It had to be some sort of trick. Really, the only reason Tithdaeron thought to go on with this plan was the fact that in his own mind, he had little choice. It was an inevitability, he supposed. One day they would be forced to meet, forced to match wits, and the outcome was one that Tithdaeron did not know nor did he relish imagining. Really, imagining it was nearly beyond the Chaos Elemental's ability. In fact, merely the notion of an imagination that contained an inkling of the thought was a hair's breadth from impossible.

Perhaps that is the reason it was meant to happen. Fate, decision, the stars, or one's own will may factor the events in any one's lifetime. All these things compounding together which ultimately comprise of the history and time of the universe. And in this history, this time, things were to be very different.

For, not often was it that the pupil rose to the level of the teacher. Or the guarded to gaurdian. And so it was to be for a time, due to the one lone constant in Tithdaeron's life. He was bound to his creator until death.

So, either way, he was screwed. Or so he thought. Yomenaipa, a stronghold of the elves and a city gaurded by a great forest. It was in this place that not so long ago, a medium sized group of all sorts ravaged the streets praising her name. The very name that caused even Tithdaeron to have fear in his heart.

And, even worse, was the name that followed it. The one person who took his master's attention away from him. Tithdaeron considered this person directly responsible for his loss of divine favor, the loss of his guild, the very foundation upon which his once menacing power was built. So true it was that nery but 1 other mortal in Arda was a match for him. Tithdaeron wanted that back ever so badly, and this was for certain an avenue to reach it.

The sacrifice was deemed necessary.

A messenger was sent out, to find him. Someone who knew exactly what to look for. Only someone with very privileged information, or an intimate knowledge of the subject, would have been capable of this task.

As the messenger walked away, Tithdaeron pondered killing him. Time enough for that later. What he had said was a bigger worry altogether.

---

"Tithdaeron."

Whirling about, katar at the ready, the chaos elemental was caught with surprise and aghast at the word. Who was this man? The bewilderment even stopped his kill reflex.

"I have been sent by your Goddess and creator to fetch you to her. She wishes an audience."

"Who are you!?"

The messenger said nothing, merely stared back. The chaos elemental's eyes quickly reflected on his confusion, a deep maelstrom of crimson to silver.

"That is of no consequence to you, Pariah. You will heed her command."

He had a good point. Regardless of who this person was, at any rate Tithdaeron only increased his chances of death by disobeying a possible direct order.

"Where do I go to meet her?"

"Two streets west of here, there is a small building of chestnut and dark brick at the crux of the alleyway's end and the city wall. Inside there, is a trapdoor to an underground area. She is there."


---

Standing in front of the door, Tithdaeron looked in every direction. It seemed that no person was watching. He could smell a foul stench creeping around the door. It smelt of disease. Was this some kind of sick joke? If it was, then it was quite a good one.

Oh yes! The Goddess of Chaos is a diseased near-corpse being! Ho ha what a funny that is!

Tithdaeron rolled his eyes, drew his katar and opened the door. Nothing inside but some chairs, a table, and a torn rug. Lifting the rug, the stench became ever stronger as a measly trap door was revealed. Dust rose off the ground, causing the chaos elemental to coughs slightly. This was ridiculous...

[OOC: Wooow, I keep trying to confuse myself with this timeline thing. Anyway, for my own reference, this topic is set in a sort of alternate plotline that can't really be placed in a specific part, though Ita's power level is between that of her Lomedor stop and Chaos Temple stop.]

The Ork Killer flowed freely amongst the raiders as song, dance and mostly-friendly duels rang out from the otherwise cold and lifeless basement. Grizzled lupines poured copious amounts of alcohol into their helmets, chugging it in a single massive gulp. A particularly vocal drunk leaned heavily on the back of his chair, ranting about his supposed accomplishments to an ork and warg, both appearing as though ready to vomit or fall unconscious. Pairs of warriors sang drinking songs to the beat of periodic but isolated brawls.

Lounging at one of the tables in the temporary underground retreat was the silent Ita, sober and eyes focused on nothing in particular. A pair of drunken raiders had wandered to her table to ask her a series of frivolous questions, though she ignored most of them to let them bicker amongst themselves. They seemed particularly passionate about an argument about which of them could potentially beat the Warmaster in an arm wrestling match.

"Neither of you, weaklings," she growled, gaze flicking from the two drunks to the door to her group's semi-secret temporary abode. It wasn't nearly large enough to hold the entire population of her soldiers, but served mostly as a place to relax and build morale in preparation for the next trip. Ita, however, would not leave Yomeniampa empty-handed.

On her way through the city she had seen a familiar-looking man in the distance. Rather than approach him directly, however, she sent the only sober raider she had within city limits to check to see if his identity was truly what she believed it to be. Ita would only be willing to wait until tomorrow morning, when she would be forced to send her hung-over soldiers to meet up with Charlotte's share of the forces camped out in the Grasslands to plan another big raid.

Within moments, the trap door above was swung open, revealing the characteristically familiar visage of Tithdaeron. The lupine grinned, dismissing the pair of soldiers and rising to her feet to face him. She was an incredibly lucky woman, having found another former key person to take under her wing. Tithdaeron's whereabouts had been just as unknown to her as Halrakka's; he could have been anywhere. But he was here, giving her a chance to bring one more powerful fighter into the fray.

"Do you like what you see, Tithdaeron?" Ita asked, moving slowly to approach him. Her voice just barely rose above the noise in the background. "By coming here you have implied you show interest in serving me once more. The chaos elemental desires nothing but pure chaos, does it not? These people around me are but a fraction of the power I hold; we roam the earth, my raiders and I, leaving death and fire in our wake. I sensed you in this city earlier and thought you might be interested."

A blatant lie, though intelligently crafted; he could find out later that Ita lead such a new lifestyle due to her desperation for regaining her immortality. By then, the creature would be routed so deep into her organization that he would have no choice but to continue aiding her find a means.

Of all the things Tithdaeron expected to see, there were many. Perhaps it was a simple dirt hovel, with Ita and a few guards or layabouts. Another likely scenario was the classic dungeon staircase. Tithdaeron liked dungeon staircases. Mostly for the reason that it was easy to kill any opposers on the way down, and it was fun to watch their bodies tumble down the staircase to trip up their comrades. Of course, there was also always the chance it was a simple hideout with some supplies and a place to rest.

But a whole bar area? What sort of nonsense was this? All about were drunken men and women, drow, lupines, you name it. The smell of alcohol, sweet and rancid, drifted into Tithdaeron's nostrils. He snorted briefly, showing his distaste for the state of affairs this place was in.

Thinking back now, the chaos elemental remembered what it was like to be a leader. The ability to control others actions. Tithdaeron did not like to have drunks under his command, but a few good soldiers who were ever honing the art of killing. However, as was the nature of chaos, all things were feasible and none were unattainable. This situation was quite mischievous, and Tithdaeron's own fondness for that soon overrode his sense of hygiene. The elemental smiled lightly.

A lupine stood among the crowd, which now had most of their eyes upon the new intrusion. Few among them recognized him, which was most likely better off. Tithdaeron had been labeled as a traitor by the forces of chaos ever since the Massacre of Estolad had taken place. Why this was, Tithdaeron never understood. But it was better that way.

Approaching him, she carried an air of authority and arrogance. She also carried an air of alcohol. However, it could just as well have been that her movement in the thick air simply pushed some of it over to one side of the room. She spoke, and was somewhat audible above the ambient noise.

"Do you like what you see, Tithdaeron?" the lupine asked. Who was this person? And why did she dare to say his name with such confidence?
"By coming here you have implied you show interest in serving me once more. The chaos elemental desires nothing but pure chaos, does it not? These people around me are but a fraction of the power I hold; we roam the earth, my raiders and I, leaving death and fire in our wake. I sensed you in this city earlier and thought you might be interested."

There was no mistake. This was Ita the Reckless. Although somewhat unfamiliar due to her seemingly smaller size and stature, there was only one person in Arda that knew Tithdaeron well enough to make statements like that. But what she said was somewhat confusing. True, Yomenaipa had seen some action, but the streets were still lively and all-around the city was in a decent state of repair.

Perhaps they had not gotten around to striking here yet, and were preparing? That must be the case. The chaos elemental had himself never found Yomenaipa an appealing place to kill things, mostly because elves did not seem to scream as loudly or bleed as much as humans do. But, any killing or destruction was good. Purity through chaos, and as of late, Tithdaeron was feeling weak without the power to render an entire civilisation of people in fear of himself.

Still one question weighed in heavily on his mind. "If you can know where I am, why is it you did not follow me to have me punished when set your hand against me?" he asked. Tithdaeron walked down a set of simple steps, closing the trap door behind him with a dusty thud. He was now standing but an armslength away from Ita. "That you have shown mercy is answer enough. Because of you, I have life. You know well that I am a weapon in your hand just as the mighty axe. But, I will take an order only from you and no other."

What he meant by the last sentence was clear enough to the pair. Tithdaeron had not an iota of tolerance for Charlotte, and the sound of her name drew him towards fits of rage. Tithdaeron knelt, and waited for his next mission.

[OOC: Gah. Sorry for taking so long Tith. >.<]

"If you can know where I am, why is it you did not follow me to have me punished when set your hand against me?" the chaos elemental had asked. Ita gave a brief snort, crossing her arms.

"They have turned against me." She replied simply, almost curtly, staring at her follower with the sharpness of a well-trained eagle; deep enough to come across at the very least goddess-like, though not nearly as soul-piercing as over seven months prior. What "they" were was fairly open to interpretation from the chaos elemental, though very specific in Ita's own mind. She had committed a horrible, unfathomably unforgivable divine crime, so perfectly executed it might have caught the Imperial Archangels of Aman off-guard. Might.

Banished from Aman, her temple in ruins; the fact was difficult to bear even after so long. Ita would only tell the chaos elemental of the entire ordeal when his soul was permanently tied to servitude. "I have been in hiding. But that is behind us now, and you will not question me further on the matter." The order was loud and clear, and she trusted the obviously obedient elemental to obey it until the day he died or she told him the truth.

"That you have shown mercy is answer enough. Because of you, I have life. You know well that I am a weapon in your hand just as the mighty axe. But, I will take an order only from you and no other." Ita nodded at the additional comment, pleased he was so quick to rally under her banner once more. The last statement repeated itself in her head, however. She moved it around briefly, extracting the underlying meanings through the etchings of letters upon the blackened, chaotic void of her mind. As the lupine beckoned Tithdaeron to follow her through the crowds of raiders, she replied.

"It is customary for one of such a chaotic nature to waver between loyalty and disobedience both to their creator and their superiors; that behavior in and of itself is simply a byproduct of one's nature as a follower of Chaos Incarnate. Sit," ordered Ita, stopping beside an empty table and pulling back a wooden chair for herself. "Though I will place you in a division commanded by me, there will be times that I will be absent and Warmaster Charlotte must command. If and when that occurs, you will answer to her. As it is my divine will, you should be compelled to oblige with loyalty unquestioning."

While her speech flowed with a combination of elegance and cruelty, she could barely concentrate through the images burned into her mind. The symbols had haunted her since her emergence from the Misty Forest all that time ago, permeating intense nightmares and even physical images (though the latter never were verified by others as existing when they happened). Beautiful in composition but inspiring nearly divine terror in her, the symbols themselves felt as though vaguely familiar but unknown; like a man you cross paths with every day on your way into town, but don't know personally. Awaiting the reply of the chaos elemental, Ita attempted with the greatest effort she could muster to force away the hallucinations and listen.

((OOC: Hey, no beef. :) ))

They? What did they mean? Were their some traitors nearby? The thought of a traitor caused Tithdaeron's soul to burn with fury. He knew how to deal with traitors, indeed. Even though Chaos by nature allowed for some measure of disobedience, treachery was another matter altogether in the creature's book. More specifically, any who erred on the side of order. To date, Tithdaeron had only to deal with one personally. However, during his hiatus he kept up well on events and learned that Lothlomendil may have been corrupting Ita's ranks. For what reason, Tithdaeron was not sure. The Goddess of Life and Death was mostly non-active when it came to the struggle between chaos and order.

What he did know was there was little he could do about it. At her own whim, it was easily within Lothlomendil's reach to have the entire realm, no, the whole univerese, disapear. Nobody irked the almighty Goddess and got away with it. Was that what was happening here? Tithdaeron reasoned he would find out soon enough.

This was only reinforced when Ita said she had been in hiding. Hiding indeed! Then it was true that she was avoiding someone more powerful than she. The thought made Tithdaeron slightly uneasy. The chaos elemental followed Ita as she explained to him that those of a chaotic nature were prone to turning against orders from time to time. Even the very notion of it had the whole word, 'order', scrawled all over it! Of course they would!

Becoming contented, now that he had reached a sort of accord with his creator, Tithdaeron sat down across the table from the lupine and listened carefully as he took in his surroundings in greater detail.

That was when the brick wall hit him, that name that nearly drove him to berserking. "Though I will place you in a division commanded by me, there will be times that I will be absent and Warmaster Charlotte must command. If and when that occurs, you will answer to her. As it is my divine will, you should be compelled to oblige with loyalty unquestioning."

Tithdaeron cringed visibly, sinking in his chair. His composure was slipping, as the facade of a well built male human slipped away in places. Chaotic energy poked out, and the storm within revealed itself in his eyes. The creature took a heavy breath, and then another. It was so difficult!

The elemental firmly beleived himself to be Ita's flesh and blood son. A direct creation of her, he had life only because she saw fit to save him from his old and decaying form. And then, after so long of doing only what she whimed him, he was cast aside, and that... that... warmaster was her adopted daughter!

His head snapped sharply over and he locked eyes with Ita. For a brief second, rebellion was the only tone Tithdaeron was capable of producing. The light show distracted several men from their drinks. And then, he calmed breifly. The missing pieces fell back into place. At the moment, it was no use. However, Tithdaeron concocted a plan in that moment to get back what was rightfully his.

"Am I not your own son?" the creature muttered to himself, almost sadly. "Your will is my own, creator. If it is so ordered that I accompany Ch... Ch... the Warmaster, then that is what I shall do."

Tithdaeron decided he needed to kill something. Lives would be forfeit this night, and the chaos elemental would drink of their blood. "Is there anything yet that you would have me do?" Designed as a killing machine, when at his prime the creature was capable of murdering thousands of men over a period of a day without help. His skills were best suited for assassinations and distractions, punishment or even reward. Truly a weapon to be feared.

"Am I not your own son? Your will is my own, creator. If it is so ordered that I accompany Ch... Ch... the Warmaster, then that is what I shall do." The lupine leaned back nonchalantly in her seat, content with the chaos elemental's answer. She had grown used to the hatred or even fear stirred up by the valkyrie and her command. Of course there were those who feared the tactician, but many even within Ita's forces despised her. It could be for a variety of reasons; sexism and jealousy were the obvious ones.

From what the former Vala remembered of the relationship between her two children, Halrakka of birth and Charlotte of adoption, it was not a peaceful one in the slightest. Halrakka looked down on Charlotte as a simple mortal not worthy of exaltation, and Charlotte appeared openly hostile, possibly fearing that the half-angel-half-Vala would become the next usurper.

Usurpation. A vicious cycle indeed, Ita quietly mused.

"I'm glad. There are some who do not realize the importance of the Warmaster's commands, deciding instead to ignore her plan and blindly walk into the jaws of death with the belief in their mind that they are carrying out my will. Luckily, those rebellious ones are quickly weeded out. Respect the Warmaster and you are in turn respecting me," Ita stated, leaning forward slightly to prove her point. While Tithdaeron would be a powerful addition to her army, he would need to be stopped should he ever rise up against those he was supposed to be serving.

"Is there anything yet that you would have me do?"
"I am now the head of a band of raiders. We are looking for something. You have a choice now: go, pack up your things, and meet us all outside the city gate at sunrise, or you may stay here with us for a while yet and have a drink or two." She paused for a moment to survey the area around them. The condition of the room had not necessarily improved since the pair had begun their conversation. Still the noise about them was near-overwhelming as raiders sung, bickered, fought, and conversed among one another. The entire place would be a wreck by tomorrow morning, but for now morale was relatively high as the lupine had intended.

"From there, we will meet with the Warmaster's group camped out in the grasslands. There is a place I have in mind for us to go, a ruin complex to the north, once we make further recruitments in Lomedor and Estolad. There you may prove yourself to me as you have many times in the past." He could find out all the details later; how Ita was no longer a goddess, and that the "something" she was looking for was actually a great series of objects. She needed to regain all the personal effects and everything else that could possibly bring her back to the godhood status she once had. Mashaka the axe, her armor, the Seldarine Board, among other things would aid her greatly. Even the creatures of Chaos once allied under Ita's banner needed to be rounded up; Tithdaeron, one of these, was certainly a positive start to a massive and extremely trying search.