Arthur studied the print before him it was human but it was odd none the less. It was to deeply put in the ground as if the person had meant to stomp his foot print into it. Usually bandits were more carefull, it was odd and Arthur suspected a trap. He had always been good at tracking though mostly through having to hunt shadowspawn. When all else failed he followed his nose but now it was odd.

There were to few footprints and from what he had heard the towns people say there had at least been 200 bandits in the raid. Before him though were less than twenty tracks and that was odd in itself. Usually more numbers travelled these woods. They were dangerous even to the bandits that lived in them. Over the years their eyes had gotten use to the mist and could see as clear as day in it where others could not. Thats why hunters had a hard time findign them.

Arthur was diffrent he had dragon blood and nothing could hide from a dragons eyes if he was looking for you. He had been on their trail for a few days finding evidence that what they had taken was still among them. That was good he had said he would return it but now he wished he had taken the offer for help. He was a good fighter he had killed 16 dragons in one day where 100 men would have been overtaken by one. Now however things were diffrent his skills were still razor sharp but what he saw bothered him. He wondered where the other bandits went.


He did not want to be ambushed even he was not immune from hurt. Especially in his human form. Even with the Armor of Bloodshed on he could be hurt badly. Still Arthur had made a promise and he always kept the promises he made. Finally he stood and went off in the direction of the tracks. Carefully watching his surroundings for any sign of ambush.

OOC: Seeing as Dragonsong is now a defunct feat, you may want to get rid of it and replace it with the tracking feat which would give you the skills that you've described in tracking here. =3

IC:

It had been a long, tiresome day. And it was threatening to become significantly longer and more tiresome. Bandits were a part of the merchant life- it was something that couldn't be avoided. It was why merchants liked to travel in groups- safety in numbers and all that hooey. After the merchants managed that, bandits, pirates, thieves and robbers started copying them. Then the merchants hired mercenaries. The opposing side got more bandits. It was a vicious cycle. And also an expensive one.

Unfortunately for Abhorrlen, an aspiring master merchant and single-man (or uruk-hai, as it were) business, he had been traveling alone. Hiring bandits that had lucked out and become respectable was not his idea of a good investment. That and the Starrises disagreed with spending absolutely more than necessary in either purchasing a specific product or protecting their investments. And as might be expected by Fate's usual modus operandi, he had met up with a bandit force that was clearly expecting (or had already jumped) a significantly denser population of merchants or villagers. After a hurried, almost laughing debate, they had talked each other into 'hunting' one poor fool even if he was an uruk-hai. He had no doubt they were insulting his race as well but he hadn't bothered to listen. It was best to run when people were calling dibs on your gear.

So he ran. He wasn't particularly fleet of foot but his wares had been sold and his money was definitely lighter than their armor. He had also walked the breadth and width of Arda several times- or at least what felt like several times. The calluses on his feat had been hard-earned proof of his durability and he had managed to keep the chase entertaining- or so he assumed by their winded laughter. If only he could lose them... or find someone to...! To...!

"Bandits!" The uruk-hai shouted, hoping, beyond all logic to the contrary, that there would be someone here that could help him. "Bandits! Help!"

Arthur followed the tracks a good while longer and often times other tracks crisscrossed with the more human woods. They were fresh wass what really mattered. Arthur looked around a bit trying to guess what might be going on or if this was just one big old wild goose chase. Arthur was not worried particularly about it, but he wanted to get this over with.

Arthur finally heard something in the distant he sounded like shouting and the falling of hurried feet. Arthur drew his sword and shield and put the helmet upon his head. The blue eyes beneath then began to glow red. HE then ran through the trees toward the sound. As he ran he heard a shout of help and bandits obviously from a mans voice. Arthur hurried his run and finally caught up to the running and shouting.

HE saw someone run past and Arthur popped out of the woods sword and shield ready on the path as twenty bandits came into sight. They stopped at the sight of him obviosuly afriad thinking some demon had decended upon them. WIthout hiesitation Arthur went in and there were shrill cires of death. Arthur moved among them like a demon killing them without though or mercy. Soon all but one of the bandits lay dead the other wounded but he would survive. HE turned to look at the man who had been running and saw instead a half-orc. Arthur readied his sword and said," Why would an Uruk-Hai be running from some bandits, last time I checked they didn't run from anything".

It was only when Abhorrlen had stopped running, having slammed and tripped over a protruding root in his panic that he realized he was no longer being pursued. The cries that he had mistook for excitement had become- warcries? Cries of death? The orc blood pounded in his ears, made him see red. For a moment, he could taste the bloodlust, the old blood that had come straight from the ancient and famous fighting uruk-hai. It was a need, a perversion of the desire to create into a desire to destroy. Destroy the bandits. Destroy the warrior. Destroy oneself... It was a need that had transformed his clan, made them feared beyond all others- or so had claimed his father. That it was a dark git from the darkest of gods was impossible to doubt. Such a need had made him fearsome, once upon a troubled time.

And as with all such things, such a need had turned him into a snaga.

A burst of magical clarity righted his thoughts. He could hear the phoenix song again, crooning its melodious warble as it covered the noise of death and soothed out the thoughts that would turn him into a savage, a monster, a-

"Enough." The uruk-hai said tiredly. "Enough." He banished the effects of the geass as his blood calmed and thickened. Mind magic was always tricky, and those who had turned him into little more than their slave had imposed strict limits.

Clarity, his mind was back. And yet, despite that, the uruk-hai merchant found himself inching back towards the battleground, towards the cries of death. His homespun shirt and simple trousers were no match for the leather and steel that the bandits wore- and no doubt less a match for whatever had stopped them. Was it curiosity that pushed his hand to brush aside twigs and leaves to catch sight of whatever elusive thing had stopped the bandits. He had no doubt it was a single thing- no matter his panic, the half-orc found it terribly unlikely that he'd miss an entire troupe of warriors.

He was right.

It was a warrior. Powerful beyond belief to be carving up so many bandits so easily and so... so routinely. His armor was magical, highly so, weapons seemed flow off it with a staggering frequency... but still. Still. The numbers would have to slow him and...

"Incredible." The half-orc breathed.

Aiden secured his bow across his back as he walked through the Misty Wood. “Aptly named,” he muttered as he moved through the thick mist, watching his step every few seconds to make sure he had not veered off the worn path. ‘Just a few more days until I’m out of this place…I hope,’ he thought to himself as he continued on his lonely journey. He had been walking for days across the land when he entered this place, not realizing what he was getting himself into when he did. By the time he realized he was in the famed ‘Misty Woods,’ it was far too late to turn back. His only hope was to find some way out of this mysterious place before he fell prey to some odd and unknown danger.

Seemingly for the thousandth time, Aiden straightened his bow on his shoulders, keeping an eye on his surroundings, looking for any hope of an exit or any hint of danger. As he walked, he suddenly began detecting the distinct scent of…well, people. Namely, people who had not bathed in quite a while. “That’s odd,” Aiden muttered, wrinkling his nose. As he looked down, his eyes widened in both excitement and suspicion as he noted the numerous tracks littering the dirt path before him. “A band of some sort,” he muttered, stooping on the ground to get a better look at the tracks. “Headed north…I guess,” he said, remembering that he could not really tell any direction in this thick fog. Looking further up the path, Aiden saw that the tracks led into a thick patch of vegetation.

“Hmmm….,” he said, standing up. “I guess I could go that way if I stayed hidden. Hopefully these are the tracks of a group of good people.” As he began walking towards the grove of trees, a sudden shout could be heard in the air.

<Help! Bandits!> the voice shouted in the distance. Aiden’s head shot up as he picked up the pace towards the patch of trees.

‘It didn’t sound too faint,’ Aiden thought, breaking out in a jog as he brought his bow to his hands. ‘I hope I can get there in time…’

********************

Aiden broke through the line of trees into a smaller grove of short bushes only to see a gory scene of carnage and death. His eyes widened as he noted an armored warrior tearing through a moderately sized group of armed bandits, his sword seemingly in an unending dance as it tore through the leather and flesh before it. ‘Impressive,’ Aiden thought, putting his bow down for now, but keeping it in easy reach. Just as soon as the carnage began, it ended. The sound of screaming still echoed through the silent grove of broad oak trees. A chill wind blew at the end of the battle, seemingly nature’s way of signaling that the massacre was complete. “One warrior,” Aiden muttered as he stood up, in clear view of anyone nearby. He stepped out into the blood-soaked clearing.

< Why would an Uruk-Hai be running from some bandits, last time I checked they didn't run from anything> Aiden could hear the man’s voice despite his distance because of the direction of the light breeze.

‘An Uruk-Hai?’ Aiden thought, bringing his bow to the ready. The last time he had met an Uruk-Hai, it wasn’t exactly on the friendliest of terms. Although this didn’t seem like the time for introductions, Aiden stepped forward and cleared his voice loudly. “Although it certainly doesn’t seem like you’re in trouble, would either of you happen to need help defeating any more of these bandits….should they appear again after this?” He paused before continuing, “My name is Aiden, an elven ranger who just happens to be lost in these woods. . .”

Arthur heard some come through the woods he prepared his sword for anything. Instead of danger it was an elf. Arthur lowered his blade and began wiping it off on one the dead bandits coats. Blood stained swords and sometimes amde them rust. Arthur knew this sword probably wouldn't but he couldn't take cahnces. HE was not worried about the elf if it had wanted to kill him it already would have.

The elf then said somethign about helping him kill any more bandits and such as that and about being lost. Arthur laughed at that and he laughed hard. He had never heard of an elf getting lost before especially not in the woods. As for beign a ranger that was doubly funny. Then Arthur said," Your kidding right an elf ranger getting lost in the woods, thats got to be the most absurd thing I ever hear".

HE then straightened and said in the elf language." I could use some help, about 180 more are out there, took a few prisoners from a village". HE then paused and looekd at theelf it looked like he could use that bow but what if a sword was required. HE then said in egular tongue," I am Dar'Vaeg, though the elves know me as Arthur the Elfriend, you may call me Arthur just the same".

Does he know I'm here?

There was all manner of possible explanations for why the elf- what hole had the cursed point-ear crawled out of?- knew that there was an 'either' in the midst of all the carnage. Perhaps the warrior had mentioned something, something too low to be heard by the uruk-hai merchant semi-hidden by the greenery but nonetheless understood by the elf with his sharper senses. Perhaps the elf was talking to someone else- someone that Abhorrlen had failed to notice. Perhaps it was even simpler- the might be unfamiliar with common- it was an easy mistake to make.

...well, maybe not so grammatically. But it could happen!

There were tales of elves besieging uruk-hai caravans and while most of them had probably deserved it, being a war party turned into fleeing mass of flesh and bone- there had been true atrocities committed against noncombatants. The elves tended to have a rather strict view on what was 'clean' and what was not. Uruk-hai had never, so much as Abhorrlen was aware, fallen in the category that was not akin to rats in a barrel. There was just too much animosity between the two races, an animosity many of them rather enjoyed. It was a nicely vicious cycle, much like merchants and bandits.

Course' all that thought being done and made Abhorrlen was still uncertain whether or not the elf would put an arrow through his eye (or foot- he wasn't particularly keen on learning if elves preferred to play with their prey or not as he had been told by others who might have experienced war and hoped it was the eye) the moment he moved away from cover. Now would it be more suspicious to stay quiet and out of the way, or to move away? No one would believe that an adult uruk-hai (and male to boot) had run from battle and was running from two lone combatants.

Which was exactly what Abhorrlen was planning on doing. Save that he was not too sure how he would manage it without dying a brutal, gruesome, fun-filled death.

"Well drat." The merchant muttered under his breath. With a quick glance backwards and a prayer that the elf would not aim at his posterior, the uruk-hai quickly began crawling away.

<Your kidding right? An elf ranger getting lost in the woods? That's got to be the most absurd thing I ever heard.> Aiden's eyes glinted as he forced himself to stay calm at the slight insult. 'Elf friend eh?' he thought, eager to continue a civil conversation. "Well Arthur," Aiden said, "It's easy to get lost in the woods if you're not familiar with them. I myself have never been to this area before, so you'll have to excuse my momentarily lack of path finding skills." He paused and thought for a moment before continuing, "If there are about 180 left, then I'm assuming they have split up into much smaller groups like the one here. I certainly didn't see 180 tracks on the path leading here. I'm somewhat surprised as to how so many can stay so well hidden."

Aiden was about to continue when a sudden soft bristle in the nearby vegetation caught his attention. Walking forward a few steps, Aiden could make out the large and familiar form of an Uruk-hai. 'Running away?' Aiden thought, truly intrigued. 'He's done nothing wrong I don't think. I thought Arthur was helping him.'

Clearing his throat, Aiden spoke loudly at the fleeing form. "Are you going somewhere? I wasn't planning on attacking you if that's what you were worried about." Pausing for a moment, Aiden stepped forward again, returning his bow to his back and raising his empty hands. "Do you need help or something?"

Arthur smiled and shook his head at the elf he doubted he veer heard an elf say he never knew a wood. From what he knew elves knew every forest in Ea like it was their own body. The elves loved forests so this one must be a strrange one then. HE then said," No offense meant, I just never yet met an elf who did not know a forest".

HE then said," They split up alright, and they can stay hidden, this place ois vast and hard to see in, so its pretty easy to stay hidden here". He heard a sound behind him and expecting another attack he readied himself but not attack came. Only the smell of Uruk-Hai. The elf spoke into the bushes and Arthur could almost make out a form.

Arthur sheathed his sword and put his shield behind his back but did not remove his helmet. He waited to see if the Uruk-Hai would come out and prove to be the merchant. Arthur then said," If its the one htat cried for help perhaps its worried, if not well, the dream has to end sometime, even for one like me".

The uruk-hai couldn't see the open hands due to the fact his rear end was the only thing pointed in the direction of the elf and promptly (because it was much nicer for his poor, tired, worn-out brain to do so) pretended that he either hadn't heard the elf speaking directly to a perfectly well hidden and firmly concealed uruk-hai. He was, of course, instead speaking to the crazy warrior person with the hideously powerful armor. Goddess-blessed- he'd seen it before... what was it called? Bloodforth? Bloodnguts? Something along those lines. The lupine goddess had never been a particularly nice goddess. Whoever dared to wear her armor probably dared not to pretend their allegiances. He was probably another battle-hungry hero, not even on the level of a mere soldier who, at least, had a duty. A responsibility. Heroes were... heroes were disruptive. They didn't see the agony left in their wake- the delicate clockwork mechanisms that shattered due to their passing.

And while Abhorrlen had once loved the taste of battle that was far, far behind him now. He had just narrowly escaped death and was on his way to permanently escaping it. Yes, that was right. He could-

A rather inconvenient thought- like most inconvenient thoughts- creeped and crawled through the spaces between his brain. A small, almost harmless, what if. He froze- his brain could work rather quickly while hopped up on panic- and thought. If the elf knew he was here and was talking to him and if the ridiculously powerful warrior also knew where he was and neither of them had attacked it was probably because they were preparing to attack. And if they were preparing to attack and he was crawling away they would call his actions 'suspicious'. If they reported his death at all which he wasn't convinced that they would do, regardless of their supposed morals. Or at least the elf's supposed morals. The warrior freak certainly did not seem to leak even the slightest trace or degree of sympathy.

"The dream has to end sometime..."

A threat? Was that a threat? Were they trying to be subtle? He hadn't thought the warrior was anything close to subtle and that was even *more* worrisome. Artists were dangerous enough- one whose medium was blood was worse than insane.

He slowly (veeeery slowly) turned and raised his hands. "I'm just a merchant!" He squeaked- err, tried to squeak, his voice still came out rather baritone- "don't kill me!"

Shame should have burned at him but vanished into the whirling confines that was the geass.