Phedre entered the pub dripping from the pouring rain. It was midday, though the dark clouds swallowed the sun as if it were midnight. There was a continual splatter of raindrops on both the roof and the windows, which were growing foggy due to the large amount of people huddled inside to escape the downpour. Few turned their eyes to the door as the shadowy female entered, most too busy crouched over their drinks or drying by the large fireplace across the room. For the amount of people filling the inn, there was little convorsation and the clattering of dishes and glasses was audible from the attatched kitchen nearby.

Slipping her cloak from her head she revealed jet black hair that clung to itself in chords, it appeared the cloak had done little to repell the rain. Gently she gathered all of her hair and wrung it out, still remaining by the entrance of the door. Water dashed the floor like clear blood spatter. Shaking her hair loose once more, Phedre undid the clasp of her cloak and hung it on a full rack near the fireplace, before walking to the only unoccupied corner of the room.

Every table was occupied, but the corner held a sturdy chair, in which Phedre sat herself in almost immediatly. Yawning she stretched her limbs and flagged down a waitness who she was sure that the shadowing woman was another damp cloak. "Anything warm," she said to the barmaid gruffly, her dark purple eyes hiding her utter exhaustion. In truth, it was one of the first time in months Phedre could pull herself from her duties at the camp or at Raku's temple. It seemed to be a neverending escapade.

Mairi entered the pub, soaking wet because of the blasted rain.
she took off her cloak and hurriedly put it back on before anyone but her noticed that her shirt was wet and clinging to her.
She walked into the room, taking her hood off as she went, revealing her badly dyed black hair. It was obvious what color it had been before she dyed it--red--by the patched of red hair showing all over her head. Most people thought she did it on purpose, but she hadn't. Still, it was fine by her if people thought her hair was purposely dyed part red. She didn't care what they thought at all, at any rate.
She walked carefully over to the only unoccupied part of the room
and sat down near a woman who seemed to be MADE of Shadow itself.
....A servant of Raku perhaps? I've only ever seen someone so dark once before..and that was...years ago...
Mairi watched the woman without seeming to watch her, studying her carefully. She looked terribly familiar, she simply didn't know from where...

The barmaid returned quickly with a warm plate of food and a mug of something steaming, Phedre assumed it was some sort of tea. Not too worried about poison or anything else in her meal, she tucked into rather quickly, setting the plate on her lap, her boots resting against the back of a man's chair ahead of her. He turned just as she took a large bite out a turkey leg and began to chew. "Gettoff you wench!" he exclaimed trying to push her boot from his chair.

She looked at him, cheeks full with food, and with all of the strength he put into shoving her feet from his chair, she did not budge, in fact she barely wiggled. There was a flash of lightning which lit up the corner of the inn where Phedre rested. In the split second where the room lit up, Phedre eyes flashed amber and her pupils turned to slits. As soon as the light faded, her eyes were their normal dark violet. The man blinked, wondering if what he was was real, and before he could react, her boot was off the chair and heading for the side of his face. It made contact rather forcefully and the stranger hit the floor unconcious moments later. The two other men at his table jumped up and ran towards the door, exiting without even having pulled on their cloaks.

With a sigh, Phedre finished chewing, unphased, and swallowed, picking up her plate and mug as she did so. Stepping over the unconcious man she arranged herself at his now unoccupied table, setting down her things and returning to her meal, her boots now propped up atop one of the two other empty seats. The room had all turned to watch the commotion, but Phedre took no notice, she had already had another full mouthful and took a sip of the steaming tea.

Mairi watched all of this with an arched eyebrow.
More than she seemed, indeed.
She laughed to herself at the man's icantbelieveijustsawthat expression.
Mairi rather enjoyed changing the color of her eyes or the type of her eyes just long enough for people to notice and then inwardly laughing at their expression when she set them back to normal.
She watched as the woman sat at the peasant's now vacant table and stood up after a few moments to sit opposite her.

"Good evening, Madam. I believe I have seen your shadow somewhere before...May I learn your name?"She said respectfully. Hopefully she was a type who appreciated a little respect, instead of seeing it as sneering...

Oreius was always reluctant to make contact with humans and humanoids if he could help it. As a Centaur he had disovered early in life that some humans could be nasty, very nasty, when it came to other races, and Oreius himself had been on the receiving end to many racial attacks, both verbal and physical.

However, he was in a slight crisis. He had been in the process of riding across the mighty Grasslands when a huge storm had rolled in, probably from the coasts. The rain and thunder Oreius could handle with no real problems, but the huge fog which had descended upon the Grasslands in the storm's wake confused the Centaur's sense of direction, and he lost his bearings and was forced to make his way to the only apparent safety in the mists - the lights of the Village of Esthold.

Riding into the Village, he found the mist was not as dense there as it had been out in the wilderness, but his pleasant surprise soon turned to one of wariness as he gained dozens of suspicious and fearing stares from the Village's peasant occupants. There were other travellers passing to-and-fro, but they either ignored Oreius or merely hid their surprise at seeing a Centaur ride so willingly into Esthold.

His left hand on the hilt of his two-handed blade, just in case danger reared it's head, Oreius lowered himself so that his head was level with that of the nearest peasant woman, and asked deeply,

"Where, esteemed Mistress, may I engage the service of some directions? A map perhaps?"

The peasant woman, whether it was through fear or hatred, pointed to a building with the most lights coming out of it, and grunted before disappearing into her house. With a slightly disgruntled glance at the house she had entered, Oreius continued on his way to the building she had indicated for him. Recognising it as being some form of inn, the Centaur performed one of the few human customs he knew and knocked on the door.

There was no reply.

Knocking again, Oreius took a few steps back and waited some more. When nobody answered for the second time, Oreius walked back up to the door and called into it,

"I seek the use of a map or the Grasslands, I was told I could gain access to one here, good friend?"

Once again, there was no reply,

Now more than a little annoyed, Oreius let out a gruff snort of irritance and reared up on his hind legs, neighing loudly as he did. Fortunately, this gained a shouted response from within the building, which was indeed the Inn of the village. Unfortunately, the response was not friendly,

"We don't answer the door for you here, traveller!" the voice was of a shrilly female voice, "Tie your horse up in the stable and stop its neighing then come in yourself!"

"There is no horse out here." Oreius called back

"Oh really? We'll just see about that shall we?" replied the shrilly voice, and Oreius could hear the sound of approaching footsteps come toward the door and watched as it opened to reveal a woman dressed in clothes which signified she was the barmaid.

"Greetings, young Mistress. I seek the -----" Oreius began, but he was cut off mid-sentence by the barmaid retreating back into the Inn, which was exhaling small clouds of pipe-smoke and the aroma of strong drinks into the face of Oreius, who was unfamiliar with such smells.

"I said I seek the ------" he tried again, but this time the barmaid found her voice and called back into the rest of the building,

"Theres a Centaur out here!"

"Yes, I am indeed a Centaur, but you have nothing to fear from me," Oreius told her in his deep, but powerful voice, "I have merely lost myself in this fog and wish to -----"

The door opening all the way was the Centaur's answer, and his eyes fell upon a man stood next to the barmaid, a club hanging by his side. It had been him who had opened the door fully, revealing the large bar within, and gaining the stares of most of the occupants.

"We don't appreciate visits from you hybrids," The man said menacingly, "We request you leave."

"Good sir," Oreius replied to the man, taking care not to lose vigiliance over the club, "All I seek is directions."

"I'll give ye' some directions. Get out." The man took a step closer to Oreius who placed his hand out defiantly,

"I must insist you come no closer with that weapon," The Centaur told him, "I see no reason for this emnity."

"Go on, clobber 'im!"

"Hit 'im good, Bill!"

"Knock that horse-lover from his legs!"

Such were the calls and yells coming from within the Inn, and Oreius judged it was best for him to leave the dingy village and its unfriendly inhabitants behind.

"It is clear I am not welcome here, so I shall leave," Oreius told the man, "But I shall not forget this unpleasantness."

"Oh really? You shan't forget this either!" The man yelled as he swung his club at the Centaur's head.

Oreius gave a small leap backwards to dodge the blow, before rearing up on his hind legs and kicking the club from the man's hands. Returning to a four-legged pose and letting out a huge snort of anger, Oreius said in his deep voice, which despite his angry expression still seemed just as serene as ever,

"There was no reason for such an attack, and you forsake your honour in attempting it,"

The man, however, just sneered as a group of men turned up outside the Inn, and behind the Centaur. Looking behind him, Oreius realised he was surrounded by drunkards and fools, no doubt looking to pick a fight with anyone for any reason.

That anyone was Oreius. That any reason was the fact he was a Centaur.

Letting out a loud neigh of defiance, Oreius kicked out with his front legs, and sent one man hurtling into a pile of barrels, before back-kicking another into the Inn's wall. Before he could strike another, however, one of the other men managed to dig a dagger into his exposed horse's back, and Oreius let out a yell of pain.

Swinging back with his fist, he clobbered the offending human hard in the side of the face, before riding away from the rest of the men toward the Village Exit, only to be cut off by three men with axes running in front of him. Wincing in the pain from the thankfully-shallow wound, the Centaur surveyed the situation.

Oreius was in trouble, with at least a dozen or so men surrounding him, and he needed help. Looking into the open doorway of the Inn, he could make out some figures inside who had not joined the others in harassing him. Hoping that these were people who might assist him rather than hinder him, he called into the Inn,

"Some assistance here, would be appreciate, good people."

"Save your breath, horse-man," hissed one of the men surrounding him, "Nobody in there cares about you."

Oreius snorted at the man and gazed back into the Inn, hoping that, for whatever reason, whether selfish or selfless, someone would come to his aid in deterring the rabble he was facing from fulfilling their terrible goal of harming and probably killing the vulnerable Centaur. The only thing that was holding them from attacking at that moment the sight of his sword, but Oreius was almost certain that their fear of his weapon would not last long.

He needed help.

Mairi heard the commotion and stood up abruptly, transforming to a spider and crawling along the wall to reach one of the windows.
...A Centaur..? What's the big deal?
Mairi squeezed through a small crack in the window and jumped out silently, landing on her feet in half Elven form, next to the Centaur, claws drawn and spiked with Shadow.
Why am I doing this...?"Even if you do choose to pursue your Darkness, Mairi, remember this....Always love other races as you love yourself. Even if you don't understand them or they you. Always..."...Because I have to.
Mairi turned to the Centaur, prepared to fight for both their lives.
"Need some help?"

In all honesty, Oreius had expected nothing but to be ignored by the people still remaining within the Inn, but for one to leap to his defence so valiantly and request in such a casual tone if he 'need help?' could not fail to boost his confidence,

"I believe I may have found myself in a slightly tricky situation, it is true," Oreius replied to the newcomer, whom he could feel had a sense of power...or potential power....within her.

"Have 'em both!" The man who had originally attacked Oreius told the others, as he picked up his club and swung it toward the newcomer, Mairi.

Oreius did not manage to see whether or not the club made contact, for at that split second a man from the other side of the ring surrounding them had sprung forth with an axe, and Oreius promptly back-kicked him the chest, drawing the air from his lungs and forcing the man to collapse with breathlessness.

Judging his new-found ally to be a more than capable warrior herself, Oreius concentrated on the men behind them, leaving those in front to her. A hammer met its mark on his hipbone, and the poor Centaur almost collapsed under the force of the blow, but he managed to hold his own long enough to wrench the weapon from it's owners hand and smack the attacker in the head with it..

Rearing up on his hind legs, Oreius kicked down on a third man, before having a fourth leap on his back and cut at his shoulders with a knife. Shaking frantically, Oreius rode away from his ally into a nearby house in panic, losing control of his horse' legs as his body spasmed from the impact of the knife.

Fortunately, the force of Oreius shaking madly, dismounted the attacked from his back, and the Centaur unintentionally trampled him until his regained control of his legs, and the spasms set off from his nervous system settled. Looking around, he saw the other men had either fled of were engaging his ally, the Half-Elf. Oreius turned to try and assist, but found he could move very little with the cut to his shoulder and the stab wound in his side. Despite their shallowness, both wounds were still deep enough to keep the Centaur from making any sudden movements, and he could only watch as the Half-Elf dealt with her attackers, though he readied his two-handed sword to swing at any who broke away from her.

Mairi blocked the club with her claws effortlessly, and stabbed the attacker in the stomach with the other hand. He fell to the ground, screaming in agony, and convulsing as the Darkness that her claws were made of coursed through his body.
Two men came at her with axes a moment later...She watched for her oppurtunity, took it, and ran up one of them, flipping out of the way as the two men crashed into each other.
Three down...four to go.
She saw the Centaur run into a house, apparently wounded, and laughed to herself. All the better! More for me!She heard one coming up behind her before she saw him and flipped him over her back, slamming him into the ground, and slit his throat, taking satisfaction in the gurgling sound coming from him as he drowned in his own blood.
Mairi noticed that all had gone silent. She looked around her, seeing no one. Apparently, they had headed for their homes or back to the pub.
Mairi headed over to the house she'd seen the Centaur enter, and pulled her satchel around so the pocket faced front.
She entered the house and found the Centaur sitting there with two stab wounds, and a look of concern crossed her usually emotionless face.
"Are you alright? Let me bandage those wounds, won't you?"

Defiant and proud as always, Oreius found enough strength in him to stand up straight when he saw his Half-Elven ally enter and denied her off to tend to his wounds, pretending that he had suffered nothing, despite the blood running down the side of his horse' fur.

"No...it is fine. I am fine. Nothing I haven't had to deal with before.....though I appreciate your concern." He let out the slightest of winces as he moved his upper body slightly, thus causing his wounded shoulder to inflict more pain throughout his body.

"I thank you for your help, Mistress Half-Elf. I'm afraid I performed poorly in that conflict. I'm used to fighting on the open plains and forests. These narrowed streets of the Humans are a little daunting for me."

"My name is Oreius, Centaur of the Grasslands, tell me, Mistress Half-Elf," He continued as he led her out of the house he had collapsed into previously, "What is your name?"

Performing another of the few humanoid greetings he was familiar with, Oreius held out a hand, offering to shake the one of the female Half-Elf in front of him.

Mairi rolled her eyes.

"Stubborn to admit you're hurt, are you? Very well, even though you're bleeding alot.
My name is Mairi. That's all you need to know at the moment. You're welcome for saving your life."She said rather sarcastically. After killing 2 men, she was unbothered by fatigue or anything else. After all, such was her lot in life, wasn't it? To be an Angel of Death and Darkness to those who stood in her way?

"Oh, and I'm not Half Elven either. I am Atani. This is just my preferred form."

"I am not stubborn," Oreius told Mairi in what really could only be considered a stubborn voice, "I am merely.....ashamed of my poor performance in that fight. I struck merely five of them before being overwhelmed. It is embarassing to admit defeat to scum like that."

"And despite your sarcasm, I do indeed thank you for your help, Mairi," he continued, "I am never one to leave debts unpaid and I now feel I have a debt to you. With your consent, I would like to accompany you on your travels until I find some way of repaying you for your kindness this day."

He bowed his human-like upper-body, and his hair trailed down so it was hanging toward the ground, before returning to drape over his shoulders when he stood up. Realising he still had his sword in his hand, Oreius sheathed the large blade, and said to Mairi,

"I would find it an honour to travel with you, Mistress Atani."

Phedre watched all of this is silence. Thankfully she didn't have to answer a word to the young girl, before "duty" or so it seemed, called her away. Phedre sighed, finishing her meal slowly and patting her lips with a napkin when she indulged as much as she could. The man on the floor beside her began to rouse from his unconcious state and stammer random curses. Phedre watched him, the remaining contents in the mug still steaming in warmth. She rarely blinked, only gazed into the shadows of the akward man who now stumbled towards the bar. The barmaid was a wreck, shaking behind the bar, pale and nervous, her eyes darting back and forth across the room.

Slowly, the clattering for outside the inn slowed and bloodied and bruised drunkards returned to the inn, moaning in pain and cursing with frusteration, some exclaiming that they scared the centaur away. Phedre rose silently, still cupping the mug with one hand. She looked to the barmaid, who was watching her closely, and raised the mug, saying nothing. The barmaid began shaking again and simply nodded her head. Phedre nodded in return, whipped her cloak around her shoulders (oddly it had dried before the others had) and headed for the door, sipping the last of the mug's contents.

The rain had stopped. It was incredibly dark and humid and small droplets of water fell from the roofs of surrounding buildings. A nearby house had it's door slightly ajar, and Phedre's trained senses felt the presence of the two victors of the fight inside. Shaking out her hair, Phedre let out a loud whistle that danced between various notes. Instantly from around the nearest corner, a large hellhound bounded towards her, coat dancing with flames, illuminating the street. "Inside," she said softly, pointing to the door, "call me if it's them."

The beast nodded in an oddly human response, and crept towards the door, nudging it open with his flaming shoulder, but not burning anything. He illuminated the room instantly and sat as soon as seeing the two figures, giving a short, deep bark. A smile crept across Phedre's face and she followed her hellhound into the house, pausing when she reached his side, and boldly slipping her hand to his head, to scratch behind his ears, flames dancing around her flesh but never singeing it. The beasts eyes closed with comfort, but Phedre's eyes never left the two of them. One was seriously injured, the centaur, though the girl seemed to be attempting to patch him up rather crudely. "Successful to a point then," she said softly, her voice smooth and velvet, her eyes dancing their dark violet shade.

Oreius, as soon as he spotted the newcomer enter the shack, let out a warning neigh and stepped forward in front of Mairi, and asked in his deep, but not unkind, voice,

"Who are you?"

Despite the visual terror of his wounds, they were not that bad, and the bleeding was soon stopping, whether through his immune system or Mairi's tending Oreius did not think to find out. Right now, he was facing the newcomer and eyeing her cautiously, his hand falling to the hilt of his sword, now sheathed once more, and saying,

"If you are referring to those......barbarians.....who attacked me, then yes, we were indeed successful in driving them away. Now, I would appreciate it if you told me what you wanted?"

His mind was racing with what her answer was; Was she a friend of Mairi? Had she come to try and finish of the 'hybrid scum'? Maybe there was a bounty on Mairi? Or perhaps her intentions were perfectly innocent?

Whatever it was, Oreius was taking no chances and kept his hand on his sword-hilt, and stood up straight and defiant, his expression grim, but his eyes merely full of questions and cautiousness.

Rudraige flung open the wooden door and stepped out onto the wet street. He then erupted from the ground like a rocket and let out a terrifying roar. He transformed into his dragon form and scorched the earth as he did so. A small smokey crater was left were he had been standing. He hurtled through the air above the village at top velocity and the wind buffeted his face. He passed through the clouds and flattened out looking down on the village.
" What was I thinking! all I had to do was leave the room, but no you had to go and fight. couldn't resist. I had less trouble when I was a pirate! "
His golden scales glinted in the sun rays. He circled the village four times thinking about what he could have done better and noting his mistakes. He was ashamed that he had not been able to control himself . Every few minutes he would spurt out some flames and roar again. He kept circling until he calmed down and became dizzy.

He flew a few kilometres away from the village so he would not be seen. He landed in a farm and returned to human form. He only knew it was a farm because of the shrieks of terror from the animals followed by the voice of an angry country man telling him to get off his land. His boots were full of mud and he squelched with each step. His hands were rotten red, the blood was beginning to harden. The flowing waters of a stream caught his ear. He ambled over to the stream and soaked his hands in it. He had no idea of knowing when the blood would be gone except the smell would be lessened.

He trudged on back towards the town.
” well I still need a place to stay ....oh and I’ve left my bag with my coins behind...oh happy day"
As he walked along and people stared at him, after all he was muddy, bloody and talking to himself. He tried to think of the easiest way to go back inside and not be killed, assuming they had not already taken his bag and his small fortune. Then suddenly his foot met with the air and he was immersed in the sensation of falling. His hands hit the ground and he made a splash. He lay in the water for a while laughing rather hysterically. He climbed up the ditch and stepped onto the road. He heard the trundle of wheels and hopped on the back of a wagon. He knew it had entered the town when the noise rose and the smell worsened.

He needed to get cleaned up and warm, he could feel a great heat and assumed it was a fire, why it was outside he didn't know, maybe a house was on fire . Honestly at that particular time he didn't care. He headed towards the heat and found himself outside a house, he could hear people inside talking. Now weary of the people in this town he put his hand to his katana hilt and pushed the door.

When Oreius saw the second newcomer push open the door, his expression went from one of curioisity to one of anger and betrayal. Rearing up on his hind legs, he let out a great yell of frustration, kicked out with his front legs, though at no particular target, and landed on his hooves again, before pointing a menacing finger at the person, katana at their side, whom had just entered,

"Who are you? And what do you want?" Oreius' voice was still it's usual deep tone, though his expression clearly showed he was not in a mood to be messed with.

Not waiting for a reply from the stranger, Oreius drew his incredibly large two-handed sword, and held it aloft in one hand, as a sign of warning to both the female and the male newcomer. Rearing up on his hing legs again for the second time, he was a terrible sight to behold as a Centaur in full glory, stood high with sword held above his head, already cutting into the ceiling of the house. Crashing down on all fours once more, he called to his Atani companion in his bland tone,

"Mairi! Stay close! There may be more of these...people....outside. We can fight out way out."

But at the mentioning of a possible fight, Oreius calmed down slightly, and lowered his sword a few inches. Perhaps he had jumped to a conclusion far too early, and these strangers had no intention of harming himself or Mairi. Letting his sword hang by his side once more, but keeping his hand on it tightly, he relented and said,

"I...am sorry, strangers....I am a little jumpy in light of my previous conflicts. I'm sure you mean no harm."

The grip on his sword did not loosen however.

In Rudraige’s mind he could see the room. There was a great red fire and three figures, a woman , a man and a horse. He was perplexed by what could be going on. His heart began to race as he heard a sword being drawn.
"not another fight, I cannot bear this" he thought to himself. But he was relived when the man began to calm down. Rudraige stepped further inside . He released the grip of his katana. To be safe he thought he should play the innocent so he spoke in a kind but desperate voice.

"Please dear sir I mean no harm, put away your weapon I have mine only because I was weary of who might be inside. As you can see I am in an awful state and I merely wanted to come to your abode and bask in your fire and clean myself up abit. "
He took off his helmet and held it at his side
"May I ask what you are doing with such a large fire in your house, surely it must be a hazard and to bring your horse in with you seems very odd indeed. Are you in some trouble or partaking in a ritual of some kind?"
Rudraige wondered if the house was burning down and this couple were about to flee. Now that would be the icing on the cake of his day.

Something bumped Phedre's shoulder pushing her further a step. A male stranger emerged behind the tattered door. He looked a wreck, muddy, bloody and was speaking buffoonary to himself. Phedre's face darked as if shadows crept over it to lay on its surface. Her eyes blazed in annoyance, and her nose picked up the faint scent of a dragon. The blood splattered on him made her think only that he must have tried to slay one. Rage pulsed through her viens, her eyes flickered amber a moment.

With a slow inhale, all traces of any emotion was swept from Phedre's face, and her pink lips drew up to dance in a smile. "There is no fire here," it was true, the beast singed nothing he did not wish to. The hellhound growled viciously at the newcomer, the flames adorning his body growing both in heat and hight. He did not take lightly being regarded as an object, he was not fire, he was a fire tamer, a beast of hell, a vicous and loyal killer. His fangs were instantly bared and his muscles quivered, awaiting the command to attack and kill this intruder.

Phedre inclined her head a moment to the centaur and the young girl, smile still intact and spoke softly, "Forgive my rudeness," her voice carried like a whisper but was clearly audible, "I am Phedre." Word had spread since the rumor of war arose, of a shadowy woman with velvet black hair and midnight violet eyes, who was both incredibly beautiful and hauntingly dangerous. The lady assassin earned a reputation for herself long before she had grown in favor of a god. She was now often recognized as a second to Raku, Lord of Darkness, and almost unmatchable in skill by any mortal race.

There was a flicker in her eyes, and the smile on her lips grew momentarily. Hearing the slow inhale of the stanger behind her, she knew his position without having to glance his way. A quick movement landed Phedre's wrist purposfully heading for the stranger's neck. There was little patience and much less mercy for dragon killers.

Oreius noted mentally the expression on Phedre as she heard the way the blind man referred to her loyal familiar as a mere 'fire', but he was only semi-interested in that as his temper rose once more at being referred to as a horse. If there was one, single way to guarantee a Centaur's anger to rise sky-high, it was to refer to them as horses or mounts.

"I, Master Poor-Of-Sight, am not a horse. I am Oreius, a Centaur, and you will do well to remember it in future."

Taking a deep breath to try and stop himself from striking the man in anger and frustration, Oreius exchanged glances with Mairi before picking up a half full jug of water on a nearby table and downing the lot with remarkable speed. Turning back round, Oreius could only look on as Phedre snatched her hand outward toward the blind newcomer's neck.

In the milliseconds it took for her hand to move, thoughts and memories began flooding Oreius' mind. Even he, a loner for the majority of the time, had heard rumours of a woman favoured greatly by the Immortals, favoured so much as to have remarkable skills in many areas. He recalled accounts he had heard of entire bands of men found with the stomachs sliced and their throats cut. Such reports and more had led to even a lonely Centaur recognising the name 'Phedre'.

"It's her....." Oreius whispered so quietly only he and perhaps Mairi would have heard him, as time seemed to slow down and Phedre's hand began to close in on the newcomer.

Rudraige had taken a step back when he heard Phedre speak, quite understandably his sense had let him down and he had failed to notice this extra person. The manner in which she said her name suggested that she was of some importance or had a reputation, but Rudraige knew not of it.

"ahh a centaur I have never met one before, how rude I must have seemed " Rudraige thought to himself.

Just as he was beginning to think up an apology and give up his posy charade and reveal himself he heard the moving of a hand through the air from the person in front of him. Her cold hand made contact with his neck and his head jerked to the side. He was pushed back a few paces such that he hit the wall and dropped his helmet. He rubbed his neck and reached for his katana.

Phedre's hellhound lunged at the man's hand which moved to his katana, hoping to close his jaws lightly around the man's wrist to stop him from drawing a weapon, not to injure him. His flaming coat did not singe his flesh, but licked it's surface causing only a light warmth to rise over his skin.

"Answer swiftly and truthfully and there will be no need for weapons," she said softly her voice barely carrying across the room. "Why is there blood spatter adorning your being and what has it flowed from?" Her fingers eased slightly on the man's throat so he could speak in a somewhat clear manner.

Phedre's face never flinched. No muscle in her body quivered or wained, there was no sign of weakness but an obvious air of hostility.

((OOC- Sorry! Short post! I blame my exam tomorrow!))

Rudraige felt the heat move closer and he probably could have made an effort to move but with a hand clasped around his neck, fatigue setting in and with a slight dizzyness he didn't have much hope.The fire thing , as he was now calling it, was holding his arm in place but he was not loosening his grip on his sword. You could never be too careful.

Her voice was a contradiction to her manner, she was a woman of considerable strenght and who wielded some power over the elements but she sounded subtle and quent. While rudraige struggled wih this clash of personality he also began to think up and answer as fast as he could bearing in mind the wrong one could leave him wearing his own blood aswell. the situation was bubbling out of control. For a breif moment he considered becoming a dragon and bursting out of the room and shooting down balls of fire on these strange people the taught soon left his mind when he remembered the last time he set something on fire..."soo many lives..lost" he mumbled then proceeded with his answer. He said it hastily but kept it clear.

" This blood is the blood of innocent men who were caught in a fight i should not have let happen, this is the guilt i wear for my mistakes. As my sword as my weapon and mind i cut and inspect the damge after... he trailed off bowing his head and sighing.

Mairi watched all of this with an arched eyebrow(again). She stood by Oreius, claws drawn, ready to defend her new friend if necessary.
She watched Phedre threaten the man and smiled to herself. His reaction of mingled fear and respect was rather amusing, really. The kind of reaction SHE got after people saw her fight.
For all her small size, Mairi was actually quite strong. And just now she had no desire to start another fight. Fighting peasants was one thing, but fighting a total stranger, especially one like this shadowy woman, was suicide. She turned to Oreius and whispered to him.

"Do not attack. Such a move would be suicide for both of us, I know it. With the things I'm sensing off this strange woman, I'm surprised she hasn't killed us both already."
Mairi continued to watch for Phedre's response. At least she didn't seem to have noticed her, or if she had, she seemed to have forgotten about Mairi. Which wasn't altogether a bad thing. .....She'd never been good at dealing with people who threatened others anyway.

Nodding firmly, but not letting the deep frown on his face fade, Oreius excused the man for his blunder in judging Oreius to be a horse, rather than a Centaur. He then watched as the shadow-woman and her Hellhound dealt with the man in their own way, and could give a slight glance of questioning to Mairi.

When the man explained...well, semi-explained....where the blood covering his person had come from, and Mairi had whispered her warning to him, Oreius nodded once more and replied to the Atani at his side,

"I believe I know who she is. Not personally, but I have heard tales of one favoured by the Immortals. We should tread carefully."

Standing upright again, Oreius gaze fell upon the Hellhound. It's unfaltering loyalty to its mistress, at a first glance no different than that of a domestic dog, was disturbing. Hellhounds tended to be fiercely independant creatures, by what Oreius knew, and to see one so fanatically loyal to one invidividual sent a shiver up Oreius' spine. As a Centaur, he had every respect for creatures' freedom and independance, and he was slightly pained to see the creature.

Judging that it could not be undone, and that it was probably dangerous to try, Oreius merely straightened up his back and stood staring at the shadow-woman and the blind man, Mairi still by his side.

Mairi looked at Oreius without seeming to look at him.
Why had she been so eager to defend him after all of that? Why had she bothered to be there for a total stranger? What sense was there in her actions?
NO sense, that’s what.
...Her words ring in my ears even now. That I should love other races even if I don’t understand them....Does that mean I”m obeying my sister, even after her death? What does that say about ME? That I am willing to follow and obey someone even after they die and are buried??? What a weak minded position to take!
Even if it was good advice....
Mairi looked back at Phedre and the strange man. What a strange day this had been, All she’d wanted to do was travel a little, rather than being bored.....And she found something—someone!–Like this? Interesting, very interesting indeed.Maybe she was meant to find people who were different, as she is. Maybe...

Phedre's grip tightened slightly when she heard the stangers boring reply. Her hellhound backed away from the man's wrist and instead, sat at his feet, fangs beared silently. The short nails of the woman dug into the man's neck flesh as her annoyance grew. Phedre was near deaf to the whispers of the other two occupants of the room, her dark eyes focused on the tembling being before her.

She inhaled deeply through her nose, taking in his scent once more. "You smell a fair bit like dragon to be covered in human blood. Are you a slayer?" she spat the second question with distast, her grip tightening even harsher around his throat. It was odd to see the two others remain unmoving and rather silent. Most others would have tried to flee, even in such close quarters. No matter, Phedre wasn't worried, she wasn't out to hurt them, it was curiousity that lead her to follow them into the shabby building near the inn.

Awaiting the man's answer, there was the soft tread of four paws passing outside the door. The padding seemed to fade off, and then return, fade off, return. The creature was pacing outside of the door. Three harsh and vicious looking dog heads were visible passing infront of the window for a moment. It was a cerberus. Phedre smiled. It was her cerberus.

Rudraige could tell she didn't believe him from the sighs in change in her breathin pattern and the amount of force being applied by her hand. He hoped she would have believed the truth but once again he learned in this world lying is the only way, lying feeds the darkness but can save your soul for a time. Rudraige stopped his useless trembling ...the cowards approach was proving fruitless. Even mentions of his wrong doings seemed unpenetrating to this woman’s will. He was beginning to see how she might have gained such a reputation as to hush the brave and cause a gasp when her name is said. Despite this he was unfaltered.

Her next statement surprised him. How could she recognise a dragons scent .Even he a dragon himself only could smell the most odorous of dragons. However he had not spent much if any time with dragons to become familiar with their unique scent. Even his own dragon scent had become a natural smell for him. And then to accuse of being a dragon slayer...it was a dishonour. He may not fly with other dragons or even be a full dragon himself but he felt great pride in knowing he wielded the power of such a beast and took offence to her words. He was faced with the question was she a dragon too, which would explain why the fire creature obeyed her or could she herself be a dragon slayer. Could he take the risk if she was the latter she could probably sense he was part dragon and aimed to kill him.

He heard the patter of feet outside, she was ganging up on him. No matter how weak he had felt he would have to put it aside because now he would have to fight for his life. She was looking for an answer he needed to act swiftly .Hoping her arm would be stiff and tense from the hard grip she had on his neck, he knew one good hit on the elbow could break her arm, then he would deal with the fire creature...after all fire was his element and if anyone knew how to beat fire it was him. He swung his loose hand at her elbow, he was definite it was her elbow, all the training with the monks had given him the skills to fight even if he couldn't see. He could then dodge away and withdraw his katana and begin the battle.

Deep-set golden orbs had watched from a dark corner of the tavern. Watched as the seemingly-young female entered…watched as she quite easily made a place for herself. Watched as the younger female entered…along with the half-horse.

All of it had intrigued him, as the interaction of powerful beings normally did. And as such, the wolf (for it was indeed a wolf that the pair of eyes belonged too) had followed…and now watched through the open door as female and male squared off in an obvious battle of dominance. “Silly” was the thought that entered the wolf’s mind as he watched the pair. It reminded him of two cubs fighting over the larger scrap of meat. Yet, in this case, there was no meat. The wolf passed this off as yet another human behavioral oddity that he didn’t (and probably never would) understand…however…none smelled human. It was this fact that intrigued the wolf more than anything.

The wolf watched the action unfold and made no effort to conceal himself. Why should he? None of the four had noticed him up to this point; nor would they have any real reason to notice him. At the moment, he looked as would any normal human, excepting the twin golden eyes which peered curiously from their sockets. In truth, he made for an attractive human, standing just over six feet with dark brown hair that hung in wisps across his eyes. His clothing was nothing special…a tunic, cloak, and breeches which hung loosely about his form, showing signs of being quite well-used. While not bright or fancy, they seemed to suit the handsome figure, and complimented his form well, showing a toned and muscled body underneath. A rapier hung at his left side, its sheath seeming to blend in with the clothing. Few would notice the weapon upon this figure, and fewer still would count it any sort of a threat.

Shifting his weight ever so slightly, the wolf continued to watch the action unfold merely a few yards away from him, the post-rain wind tossing brown tendrils of hair back and forth… Slowly, he took a few steps closer, taking in the scents of those he watched, and affirming his thoughts of them. Not humans…And certainly not wolves.

Mairi turned and looked out the window of the house and saw something shadowy moving toward them.
...Is that a wolf...No, it’s a man and he’s coming this way....
Mairi morphed her eyes into cat eyes to get a better look, and was mesmerized by what she saw.
...He’s a man, that’s for sure...and he’s handsome...
Mairi felt something akin to a blush rise in her cheeks as she met the shadow’s eyes.
Such a pretty gold...And they glow....I wonder how....
Similar thoughts coursed through her mind as she watched the man get closer and closer to the house....

A change had been made in the scene laid out before him as a pair of crystal blue eyes met the wolf’s own deep golden. A grin slid slowly across his face, as his eyes regarded the other pair, as well as the rest of the young female to which the eyes belonged. Her eyes had widened, yet seemingly not in fear. To the wolf, the look that the female was giving to him was one of almost…admiration. He took another step towards the group and sniffed. Yes, admiration it was, as the young lady’s scent wafted to his nostrils confirming what his eyes already knew: She was in heat.

Morality: A human concept. A concept entrenched in most humanoid societies. A concept completely foreign to Garath. The wolf’s tongue darted out across wind-dried lips, an which appeared, despite being in human form, decisively wolfish. She was a pretty thing indeed, and probably quite willing. This day was looking up for the wolf, indeed!

Finally, the wolf tore his view form the pretty young female, and back to the competing beings. Perhaps I should intervene?, the thought drifted across his mind. Hmm. No, let them have their power struggle. I have no need to prove how much bigger my male parts are. And with that, he leaned against the open doorway, with still only the young girl noticing his presence.

Mairi saw that the wolf had seen her, and was now leaning on the doorframe of the house they were in, watching her.
Oh my god, he’s watching...he’s waiting for me...or....no, it’s my imagination. I...
Mairi looked up to find that the wolf’s eyes were staring right into hers.
....He IS waiting for me...But...How...Oh, ner. He’s a wolf. He can smell things a mile away....I wonder how I smell to him....
Mairi had to tear her eyes off the wolf to look back at Phedre. Not much movement seemed to be going on there..maybe....Oh, but I can’t leave Oreius, he’ll not forgive me for leaving him in such a situation. What a dilemma!
Mairi looked back at the wolf, looking into his eyes, hoping her dilemma showed in her eyes. Maybe he’d do something. Only God knew..

Oreius temporarily ignored the conflict amounting between the blind man and Phedre as he noticed Mairi's attention get distracted to something outside through a window. Taking a step to the side, knocking over a small table clumsily as he did, the Centaur realised who she was looking at and a thought entered his mind. The thought consisted of one word, and it grew as he made a mental note of Mairi and the wolf's constant exchange of glances.

Interesting.

Clearing his throat, Oreius addressed Phedre and the blind victim of her anger, asking in his deep voice, this time with a hint of tone that suggested he wished to be listened to,

"Perhaps we can resume this...interrogation at a later time, for I see we have a visitor."

He gestured to the newcomer, before leaning down to Mairi and asking in a whisper,

"A friend of yours?"

One hand rested on the top of his sword hilt, as a mere precaution.

Phedre let out a swift puff of air, seeing his muscles move, giving away his action. She blocked his attack and the hellhound jumped, attempting to latch onto the man's arm which was struggling to release his weapon. Thrusting her palm forward in an easy, fluid motion, Phedre aimed to break his nose, perhaps lodging some of it's cartilage in his brain. No one attacked Phedre an got away with it... few survived to speak of her revenge.

Meanwhile, her cerberus had stopped moving outside and was crouching in the shadows beneath the window. He had spotted the wolf -like intruder. With three heads and a body twice the size of a large dog, the cerberus easily dominated the wolf in size. A blood thirsty growl burned in two of the dog's throats, the third licked its lips in anticipation of a fresh meal, even if it was to be slightly cannibalistic.

Inside Phedre was deaf to the centaur's words and readied herself to continue her attack if the first attempt at a knock out was unsuccessful.

Rudriage was sick of this, it was a waste of his time and from the comments he heard the others made another was comming. He didnt want to have to deal with another opponent. Despite knowing what his attacker was doing he had a fair guess and ducked and rolled to the side missing her attempted attack on his nose and only just geting scratched by the fire dogs mouth. He arrived a metre or so away from the woman and another metre or so from the centaur. He flung out his sword with tremendous speed and power and held it out in front of him. The room was tense. He could sense it.
He put his sword back into its scabbard."dear ladys and centaur, if you want the truth you shall have it, i smell like not that of a human for i am a dragon. Though i do not look it i posses the ability to change into one. It is a great power but also a great burden. I do not wish to fight for although i am wounded i fear i will still cause much damage to your bodies. I do not wish to do so." there he said it. He took a deep breath and directed all his senses to the new guest listening to his moves and feeling the vibrations of each individual.