Outside the great forest of Yomenïampa, Rhyl'drin felt uneasy. The towering trees cast long, menacing shadows over his small camp, promising death to anyone who dared to enter within and disrupt the balance of nature which the Elves held so dear.

But, that was exactly what the Drow planned to do.

The great elven city within the forest had long been a bastion of light against any dark thing that dared enter. Skilled archers hidden among the trees promised a swift death to anyone foolish enough to venture too close to the city, and roaming patrols were a constant threat to trespassers. But for all their security, the Elves of Yomenïampa had grown complacent. The idea that anyone with ill intent would come within a hundred miles of their city had become alien to them.

It was true, Rhyl'drin thought grimly. This could be the death of all of us. It was only out of desperation that he'd agreed to go here in the first place. His ordeal with Leila had escalated steadily since that one fateful night when they first met on the streets of Ondolond, and it was taxing on him in every way possible. He lived in constant paranoia- the life of a spy played terrible tricks on his mind. He didn't know who he could trust, or who's side he was on even. He needed time to get away, to disappear for a little while. Besides, the hunt that was about to occur promised good coin which he was desperately short on as well, in addition to an even greater treasure.

****

The Drow had been searching through an herbal shop in Lómëdor, up to no good as usual. He was terribly low on poison, which might have been blood to the Drow. Normally he would have went out into the country to search out the ingredients himself, but he didn't have time to search the grasslands for the various herbs, shrubs, and roots that he needed. He only relinquished his last few gold pieces for the necessary ingredients with reluctance, watching each coin slip through his fingers.

At the door, a pinned parchment caught Rhyl'drin eye. Written in plain script, it seemed like a sort of advertisement. Curious, the Drow approached in to investigate further.


Mark: UNICORNS of a magical nature with alchemical properties
Location: Yomenïampa
Reward: 50 Gold Crowns per Unicorn

All interested parties should contact DRESDAN at the WILWARIN Inn and Pub for further details.

Rhyl'drin considered it for a moment. Yomenïampa was a familiar name to him, but he'd never had any reason to travel that far. Still... the coin would be useful. Further, as an alchemist he found the advertisement particularly intriguing. Assuming whoever had posted the notice didn't have any need for the various unicorn parts used in alchemy, Rhyl'drin could walk away with a wide variety of useful ingredients, which he could use either in his personal potions or in the elixirs he provided to clients around the city.

I've been at this far too long. Vampires and corrupt nobles can wait- Leila can manage for a bit. It was too good to pass up.

It took a day or two, but Rhyl'drin was able to find the Dresdan fellow at the Inn eventually. He was immaculately dressed in some nobles' livery- the idea had not struck him that there was some higher power at work here. Unicorns were beloved by the goddess Lothlómendil- Rhyl'drin did not believe in the surface gods and had no qualms killing something that these deities supposedly held dear, but he would have thought that a surface dweller would not feel so. No matter, it's none of my business anyways. If they want dead unicorns, they'll get some unicorns.

Rhyl'drin approached the man and hesitantly introduced himself. "I am Rhyl'drin of house Kre; you are Dresdan, yes? I spotted your poster and I am interested in the work."

The man looked Rhyl'drin up and down, appraising him. Rhyl'drin did not look the part of a hunter- he bore no open weapons, though he did have a dagger hidden within the folds of his cloak. His clothing was fitting for one his station, a councilor to Lord Viterius. But his lithe build spoke of a subtle strength, one that had been honed with years of trial in the Underdark and on the surface alike. The man seemed satisfied after a moment, despite Rhyl'drin's appearance. "Have a seat, Rhyl'drin."

The man poured them both a glass of cheap port, took a sip, and addressed Rhyl'drin. "What experience have you got that makes you suitable for the job, Drow?"

Rhyl'drin hesitated. His true profession as a spy, along with the intrigue and events centered around Leila, had provided plenty of training for the Drow, but that was not something he would speak of even to a friend, much less a total stranger. He chose to reveal a darker side of his past, which would none the less garner less suspicion.

"If you would have it known, human, I fought in the war for the moon. I am a trained soldier and am no stranger to hardship." He took a swig from the glass Dresdan had poured, just barely grimacing as the harsh alcohol burned its way down his throat. "Before that I have hunted far more foul things in the Underdark than you would see here on the surface. The necessary alchemical ingredients for many of my elixirs have driven me to hunt many a beast here on the surface which a unicorn would fear to encounter."

Dresdan nodded. "Ah, is that so? Fought in the war, eh? I've known a few men of that conflict, perhaps you were in the same division as one of them."

Rhyl'drin laughed. "Unless you make friends of demons and evil men, it's unlikely I've served with anyone you know. Third Pike Brigade, Second Phalanx- House Kre's tip of the spear against the enemies of Raku."

Dresdan watched for a second to see if the Drow was joking, but clearly he was not. After an uneasy moment of awkward silence, he managed a grunt. "Well, to each his own I suppose."

"Aye, it was a choice we regretted. Raku promised us a new land- all we got was death."

Dresdan pushed past the subject. "Well, I think you'll be just fine then. Take this- it's a map to the location where you can meet the rest of the hunting party, outside the forest of Yomenïampa." Rhyl'drin studied the map and pocketed it. "All my employer requires is the ears of the beasts, two from each kill. The rest of it may be split amongst the rest of the party, if you wish. The hunt begins in three weeks time- it should be enough to get your affairs together and ride to the meeting spot."

Rhyl'drin gave a light bow of his head as he rose to leave. "My thanks, sir. I look forward to a successful return." With that he left to prepare for the journey.

****

And so Rhyl'drin waited at the large rock outside the forest, along with his war-horse, eager to begin the hunt. The other hunters would be arriving throughout the day, and then they would enter the forest. Rhyl'drin did not know who else had been hired for the job, but based on the type of men these sorts of jobs usually drew in, Rhyl'drin was certain he'd at least know someone. Being a spy in Lómëdor required a large network of contacts, after all.

Rhyl'drin snapped out of his reverie as another figure appeared on the horizon, slowly but surely approaching the camp. Readying himself, Rhyl'drin waited- perhaps it was a friend who had come to join him, or maybe it was a far-ranging Elven patrol. Rhyl'drin could only wait- they had certainly spotted him, and it was only a matter of time before they'd be in speaking range.

Jaz shook his head as he jostled within the wagon. It had been nearly a week since leaving Estolad, and he was getting tired of the monotonous grassy landscape around him. His company for the wagon ride had not been the most entertaining, either. The manish-looking woman, the wife of a womanly-looking man next to her, had taken a nap, sparing him from several more hours of the most annoying voice Jaz had ever remembered hearing.

Why did this have to happen?

It had started with the death of Renald, the son of a prominent Duke in Lomedor. Jaz, acting on behalf of a fellow named Weneclaus, had engaged the services of another mercenary to provide security for the young noble after a city guard leader had expressed concern for the boy's safety.

But the bodyguard, a drow, never arrived. And now the boy was dead, poisoned at a drunken masque party with some of his other high society chums. This had lead to a bit of an uproar, denunciations all around. Fortunately, Jaz and Wene managed to get away with their necks intact. At the end, a magistrate had decided that the death was not their fault, inspite of the failure of the bodyguard to arrive, as the murder was done by poison, not by assault. A bodyguard, even a good one, would not have been able to prevent the incident, as the bottle of wine in question would have had to have been tampered with long before the night in question.

None the less, the air in Lomedor had turned very unfavorable in Wene and Jaz's opinion, and both of them headed in opposite directions to wait for the situation to blow over.

Jaz had been contemplating where he would go to lay low when he stumbled across a request for mercenaries down in Yomenïampa. 50 crowns a head for unicorns was nothing to be sneezed at, in fact, it was a very generous offer given that unicorns were merely single-horned deer.

Some claimed that unicorns were symbols of purity and life, magical creatures that the gods favored. But so were swans, and no one in the city of Lomedor complained about eating a well cooked goose. Jaz had seen stags featured on the coats of arms of any number of nobles, yet no one batted an eye at the notion of eating venison. Some cultures even regarded cows as divine animals but no one ever saw the gods bringing wrath down upon tanners and butchers.

So, if some guy wanted a unicorn horn for a potion or perhaps just wanted some unicornhide boots, for 50 ducats a head Jaz was willing to oblige.

As the wagon train reached the designated crossroads, Jaz yelled at the driver to stop. Nodding to the fellow and giving the woman a polite nod, Jaz clutched his sword and lept over the side of the wagon to the ground below.

He checked the rough map given to him by the apothecary in Lomedor as he hiked across a grassy field towards the vast forests of Yomenïampa.

"It's got to be around here somewhere..." he thought out loud as he surveyed the area.

He would be late, but that didn't matter not to The Alchemist at any rate as he slogged on across the lonely plains. Nothing but his own most inner thoughts to keep him company he walked, his cloth boots tattered and worn out.
Blood seemed slowly seeped from their wounds as small fragments of rock and dirt clung to the fresh opening in his foot, and all the walking was making it worse.
He didn't notice it though, his body had long shut out the irritation from the wound with it's on natural pain supressants and a few bottles of "Ivan's ignorance" didn't hurt either.

As he walked he constantly checked around to see where he was going, what was around him and what was behind him. As far as he could see there was nothing, perhaps a small break on the horizon where a canopy of trees could be but at the minute he wasn't too certain.
His eyes weren't really hard at work, more his mind as he recounted the tale as to how he was getting there in the first place.

It began in Lomedor, The alchemical shop was the first port of call on his arrival into the city too check if they stocked the numerous and varied ingrediants he would need for his work.
The shelves were lined with vials of all sorts, eyes of newts, hairs of dog. Common ingrediants that The Alchemist cared little for, he would be only able to aquire simple and base ingrediants it seemed, with nothing but a small portion of disdain for the shop keep so far he approached the shop keep.
His cracked hands pressing against the wooden counter, a finger tracing over the knots and cracks within the timber.
The store keeper looked him over, uneasy obviously with the seemingly black veins beneath his skin so apparent as they were on his pale features.
The pair looked at one another in utter silence for a while before the store keeper finally spoke.
"Perhaps you might be after something sir?"
The Alchemist said nothing, he only looked around at the store's humble amount of shelves and then gave a curious look to the keep.
With a sigh the store keep shook his head, his jowels on his cheeks flapping loosely as he did.
"No sir, nothing more than what your seeing here. We don't stock nothing that might cause us troubles if your getting me here? Though perhaps the sign by the wall might be of some intrest to you?"

Having read the small notice on the wall The Alchemist made haste to the inn, The barman was of no use at all, he haboured no information than the prices of his wares. However the tavern wench knew peoples names, but before she could begin her life story and start complaining about this Mr Dresdan and his improper advances The Alchemist had turned away.
He found Mr Dresdan by the fire, slapping full ale mugs with some other folks who seemed dressed far above the station of the other locals.
A single tap on his shoulder drew his attention, a shocked face turned to look at The Alchemist with a horror stricken expression at his features.
"Yeah?"
Pushing back his hair from his face, The Alchemist responded.
"Your looking for something unusual i hear, i want to know where?"
A smile crept over Dresdan's face, placing his mug down on the wooden stool infront of him.
"You'll be wanting to head too the forest not so far from here, though i'd be warned there are a couple there already and one is of ebon skin. Got a few days on you too so they may have gotten underway already not sure."

That was all The Alchemist needed and took his leave of the inn.
That was how he got here, far away from the poverty and nobility the city and stuck out in the bountiful lands of nature.
As his mind switched off from thinking his eyes caught sight of the forest edge, unlikely as it was it still managed to creep up on him.
There by a boulder he saw a figure, checking his weapons breifly by patting his sides he advanced.

The howling of a Lupine could be heard for miles. A twelve foot nine lupine walked through the forest. His black fur made it impossible to see, and his size made it easier to stalk and kill. Today this lupine was heading for a unicorn hunt. Vahn saw a man a few hundred meters away with a war horse, and a man walking towards the meating area. It was a man patroling the woods for any wrong doing. Vahn slowly stalked the man, he grabbed the man and ripped off his head. Blood squirted everywhere. Vahn dragged the man behind him. Vahn made it to the camp and looked at the drow, he threw the man infront of him.

[[Sorry brain dead]]

Far ahead on the horizon, Rhyl'drin could see the small spot of a man approaching. He couldn't make out any distinguishing features, but something about him seemed... familiar, maybe. The Drow puzzled over it for a moment- perhaps it was the man's gait, or his way of carying himself, or the equipment he bore, but something about him reminded Rhyl'drin of Lomedor.

Just as he was about to get in good visual distance, another figure appeared. "Wonderful. Three should be a great number for a hunt." Rhyl'drin wasn't a stranger to hunting- during his apprenticeship as an alchemist in the Underdark, he'd been sent on plenty of expeditions to hunt down wild beasts for his master's recipes. The Underdark, of course, was a dangerous place, but Rhyl'drin was at home there. He felt completely comfortable there, even if all he had was the clothes on his back and a dagger. Here, he was a foreigner. Not only were many of the plants and animals unfamiliar (and therefore potentially dangerous), but there was also the threat of the Elven patrols who guarded the forest. They were more than dumb beasts- an intelligent, thinking person was that much more dangerous. If a well trained, well equipped squad came upon the party, the hunters could very quickly become the hunted.

Perhaps there's some diplomatic solution ot be had Rhyl'drin thought dryly. Afterall, not everything had to end in bloodshed. He didn't have much gold for bribed, but perhaps a promise of their future share....

Rhyl'drin leapt back in surprise as a body crashed in front of him. An enormous shadow fell ove the Drow as he raised his spear. It was a lupine, and an enormous one at that. For a second, Rhyl'drin almost leaped forward to attack the thing, but he restrained himself. The lupine had gotten the jump on him while he daydreamed- if the beast had intended to kill him, it could have already. Rhyl'drin lowered the spear.

"Perhaps you need reminding," he said gruffly to the enormous being, "that we're here for unicorns, not Elves." He stooped down to inspect the unfortunate patrolman. He was about as dead as one could be. "Then again... it will be nice to have you with us if we encounter any more of these fellows." He fished a small leather pouch out of the man's pocket.

"Happy chance," he said unenthusiastically. "Five gold. People never carry enough coin these days to make the effort worth it."

At long last, the half-elf found his way to the small encampment at the edge of the forrest. It was a relief to find the handful of individuals who seemed to be waiting; he had been wandering the area for several hours trying to find where, exactly he was supposed to meet this hunting party. Jaz reslung his rucksack as he advanced toward the group.

Jaz, accustomed to rough and tumble mercenaries as a regular facet of life, was hardly surprised to find that the pair of men deep in discussion standing near the designated large rock, while a large warhorse grazed in the grass nearby. One, a human, was deep in chat with another, who the half-elf could not exactly identify.

A massive bi-pedal wolf crashed through the brush and dropped a torn, blood-splattered corpse at the feet of the men. Acting on reflex as much as conscious choice, Jaz reached for his sword. He had heard stories of the so-called Lupines and their legendary ferocity. Not particularly different than minotaurs or Lizarians in that regard. But then, in an odd display of civility, the pair appeared to recognize the lupine.

Relaxing his guard, Jaz continued to move forward towards the hasty camp. As he neared their position, the second cloaked figure turned to welcome the half-elf. The sight of him made the hairs on Jaz's spine spike uncomfortably. Icy barbs seemed to flow freely through Jaz's bloodstream, and a wave of vertigo swept over the half-elf's mind.

Drow, it was said, were one of the most sinister races in all of Arda. Beings of the underdark, they crafted their evil plots against the dwellers of the surface, and used subtlety to bring this plans to fruition. Jaz had only met a handful of Drow in his days, and all of them reinforced the stereotype.

Especially the one with dark, crafty eyes that had assassinated Renald of Lomedor with a bottle of poison. The same dark, crafty eyes that connected with Jaz's at that very moment. Jaz's involvment with the dark elf was one of the half-elf's most well kept secrets. He would never forget that face.

The two had sworn not to speak of the incident ever again. To forget the whole thing and pretend the incident never happed.

Yet here he was, face to face with the man again.

Jaz stiffened momentarily, unsure of how to proceed. In the end, he shifted his attention uneasily and simply chose to speak to someone else instead. His eyes returned to the tattered hust of the Elven sentry.

"Great," he said in the direction of the Lupine, "But do you think you could reserve your more basic instincts for the hunt, please? Causal murder tends to draw the attention of the authorities."

The emphasis on the specific words were not intended for the Lupine.

"So. What are Robyn-Rin and Meester Big Bad going to do today?"

The pig in question blew a small tongue of fire from its nose, burning the vegetation below it into ashes. The lick of flame was blue and green. And purple. Very odd indeed. If words had been involved in the grunting noise when it made such a psychedelic looking burst of fiyah, it didn't reach the ears of any but a little undead girl who was nodding wisely. Whether at the grunt or at the fire or at the stream of water before them it was rather hard to tell. But her face seemed to speak words all on their own: "Indeed that's what we shall do Meester Porkington- that's what we did every day after all! Prepare to conquer the-"

There was a yowl, a scramble and a new undead kitty on the top of a tree and a dizzy dreadsnout on the ground, with a protruding bruise. The tree did not seem quite so inconvenienced. New leaves hadn't even fallen.

"Bad Big Bad, Bad!"

The porker in question was, for some inconceivable reason, chasing Meester Fluffington again. Well, not right now, of course. Right now, Big Bad was busy being dizzy. As well he should be! Robyn-Rin wouldn't have minded if Meester Fluffington and Meester Big Bad got along and played like the nice friend-friends they were supposed to be, but Robyn-Rin had had to replace Meester Fluffington's legs five or six times already. Big Bad did not play nice, oh no he didn't. If she had been particularly susceptible to those odd and whimsical things known as memories she might have taken into consideration the fact that she routinely dismembered the cat and it was a wee bit hypocritical of her to begrudge her favorite-est pig the same joys.

But Robyn-Rin wasn't particularly susceptible to this disease so the double standard floated on right past by her.

After a goodly while, she managed to coax the kitty-kat out of the tree and convinced (after stepping on an errant hoof one time. Or maybe repeatedly.) Big Bad to stop attacking his big brother, and off they went! They were going to go on an adventure! Robyn-Rin wasn't sure what the adventure was going to be just quite yet- but she knew it would adventurous! An adventurous adventure! Mhmm. In the back of her head, the Chef was complaining about poor vocabulary or something of the like but she paid him no heed. If the Figments were going to be all quiet and ignore her at every time of the day she'd ignore them right back! It'd teach them to be meanie-poohs!

Mr. Fluffington was acting all scared still and though Robyn wasn't one to begrudge cuts and scrapes from claws this particular shirt was a nice one and she didn't want to make Alice-Mommy go get more for her so she tried her best to comfort the poor thing.

I loff you... you loff me... we're a ha-pee fa-mi-lee...