far. He took a deep breath and let it out, restoring the serenity that seemed to be present most of the time in him. The serenity granted by Threnody, which let him proceed calmly to step before the werewolf. A slash to its chest and it leaped back with a howl that made the hairs on the backs of Eratnu's neck and forearms raise. Yet he calmly launched another slash at it, and then another. He stepped aside as it slashed at him, coming around to slash at the beast's neck. The werewolf ducked and him Eratnu with a blow that sent him flying into a fruit stall all the way across the square. It wasn't the largest of squares, but Eratnu was suddenly very far from the incident.

It took him a full minute to free himself, but he was at least unhurt and unspoiled. Just a bit more irritated than usual, was all. He wiped his sword clean on a hanging rug and moved toward the scene again, but the man and woman were already moving to pick the unconscious girl up and transport her somewhere. the werewolf was snarling at her as though she might wake up and attack, but otherwise was merely watching and waiting. Eratnu was running full speed, but he knew he could not possibly get there in time to save her - even with his wings - and that irritated him more than anything else.

He leapt over several tables and slashed a couple of chairs out of his way. The man looked up and smiled at him - smiled! - as he rose up to his full height and put the girl over his shoulder. He offered a small salute. He was only a hundred paces from them - a hundred paces, no more! - and he wouldn't be able to free her! He didn't know what was going on, but had every intention of getting to the bottom of it, and fast...

Luciouses looked at the man and the werewolf. He instantly reconized the girl. "Amzela? Could that be Amza?" The ten-year-old Lupine hopped down. "Amza!" He cried. "Amza! It's me, Lucses!" Waving his paws, he ran after the sleeping girl. "Amza! Amza! It's me..." He looked at the man. "Amza? Amza? Are you..." He grew afraid and angry. Did the man kill his Amza? He drew his weapon. "Did you hurt Amza?"

Eratnu was almost there. He hopped a small pile of bodies, forcing himself in the process not to glance at the lifeless children, their eyes staring up at the sky as their blood pooled around them. It was a sickening sight, to be sure, and one that he'd hoped he'd never have to see again. But he couldn't worry about it. Almost there...

The woman vanished, but the man seemed to be calmly waiting for Eratnu to arrive. Then a boy arrived. Great. Another victim to protect. He rushed forward, and was joined by powerful lupine jaws and claws as he raised his katana to defend himself against the armed demon. The man had dropped the girl - Amzela, apparently - and raised his own sword. The katana and the longsword clashed with a ring of steel upon steel, sparks flying as Eratnu's blade matched the swordsman's strike for strike, parry for parry, block for block. The man was obviously a master swordsman at the very least, or he would not have been able to match him as this man was. The man moved his feet like the master he so obviously was, pushing Eratnu back a step only to be driven back several by Eratnu's razor-sharp katana.

The werewolf, too, joined in the fray. He slashed and punched and kicked and snapped his jaws at the man, but nothing made any leeway. The werewolf took a slash across the werewolf's chest, and then another from hip to chest, and several more besides. By the time the werewolf had withdrawn, he had been badly wounded. He would need healing before he did much more, and a lot of rest. Meanwhile, though Eratnu kept on fighting the man. He sensed - something - about him. Something evil...but he couldn't precisely pinpoint what it was. Then it hit him: demon. He'd felt that presence before, that power, that loathesome foulness that he could never quite get past...the man was a demon.

Eratnu finally managed to score a small hit on the man's left arm, a deep slash that had him recoiling and wincing as he grunted. He faltered, and was on the defensive - heavily on the defensive, for Eratnu had wasted no time. He was not one to waste time where such things were concerned.

Then he sensed - something - and had just ducked in time to narrowly avoid a spell directed at him. The man he'd been fighting suddenly screamed and reared back. The woman was back, and with a vengeance, but she stared in horror as Eratnu sprung to press the advantage, and hard. He swept up and cut the man's right arm off, then came around with a slash to the man's stomach that had him hunched over in pain. He turned to the woman but she was gone again. He really wished she would stop that.

He turned to the girl on the ground. She was merely unconscious, but he could feel the poison in her. He quickly spilt a drop of his own blood into her wound, a small cut on his hand providing it. The wound began to heal, if slowly, and the poison - he could sense it was gone by the time the wound had finally sealed itself up again. Amzela was no longer wounded or poisoned, but she was weak and would need rest. He turned to the boy.

"Who are you?"

He wiped his blade clean with a rag from the table next to which he was kneeling and resheated it, but kept an eye on the humanform demon now trying to crawl away from the scene on the ground. He was quickly joined by the woman, but she had her entire attention on him and paid no mind to those around her. She was probably healing him, but it mattered not. Even if he healed himself, he was out of the fight for a short time, anyway - hopefully long enough to get some answers. Regardless, though he'd resheathed the katana, Eratnu kept a firm grip on it and watched the unfolding scene just a short distance from him and the girl and boy. He had forgotten about the half-Dragon completely now. He had eyes only for what was before him.

Luciouses looked to Eratnu. "I'm Luciouses. Please, call me Luces for short. No one can pronounce the name. May I ask who you are." He turned back to Amzela. "Amza! Amza wake up." He started to growl a deep low growl as he saw Markus. Truely, Luciouses hadn't been touched by Sargraysa's mind-talk. He was just scared.

"My name is Eratnu Folliernes."

Eratnu glanced at the girl lying on the ground, then back to Luces.

"She'll be fine. She just needs rest. But I'd like some answers. First I reprimand this girl for stealing. Then she runs off and begins killing innocent men, women and children! Next I find out she's being controlled by another, and then that humanform demon over there tries to kill me. Now I've come back to rescue her - I think you said her name was Amzela, did you not? - and that wounded werewolf over there helps me. I want to know what's going on, or I'll report the whole lot of you to the guards. By now, there are probably a score of them on the way."

He was angry. The boy was scared and perhaps he should have been a bit more - graceful - with his words, but he was no longer in any mood to be polite. At least he'd been able to finish his dinner. But he had every right to be angry, what with everything that had happened over the last ten minutes or so. He wanted to know why his peace was being disturbed, why all these people were dead, why this girl - Amzela - was so important, what this boy's relation to her was, who the humanform demon and his female partner were...there were a number of different questions beyond those buzzing around in his mind like flies eating a carcass. He wasn't going to leave, or leave this matter alone, until he had his answers.

But then he noticed that the humanform demon was getting up. The woman was supporting him, but then she wasn't. He regained his strength quickly and picked up his sword once more. Eratnu quickly drew his own blade and stepped forward, putting himself between the boy and the girl and the girl's would-be captor. He would not let any of this go unpunished, nor would he allow anyone to leave until he knew what was going on. The demon came forward slowly, cautiously, and readied himself for a fight. Simple attacks and blocks and parries were struck at first, then more complicated ones. The demon was much warier this time, and the woman was apparently staying out of it. Why, Eratnu did not know or care. All he knew was that he could beat this demon, but it was difficult.

Eratnu did in fact find himself getting far fewer blows than he had previously. The man was only defending now, rarely attacking. Then the wolf came forward again. His charge was quickly ended, though, as he was kicked aside roughly by the demon. The werewolf went flying and hit his head hard on the corner of a building. He crashed to the ground in a crumpled heap, very badly wounded and unconscious. Then the intensity of the battle between the demon and Eratnu grew swiftly, until it was even fiercer than the previous battle. Finally, though, as Eratnu pushed the man back further and further and made him fight more and more desperately, the man withdrew to the woman, who attempted to heal him again. Eratnu stood ready for another attack, just in case...

"Is that so? It must be Sargraysa and Markus's work. What did I tell her. 'Don't do it. You ain't going to get much outta it' but no. She didn't listen. Still..." He sighed. "Amzela rescued me from that bombing." He perked up when he heard 'guard'. "Don't tell me you sent the guards. They'll rip us up ta pieces." Seeing Markus draw his bloody blade, he whipped out his dagger just in case.
What is he thinking? Markus is a semi-demon! If only Falcoon were here. He realized Falcoon wasn't here. "FALCOON! HELP US HERE!"

Arthur watched everything that was going on with great interest finally growing tired of this he brought forth his controlled dragon form. Where he looked Draconic but was human in stance but dragon in features and he said, to the demon woman and the others," By the Son of The Skies command stop this at once, Iam growing tired of this killing and fighting demon woman, and you semi-demon back away slowly, that Amezela girl must be healed and I'll be damned if I Arthur the Dragon slayer let anybody have her before she’s healed and if yall think you can get through a half-dragon just try, I will see this girl safely to a healer and make sure no harm comes to her from any of you". Arthur’s Dragon anger was roaring and so anybody who had been there would obviously realize his anger was making him see untruths for the semi-demon and the lupine were trying to help, yet Arthur’s Dragon anger did not let him see this.

A Draconic Dragon slayer? Interesting...something I've not heard of before, but then, there are indeed many strange things in Arda. I suppose this is just another one of them.

Eratnu pulled himself from the brief musings of his agless, intelligent Quendi mind and focused on the situation at hand. The demon backed off a bit, but only because of wariness Eratnu was certain. Especially when the demon sneered and nearly attacked again.

"This is pathetic. All this to protect one girl? Are the lot of you quite mad?"

The demon laughed maniacally, as though nothing in the world could phase him.

"I will have her one way or another. Perhaps not now, here, today. But I will have her. You'll see."

There was a malicious glint in his eyes as a wicked grin split his ugly face in half. The woman reappeared and clung to him. Then the pair disappeared, the demon with his smug look and the woman glaring - almost snarling, it seemed, and Eratnu wouldn't have been one bit surprised if she'd done so openly (he'd believe anything of that demoness) - as they faded from appearance. Eratnu quickly wiped his blade and resheated it, then turned to the girl on the ground. Sure enough, her wounds were almost completely healed now.

"As I said, she'll be fine. She just needs rest. And my Draconic friend, leave the werewolf in peace. He was trying to help. Luces, tend to the girl, as you seem to know her and well besides."

Eratnu moved over to the werewolf. He dropped several drops of blood into each of the werewolf's wounds to heal them more quickly; they were serious wounds. Apparently, the werewolf had a bit of his own innate healing, for the wounds had already begun to heal somewhat - but slowly, though, and Eratnu's blood sped up the healing process a great deal. He waited for several long seconds - almost two full minutes, in fact - until the werewolf finally stirred and awoke. He sat up, leaning against the building, and Eratnu began to question him. Then he left him where he lay to rest a bit before heading off. The werewolf watched the boy and girl with concern, obviously friends with them. Eratnu moved over to the half-Dragon.

"Calm yourself, friend, for the situation has ended. These three need medical attention, and - "

He was cut off as almost two dozen soldiers stormed into the square. Eratnu sighed as the Captain of the Guard had the werewolf hauled off for future destruction. "Foul creature. Not even proper beast. Monster!" he spat. Eratnu tried to intervene, but he was promptly silenced. Both of you are under arrest. You two! You will come to our base camp for medical attention and questioning. Get the girl," he ordered his men. "I want this area cleared! Everybody out, now! Clear out your shops and go home!"

But that was when things got really interesting. Eratnu did something he never would have thought to do previously - not in all his long years - but he had finally had enough. His blade was pressed to the Captain's throat before he realized what he was doing, but he couldn't cease his actions now. He was far beyond that point.

"You will release the werewolf. I will answer your questions, but you will give these two medical attention and then let all five of us go. We will stay together, or you and your men will fall where they stand."

His voice was deadly calm, but inside, he was quivering like a washed-up jellyfish in a massive earthquake.

Gods, Eratnu, what in Threnody's name are you doing?! Have you gone mad?! You're going against the lawful guardians of this place, and threatening them! You're out of your mind!

But there was nothing he could do about it now. He would either get his way and move on, or he would kill the guards and get his way. Either way, he had crossed a line he had never dared - never even thought - to cross before. This time, he had gone way too far, and he knew it.

But the Captain complied, since he didn't want to die. Men were weak like that. The guards were given orders to take them all to the base camp.

It was about twenty minutes later when they arrived. They spent most of the night there, and finally - just as the sun was rising again - all five of them were released. The werewolf made sure the girl and boy were all right, and then took off. The four of them were left outside the base camp on the other side of the port.

((Sorry for the godmodding...didn't want Arthur to end up killing half the people in the port in his anger, especially the werewolf since he was only trying to help.))

Amzela woke up staring into Luces's eyes. "Luciouses? Could that be you?" She stared at what she thought was a ghost. Wait, that can't be true. "You can't be Luciouses. You were killed when Sargraysa had that calling." Or could it be true.... She stood up and looked at her surroundings. There was the two men, which she forgot their names in the pass-out. There was also a werewolf, which she reconized was Luces's brother, but he turned and left already. Then, there was that Luciouses-who-was-killed. She ran up to the men. "Hello, men. Could you possibly tell me what happened when I passed out and could you tell me your names again?"

Arthur staredat the girl in awe of her mostly because she seemed to not rember him or either he was jsut shocked by what was going on. He said," As I said I am Arthur Pendragon, and by no means will I let any body who wnats to hurt you harm you, chilvary is my nature". He decided to caml down then and de transformed as his anger abated. He said," This has been an interesting day, its the first time I have ever not danced with death but seen it dance before me". He felt angery at himself now for letting those people die. In the end what coudl he have done anyway. He may have been able to save a few but not all.

Amzela knew how he felt. "You can't save averyone in the world from death but you can try. At last, you didn't mean to kill those people. It will soon come pass you, unless it would be children." Amzela stared down at her feet. "I use to be a massive killing machine. I met this orc who slaughtered a whole family and laughed 'bout it. I would have killed him now, but back then, I loved to kill myself. Back then, I had no emotion for people. I was like Sargraysa." She kept still, waiting for thier reaction.

Arthur looked at the girl if she had been anyone else Arthur would have taken her to the authorites or hung her himself. He was a man of right action and justice. He knew though that it was not her fault. He had met a few like this and felt the same pity he felt now for them. He said," We can only be who we are, no more no less, my father said that and he woudl know". He sighed and said," However this woman you speak of soudns exactly like an Evil Dragon though she is demon from what I could tell, Iam sorry for you, but at least you are now on the path to redemption, a path no one is beyond going on". He was firm beliver in that he knew because dragons were in a way the same and beign part of one he knew better than any.

Amzela looked at Eratnu. "Ah, yes. I wasn't controlled, but is what your father said is true? I'm not who I'm really am. I'm half controled by this demonic figure that murders anyone in his or her sight. I'm never on the path to redemption. I keep wandering off that path into the darkness. I was part demon myself once. I'm never safe, nor safe to anyone else. I can't fully control myself." Amzela sighed.

Arthur truly felt sorry for her. He said," No one is ever fully in control of themselves". He sighed he was trying to lighten things and was getting nowhere fast. He said," Though I can assure if you try and walk on the path of redemption eventually you will stay on it, you have my dragon honor on that". That was the best he had at the moment as he was tired usually he could give a nice lifting speech but now he was just tired.

Amzela saw the look in his eyes. "C'mon now Arthur. I think all we need is some rest." Amzela sighed.

Do they know what it's like to be controlled?

No, Amzela. Not at all.

Shut up, Markus.

Foul language again.

Amzela gazed at the rizing sun. She drew her sword again, looking at it's glinting blade. She knew she was a danger to everyone. "And I never got to sit down and have that crab..." she whispered. Her eyes widen. "Tetea! I can't believe I forgot! They were going to ambush her." She dashed in the direction of the docks.

Eratnu, too, was tired. The fighting had not really drained him, but he'd been sitting down for a meal and a smoke when the commotion had begun. Actually, he'd finished one and had been about to begin the other. He, too, felt that no one was beyond redemption. And most importantly of all, he knew just as well as Arthur how strong the Dragon could be. Sometimes his own anger got the better of him, though at least he wasn't part-Demon. That would have been too much even for him.

As he watched the two converse, he also looked at the rising sun. He really should get some sleep. He was smoking now, of course - making up for what he hadn't enjoyed earlier - and the pipe smoke curled up through the early morning air. It was cold, though he didn't really feel it. His breath came in small bursts of mist, but he didn't really notice. His pipe was beginning to cool, the embers dying, but he ignored it as he stepped forward to speak with the two.

"I, too, understand what happens when your anger gets the better of you. It can control you as surely as that Demoness was no doubt controlling you. It is a difficult thing, no doubt, but it is one that you must live with. All you can do is the best that you can. Wards might work. But the point is - "

Then she cut him off. She began running, sword in hand, from the grounds on which they now stood. He turned to Arthur. Half of him wanted to bring her to justice, while the other half of him wanted to let her go out of pity. That last was the Dragon part of his spirit, he knew.

"Should we leave her be? She might need help, but...I do not want to interfere."

That wasn't a complete lie, but it came close. He did want to follow her - but, at the same time, he didn't want to interfere. The matter was no business of his, and he was tired besides. Also, it hadn't really been any of her fault to begin with. He was torn as he looked at Arthur, not knowing precisely what he should do. It was odd, really; he had lived almost six millenia, yet he was torn and baffled by a girl he'd only met hours before. It wasn't the first time, either.

It seemed a number of things had been nagging and tearing at him of late. He'd prayed to the goddess Threnody, the Goddess of Balance, yet still he had no answers. He thought if he had some guidance, perhaps he would settle into the man he had been for so long once more. But if he could find no answers, would it destroy him? Would he change so completely that he would no longer recognize himself? How would such things affect his life overall? Should he still drive for justice, or was it driving him from the very path he had struggled to follow for over five thousand years? These and many other questions flushed through his mind like water in a waterfall, but he suppressed them for the time being. He would let Arthur decide.

Arthur shook his head and said," Bags why is it never easy". He then said to the man beside him," Well Iam going to make sure no more death happens come with me if you like, it seems I may get my chance to Dance with Death today after all". He then ran after the girl making sure to prepare himself mentlly for battle.

Eratnu sighed. Indeed, nothing was ever easy. He shouldn't have gotten involved. But then, how could he not get involved? First a thief, and then a mass murderer...he couldn't - wouldn't - let that slide, and so he had not. To watch women and children slaughtered in cold blood, with the murderer enjoying it...he shuddered. He forced himself to stop thinking about it, forced himself to stop thinking about the children's eyes staring up at him from beyond the grave, the women lying about like rag dolls, lifeless and abandoned...

Stop it! he told himself forcefully. He shook his head to clear it. Then he drew his katana and examined it carefully. It was clean, and he had sharpened it earlier that morning. It was ready for battle. Much as he wanted to deny it, he was ready for battle. He only hoped that battle would not come as he resheathed his katana at his belt and looked after the half-Dragon.

"Well, why not?" he muttered. He might not have been happy about it, but the girl would most likely need his help and he didn't want any more bloodshed. Besides that, he needed an adventure.

He blinked. Where had that come from? He'd always been content simply to be led by fate. Now he was openly seeking adventure?

Not so openly, he thought to himself dryly.

But once again, what choice did he have? Lives might be at stake, and he wouldn't stand by and watch them ended if he could aid in the prevention of their deaths. Finally, he decided to follow them. He shifted slightly, focusing, and felt the familiar shapeshifting of his back and clothes into the large, powerful, and very beautiful Draconic wings of a golden hue that allowed him to soar through the sky like the Dragon whose spirit was merged with his own - well, not quite like that, but certainly with a great amount of skill.

And pleasure, he thought to himself as he took wing. He was in the sky almost instantly. He caught a small thermal and used it to rise even higher into the sky, until most people would have seen only a speck below. Two specks, if he counted Arthur. He, however, had Elven eyes and could see every detail of their forms. He rose a bit higher and soared through the sky, watching his companion and looking ahead to see what he and the girl - Amzela - might be heading into.

Amzela picked up her feet more as she ran down the cold docks. There was a high pitch yell and a screaming voice of someone familiar.

I told you you should be more careful. But no! You step off the docks like some little princess!

That was Sargraysa. She spoke mind talk openly. Everyone around her could hear what she 'said'. There was a crack and a yelp.

"I told you, I'm not slacking! If it was the first thing I wouldn't do, it would not bother to slack! You would kill me for that!"

I will!
Someone drew a sword and started to slash the air. There was another sliding noise and there was a big clang. Amzela came around the corner just in time to see Markus and Sargraysa attacking Tetea rapidly as she tried to bite them. Tetea was a wolf right now. She snarled at them while a gentle stream of blood ran down her hind leg, making a little pool behind her. Tetea looked at Amzela and flashed back into a human. "Help, Amzela!" she yelled.

Amzela soon found her face-to-face with Markus, his sword inches away from her cheek. It slid to the right and found it's mark. The purple ooze slid into the cut that the blade made, making her slightly dizzy. The attacks came rapidly fast, one falling after another. Amzela saw Eratnu and Arthur round the corner as she was pressed back to the edge of the sea. Markus made a heavy blow and she went sprawling back into the water. She felt as if the world had been sucked away from her. She sprang back to the top and began to flounder. She couldn't swim.

There was no time for him to draw his katana and attempt a strike. He would have to resort to other means. He changed quickly, his wings folding as he dove and his body shifting. Eratnu's legs began to merge into one and his arms began melting into his sides as he fell. Everything seemed to darken and melt into a solid piece of flesh, even his clothes, and his body (especially his face) took on the scaled pattern of a snake. His eyes became narrower and his nose all but disappeared. His lips faded, and his body shrunk - and yet seemed to grow, as well. By the time he'd reached the man, the change had been complete. A long, darkgreen python forced the man to his knees with the weight of its fall, and then proceed to wrap itself around him. In seconds, the man was helpless and he dropped his sword. Eratnu squeezed - tighter and tighter the coils around the man became. He began to turn blue, and Eratnu could taste the fear on him with his flickering tongue as the man slowly suffocated. Bones could clearly be heard cracking and no sound came from the now very-blue man falling to his side. His eyes bulged, his tongue flopped, and his head lolled as his eyes took on a glossy look of death. When Eratnu finally released the man, it was reluctantly. The man was still alive - barely - but he would need healing in the next few minutes if he was to stay that way, let alone return to health.

Eratnu's python form moved slowly across the way. He tangled himself around Sargraysa's legs, and she tripped. She fell. She aimed a blow at the snake in fear, but ended up nearly severing her own leg. As it was, blood spurted from the wound as Eratnu immobilized her. He wanted this one alive, for he had every intention of questioning her, but he squeezed her nonetheless. Her bones broke and shattered as he did so, and she struggled. By the time he had her in full, she could only barely breathe. He awaited Eratnu's presence while he kept the woman, who was so busy trying to get in good breaths that she didn't even bother trying to scream. Apparently, she was panicking; otherwise she would have been long gone. She could have teleported away - she had done so before, it seemed. But she did not. Perhaps she was simply too scared. Whatever the reason, Eratnu held her - for now. He surveye the situation as he held her.

The wolf was wounded, but not badly. Arthur was running toward them, but he feared for Amzela; he could not see her. Where was she? He thought he smelled fear coming from her, but he couldn't tell exactly where she was and he didn't dare let the woman here up. If she could breathe, she could cast - and if she could cast, she could make all of their lives very difficult once again. He wasn't about to let that happen.

Suddenly, though, he felt a surge of power rushing through him. Pain ripped through his reptilian body, as though he were being ripped limb from limb. Suddenly, his body glowed orange and he shifted back into his Elven form. Then he was thrown roughly away, several hundred yards away, to splash into the water hard enough to shatter a thick stone wall. He blacked out almost instantly. When he came to, it would be weeks later and he would be hundreds of miles from where he'd been, carried out to sea and washed up on shore by the ocean tides...

[OUT]

Luces ranted out onto the docks. "Where in the world is AMZELA!" he yelled at the top of his lungs. After traveling around some more, he stopped in front of a serpent as big as his father. There in the middle, was a quickly-fading Sargraysa. "What the?" Sargraysa seemed to come back all to quickly. She grabbed this reptilian figure and unleashed her power through him. He seemed to gasp in fear, but it wasn't heard. The python quickly turned back into Eratnu. Sargraysa threw him out into the sea, where he seemed to disappear. Sargraysa crouched down slowly, fading into the darkness. As she left, Luces broke out of his shock. "Tetea! Amzela!" He yelled as he quickly helped Amzela on to the wooden planks. He dashed to Tetea and yelled his healing curse. "Never mind me," Tetea barked. "Help Amzela." Amzela, apperently, was out cold. "The poison," she whispered faintly. Luces hurried out of the docks as quickly as he could, and down the streets around the Drital Qu'ellar Pub. He disappeared from Eratnu and Arthur, never to return to the docks.

(Out for me and Amzela)