Tracyn stepped into the bar, an uncharacteristic flare of anger building up in him. The thugs who took his sister, who could very well be dead, were in this city. His hateful gaze burning through the numbers. He was told they were here, he knew they were here. He would be getting his word in with them.

There, he spotted them. He moved through the crowd, some drunks, or people who had no business being here. He reached the kidnapper, grabbing him by the collar. "You think you're tough huh?" He growled ramming him into the wall. "Where is my sister?" The man was stunned, but regained his senses, a grin forming upon his lips. "Its you, I remember." He laughed, causing Tracyn to apply even more force to his manhandling. Only a few people in the bar payed any mind to them, these things happened all the time. "You are two days too late," He laughed, "She broke, no fun anymore," Tracyn brought his fist back slamming it into the thug's face, "What did you do to her!?" The thug spat, a bloody tooth falling out, he must still think he was in the clear. "We disposed of her, had fun with it too. Ever seen a girl get to watch herself get gutted and then slitted? Its quite-" Tracyn pound his fist into the mans face, dead on. There was a wet crack as the nose broke into a bloody mess. "Ever watch yourself face the same?! Well you are about to find out!" Tracyn roared into his face, dragging the now terrified man out of the bar.

Tracyn dropped the man onto the dirt, in a dark alley of course. He unsheathed his sword, its blade gleaming in vengeance. Tracyn was all blood lust now, his mind was hardly thinking, all instinct. He hacked at the man's back, never going deep enough to kill. After taking his fill of that kind of retribution, he kicked the man over. He brought his blade through the man's midsection, cutting an incision over his intestines. "How do you like that?" his words were droned out by the man's wailing. He flicked his sword, and impaled it through the kidnaper's, the murder's, throat.

He looked at the blood on the blade, staring at it for a while before it finally dawned on him. He gasped, dropping the sword, and looked at the disfigured corpse, "What-what have I done," He stumbled back, hands shaking. "All...in the name...of vengeance..."

Ayaker really had nothing to do at the moment, he had got caught by a guard attempting to pick someone's pocket, and had barely escaped. He had decided rather then risk getting caught a second time in one day and getting thrown in jail, he would take the day off and take a stroll through the less traveled backstreets of the town. He walked slowly down the street behind the pub whistling to himself a tune a street performer had been singing..

Good thing that there are more thieves in this city then grains of sand in the desert, or I may have to be careful about where I go. It should blow over by tommorow.

Ayaker stopped his steps, and took a few seconds to take in the smell that hung pungent in the air. It wasn't excrement or vomit, no, he knew that smell too well, for it lingered with him for the last 5 years. It was a strong copper scent, he sniffed again, and slowly began walking forward, as he approached an ally, he got a chilling sense in his bones.

He turned, and saw it, there was a man, a man who didn't seem like the sinister type, but this initial appearance was contradicted by the mutilated corpse laying at his feet. Ayaker wasn't scared, in fact he was more curious then anything.

"Hey!" he said slowly approaching the man. "Unpaid debt, or something more?" He unsheathed his dagger and laid it on the ground showing that he intended no harm.

Tracyn turned slowly, anxiety written all over his face. His hands shook uncontrollably, he was terrified by what he had done. Yet somewhere, behind all of the self control, he had liked it. The primal instinct that reveled in it, in killing. Tracyn stumbled forward, "I-I-I didn't mean to-" He stared at his hands, "Couldn't st-stop..." He shuddered, almost falling to his knees.

Ayaker looked at the man, studying him, looked at the look in his eyes, what it meant, saw that this man was confused.

Ayaker looked at the corpse that lay disfigured and mutilated, a gruesome site, the air was beginning to reek of death, not just blood, but of other smells which come with death. He looked back to Tracyn, and concluded that this did not at all look like an evil man. What had this corpse done to him to provoke such wrath?

"Why did you kill him? Was it for the pure joy of the kill? I don't see you as an evil man , although appearances may lie, body language usually doesn't. Perhaps it's none of my business, but you seem distrought, and perhaps talking can prevent any more blood from spilling on that blade. Or...if your really evil, then why care? You should enjoy the blood lust. What path do you walk?"

He stared at the blood that was slowly trailing from the alleyway, "I was just looking for my sister..." His breathing was shallow and quick, his sister was gone and he had acted in vengeance, a blood lusty vengeance. He shook his head, "How could they kill her," He growled, the anger seeping back in, "He killed her, he did. I returned the favor!" He turned back towards the corpse, glaring with such an intensity it wouldn't be surprising if it began to burn the body.

Ayaker nodded, understanding how Tracyn must feel, he had felt it himself at one point, and would of acted on it if he were able to. He put a hand on Tracyn's shoulder.

"Hey, I know how you feel, the bloodlust, the hatred. When I was 12, I found my mother in a puddle of blood with a knife through her in a back alley, if I ever found who did that to her, to this day, they'd end up with a slit throat and gouged out eyes..."

In some way Ayaker was thankful that he had never met his mother's killer, for all though vengeance would be sweet, murder wasn't something he'd want to be responsible for, and he didn't know if he would be able to handle it.

"No matter what your thinking, you need to get rid of this body before someone else comes and sees it, the next person isn't so likely to be so calm and accepting."

Tracyn nodded, turning back to the body. He quietly stepped forward, then kneeled down next to the corpse. He began to slowly drag the body out of the alley, the streak of blood forming after. He shuddered, working subconciously as all upper brain functions seemed to shut down. He neared a dark churning channel, and dropped the body into its grimy depths.

Ayaker followed Tracyn, he didn't know quite why, he probably should of just left, but something about this sitiuation intrigued him. Maybe it was the dilemma that Tracyn faced, and he was just interested in the outcome. Maybe he was just fascinated by the macabre....not likely. He was sure it was because of what had happened to his mother, and he felt like he needed to know what was going on inside Tracyn's head. That was why this unfamiliar stranger had picked up a quiet follower.

The murder scene itself brought memories of his mother laying mutilated in an alley very much like this one, but after hearing what few fragments Tracyn had muttered, he was contemplating whether this victim was not like his mother, but like the man who Ayaker would have killed had he got his hands on him.

As Tracyn dumped the body in the channel, Ayaker couldn't help but shudder at the thought that that might of been how his mother was disposed ofm, he wouldn't put it past the city guards, quietly dispose of a body for the "Greater good" of the community, so it wouldnt encourage more violence. Maybe that's what these people needed, more exposure to this kind of thing, maybe then senseless violence wouldn't be so rampant.

Ayaker approached Tracyn, and stood there quiet for a while, until he felt it was apropriate to speak.
"Hey....Im sorry for your loss...." he said. "I know how you must feel, my mother died when I was younger, and I was the one to discover the body, I don't know if it's for the better or worse that you didn't see the body, because I don't know how I'd feel in the other situation. Probably though, my mothers memory could remain whole and good, other then mutilated and bloody."\


(ooc: WOOT! my first 300 word post.)

OOC: Congrats!

IC: Lalandria wandered down the streets of Lomedor, as usual. She had a coin or two in her pockets and was quite happy how the past several days had gone by. Her step was light and a small smile rested upon her lips. Who knew? Perhaps she might just be able to get a better dress one day. She could feel her neat stitches running down the three long tears that had been put in there by a bloody vampire, with his all too fantastic skills. The stitches rubbed against her still sensitive scars that had been left there. She felt like singing but with held the urge, not wanting to be noticed in these streets. She knew better than to do that.

She was relaxed, where most would have been creeping around with their eyes twitching everywhere, until she heard the screams and begging. It wasn't odd to hear it in this area but Lalandria moved to stay clear. The screaming did eventually stop, and Lalandria really didn't feel like going the long way around. She followed her usual way down to Drital Qu'eller Pub. It was actually really quite peaceful after the murdering of someone that she had heard. That, of course, made Dria nervous. She made herself move silently in the shadows.

Her eyes were caught by the streak of blood leading down an alley. A body might have been left and that meant that maybe no one else had looted it. Dria smiled slightly to herself at the thought of another small increase in her fortune. She listened carefully but heard nothing but whispers. She followed the alley carefully, ready to run at any sign of trouble. Her eyes constantly searched the night for a sign of movement anything. She froze; ready to leap away when a thin mongrel walked past the opening of another alleyway, its eyes lightly glinting in the moonlight.

Lalandria made herself relax her muscles and continue on. As she moved closer she could hear the conversation better, picking up words here or there. Sorry? Had she heard that right? That was not something she often heard. Her curiosity peaked to a dangerous level and Lalandria knew it. She pushed it away knowing she should leave, but she moved on anyway, some part of her believing she could get away if needed. With out thinking she checked the knives under her sleeves and finally reached the edge of the alley, the canal's current muffling the voices, having made her think they were farther than she thought.

She made a quick look past the corner and almost choked when she saw who was there. What was the stable hand doing here? What was his name again? Tracyn, she remembered, as well as a small nagging feeling of a sister having to do with something. Lalandria could memorize songs by the billions because they had rhythm and a tune but names and what not had always been a difficulty for her.

The man standing near him looked like a thief and Lalandria didn't understand why Tracyn was talking to him. With that train of thought came another leading to the corpse. Where was the corpse, she wondered glancing around the small clearing before the canal. The path of blood showed her into the canal itself. What a waste, she thought mentally sighing.

She was about to move away when the thought that perhaps the other man was trying to rob Tracyn entered her mind. With another mental sigh, Lalandria thought she should probably go check, feeling that for some reason, Tracyn was a bit of her responsibility. As she stepped out into the moon light mantled clearing another thought entered her mind and she voiced it. Her hair flashed almost silver in the moonlight rather than its usual streaks of gold, red fire.

"Which one of you boys killed the man, unless it was both of you?" Lalandria asked, her brow arched questioningly. She looked friendly and relaxed, but a roof was near her reach, ready to lift her to safety if necessary.

Tracyn cast his gaze down in despair. He hadn't expected her arival. "What a suprise," he mumbled. He didn't want to say it or think of it again but he had to. She told him to stay clear, if he had just listened. He looked back into the canal, how far could a body travel down in its swirling depths? He looked back at Lalandria with guilt drawn about his face.

Tracyn: As you're standing there, you notice a group of 15 men walking towards you. They are big, burly men with Studded Leather Armor and Longswords. The leader of the group carries a rather nasty-looking Blade-Tipped Flail. Scars adorn thier bodies, marking them as experienced fighters.

One of them calls to you, "Hey, you! You think we're gonna let you get away with that? We protect our own, and you are about the experience pain like you ain't never known!"

Seems like they're friends with the man you've just killed. Better think fast.

OOC to All: You may now continue with the topic. I may check in later. You do not have to wait for me to post before posting again. These men are rough-and-tumble fighters, and should not be too easily defeated.

Ayaker felt a grim feeling as he saw the men approaching them. He was sure they were going to either kill them or heavily wound them. He drew his dagger out of his pocket holding it out in front of him towards the men. He felt the sweat dripping down his face, his muscles feeling weak as if he was about to give a speech or go on stage to sing, and his mind racing with fears and indecision.

He had to make a choice, he could obviously run away, hop the rooftop and get out of there as fast as he could...But he couldn't leave Tracyn and Lalandria to fend for themselves, he may of been a thief, maybe somewhat of a coward, but he wasn't that much of scum that he could leave two innocent people to die, he would fight with them, even if he barely knew them.

Ha...A noble thief.Look at me. What's this world coming to, aren't I supposed to be the scum of the streets? Maybe that's what I'm Supposed to be, but that doesn't mean I have to act like it.

He came back to his senses as the men got even closer, he had a decision to make...There was no way he could just win this fight by just using his dagger, he had to blow his cover, it was better then dying afterall.

Ayaker closed his eyes and a red light enshrouded him, and in an instant, he had assumed his true form. His Horns grew and popped the hat he always wore off of his head, his Tail shot out the top of the back of his pants and lay behind him, and where his shoulderblades had been in human form, two small red wings shot forth. He belched, and a whisp of flame shot out of his mouth. He had no time to find out if his companions cared, this was a fight for survival.
"Hey! It's one of those halfbreed freaks! Let's tear his wings off and feed 'em to him." shouted one of the men. Ayaker took his battle stance, feet spread apart, knees slightly bent, and dagger held out in front of him. "We've got to make it out of this alive!." Ayaker said to his companions. " I will fight with you until every last one of these thugs is dead!"

Tracyn turned around, shocked by the sudden apperance. He stumbled back a few paces, not again. He jumped to the side as a flail hacked through the air where he once was. The flail came back around, and due to Tracyn never having experience against flails he didn't realize the return attack till it was too late. He blades slicing across his chest. He fell backwards, stunned more than hurt. He stared in supprise at the blood that was seeping out of his chest. Blood, it was the same substance that he saw seep from the thug. He shuddered, his hand edging to his sword.

Tracyn shakingly came to his feet, drawing his blade. He made a primal growl, running at the men with his sword held to attack, to kill.

"Careful man, don't die!" Ayaker yelled as he hovered looking for a target to pick. They were all relatively close, he needed to find a way to scatter them, then it clicked! He opened his mouth and blew like a child might blow to blow out birthday candles, but red hot fire shot out of his lungs and hit
right in the middle of the group. There was a sound of howling and they stopped standing so close to each other and ran towards him and his allies.

Ayaker swooped down upon one who seemed to have gotten third degree burns due to standing in the middle of the flame, he held his longsword out in front of him and swung at Ayaker as he came close. Ayaker landed on his feet and went to stab the man, but he thrust out his sword. Ayaker tried to move out of the way but the sword cut in to his arm.He didn't have time to grip his arm and howl like he always used to do and wanted to do now. Instead, Ayaker cursed, and ran towards the man, blood dripping from his arm, the man swung, but Ayaker sidestepped the swing and kicked the mans feet from underneath him. Ayaker threw himself down and stabbed the man violently in the chest, opening up wounds, that with each stab, squirted little streams of blood. Ayaker took his knife and slit the mans throat, cutting the man's carotid artery which shot a stream of blood in to the air. The body fell limp, and Ayaker paused as he noticed he had killed someone, this feeling was quickly interupted by a swift kick to his side, he instinctively rolled to the side as the flail crashed down right where his head had been.

(ooc: i dont suppose your dragon is of any use yet since this is before you got him?)

Lalandria followed Tracyn's guilty gaze to the canal and back. So it had been him that killed the man. It wasn't what she would have expected but it didn't unnerve her. She knew what people could do when they were desperate or angry enough. His tone hadn't been very nice either, now that she thought about it. Her eyes narrowed as she eyed him up and down. She was about to give him a piece of her mind when a nice bunch of macho men decided to crash the party. She turned her still-eyeing gaze towards them. Scratch the above statement and add very macho. Oh, wonderful, she thought to herself, silently cursing herself for following her curiosity.

The 15 thugs completely ignored her as they rushed towards the two men. It might have been that she was still partially hidden by the shadows but most likely they didn't think she was a threat. This brought a smile to her face, rather than the frown it might have brought to some. It put them at a disadvantage, so an advantage for her. Then the little voice in the back of her mind told her the sensible thing to do, run away. Instantly her hand went up to the roof, ready to pull the rest of her when she saw the beating that the thief and Tracyn were getting. The thief at least seemed prepared by being a half-breed and experienced, but Tracyn was getting it hard.

Lalandria hesitated. She couldn't just leave them to die she decided. She let her knives slide into her hands, holding them close to her forearm. Unlike Tracyn and the thief she made her attacks through the shadows. She would stab through the weak armpit of a warrior’s armor when a warrior was being attacked by either one or the other of the men and move on, a silent shadow. At one point she found a man screaming on the floor, flame feeding off him. She quickly slit his throat, ending his misery. Lalandria knew she could never face these men in a fair combat but the shadows were her specialty and none expected her. Here and there she moved, her opponents weakened and in pain from the others' attacks.

She didn't blink when she killed a man. Death had stopped bothering her years before. Neither did she count, not taking any glory from it. Death was just part of the harsh reality that was life. She always took those most weakened, not letting herself step out into the moonlight and allowing others to spot her. If any man saw her killing others, they would attack her as well. That would probably end badly for Lalandria, with her knives against their long swords and strength. Lalandria knew what she could do, and that did not include standing up and killing several thugs without any advantage on her part. If that ever happened she would move into talking and running as fast as she could make her feet take her.

Tracyn fought with renewed blood lust. He fought vigorously, dogging blows, and taking some as well. He managed to take out two thugs, one more by accident than intent. He had two men, on in front and one behind, both attacking. He had managed to stab the one to his front, almost killing him. The mortally wounded man stumbled forward, unable to stop his dieing body and hacked into his ally. Tracyn jumped to the side, spitting out a mouthful of blood. He leaped at another, who blocked his attack and knocked Tracyn down.

Lalandria constantly kept her gaze traveling over the mob of fighting men. She was surprised and, she had to admit, slightly disgusted at the sight of the fighting. It was all so pointless, yet all her life she had seen men and women die in such fights. Over what did people die? A flashback of watching other children killing each other for a scrap of bread came to her mind instantly at the thought. She almost stopped but made herself keep moving, knowing that if she stayed in one spot she would be found out sooner rather than later.

As her eyes scanned the screaming, bleeding men, she kept an eye out for a weakness in either of her allies, and if they were ever in need of assistance. Her movements never stopped and stayed silent. With the silent killing came the strain of moving constantly and her nerves were always on edge causing her to tighten up, and Lalandria rolled her shoulders trying to loosen strained muscles. As she was doing this when she saw the thief was in danger.

Her speed quickly increased and her feet flew over the cobblestones, not making a sound. She was near but she felt her heart race as the man dodged the flail. She slowed her speed lightly as she reached the area they were fighting in. No one was watching but the thief and his opponent. She threw her knife and it blossomed in the thief’s attacker's throat. She watched the thug fall backwards with a strangled cry as he choked and died on his life's blood. Luck ran with her in that moment as the man fell, his head and shoulders hidden in darkness. Lalandria drew her knife from the sheath it had found in man's flesh and continued her prowl, not once looking back to see if the thief had avoided the falling body of the man.

Time seemed to slow as she moved from shadow to shadow awaiting for a victim to appear within her reach. It was slow killing but it worked well, picking off the men that would only try and pull muscle on her allies. By this point the blades of Dria's knives’ glistened with the scarlet blood of the lives they had taken. Every once in a while the moonlight would catch a glimmer from her hair and eyes but it would be so short and brief that any that saw would blame it on a rat or traveling mongrel.

Once more she spotted one of her allies in danger, but this time it was Tracyn. Once again Lalandria ran, finding herself farther than she would have liked, but the clearing was small enough that everywhere but the very center was ringed by shadow. Then again, Lalandria wouldn't have let herself fight in an area that wasn't lighted in this way. A grin crossed her lips as she felt the air blow through her hair. She reached the edge as a sword fell towards Tracyn. Her knife slid across the man's throat, spraying an arc of scarlet blood that seemed almost black in the moonlight. She moved away quickly, not wanting to get caught by the dead man's flaying limbs. Men’s blood spotted her clothing, and her hair flew wildly about her face. Lalandria was still grinning as the man fell, his freshly drawn blood spotting her face and neck. She had learned to keep what happiness she got for as long as possible, the giddiness from the run still coursing though her. Lalandria’s teeth flashed once, white against the black shadows that surrounded her.

Lalandria: Unfortunately for you, the thugs begin to notice that their friends are falling to an assailant other than the two men upon which they are focused. They turn on you and you are quickly attacked by a mob of four men.

Tracyn: Your wounds are bleeding heavily now, and you begin to feel lightheaded and weak from the blood loss. You need to escape, or find healing fast, or you will soon succumb to your many wounds.

Ayaker_Buceg: The man with the flail is now fully focused upon you, and he begins to take swing after swing at you with masterful skill. Luckily, most of the other combatants are dead or focused on the other two. You should be able to fight him without too much interference.

OOC to All: Good fighting so far, keep it up. You may continue with the topic.

Tracyn dragged himself back, he was down, and probobly going to be out soon as well. He continously spat out blood, its crimson coating his chin as it dripped. He fended off a blow with his sword, he still had fight in him. He yelped as another blade hacked into his arm. He continued moving back, the men now deciding to toy with him. He prodded at him with their weapons, a few making it past Tracyn's swats. Tracyn made a last attempt, jabbing his sword. There was a scream and one man fell, a large gash running along his torso. The dieing man made his last move and jammed his blade, with little aim, into the far edge of Tracyn's side. It landed, slipping through a rib, but no harm done to any organ. He moaned, the light headedness, and pain, becoming too much and he colapsed backwards. The thugs, taking him for dead, turned their attention to the others. If he wasn't dead yet, they would make sure of it after they won. If they do.

Ayaker got to his feet as fast as he could and was extremely thankful that Lalandria has saved him, making a mental note to personally talk to her after this was all done. As he was lost in thought,, the leader of the men came at him, his flail swinging like a twister of blades, waiting to cleave Ayaker's flesh. Ayaker knew what he had to do, like lightning he Sprinted in circles around the man, trying to confuse him, the man turning in circles trying to follow his movement, Ayaker sprinted straight in to the man and jabbed his knife in to the man, but his course wasn't straight and all he managed to do was stab the mans arm. Although it was not a mortal wound, Ayaker could feel the man's flesh and muscles rip asunder under his knife. The leader laughed in a mocking way, and swung his flail, the blade crashing in to Ayaker's back, cutting deep in to his unarmored flesh. Ayaker crumpled to his knees, the pain so fierce...He had never felt pain like this before. The man laughed maniacally, approaching for the kill. For a second Ayaker thought it was his last moments in Arda.

"You stupid halfbreed!" he yelled. "What filty person mates with a effin' dragon?! Your a crime against nature! "The words echoed in Ayaker's head, and rage flew up in him, he would not let this guy get away with this, he would not die now..

Ayaker looked up at him, a slight smile on his face, the man wound up for the blow, but before he could finish, his head was engulfed in a stream of flame, the leader's face was at least third degree burned, if not fourth, and the confusion caused him to hit himself in the hip with his flail, cutting a deep gash. The leader screamed out in agony. He would die of infection if nothing else, but that wasn't good enough for Ayaker. He struggled to pull himself to his feet, and put the man out of his misery by slitting his throat. The leader's throat squirted blood out violently, and his body slowly sank to the floor. As the life left him, his body went limp, his grip releasing on his flail, which hit the pavement with a loud metallic clank.

Ayaker's shirt was soaked with blood, and he was beginning to feel dizzy, not to mention the pain in his back which was pulsating with intense pain. His body felt like it needed to sit down but he needed to help Lalandria, and they needed to be fast or Tracyn and him would die of blood loss.

Lalandria’s grin faded as she realized that not only was she in one place but the thugs were beginning to notice that only two people could not have killed all of those that lay on the ground. Her world narrowed as she saw one man spot her and with a shout point at her with his finger. The three others, that weren't occupied, followed his extended arm and finger with their own eyes. Lalandria could feel their gazes on her skin like an itch. Life had just gone horribly; scratch that, terribly, terribly wrong. She felt herself moving even as the thoughts above raced through her mind. The instant she had seen the man's eyes fall on her, her muscles had jerked into motion.

She ran across the short distance it took her to reach the wall, using her momentum to help throw her self over onto the roof above, landing lightly. The thugs were right behind her, but Lalandria was hoping their heavier armor and weapons would cause them to slow down. Lalandria knew the roofs around here like the back of her hand, but she still checked every where she placed her foot before moving on. It was slower than she would have preferred, but it was better than a broken neck from the crash through the roof onto the floor below.

Lalandria continued, feeling every muscle tuned to feel any vibration from below her. She mentally cursed herself constantly for following her curiosity and not running when she had the chance. She heard the harsh breaths of the men that followed her across the rooftops of Lomedor. The sound made the small hairs at the back of her neck rise and she almost panicked, wanting to just run across. She quickly killed the impulse, knowing what disaster it would bring.

She could hear the group split into two, as two people ran straight across the roof towards her. Their companions, who continued in a more careful pace, yelled behind the two ahead of them to be careful. One slowed but the other turned a deaf ear towards their cries and continued to bull towards her. The last she heard of him was a scream as part of the roof gave away beneath him.

Lalandria felt the vibration run through the bottom of her boots. She leaped across the opening between two buildings, her hair streaming behind her and catching the moonlight for one moment. She landed and continued her descent. Behind her she heard the men quickly discuss if they should keep one with the fallen man, apparently not dead but with broken legs, or if all three of them should continue. With a surge of hope she heard only two men jump across the gap. So the men were smart enough to realize that if they left their friend alone he wouldn't survive five minutes in these streets.

Lalandria felt her legs begin to waver with exhaustion, but she moved on, feeling death whispering into her ear. She had to get somewhere with enough light so that she could see and hopefully pick one man off with a knife. From the light she also needed darkness because even if it was one to one, the man's longer reach with his long sword would be enough to kill her. She needed an advantage, badly. She scrambled her memory, trying to think of somewhere that would fit her needs. The only place she could think of was near where she had just left. With a curse she changed her direction and angled towards the clearing again.

She went in a roundabout way, not wanting to give away her destination to the men that were gaining on her. She finally saw the tall building ahead and let a sigh of relief leave her lips. She did a quick turn and seemed to disappear from in front of the men's eyes. The truth was just a quick turn and sliding into the shadows that accepted her with open arms. She panted for a moment or two, letting herself regain her breath before retracing her steps and going for a different hiding place.

She peered from her hiding place behind a broken wall, which seemed too small to be able hide a person. The men had become nervous, their voices quieter and filled with a hidden panic. Their breath could be heard harshly in the cold night air. Lalandria controlled her own breathing, making herself quiet. The men moved carefully and their gazes continually scanned the ground about them. They came closer; the man farthest from her was one step ahead of his companion, a mistake. When they were almost upon her, she threw one knife and got the man in the throat. Unlike her earlier killing this man fell silently.

His partner continued, not realizing that he now walked alone. He finally spoke, "Odd that was that Henri saw, probably just a thief that went down his hidey hole, no Kafril?" After a moment's pause he looked behind and saw his friend on the ground. He turned fully around and ran to go to his friend. Another mistake, Lalandria thought to herself as the knife left her hand, an arc of silver flying through the air before it imbedded itself in the man's back. His back arched with the impact as he landed but a few feet from his friend.

Lalandria left her place of hiding thinking that luck had been with her more than she expected. She walked over to the still twitching corpse of the man and pulled her knife from his back and wiped it's blade on his shirt. She slid it back up her sleeve before she moved onto the other thug and pulled her knife from his throat. His shirt was covered in blood so she moved to his legs and wiped off the blade there.

She considered leaving then, not caring what happened to her companions. What would all of this have been worth then? She asked herself as she turned away from the corpses and walked wearily back to the clearing, still staying to the shadows, knowing that one thug was still whole out there. She reached the clearing and glanced around, in search of any assailants. The men that had been left behind with the fall from the roof were several alleys away and shouldn't notice unless she made too much noise.

Her gaze turned from searching for attackers for friends instead. She saw Tracyn on the floor, looking dead and the thief trying to rise. She looked down at her own body realizing just how little of the blood that covered her body was hers. Luck had truly been with her, or the layers of scar tissue on her body showed experience at fighting that one as young as her would usually not have.

She ran to Tracyn and felt his pulse. He was alive, but if he wasn't treated soon he would die from blood loss. She turned to the corpses around her and tore strips of cloth from their clothing and tried to slow the circulation to the areas that were bleeding on Tracyn. Enough practice on herself had given her this very basic knowledge. She was able to slow it enough to delay any sudden death from blood loss but with enough time she knew he would succumb to the sweet melody of death. She pushed herself from the ground and moved to the thief.

His body and clothing was covered in blood. He was better off than Tracyn though. She cupped his chin and gazed into his eyes with her own whirlpool eyes to see if he was at all conscious or if his body was acting out of survival. Once she decided that he was conscious, f barely, she moved onto his wounds and treated them the same way that she had treated Tracyn's. Her breath sucked in sympathy when she saw the cut on his side. She moved and worked as gently as she could but with speed on his wounds to hold him until she could fetch help.

Tracyn: Your vision begins to flicker and your thoughts turn into a swimming mess of pain and the knowledge that you are dying. You barely even feel Lalandria patching you up. You feel like you are about to pass out, or perhaps you already have. You can't tell. Your wounds will require magical healing soon, but Lalandria's bandages have stemmed the bleeding for now.

Ayaker_Buceg: The wound in your back is very serious and deep. Luckily, your spinal cord remains undamaged, but your back is rent open and you are bleeding heavily. Every movement, no matter how small, sends shockwaves of pain throughout your entire body. Your head begins to spin as shock sets in and the massive wound takes its toll on your body. You will also require healing, and fast.

Lalandria: As you patch up Tracyn, you hear the pounding of heavily armored footsteps coming down the alleyway. Apparently, the Lomedor guard has been alerted to the fight that just took place. They turn the corner to find you covered in the blood of fifteen men who now lay dead. The patrol consists of twenty well-armored soldiers from the Lomedor guard. They take a quick look over the bodies and then approach you.

All: The Lomedor guard can provide you with healing, but you have just killed a grand total of 16 people between you. Two of you are thieves. Probably best not to stick around with them for too long, or you may find yourselves under arrest. Fighting them is not a good option; they are trained, battle-hardened soldiers, not common street thugs.

OOC to Lalandria: You seem to be throwing your daggers around quite a lot, but they are not meant to be thrown. Throwing knives are available for purchase in the Ranged weapons shop. Daggers are not properly balanced for throwing, and you shouldn't expect for them to hit much of anything.

OOC to All: Good job defeating the mob of men. You may now continue with the topic.

OOC: I'm sorry; I didn't realize that there were different weapons for that on this site. Whoops, well next time, before I throw a knife, I'll go buy myself a couple meant for throwing. I'm guessing I don't have to go back and kill the thugs other ways, but if I do, just tell me and I will find different ways for Lalandria to get rid of her assailants.

Oh, sorry for the length of the other post. I hadn't realized it had gotten that long.

IC: Lalandria felt strain at having to do all this. Why had she let herself follow her curiosity was still beyond her. She cursed as she saw just how bad Tracyn's condition was. If she was going to get help, it would have to be fast. These thoughts died when she heard footsteps, allot of footsteps. She felt panic rise in the back of her throat. She had heard those armored feet before and knew they weren't friends of thugs that came to her now. No, these men were worse, far worse.

As the twenty guards came in marching straight out of the alley, anger rose in Lalandria's throat. Why did they have to get involved now? Well, the real question was why they were in this end of town anyway, but at the moment that really didn’t matter to Lalandria as she caught their gazes and followed it to her dress. Oh yeah, and to make life worse she was now caught with the blood of fifteen men covering her body. How lovely, all her luck had just crashed and been repaid double by their appearance. I knew it was going to get bad, Lalandria thought to herself, once more mentally kicking herself.

She had several options at the moment. One included saying a variation of the true story and the other was lying through her teeth. It wasn't like they would believe her anyway, from the way she looked and the way they were eyeing her. It wasn't that Lalandria was a thief or criminal. No, she was a bard, plain and simple. Not that this mattered to these men as long as you looked poor enough. Once you reached a certain point of poverty you were considered a thief no matter what you did. Bitterness covered the top of Lalandria's mouth as the men moved closer.

She stood from her kneeling position by Tracyn's side. She made a look of weariness, completely unfeigned, and relief, a complete lie that looked as real as a starving child given food. Her hands went to her mouth and covered it as tears sparkled in her eyes. Oh yes, she could act the role of a woman saved. She had played it enough times in her life. She looked the full part of a young woman that had just found the answer to all her problems and was about to burst into tears with relief.

"Sirs, dear soldiers, help me. These men will die without your assistance," she said walking up to them but stopping short of falling at their feet when several of the soldiers drew their swords and pointed them at heart.

"What?" she asked, making her self sound confused as she looked down at the glinting blades as she took a step back.

She looked back up at the man that seemed to be a commander with confusion and pleading in her eyes. She looked back down making her seem resigned and meek. Then Lalandria made herself look like she was gathering her strength and courage before looking back up at the soldiers.

"Please, my sirs, help my brother and husband who just tried to save me from attackers," she said, hope seeming like just an almost extinguished light in the back of her eyes.

She looked almost at her energy's end, as well as that of her courage. At the moment Lalandria looked younger than she was and ready to give up and walk away from men that had taken everything from her. With one last try she gathered her breath.

"Please, dear sirs, they are all I have, please," she said falling to a kneeling position and gazing up into the eyes of the man she could have sworn was the commander.

For a moment Lalandria almost swooned, her earlier exhaustion hitting her, but she caught herself. This, all too true, action added an edge of truth to what her story was, that not even the real truth could have matched.

Ayaker couldn't help but smile a bit when he saw Lalandria coming back in to the alley, knowing that all the thugs had been taken care of. The battle had truly tooken a toll on him and Tracyn, but this girl seemed a very experienced fighter, covered with only the entrails and guts of other people. He was just glad that he survived the fight. Well...He had survived it for now, he knew if he were not treated very soon he would probably die. There was a bit of fear in his mind, of all the things that he had not done remaining forever lost. He never met his father, never faced him face to face. He had never explored the world to its extent, from the highest peak to the deepest cave. He could not lose all of these things.

Then Lalandria attempted to help him. He wretched with pain while Lalandria was treating his wounds, every movement seemed to send daggers through his back, but he knew he needed the attention. He felt his eyelids getting heavy, and his body losing all feeling other then the pain. He was half unconsious as he heard the metallic footsteps of the guard. "Great..." He muttered to himself, though not out loud.

He was awake long enough to see Lalandria grovel for the guards, and he knew that he owed her a huge debt of gratitude. He attempted to move his head, to look at the guards, which took a huge amount of strength, and he spoke as well as he could.

"Please....Men..ambushed us.....Help..." He said. He didn't know quite what happened next, his body slipping in to shock, for his view shifted from looking up at the guards, in intense pain, to looking in to the face of his mother. She spoke softly and gently. "It is not your time yet..." the words echoed in his head. "But...I'll be with you..." he said. "Some day, but not now..." she said, her eyes having a look of sadness.

Tracyn shivered, he began to ramble on about any number of things. "Socoldsocoldsocoldsocold..." he squirmed, releasing a new stream of blood. Blood lust was both a gift and a curse. He had killed what? Four people. He never expected this to happen, even after he had slain his sister's murderer.

Lalandria looked pleadingly up at the commander's face. He looked down with a stony face, when Tracyn's cries echoed through the clearing. The man turned his face away from her to gaze at Tracyn's body. With a quick motion of his hand three men, one was carrying implements of healing, broke off from the group towards Tracyn. Lalandria could feel her relief palpably. It almost hurt. With one more look her way he sent several other men in the thief's direction. He was hopefully, not carrying any loot on his body because then she might have just hurt more than helped him.

Her knees were starting to ache from kneeling and Lalandria had always disliked begging or groveling. That just wasn't how she usually did things. She wanted to stand but there was one little problem. The commander was still there with most of his men. He motioned once more with his hand and instead of more men running to help her falling companions they circled her, their swords drawn. Luck would have been with her too much if something like this hadn't happened.

Lalandria wanted to just get up and walk away, but she had a very strong feeling that if she did such a thing she would end up with a sword in her back. When that option left her mind one of just falling asleep on the bloody ground tugged at her, but she couldn't, not with the commander glaring at her the way he was. He probably didn't believe a word that she said which would have seemed odd to any outsiders. Lalandria had perfected the ability to lie and tell a story so that it made so much sense that anything else but what she had said would have seemed a lie. It wasn't how plausible or how realistic that mattered to these men. It only mattered how much wealth you had.

Lalandria wanted to scream in frustration but the commander's stony face was a wall to her freedom. At the moment she hated him but once more she heard Tracyn in the back ground and restrained saying some very choice words. The commander walked toward her and moved his hand towards her face. Lalandria visibly flinched out of his reach only to feel cold steel pressing against her back. The man cupped her chin and turned her face towards his. At the feeling of someone she didn't trust touching her, Lalandria closed her eyes, powerless to do anything but stay kneeling at his feet.

“Look at me,” said a cold voice from the man before her.

Lalandria felt a cold jab at her back and opened her eyes. The man peered down at her. His face was still cold but now more than before, he was assessing. His eyes were an ice blue as he peered into her dark eyes. Lalandria hated being this close to anyone unless she was sure of a way out and right now she was cornered, an animal ready for slaughter.

“Which one is your husband?” he asked again in that cold voice.

Lalandria moved to look over her shoulder at the thief but his hand kept her in place. Frustration bloomed in her. Everything had been going well until she did not to ignore something she should have known better than to listen to.

“He is the one next to the man with the flail,” she replied finally.

Her voice was quiet but held an edge to it that hadn’t been there before. His fingers, cold from the night air, rested against her cheek were beginning to push her to a point of desperation. One that has never felt powerless in the face of abuse would not have understood but at the moment Lalandria was reaching a point where if the man moved a step closer she just might loose all her sense and attack him. Too many years of feeling powerless against her father’s beatings had pushed her to this. She felt powerless once more and it scared her more than anything else in the world would have. With one last gaze at Lalandria’s face he released her and stepped back, his men doing the same. Lalandria felt the cold steel slip away from her back and she slumped, relief washing over her like a tide.

Ayaker's mind was filled with swirling memories of his past, and he was not there with Lalandria and Tracyn, but standing there, looking at his mother. She stood there frowning at him. Suddenly, a man shrouded in black garb came up behind her, and before Ayaker could move, the man pushed his knife through his mother's back, and the blade pushed out her stomach, she looked pleadingly at Ayaker, and then her eyes rolled back in to her head, and she slumped to the ground, the blood pouring out of her and forming a deep red puddle.

Furious, He charged at the man who had stabbed her, his own knife in his hand, but as he pushed his wrist to wrend the man's flesh, he disapeared in a puff of red smoke, and Ayaker stumbled forward and fell, crashing in to the ground. He turned around, only to see a giant red dragon standing there. The dragon roared in rythym, as if laughing at Ayaker, and then he blew a pillar of fire at him, just as the pillar reached his body, Ayaker was awoken to the real world by a cold feeling rushing over him, and he would have looked up to see three soldiers treating his wounds, had they not place him face down in the dirty street to treat his back wound. it seemed they had been using magic to heal him, and that must've been the rush. He waited silently, until he felt them bandaging up his wounds.

"Stand up." one of them said.He pushed his palms in to the ground and lifted himself up, and then rose to standing position. They inspected him, looking at his wounds, and his general look. He noticed he wasn't wearing a shirt, it lay in a bloody heap on the ground, where the soldiers must have put it. He could not wear his shirt any more, which was a problem for that particular day, since it was cold out and his only shirt was soaked with blood. He would have to steal some money to buy another shirt, and maybe a sweater too. He was thankful he hadn't stolen anything yet that day, for the soldiers told him to empty his pockets. He reached in to his pockets, and pulled out the empty insides. "See Nothing." he said. The guard sneered at him, "Your a regular filty street kid, you should stay out of these parts of town, the guard won't always be around to save your butt, which you obviously can't do yourself.."

If there was one thing Ayaker hated almost as much as greedy nobles, it was the city guard. They were arrogant, and cared nothing for the common person. He resisted the urge to spit on the guard in front of him.

Lalandria heard soldiers talking behind her and looked around seeing that she now had room to actually stand and turn around. Fantastic, she thought to herself as she pushed her aching body off the ground. She turned and saw the thief was up and standing. She made a brilliant smile appear on her face, apparently at the appearance of her "husband" up and about again. She almost took a step forward but looked over her shoulder at the commander for permission. He nodded and the soldiers parted. The man was better than some she thought to herself, seeing a glimpse of the man hidden behind those ice eyes, before turning back toward the opening that the soldiers had left for her.

She had to get to the thief and tell him the story before he blew everything by saying something as foolish as the truth, she thought to herself at the sight of him. She made her muscles carry her into a light-footed walk towards him. She threw her arms about his neck lightly, making sure she didn't bother any of his bandages or pains.

"They think you’re my husband and Tracyn is my brother, and you two saved me from the thugs. Don't blow the story," she whispered into his ear, just loud enough for him to hear.

Her whisper looked like she was whispering endearments to her "husband." She then made herself burst into tears on his shoulder. Oh yes, life was just going wonderful. She had to act like she was happily married, and the guards had just saved her from being a sad widow. The day was truly just getting better and better. Lalandria was just waiting for the commander to come pull her away and start questioning her again. At the memory of his cold fingers on her cheek she flinched but made herself continue crying. Never was there a respite from life for her to actually be her true self for once. With that thought came another thought that echoed through her mind, who was she really?

Ayaker looked a little confused for a second, but when Lalandria burst in to tears, he tried to act as much as possible like a comforting husband. He attempted to hold her like he might someone he cared about, though it was very awkward since he really didn't know who this woman was,and he had never held anyone before. Despite the awkwardness, he'd have to act the part if they wanted to escape imprisonment .

"Hey..It's fine." he reasured Lalandria. He "Your safe now, and we're doing...ok" He reached one of his hands around his back and prodded the bandaged wound on his back, which vibrated pain through his back, he wretched a bit, before recovering his composure. Apparently the wound wasn't instantly recovered, but would take some time to mend.

Ayaker's gaze traveled to the commander, who he had seen before. He was a cold ruthless man, much more of a criminal than Ayaker could ever aspire to be. He wondered if the commander would want to talk to him, he didn't really have much of a story to tell, other then what Lalandria had told him, the commander might not bother. Either way, he would have no trouble lying to this man's face, as he felt no guilt in the matter.

His Gaze traveled to Tracyn, who a little while ago had been bleeding profusely and unconsious, he was currently being attended by guards. He let go of Lalandria, and kneeled down next to Tracyn. "Hey.." he asked the guard tending to him. "Is my brother-in-law going to be all right?" He may have been lieing in calling Tracyn his brother-in-law, but he still worried about his survival, surviving a fight like that was enough to make friends out of people, but Tracyn's tragedy and past also made him feel like he was sort of like a brother, since they had both undergone similar events. This was a friendship that would last a while.

Lalandria felt the thief's awkwardness and inwardly groaned. He might just blow everything if he didn't do something soon. Lalandria had thought the tears and all would be more realistic and be easy to follow along with but apparently some people didn't know how to hold someone correctly. She relaxed when he started talking. The words sounded a little off but it would be enough to secure their story with her performance. She heard him retching from touching his wound and all most ground her teeth. You do not do that, and you stay to the story always. What made it worse was she could feel the commander's eyes on her back the whole time.

She let go of the thief to allow him to go over to Tracyn. She followed more slowly, picking through the discarded bodies and weapons that littered the ground. She knelt down by his head. The kid didn't look good but if the soldiers had magic healing at their disposal, as they had used on the thief, then she was confident Tracyn would be alright. What worried her most was his mumbling and rambling. It scared her out of her wits; reminding herself of all too many men that she had seen go mad. She reached down and cupped his cheeks with both hands, cold like the commander's by the night air, and bent down to see his face better.

"Tracyn, listen to me. You’re alright now. Someone is taking care of you," she said.

Her face was streaked with the tears and her bloodied hair hung over one shoulder. Her facial expression was the picture of a woman who nearly lost her husband and was terrified of loosing someone else as well. Tares in her clothing from the fight were revealing more skin than most would consider acceptable. The revealed throat and shoulders also added to the look that she was wearing less than she was. The bloodied streaks that that painted her hair and body made her look wild almost out of reach. It gave her a picture of a fallen angel lost to all hope of rescue. It was an odd combination, but both carried an edge of desperation to them that echoed Lalandria's true character better than anything else.

Lalandria once more felt eyes resting on her. For a moment she turned her gaze away from Tracyn's face. She looked over her shoulder and saw the commander’s eyes resting on her in a way she didn't like. Their eyes caught, and Lalandria shivered and saw that it just made a small cold smile rest on his lips. She forced herself to look away from his ice blue eyes and look down at the face of the stable boy she had met not too long ago in a little town near the middle of nowhere.

Tracyn gasped, waking up. He sat up, wincing at the act, he gasped and colapsed back. "I-I think I'll be alright," He managed to smile, perhaps his confusion was what let him do it. He was disorientated after everything that had happend to day, all he really wanted was just some time to simply rest.

Lalandria smiled down at him. Her eyes sparkled with the sight of him already trying to get up. Idiot, she thought silently to herself but it was more exasperation than anything else. The soldiers got up and left Tracyn's side. They walked to their commander and joined the formation of now twenty that stood behind him.

"I would take better care of where your wife and sister go next time. Someone might do something to her and you won’t be able to stop them,” the man said with a cold gaze her way before turning on his heel and leaving the clearing.

Lalandria shivered at the memory of his gaze and returned her eyes to Tracyn with relief. He was at least speaking and alive. That meant he would probably continue to do so.

"I'm glad to hear that," Lalandria said sounding slightly sarcastic.

Her smile took the sting out of her words completely though. She was glad and that in itself was an odd enough emotion to find in Lalandria. Her smile disappeared and her face turned stern.

"What were you dong here any way? I told you cities weren't nice areas, but you didn't listen, did you," she said sounding annoyed.

She could see the poor man was exhausted but she had just killed and had nearly been killed because of his actions. Deep inside she knew she should blame herself for listening to her curiosity but another voice said that it didn't matter. She saved his hide in her point of view and he owed her badly.

"What is your name anyway?" she added with a second thought, turning toward the thief.

She thought it was about time she knew, considering she had claimed he was her husband and all. Also she considered that she had saved his hide as well, so she deserved to know who he was.

Tracyn looked down, feeling very dumb. He should have listened to her, he should not have come here, he should have stayed at the stables. But no, he had to be the hero. What did he get for that? A bundle of wounds and a dead sister. Great, just great. He owed her though, if it wern't for her he would be dead. "Look, if there is anything I can do to repay you, please tell me."

Ayaker shot a dirty look at the back of the commander, followed by a rude hand gesture. Once they were out of earshot, he patted Tracyn lightly on the shoulder. "Your a good fighter Tracyn, better than me thats for sure. Don't overdo it..."

Ayaker stood up, and closed his eyes, and the red light once again enveloped his body, shrowding his draconic features. He looked once again like a normal human. Lalandria questioned him, of his identity. Then she reprimanded Tracyn, and he sorta felt bad for the guy, he probably would of done the same thing if he had the chance. Personal feelings aside, Lalandria had saved them, and he felt she might be expecting more then a simple expression of gratitude. He figured an explanation was a good place to start.

"My name is Ayaker." he said. He wasn't sure what to say after that. He didn't really have much of an identity, or a purpose. He was just there. "Im what some may call a 'thief,' but it's not really true. I'm not greedy, I steal to survive. I was taking a shortcut behind the pub that I take sometimes crossing town, and I smelt the stench of blood and death. I encountered Tracyn, and talked to him for a few minutes, then you showed up. Then there was a giant battle."

Ayaker looked at his hands, and at the bodies lying on the ground, and then back to his hand. He gazed to the side, and saw the man he had brutally stabbed to death, then the man who had the flail. He had killed two people, and he hadn't even thought of the extent of it until now. Did he mind? He considered it for a few seconds.. No he had killed those men out of defense of himself and two other people. It wasn't wrong for him to kill those men. That didn't stop the fact that it still brought a chilling feeling to Ayaker's being. He noticed that Lalandria and Tracyn were still there, and decided to end the awkward pause.

" We owe our lives to you Lalandria, if theres anything I can ever do, just let me know. I know a friend when I see one, and I'd say what we've just been through makes us all friends of sorts. You wouldn't have stayed if you didn't care about us, you could've run, but you saved us. Ill be thankful forever for that."

He would've bowed or at least shook her hand if he were more of a gentleman, but being a gentleman wasn't exactly on his top list of things to do.

Lalandria actually felt guilty at the expression that appeared on Tracyn's face. He seemed so young in her eyes and perhaps he was, in a way, younger than her. The poor kid she shouldn't have gotten grumpy but her dress was a bloody ruin now and would take forever to clean. In the state she was in, no inn would accept her. She sighed and resigned herself to a night in the cold street. When she heard what Tracyn said her ears perked in horror. Oh no, never offer that, it was too dangerous. The person could ask anything and absolutely everything. She was about to tell him this when the thief spoke.

She turned her gaze to him and heard his name and how he tried to explain his actions. A smile returned to her face at this and her eyes twinkled. He was a thief as she had thought. She really didn't care whether or not he did it for the heck of it or to survive but, it obviously meant something to the fellow so she didn't mention that. Her smile slipped slightly when she saw for a moment the guilt at killing someone cross his face. Why didn't she feel it? The thought echoed through her mind as she glanced away from the thief’s face. Too many times had life led her in that direction, that she had buried the feeling so far that killing became nothing, not an amusement nor a burden.

Her smile slipped a bit more as she heard his next words, another offer. They were both honorable but idiots. The poor bloody idiots. This train of thought froze when she heard the word friend leave his mouth. Her head snapped around to glare at him. How dare he assume she had come back because she cared? That made her sound weak and Lalandria hated sounding weak above anything else. She slowly stood still glaring at him at both the men at her feet.

"I wouldn't assume such a thing if I were you, boy. Who says I wasn't just here for the loot of the dead side? Who says I didn‘t know these men were coming?" Lalandria said, the moon shining on her and catching glimmers in her hair but keeping her eyes whirlpools of darkness.

"Offering such services isn't smart either. They could ask something of you that you are not willing to follow through with and you will find yourself dishonored. Somehow I think that neither of you would like that," she added, an amused smile touching her lips.

"As for this a great battle, it was but a skirmish. Do you not listen to songs, boy? A battle is when not the blood of sixteen lie on the ground. No, it is when the blood of thousands intermingle and soak into the cold unforgiving earth that gives no thought of which side you fought and gave your life for. It is where so many crows and ravens feast upon the bodies, which litter the ground, that the very skies turn black by their wings. Child, learn how to not assume, for it might just bring about your death," she said her voice turning into almost song as she described the battle. As was her talent, most would have been carried to the site and dragged through the horrific scenes that lie there.

She stood there, looking darkly feyish in the moonlight. Her heart felt broken, dragged out of her. She could not care because bad things happened when she cared. A shiver nearly ran down her spine but so numb had she become to the pain that her emotional psyche caused her, that she didn't even twitch. A slight breeze picked up her bloodied hair and made it billow out slightly behind her. The tares in her clothing becoming more obvious as the loose strips flapped in the breeze. Up her sleeves she could feel the comforting coldness of her daggers. If the men got angry with her words she decided, she could defend herself against their weakened state. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that, but if it did, she was prepared.

Ayaker stood there, and a somber look of understanding came to his face, followed by a bit of a frown. "I'm sorry to have assumed such a thing." he said. " I guess I just misunderstood your intentions.." He looked at the ground, avoiding either her or Tracyn's eyes. He had gotten his hopes up, after so many years of being alone, he thought perhaps he had finally found some friends. Well, there was still the chance of Tracyn being his friend, but this woman wanted nothing to do with him, and he felt like an idiot for assuming she was his friend.

Then she told him that he shouldn't promise things, for fear of dishonorment. She was right, he shouldn't promise anything, perhaps he should promise anything he was capable of doing. He did feel he owed some sort of debt to Lalandria, and though he wouldn't do everything for her, he would do anything he could. When she was describing the war scene, he got a horrible mental image. He saw thousands of mutilated corpses, lining an open field. The hills were not green like they should, but died red with the blood of war victims. He wondered if he would ever participate in such a battle...he doubted it, he wasn't much of a loyalist to anyone, other then those he cared about. He cared nothing for the government of the land, believing they only hurt the inhabitants who needed their help the most.

He took another look at Lalandria, she looked very troubled, though perhaps she didn't meant to show it. She looked like someone who had been through an intense world of pain and suffering. He felt sad for her. He wondered if she ever smiled. Some might think of Ayaker's life as hard, but he had a relatively positive outlook on life. Whatever happened happened, and he wouldn't let a few blunders stop him from living his life.

He looked in to her face now to speak. "I'm sorry Lalandria, but my offer remains, if theres anything you need, that I am capable of doing in my power, let me know. I owe you a debt of gratitude, and if you ever change your mind, I could always use more friends."

OOC: Congrats of ARP Ayaker! Sorry for taking so long to reply. I was suddenly whacked with about a million things last week that I wasn’t expecting. Sorry once more.

IC: When Lalandria saw Ayaker's expression and the way he was holding himself, she almost instantly regretted her words. She wanted to say that no, he hadn't assumed wrong, but she couldn't back on her words now. She held herself as aloof as he. Her eyes played over him and saw him look down. Her heart went out to him, knowing what it felt like to be rejected, over and over again. She almost went to him then, but she forced herself to stay in place, almost completely hidden by shadow.

When he looked back up from his feet and looked her in the eye, she stared right back at him, her eyes glinting in the bit of moonlight that did catch her. In that look, she caught a hint of an expression she had seen too many times before, pity. Lalandria hated pity. She worked herself to the bone to get what little she had, and how dare these people feel sorry for her. Most hadn't heard the number of stories she had, and most would never see the places she had gone in her short life. Her chin lifted slightly, in defiance of all that life had thrown at her. Her eyes glared out from under her curls at the man that dared show that expression to her face.

Then he had to speak, of course. His words melted her defiance at him, but it didn't show. She eyed him up and down once more. She seemed to stand out of the picture of the clearing and seemed a curious observer instead. Her eyes went from him to the form of Tracyn lying on the ground. She hesitated for a moment on him before turning back to the thief. She walked towards him slowly, obviously careful of any quick movements on his part. When she reached him, she lifted a finger to trace his face, her hand cold from the night air, and a thoughtful expression resting lightly on her face.

"A friend? Tell me, what is a friend exactly? Is it someone you have believe in you until you go off and rob them blind behind their back? Is it someone you have follow you blindly without thought of their own? What is it exactly that you mean with that word? Do not lie to me, because I will know," she said, her whirlpool eyes gazing into his green. Her head was tilted to the side, allowing her curls to fall lazily over her shoulder. Her finger came to rest under his chin. She looked as feyish as she ever got in the moonlight that now rested on her. The moonlight, her element and soul, always brought the look to her in a way that nothing else ever could.

OOC: Thanks Lalandria! It makes me happy that in the course of this topic I went from 120 words to 551 words. And dont worry about not posting, I was gone for a while, and Im not in a rush, this is a quality topic, unlike a lot I've been in.(character development-wise)

IC:
Ayaker watched Lalandria as she moved towards him, analayzing her intentions. She traced her face with his finger, and he resisted the urge to shiver due to the overwhelming cold feeling of her finger. Winter nights would do that to you he supposed. She asked him what a friend is, she said "Is it someone you have believe in you until you go off and rob them blind behind their back?" He should be used to this, being a thief, but it still hurt him a bit. He waited a second after she had finished talking, she didn't seem to trust him, even though he had just fought side by side with her. That was ok, he would convince her.

"A friend..." He said, looking her eye to eye "has several meanings to me, or rather several aspects. A friend is someone you can trust. A friend is someone that tries to understand you, and values you as a person. A friend is someone who makes you smile happily in good times, and who will provide a shoulder for you to cry on in the bad times. Most of all, it is someone you care about, and who cares about you, and won't abandon you."

Ayaker paused, it felt awkward talking about his feelings openly with people he had just met, but he supposed that he was a bit overdo for expressing himself. He looked at Lalandria, the woman who had saved his life. She may bare a fey look, but she seemed like a good person. Perhaps she was confused, and perhaps Ayaker's view of good differed from that of a Paladin, but he felt he could trust her.

Then he looked to Tracyn, a man caught up in a swirl of torment. Tracyn had killed a man, but even before the fight, it didn't bother Ayaker, he wasn't exactly the lawful type. The idea of avenging a loved one really hit home with him, and he felt a strange kinship with the man who had suffered a similar tragedy to his own. Tracyn too fostered trust.

He looked back and forth between them, and said, "Forgive me if I'm brash, I'm not usually very social, since most people wont consort with me, but you two are different from them. " He paused, and decided he needed to say something regarding Lalandria's statement.

"Oh...and I do not rob friends, or innocent people. I rob the greedy nobles who refuse to give any of their inherited wealth to the starving masses of the streets. I rob the servants of our government which let people like me rot in alleys and eat trash from compost piles. I feel I am entitled to take from these greedy people. You have to understand though, I do not steal from children, or innocent people who are trying to survive, nor even normal people who live normal lives. I steal from the rich and greedy, just so that I may survive another day on Arda."

He looked up at Lalandria, waiting for her reply. Most people regarded a thief as a thief, and that was it. People didn't usually distinguish between good thieves and bad thieves, but he had a strange feeling these new comrades would understand.

Tracyn looked up, weary and worn. He stared in silence, utter silence. Even his breathing was quiet. "I think we should be going." He coughed, wiping his face off with his sleeve. He stumbled to his feet, resting a hand on the damp wall. He looked down the street, and towards the pub. He feared what else might come out if they didn't leave this dark alley soon.

He pulled himself up fully, his legs wobbling with his weight. He fumbled with his bloodied sword, clumsily sheathing it. He trudged towards the main streets, using the walls for support. He paused and turned, waiting for Ayaker and Lalandria to catch up. He wanted to find a quiet inn to rest at for a couple days, two at the least.

(I'm jealous of you two, such long posts...but hey I'm starting to catch up to!)

OOC: Don't worry Tracyn. It took me such a long time to get my posts to the 300 word length. Now that I look back, OMG, my posts were absolutely horrid. You are way better than I was when I started.

IC: Lalandria saw that Ayaker got hurt by her words, but they had been necessary, and the boy should be used to it. He was a thief. She stared right back into his eyes as he explained what he thought a friend was. A small sad smile grew on her lips as he continued to speak. The poor, poor child. He still believed that such a friendship existed. Lalandria had only ever found them in stories herself. Lalandria didn't comment, though. She silently decided to let him dream as she herself never was able to. When he stopped and looked slightly embarrassed. She looked away for a second, at the bodies that littered the ground. Memories flashed at the thought of letting him have what she never did. The urge to cry arose, but, as she always did, Lalandria gritted her teeth and pushed it away.

She looked back up to hear his next words. She couldn't help herself, she laughed. Her laughter rang through the clearing like a bell. It was a surprising sound to go with the grisly scene that surrounded them.

"People don't consort with your type much? Well, if it makes you feel any better, I have spent my life around men much worse than you," she said with a wink his way and her voice echoing with her earlier laughter.

Then as he tried to explain that he was a thief that only robbed from the bad government officials she quieted. He put working people quite high but Lalandria herself felt a slight weed of anger grow within her. All working men were obviously good, weren't they? How about the men that fondled serving girls on a daily bases? How about the men that beat their wives and children daily? Not all working men were good, Lalandria knew well enough.

Tracyn's words dragged her out of her reverie. She glanced at him and saw what he looked like. She stepped away from Ayaker, and swiftly turned and walked towards Tracyn. The boy could barely hold himself up. With a sigh of frustration she took hold of his elbow, trying to offer some support for his weak body.

"Don't go rushing off like that. What would have happened if someone had jumped you right then? I would have been to far away to help," she said sounding more worried than annoyed.

"Anyway, you don't want to go back to the pub. There are better inns if you can afford them," she added with a second thought and a glance in the direction he had been heading.