The sun shone brightly overhead as noonday came to the Sanctuary of Angels. It was warm today, but not exceedingly warm, and a light, cool breeze played upon the dress that Camille Larenya wore besides. It rustled the trees slightly, but only just enough for them to say hello the the visitors. Yes, there was great power here - a balance of nature and life, of sacrifice and rebirth. It was...wonderful. Camille could feel the life flowing through everything here, the natural power inherent in living things. The flowers, breeds of all kinds and many cross-bred flowers besides, filled the courtyard with beauty and a wonderful scent. It was consoling, in a way, and soothed the savage spirit that had sprung up in anger within Camille. Anger. It was a feeling she had known only a few times, and each time it had been a righteous feeling, a holy feeling almost, one that was a pure and purging and natural flame within her. She felt that flame now, as anger boiled up within her and crushed the hatred, and the soothing voices of her long-dead parents quelled both. Now she was ready. Now she was truly ready. She was calm, collected - and now she was ready to face whatever would come, both mentally and emotionally.

She picked a few fruits from one of the trees - fresh pairs, delicious and sweet in their ripened life - and sat down underneath the shade of a tall oak tree. She crossed her legs, revealing slender lower legs with pure-white boots to match her dress and belt.

"So, Hippogryph. I did not catch your name. Mine is Camille."

She offered a friendly smile to him, wondering if he, too, would partake of the trees' life. Everything was a cycle of life, death, and rebirth, after all. New fruits would blossom, and the tree would be refreshed and renewed. That was nature at its very core, the very essence of life.

The Hippogryph felt waves of emotion wash over him, he read Camilles' expressions, and felt that any danger had for the moment passed. He perceived that she had ,rooted herself, tree-like, in the consolation of her ancestors, and in the living essence of the earth. But there was still wrath inside her, like the pent up rage of a flood. But she was conscious of it, and sought to master it.

"I am Terebenior. Which used to mean Man of Clouds. But the tongue in which that name is spoken has been forgotten, even by your Atani kindred. I am the last of the Thorondun, the Eagles of the West, which was the arrogant name we took for ourselves. We who were bred to weild holy combat with the dark-lord. But one by one we all fell to a terrible illness. A sickness of the soul. In our arrogance, we sought to escape our death. I am the last of my race not to have become a wraith, though I have, before any semblance of wisdom grew within me, produced a wraith of my own, seeking to divide myself from my own dark-side."

Terebenior confessed this, and looked closely at the ladys' expression. "I am only guessing, and ther is no way I can prove my suspicion. But I beleive I may have been drawn to you, because my own wraith has touched upon your life." He remained where he was, crouched onto his haunches, with his great hooves shining darkly. He awaited the ladys' reaction.

Man of Clouds. An interesting name, and a fitting one, considering the fact that the man before Camille was a Hippogryph. When he mentioned the word Atani, however, she had to correct him. For she did speak Atani, certainly, but Uruloki was her native language.

"Oh, I am no Elf. I am Uruloki Fii, actually. A White Dragon."

She, too, said her piece tentatively. Many feared Dragons, hated them even, saw them as the harbringers of destruction and hoarders of power and material wealth. In truth, for most at least - like Camille, for example - it was exactly the opposite. Camille knew well of destruction and power, yet she cared nothing for the latter and strongly disliked the former. She saw no reason to amass great wealth when it could be taken so easily. To guard one's wealth was to make oneself greedy, distrustful, spiteful, jealous. That was no way to live. She had cared only for her husband.

Terebenior's was a sad story indeed, and it reminded her of her parents'. How their people had slowly lost the will to live as the last of the Dragon Lords passed on. How they had watched so many of their kind fall prey to sadness and despair, eventually taking their own lives only to become Wraiths, or Banshees, or merely wandering Ghosts. So many now were lost. Camille doubted there were any Draconic Quendi, the race from which she had been born, left in the world. If there were, they were so few and far between that she seriously doubted she would ever meet any more.

Her eyes clouded with sadness, grief, loss, and anger once more as she listened to the Hippogryph's tale, though. She soon found herself speaking, almost against her will, half without realizing it, and all too freely.

"Yes. I, too, know of pain and loss. My husband lies dead now, a month gone. He still lives to me, and I keep forgetting that I will never see him again. And then the pain is fresh and new. It was a Wraith that killed him, and a Mage that released that Wraith. A powerful Wraith. I destroyed it...but my husband...he was not so lucky."

Her eyes began to grow wet once more, and it was all too clear from her tear-stained cheeks that she had been crying all morning, weeping for her lost husband, the ache in her broken heart forming a black hole, an empty hole...one that mere talk could not fill. A single tear slid down her cheek, and then another on her other cheek. She couldn't help it.

Terebenior averted his eyes as fresh tears welled upon the ladys' lovely face. He could not conceal his tumult of intense emotions. She had destroyed the wraith that had touched her! Perhaps Terebenior had it all wrong.

The lady was a dragon! Terebenior had seen them, but only from afar, for his kind had little or no effectiveness in combat with them; perhaps it was she that would end up, in truth, end up saving him.

Terebenior leant close to the lady. "Lady, the wizard you spoke of. Is he also destroyed? I know the taint of my wraith, it has been near you, and recently. I fear that this same wizard may have gained control, in addition to that which you have destroyed, of my wraith."

He looked at the lady with much of his desperacy revealed in his eyes and demeanour. His wings had unseated themselves from where they rested against his back, as if he might suddenly take flight, again betraying his distress. "But I have finished running lady. And if I can take back my mistake, and reclaim that essence of myself from which the wraith was made, I hope to reclaim the holiness of my kind, before our arrogance squandered that gift. Then I will be complete, and a holy warrior once more. And I will not need to fear shame in these hallowed grounds, like a thief amongst lords."

At first, Camille was a bit surprised by the Hippogryph's obvious distress. It was clear to her, however, that this Hippogryph was desperate not for revenge, which Camille sought, but a peace to come into his mind and spirit. She would help him, if she could, for no mortal or immortal being should feel such constant turmoil as one without a soul did. From the sound of things, Terebenior had given up his soul to get rid of the evil within himself - only to sacrifice something far greater in return: the holy truth and light that made him him.

She smiled a small, sad smile both of regret and of sympathy. She brushed the tears from her cheeks, drawing strength as she had so many times before from her faith in the Goddess of Life and the solemn belief that life must go on, even (and perhaps especially) when it was most painful. When next Camille spoke, her voice was much stronger than it had been, and yet it was still the soft silk of compassion and kindness that it had always been.

"No, he lives still. But I will help you if you wish, Terebenior. Perhaps in this, as a matter of fact, we can help one another. Join me in my quest, and together we shall seek the peace that will help us both to move on in a much happier life. What do you say, my Hippogryph friend? Will you join me?"

If the Hippogryph chose not to, she would understand. Everyone had to battle their own inner demons, whether with someone else or alone. It was battling them with someone else, though, that made the them stronger and the battle easier. Together, friends could do almost anything they could imagine. Alone, they had no one to help guide them on their journy through life. Only with friends could one's life be truly fulfilling.

Terebenior bowed his head. The lady spoke of seeking peace, and that terrified him, because he thought even as she said that she intended fully to hunt down this wizard and destroy him. Holy wrath was something Terebenior had been incapable of in an age.

"Lady I will follow you to the end of the earth, not least of all because before the end my wraith will be drawn to you, and only then can I hope to regain what I have squandered. But because you will need someone who will look after you. Someone to do what your own hands are too busy to do, be it forage for the days meal. That I can do. I swear it to you lady, by your request I will go to the end of the earth, though it takes me an Age, to bring you back you handkerchief. I am a hippogryph, you will begin to understand why we were made, and the purposes we, and especially we, may serve, least of all of which is our terrible presence on the field of battle."

Terebenior perceived that above all the lady desired a friend; and he hoped that with time, and when he had come to understand more of the lady, and of her nature, and purpose, he could fulfill that role. But he hoped she would not tire of him, in his dire need to serve some one. To place someone before himself. To begin to rectify the damage that ancient arrogance had done.

The Santuary was peaceful as citizens went about their work and chores. Children played around the city as their parents went shopping. A woman walked with two children by her, a boy who looked like her ageing eight years was on the right and a girl the age of four on the left clinging to her dress. The woman held a basket as she walked from shop to shop buying, and sometimes giving items to merchants as she went along on her daily chores. The boy walked quietly helping to keep his sister in check as their mother bartered with the sellers of items.

As she left a stall the girl returned to her position on her mothers side and held her dress and sucked on her free thumb. The small girl's blue eyes were wide as she watched those around her not really certian of anything. As they were walking some Angel and human children ran by and beckoned them to follow. "Can we mother? Please?" her son begged. The woman considered this for a moment, "All right, but be mindful of your sister, and do not stray far. Stay within calling distance of me, and do not leave the area without me." she commanded. Nodding the boy smiled and grabbed his sister's hand, "Let's go Nichelle. Come on, we are going to play" he said guiding his sister by the hand as she smiled and followed after him.

Sighing once more the mother returned to her chores and then walked over to watch her children play. She would not call them to her yet, it was still some time before they needed to leave for their home once more and she knew they would not be wanting to leave so soon. She found a shady spot near a tree where a couple was talking. "Hello" she said moving past them and went a short distance away from them so not to disturb them. An angel soon saw her and called out, "Lady Ruth, it is good to see you once again. How are your children?" he asked. She recognized him and smiled, "Please stop calling me 'lady" Ruth. Its just Ruth now, I left the Guard, remember?" she asked. For the mother, whose name was Ruth, had once been apart of the Guard of The Santuary. But one day she had found love and married. And after that, left the Guard to become a mother of the children she was with. The Angel laughed, he enjoyed to tease her like that, she needed the smiles as much as possible, "I know. So how are the little ones today? Nichelle finally get over her fever?" Ruth nodded. "Yes, finally...The alchemist was very good in making the potion to help lower her temperature. By the way..." she said turning to him "I heard from Calianos the other day..." the Angel looked surprised, Calianos was an elf who left the Santuary of Angels to go to Lomedor to be with his family and work on the Lomedor Guard. "What did ol' point ears have to say?" he asked calling the elf by his nickname. Her features grew serious. "He was talking about the weather and such. But it seems that four members of the guard have vanished. All have not been seen since last week, two elves, a half-elf and a half dragon. None havebeen found, they fear the worst." she said. The angel nodded, "It seems the City of Elves has upgraded its defence as well. But it is just a coincidence, the war has everyone on edge, I bet those four ran off to help inthe efforts to save the Moon. he said but Ruth shook her head, "Call it what you want, but I do not like it. As James would say, 'If coincedences were legal we would not need the Guard' You may be right but I just don't know." The angel paused at this and they remained quiet in their thoughts. The angel then turned to her and smiled, "Well, Ruth...Your children are growing up fast. I am sure James would have been proud." he said and left.

Her mind drifted to the memory of her husband. They had been in the same Company and had even fought together, but when they married he too did not want to be in the danger of the force after his son was born and took up the calmer lifestyle of a trainer to the new cadets who wished to protect the city. He, however, died at a young age never to meet the daughter she was carrying at the time, whose image she modled. He did not die of wounds but of a plague that had taken her mother and father as well. Right now, all she had were her children, and she knew that nothing would take them from her. Even if Raku turned them both she would always welcome them into her home. She supposed it was the curse of a mothers heart that made her feel so much for those little ones who brought tears and joy to her eyes. "I am sure he would be...Oh James, if only you could see them now...To know how much they ask about you each night I put them to bed." she whispered closing her eyes to stop the tears from flowing.

The Hippogryph stood, and his wings furled like a grey cloud behind his shoulders. He looked out over the orchard-like greensward. He was able-owl-like to turn his head almost backwards in each direction, his crest of grey feathers pricking up in curiosity.

Everywhere he looked were angels, and holy creatures. Even the trees breathed balance and order, as perhaps the whole of the earth had done before the corruption was begun. Still, Terebenior was not wholly comfortable in this place. He was a being of the wild. The hippogryphs were bred as sentinels, and could be left alone in the most remote stretches of the world indefinately, guarding their post. Gathering only when summoned to war, or in service of their masters.

There were humans too, albeit illumined with the quality of the place. Their children ran amongst those of the angels, capable, for that brief season of their lives, of similar feats of strength. Emotions washed over Terebenior; for everyone carried with them their ghosts of grief, or their deep roots of shame. He cocked his head, appearing remarkably eagle-like despite his human face and torso, for a moment.

He perceived the emotions of a woman that had sat nearby, as she watched her children. He would never sire an heir, he thought, as he traced her sight to where her strapping son was coaxing his little sister along to play.

He watched as a glorious Guardian Angel, in full regalia, approached her with great deferrance in his demeanour, and he spoke to her, calling her Lady. Terebenior caught Camilles' eyes, and nodded in their direction as they spoke. She appeared to have been one of the Guard, and it was safe to assume, a captain amongst them.

It was remarkable how much more like an eagle Hippogryphs sometimes seemed. So proud and powerful, so hard and steadfast, like a rock watching all lush water and life before and around it dry up and transform into the dust and sands of an endless desert - like Anfauglir, for example. Once, it had been a great ocean. Now it was nothing more than a desert. Angband, too, had formed during this depression of the waters and life in Anfauglir. It had once been a great temple, an enormous city of Merfolk and Water Nymphs, but now it was a haven for only the most unholy of beasts and beings. It was truly sad, actually. But then Terebenior seemed to be noticing something. Out of the corner of her eye, Camille also noticed. She nodded ever-so-slightly, completely imperceptible to anyone that wasn't watching, and busied herself with supposedly straightening her dress and adjusting her position on the ground. The conversation ended quickly, and she stood as though nothing had happened. She straightened her dress once more, and then turned to Terebenior casually. She spoke in a low voice, though.

"Sounds as though I'm not the only one with sorrows to weigh me down," she said in a very grim tone of her otherwise lovely and quite harmonious voice. "Perhaps we should look into this."

Indeed, it might lead her to the Mage she now fully intended to hunt down and kill. Once she had done that, his evil would be ended and she could finally begin to move on in peace. She would cleanse her soul as often as she could with prayer, of course, but it would be finally done when that man was dead and she could grieve with an open heart and an empty mind. Then, finally, she could lay her husband to rest at last.

As Kiesu entered the Sanctuary ground this time he did not go to the grave. But he did plan on going there later. Instead he headed to the Sanctuary itself and entered through its doors. Everybody watched him as he entered. They watched him cloasley for how he looked. He looked as though he was evil but could sense a feeling of calm. He sat down on the floor and started praying for his mother's soul.

(OOC I will be taking Terebeniors' place while he is away. We both live in NZ, we both write as "hippogryphs", pardon the name change, though, as I will be Dunimir)

The hippogryph stood at the ladys' words, 'We should look into this.' and made as of to walk up to her. "I will go and her her what she knows." He said, with a tilt of his head, as if asking if Camille thought it was wise.

((That's fine. And I have a number of different alts, just so you know - Jaxon Creed, Camille Larenya, Relfgar Morllek, and Valsir Naiid are all mine and are a part of this plot. :) ))

The day was growing steadily warmer as the sun rose ever-higher into the otherwise beautiful sky, blue as a baby's eyes and only sparsely dotted with small, white, puffy clouds. A light breeze began to pick up, but it did little to slow the heating of the day. By mid-afternoon, it would be sweltering. Such was the way of the summer months. Camille glanced toward the sky and sighed. She gave another tiny, almost imperceptible nod, appearing as though she was merely examining the sky with distaste. She lowered her eyes once more to the Hippogryph before her. She was as tall as he - probably one of the few that was - and so their eyes met on an equal level, like twin marbles on an even stone floor sitting parallel to one another. The twist of her mouth was equally difficult to notice unless you were looking for it, yet she knew that Terebenior's eyes would catch it all too easily. He was a Hippogryph, after all. Horses and eagles alike were no match for him, nor were humans, for he was a mix of all. He was a hybrid, a creature long gone from the world - the last of his kind, Camille would place a heavy wager upon that if she were a betting woman. She had not seen another Hippogryph for a very, very long time, after all. He was the first in over six hundred years, and the last she'd seen had been killed on the battlefield. But back to the situation at hand, she mouthed her next words silently so that only he would notice that she had said anything at all, let alone realize what it was she was trying to tell him: Casual.

The message was perfectly clear, of course. They didn't want to draw attention to themselves. No offense to Terebenior, but he wasn't exactly the most normal sight around. That alone would be enough to arouse suspicion, but if Terebenior wasn't careful, it would be more than a little suspicion that was raised. It would have been better if Camille were to do it, of course, but Terebenior had volunteered and so she would trust him with the task. Casual. Just someone inquiring about gossip, nothing more.

Dunimir walked forwards, looking for all the world like a sunday-gent out for a stroll; the sheer relaxation of his poise making him seem perfectly in place. He held his wings slightly unfurled, as if enjoying the draught of the wind through them, and he made his way in this fashion directly to the woman to whom the guardian angel had been speaking. To the casual onlooker, as he delved into the small pouch belted at the side of his kilt, that he was just a visitor, if a strange one, asking for directions from a map.

The map he had taken out he made a great show of struggling with as it flapped in the wind, and that he had to unfurl his wings as a wind shelter. This done he pointed at the map, looking about them as they spoke, at this landmark and that, and cheerfully sharing an awkward joke as between complete strangers.

In the mean time his hands flashed the guestures of the holy sign language. {can you interpret the ancient hand-signs?} He looked over at the cathedral, as if she had given him some remark in relation to it. {If you have heard news from Lomedor, the reach of your ears must be far indeed. We, my lady and I, have dire need of good information. The days darken, and not all of the battles of the war are fought through steel and bloodshed. What is your name? Ruth? I am Dunimir. We will have much need of council, if you dare.}

Dunimir laughed easily, rolling the considerable bulk of his shoulders, speaking aloud for any that might be trying to overhear all the while. "Yes, I have come to re-train myself in my long unused martial-arts amongst the angels, if they will have me. I have become rusty and lethargic, I hope their fire can burn the weight of the years from me." He shook Ruths' hand. {Name a place we can meet in safety, and a time, and I will be there.} He signed.

Ruth kept a keen and watchful eye on her children as they played, making sure they stayed safe and within distance of her call. The children were roused up in a merry game of Tag with Nichelle as "it" speed walking reaching for an Angelic girl who moved in a slow motion with her hands extended towards the toddler cheering for her to hurry and get closer, no doubt Curtis had somehow convinced the elder children to allow her to play and for them to move at her speeds. Finally the girl had slowed down enough to where Nichelle could touch her. The small toddler "gave her five" and squeeled happily as the Angel congradulated the small child on tagging her then told her to run as she announced she was the new "it", the game quickly picked up the pace once more as the children scrambled to get away from her, laughing and giggling as she tagged an elvish boy.

She smiled as she watched the promised future generation as they played, suddenly a movement caught her eye. She looked and saw the strangest creature walk towards her. It seemed both majestic and dangerous, A hippogryph? I thought they were only storybook characters she thought as she watched him approch her fumbling with a map. Apparently he was lost for he held the map out to her using a wing to block the wind. He made a quick joke about being lost but her eyes rested on the gestures of his hands, movements she had not seen in years but well understood. He asked her if she understood the gestures, she gave a sharp glance up at her children, Curtis was now "it'' and was chasing his sister playfully. Turning back to the hippogryph her features turned serious as she nodded. She then signed back {what do you need from me?} she asked then watched as he spoke of needing information and introduced himself as Dunimir. She glanced at the woman he was with as he joked again. She took his hand in a friendly shake as he gestured for her to name a time and place. Giving a quick look around she took the map from him and then took a pen from her basket and drew a small circle around one of the houses on the map, not far from their current location. She handed it back to him and leaned close so he could hear her whisper. "That is the location of my home, meet me there with your friend in a half-hour. We can talk there'' she said then nodded to him and turned to the feild 'Curtis, Nichelle. Time to go little ones''

The two children groaned and ran towards her ready to go home. She nodded to him one last time then the trio went down the road to the house. It was not plain but it was not fancy either. The house was a cream color with a newly patched roof. She entered and the children went off to play sibling games. She sat down on a chair and looked at a sheild on the wall, she wondered why fate had brought her back to her old life once more. She sighed and began to cook a stew for dinner, making extra for her supposed guests who were due to arrive in a few minuets. James, what have I gotten into? she wondered

Dunimir nodded gratefully to Ruth and returned to Lady Camille. The sun, high overhead, cast an even light throughout the garden, and great shining shafts of light fell through the branches of the tree, and upon the lady. Her wise face, and he only just realised how very tall she was, looked intently into his.
"Lady, she must have been a great captain amongst the army. She knows much, and can get information. She will be able to help in what ever plans we slowly make. Her reach goes far, to Lomedor at least. She has shown me the whereabouts of her home, and says we can meet her there in as little as half an hour."

Dunimirs' body language was completely deferent. He hoped he was helping the lady, and not rushing her plans. Perhaps it was going to his head a bit, having someone to do for again, and a purpose which was not wholly self-concerned to work towards.

He concealed any trace of his inner urgency or excitement, and gave the lady time to think. He realised that they mustn't rush. That only good planning would bring them to success.

As Camille waited, she stepped over to a particularly lush bush filled with various colours of roses. She admired them with a smile. Her husband had always brought her roses when he could, which wasn't often - but he always brought more than enough. Way more. It made her laugh, and it made her happy. But then, just her presence made her happy. Her smile faded. Now he was gone. Would she ever be truly happy again? She smelled one of the roses and smiled sadly. She couldn't help but pick the rose. She didn't think Lothlomendil would mind her adding a bit of life to her own, considering that which had been so cruelly snuffed out. As she fixed the rose to her dress underneath the neck of it, on the right side, she realized another tear had made its way down her face. She brushed the tear away.

As Terebenior came back to her, she straightened once more. By the time she'd turned to him, her face had made itself like stone, cold and hard and unforgiving. There was business to attend to, dangerous business, and she meant to complete it - whatever the cost. She nodded at his words. It was time to meet this woman, then. She said as much to the Hippogryph, and then said, "Show this woman's home, then, and we will talk to her. I want to know what she know. The more quickly I track down this Mage, the more quickly I can be done with this nasty business. I have a deep sense of honour, Terebenior, and part of that moral code is avenging the deaths of those I love. I loved my husband, and I must avenge his death. It is the fault of this Mage that my husband is dead, and he will pay the price dearly. Please, lead the way."

There was a cold tone to her voice, almost one of hatred yet somehow not quite reaching it. That was perhaps because there was also a note of desperation, and one of determination, mixed into her voice as well.

((Ruth, how do you want to do this? Do you want to do this in the same topic, or do you want to start another one and PM us each the link? Oh, and only PM Dunimir and myself if that's the case, since Terebenior apparently can't get onto the computer at present.))