I'll get right on it Captain... however... I believe the prophecy said something about birds as well, and our name certainly works.  Perhaps just reading it on the side of the ship is enough.   

Although perhaps Kennedy could work up some holo feathers...  

M. 

I mean my character has done... *scrolls back through her posts* um... well... she's gone on a date, done some work on a side project and is currently taking a plant on a walk in the bar... 

But... my NPC's have been very important!   

Can't wait to get to this meeting!!  I've been holding onto Ken's response for a week now!  It's killing me!  And it might actually result in non-fluffiness!   

M. 

He slipped himself beneath her blankets, then, and curled himself against her back as his arm slipped around her to cradle her against him. “Rest now, lirimaer. Tomorrow is another day, yes?”

There was a soft sigh that came from her then.  Her hand reached up from her side and curled up around his and very gently her head nodded, just enough that he thought she might have actually heard him.  However, her eyes never opened and the next moment she was perfectly still once again.  It would prove to be another two hours before she finally began to actually stir.  

The first hints of dawn were painting their pale pink hues on the world when her fingers began to gently caress over his.  

“Amin hiraetha…” a feathery whisper escaped from her as she pulled his arms a bit tighter around herself.  

“Nothing to be sorry for, Cay,” his voice sounded sleepy… comfortable… as his reply whispered over her ear, “I’m just happy that you’re okay… I was… worried.”

“I don’t even recall all of what I said to you… but… I feel I should apologize at least a little for trying to attack you.  And… that wasn’t in the plan, the elf…”  she sighed.  “I didn’t mean to… to screw things up.”  she huffed a little. 

“Mmm. I did tell you to be careful,” he half-snickered, his fingertips playing teasingly at her belly, “Maybe one day you might listen to a point-eared hwandi, yes?”

She shifted a little so she could bring her bright amber eyes to his, they narrowed and she brought her hand up to his neck.  Her fingers graced across his skin lightly, but there was a static tingling emanating from them all the same.  “Be careful… you saw what I did to the last point-ear who displeased me.  And he was several feet away when I did it.  Think what I could do to you from this distance…”  

At the electric prickle that shot through him at her touch, Nyx’s eyes came wide open and he blinked at her in (mock?) admonition. After a moment, the look softened, and he smiled softly; “I prefer what you do to me up close, elen en cormamin.”

The tingling sensation stopped and she nodded, offering a small smile, before laying back against the blankets.  “It was too easy…”  she frowned a little and looked up at the roof of the tent.  “He just… came up from behind me… and then…”  she shrugged a little.  

A soft sigh whispered from him at that and he scootched closer, gathering her in his arms again. “I understand,” he whispered, “some of my first kills were just as accidental… just as unplanned… Would that I could tell you that those become easier, a’maelamin...” He turned his head and pressed his lips to her forehead as his fingers tangled themselves languidly in her hair; “...They do not. Even after all these years.” A somewhat morbid chuckle escaped him then. “The purposeful ones are simple enough,” he muttered, “those are nothing more than business, now. Even those threads I’ve cut on the way to taking the one I was sent for seem nothing more than inconsequential… bumps in the path, hm?.. But those random happenstances…” another lingering sigh “... I understand, love.”

His words made her pinch her eyes and then she shook her head.  “No… n’uma… I don’t think it’s remorse, or feeling some moral quelm… you saw the body didn’t you?”  she looked over at him.  

“I did that.  In an instant, from a distance of several feet, Nyx.  His head nearly popped off…”  She bit her lip and then continued.  “All I did was turn my wrist.  It’s… overwhelming, that feeling…”  her voice darkened a little and she pulled her eyes from his and back to the top of the tent.  “I was worried about you, I didn’t know where you were and if perhaps someone else might have seen us.  I panicked some, it wasn’t in the plan and it could have brought problems for you… for me… I was scared.  Which I didn’t enjoy.  It was confusing.”  She frowned. 

All I did was turn my wrist… The words echoed in his mind, coaxed long forgotten memories forth, and suddenly, he was standing in that cave in Shanurdir with Jolbane grovelling at his feet… All I did was turn my wrist… and let my elbow free… and then Jolbane’s head bounced from my toes… his non-seeing eyes staring up at me from the dark… a whisper in my mind… and the Executioner had me.

“I know,” he muttered, almost in less than a whisper, remembering the dream she had described to him and the last promise Prien had made him. He dared not turn his eyes on her, just then, but, still, allowed his fingers to toy over the skin of her cheek and play in the hair at her temple. “I know,” he whispered again, pulling her tighter against him as he turned his head to press lips to her skin. “Let it go and think nothing more of it, melamin, I’ll see to it that you need not have to make those choices again, can I help it…”

It wasn’t a promise he could keep, he knew, should she have fallen unaware into Prien’s thrall, but, at the same time, the words Taellyn had uttered to her… Atta’llie tengwe elen… resonated in his mind... 

No gods hold you and I in sway, any longer, Cayrimisa, he thought, and, should you kill me, it will be in the throes of passion and not because the Executioner calls for it. Amin mela lle.

...He nestled her closer, still, and pressed his lips to her skin again. “I speak nonsense,” he murmured, “I am sorry. I cannot compare your experiences to mine and, from now forward, I will not try. Just know that I am here to listen, yes? Regardless of what you do… in the throes of hera or otherwise, hm?”

She gave a slight shudder at the feel of his lips against her skin again.  “And next time I won’t be caught so unawares… this is a journey we’re on and I am learning as I go.  It helps to know that you are there when I burn out like that.  I know you are there…” her fingers began to trail along the lines of his biceps.  

“You make me feel safe…”  whispering as she turned her head and searched out his lips with her own.  

“And this is all I want, yes,” he purred, capturing her upper lip between his own, “To make you safe… for you to feel  it…” He let go of her upper lip and turned his attention to the lower, then “...I came this far to find you, Cay,” he sighed, pausing in his attention to her mouth to say so even as his hands refused to pause their attentiveness to her body, “nothing will keep me from that, now.

Nothing,” he reiterated cradling her face in his hand and tipping it toward his before hungrily kissing her.

Mayhem he’d said.  She felt rather confident that she could manage a little mayhem, and with little risk of a repeat from the other night, small spells could easily produce the desired effects.  Quietly she slunk through the tall grass of the meadow, letting her shadow meld into the other hues of black and grey as the gentle breeze ran through the weeds.  The nightly sounds and smells of the large camp came to her first, then as she crawled closer she began to see the finer details of the camp itself.  

Just as she had suggested to Nyx she approached the far cart.  Nearby it a cluster of horses had been tied up.  A handful of plain colored tents had been erected on the other side of the cart.  Elven voices drifted over the breeze to her and she knew that what she was looking on where Olsta’s slaves, tending to whatever tasks he had assigned long before they could tend to their own needs for the evening.  A familiar twang of disgust welled up inside of her, but she pushed it away, she would need to focus on the task, not on her personal feelings.  

Her first target, she had decided, would be the cart itself.  Carefully she glanced around in the darkness that surrounded her, pausing to really take in her surroundings and make sure that she was indeed alone.  Once she felt that she was not being observed she rose up onto her knees so she could see over the tops of the grass.  The palms of her hands rubbed together swiftly for a few moments, warming her cool fingertips.  Then she pressed out with her hand, a soft whisper falling from her lips as she focused on the canvas tarp that had been pulled tightly over the arching ribs of the cart.  As she dropped her hand the rope tying it on had snapped and began to quickly unravel itself, the tarp began slipping off its moorings and flapping about.  

“A good start I believe…” she muttered to herself and then began the hunt for her next target.  

A campfire with two figures huddled around it caught her attention.  Another push and a whisper and the fire blew out suddenly, the flames reaching up toward the sky for a brief moment before quieting back down to their more manageable size.  A cry rang out as the flames crawled higher, one of the figures danced backward clutching at an arm.  A little smile lingered on her lips.  

Her amber eyes danced about searching gleefully for yet another target.  The tents seemed like a likely possibility, upon careful consideration, though they seemed too easy.  She was finding that she enjoyed this.  Already the undressing of the cart had been noticed and a few figures moved around it trying to discern what had happened.  

Fingertips lighted over her lips, tapping slightly as she considered.  “What next to do?”  

It was then that she noted the laundry line drawn between two of the tents.  Grinning she flicked her fingers in it’s direction and suppressed a chortle as the clothing rippled on the line and then flew off of it.  One piece landed on the fire that she had flamed only minutes ago, while others flitted down into the dirt.  “I do hope that was one of Olsta’s finer garments…”  

They were largely childish pranks, she admitted, but tonight was more about seeing what was the state of the camp than it was to actually impose difficulties on the train, the difficulties would come later.  Glancing over at the horses, though, she found she could not help herself one final act of mayhem.  Her hands rose up once again and she pushed forward, the already unbalanced looking log that the horses had been tied to split up the center.  The horses reared up from the noise and then noticed that they were suddenly freed of their restraints and began to bolt off from their stations.  

“Run free while you can… it won’t last long…” she whispered into the darkness. 

Behind her a sound stopped all thoughts of what she might do next.  There was a rustling in the grass there, then a sound that had to be the clearing of someone’s throat.  Feeling suddenly exposed, she turned quickly, rising up onto her feet with the twisting motion.  Her hands drew defensively to her chest.  

A few feet behind her an elven man gawked at her, one hand clutching at his pants.  The moment hung between them, eyes locked, each taking the moment to appraise the other.  His mouth opened, but the noise that he wished to utter never came about.  Cayrmisa was faster, her hand shooting out and twisting unmercifully in the air.  His neck following its course, an audible snap issuing in the night, as the head fell to lay unnaturally on the shoulders.  She trembled a bit and stared at the body that was still suspended in an upright position by her will.  

She took a breath and relaxed her hand, the body falling to the ground with a muffled thud.  “No… no… no…” frantic mutterings were spilling out of her mouth.  Her eyes moved back over her shoulder toward the camp, where it seemed her pranks were keeping most of the campers occupied, at least on this side.  

Emotions boiled over inside of her.  Another spell, rather more reckless then the ones she had been spitting out earlier, fell from her lips and a glimmering shadow passed over her masking her presence in the field to all but the most trained eye.  Within that shadow her hand reached out as if to clutch at something, the body in the weeds shuddered.  Her heavy feet began to carry her through the field back in the direction of the road, a few paces behind her the body dragged, leaving a deep rut in the grass in its wake.  

“Mane caele lle umien?” she hissed, her eyes staying fixed on the line of the road ahead of her.  At this time of night few travelers were on it, and indeed as she stepped out of the grasses and onto the hard packed earth there was naught but moonlight traveling along it.  The glimmer of shadows that spread over her and the carrion behind her continued to flicker as she stalked back toward their camp.  

The walk was long but should have been an easy traverse.  For Cay, though, it was torture, her feet ached with every hard step she put down, her clenched hand was threatening to spasm after being held in tension for so long, her shoulders throbbed and her head was starting to scream as she kept her eyes and ears on high alert for anything else that warranted her attention.  She refused to be caught unawares again.  

In the distance the line of trees that were her destination had just come into view when she first heard the familiar clips of a horse galloping down the road.  She froze and spied the rider down near the trees coming toward her.  Heart pounding in her chest she concentrated on maintaining the cloak she had spun around herself, hoping that it would be enough to keep her from being noticed.  Another spell sat on the tip of her tongue, though, ready to be released if the rider should happen to see through her ruse.  Eternity passed before the rider approached and then sped by, never even slowing as he passed.  Cay watched the rider continue down the road, the horse’s tail catching the light of the moon in its sways.  When a good distance was again between them she let the spell drop off her tongue and then continued toward the upcoming trees. 

Once she was back in the relative safety of the tree’s shadows she let the shadow spell fall away.  As she did she moaned slightly, with the release of the spell the first wave of exhaustion spilled over her.  Shaking her head she waved it off and refocused her attention on getting to her destination.   

Moments later she crashed into the small clearing.  The campfire she had started earlier in the day had died down to mere embers but as she approached it popped and crackled back to life its flames taking on unearthly colors of violet and blue.  She flung her clenched hand forward and let the strained fingers to relax.  What remained of the misfortuned corpse tumbled through the air before crashing into a tree and then crumpling at the base.  

“Stupid!  It would be a paching di’thang adanedhel!”  Her voice rang out high and clear.  “It was all going so well, and then you… mane caele lle umien!?  Not that it matters… lle mereth en draugrien!”  She paced about furiously, stopping when she neared the body and spat at it, “N’uma, all that matters now is that you’ve gone and botched it all.”  

Around the witch uncontrolled hera swirled, shooting off sparks of static electricity.  A noise in the woods gathered her attention and brought focus to the energy.  Defensively her hands rose again, although this time she did not wait to start the spell and a glowing ball of blue flame popped up near where she had heard the noise.  

“Tampa!” she called out loudly.  

“Melamin…” the familiar voice called out, edged with concern.  It was followed by Nyx stepping out of the shadows and into the glow of her blue flame.

Shuddering now she shook her head and did not lower her hands or her spell.  Instead she raised her voice and cut off whatever else he had wanted to say to her. 

“N’uma!  You daren’t start that… another adanenhel botching everything up.  You said I should stay here… pach!  Mayhem, a little mayhem… observing… I apparently wasn’t ready, and you… you… and look at what I’ve managed to do this time!  And again… again… I’m left at your mercy to clean it up… I paching hate this!  So don’t go melamin-ing after me… I don’t want your sympathy or… or....” She ranted on, the words barely containing much sense at this point as her thoughts jumbled.  

The flame began to sputter some before him.  At the same moment the anger twisting her features eased and the bright points in her eyes dulled.  Her hands uncurled and dropped to her sides, leaving the flame to quickly fade to a wisp of blue smoke.  The look that replaced the anger was one of resigned dismay.  There was a single second before the wave of exhaustion overtook her, and in that moment she locked her eyes on his, “Amin hiraetha…” she muttered then screamed, “Pach!” as her eyes closed and she collapsed to the ground much like the man she had slain earlier. 

With the knowledge of their pursuers on their minds the love making session was a bit more urgent than the night before.  The faster pace, however, did not seem to diminish the effect.  

“So is it just you?”  She asked her back to him, running her fingers through the tangles in her hair, pulling out a twig, and looking around for where her hat might have gone.  

Nyx glanced over at her as he affixed his cloak, momentarily distracted by the way her figure stood out against the soft pale blue sky.  “Just me?  I’m not sure I follow…”  

Her amber eyes ducked back at him over her shoulder.  “Don’t you?  No one has ever made me feel like this before… but I’ve never been with another elf.  So I am just beginning to wonder… is it just you, or was I denying myself unknown pleasures for years by turning down every elven invitation that happened to come my way…”  She smirked and bent down to pick up her hat.  As she slipped it back onto her head a pair of arms wrapped around her and she was pulled up close to Nyx again, his breath warm on her neck. 

“Melamin… you aren’t the only feeling like you haven’t before…”  He purred, his hands already moving along her body possessively.  “I like to think it’s just me.” 

She grinned and turned around in his arms and pressed her lips to his as her fingers crawled through his mane.  When she finally pulled away, her teeth tugging on his bottom lip a little as she went, she threw him another lascivious glare.  “Well… I was wondering, because… you know, if this whole assassination business goes south.  We need a back up.  And I know the noble ladies would line up around the block and pay whatever they could to feel like this…and if these skills are unique to you… well, we could make a fortune.”  

He laughed at that and swatted her backside; “So it’s to be Madame Shyndyn as opposed to Lady, is it?” Nyx shook his head and pulled her tighter against him. “I would sooner die than lie with anyone who was not you, Cayrimisa,” he purred, his lips brushing the top of her ear, “besides, I have gotten pretty proficient where this whole assassination business is concerned. I believe we’ll manage without you having to whore me out, yes?”

“Yes… but now you’re all distracted…”  She wiggled against him a little to drive in the point and grinned.  “So, we might need to have you turn tricks just to eat.”  She shrugged and giggled.  “Or we can get back to work and see if you can still focus properly.”  Winking she pulled back again and started toward the horses.  

He followed closely behind and helped her into the saddle.  “I don’t have any problems focusing, until you begin to peel off my clothes.”  

“You don’t seem to complain…” she smiled.  “Now get on that horse.  You’ve got a contract to catch up with.”  

“Yes… Madame…” he chuckled, bowing a little before following her orders.  

---

The smaller rutted road that they had been traveling down finally met its end by colliding with a much larger road.  The Imperial Way stretched it’s long finger out from Drasnia toward the Braudian Capitol.  Unlike the smaller road that they had been on this road had many other travelers that bustled in both directions.   They both pulled their cloaks closed and the hoods up over their heads when they reached the main road.  For some time they traveled down this road, intently watching each group that they passed, as of yet they had not seen sign of the caravan that they were looking for.  

Cay pulled her horse close to his and leaned over a little, speaking softly.  “Are we too early?  Perhaps they were waylaid?  I don’t see them, and they don’t appear to be ahead of us…”  She peered intently down the road.  The road ran on a long curve through what was mainly grasslands, although outbreaks of trees dotted the ground and broke up the horizon frequently enough.  It was hard packed earth that after two days of sunlight had mostly begun to dry up after the last round of storms, dust and dirt billowed up under the feet of the faster horses as they traveled along.  

Beside her Nyx shook his head slowly, his eyes were fixed intently ahead of him and almost seemed glazed over.  “No…I have them.  They are behind us, a few miles I would guess.”  

Cay raised her brow and turned in her saddle to look behind them.  She strained her eyes and blinked a few times but could not see what he spoke of.  

“I know you see better than I… but are you sure?”  She turned back to him.  

“Yes…”  He nodded, still looking slightly out of it.  It took her a moment then she nodded.  

“The crow…”  Another nod from Nyx.  Cay rested her hand on the pommel and watched him as they continued at a slow pace down the road.  “Well… share what you’ve got for us.”  

“He’s in a carriage, there are two smaller open carts behind him, filled with whatever servants and supplies he apparently needs for this trip.  There are at least six guards on horseback around them, might be a seventh trailing at a distance behind them…”  

Cay nodded and glanced out at the far horizon and tried to gauge how long it would be before the sun began to dip down behind it.  

“It won’t do to ambush them here on the road.  We’ll need for them to make camp and get comfortable before we can do anything.  It’s still a few hours until nightfall.  Shall we continue on a little longer, put a bit more distance between us, then stop for a while?  I could use a bit of a rest and some food before we circle back to begin scouting them.  They’ll catch up to us a bit while we rest, but then we can perhaps approach whatever camp they set up on foot…”  

Nyx rolled his head some and brought his hand up to the back of his neck as he stretched it out, then finally looked over at her.  “Seems like a sound plan.”  He pointed out toward one of the distant groups of trees.  “That looks like a good place to gather ourselves.”  

With a lull in the heavy flow of traffic, Nyx turned his pony from the road and, Cay following behind, took them a good distance off the road to find a decent clearing far back in the trees. “This seems a likely spot,” he determined, having pranced the perimeter a time or two before slipping from the saddle, letting ‘Devil’ roam free as he moved to help Cay down from her filly, “We’re far enough ahead that Olsta’s cumbersome train shouldn’t pass before we’re rested.”

Her feet settled on the ground and Cay took a moment to look around herself.  “Seems sufficient…” she nodded and then turned to the horse, brushing out her mane and patting her down gently after the long day.  

Nyx watched her with the horse, for a moment, smiling softly at the almost affectionate attention she paid the piebald filly. “You’ve taken quite well to the horse, melamin,” he grinned, “for one who seemed so skittish of them only days ago.” One hand came to rest at the small of Cay’s back as the other reached to undo the piebald’s bridle. “How much of that is your magic, I cannot say,” he smiled, glancing sidelong at Cay, “and how much is remembrance, I wouldn’t chance to guess, but I do know that she likes you.” He slung the bridle over a shoulder, then, and with a firm pat on the filly’s flanks, sent the horse off to join her brother in grazing. “You may even give her a name, at some point, yes?”

She tilted her head a little to the side and gave a small shrug.  “Perhaps.  When I was very young I had to help tend the horses, but I wasn’t allowed to ride them…”  She looked back over at the lovely creature she had ridden all day.  “She’s a good horse.  She listens well enough,” a light smile on her lips.

“I don’t choose bad horses,” Nyx grinned faintly, watching as Cay’s horse trotted across the clearing, “My folk rely on them, after all, and we may know them better than we know ourselves.” He heaved an almost wistful sigh before his eyes turned to Cay, again. “I had quite a string before I left the steppes,” he said on the back of that breath, “these two may very well be spawn of theirs.”

He tipped his head and planted a kiss on her lips, then, and, afterwards, brushing a lock of hair over her ear, smiled a bit and asked; “Something more than trail rations for dinner, tonight, my lady?”

“That would be lovely.  I’m going to need some energy tonight, I have a feeling.  I can get things set up here if you wanted to go out and see what you could wrangle up for us.”  In a motion she had removed her hat and her cloak, both of which drifted over toward a tree and settled on a bare branch easily.  “Although…” she shrugged a little as she did that.  “Perhaps I should do the rest manually, saving up that energy and all… but it is tempting.”

A slight chuckle escaped him as she wielded her magic so casually when, in all the years he had shadowed her, she had seemed to conserve that particular energy. “Perhaps,” he nodded, “you may need all you can spare tomorrow, yes?

You’re sure you can manage the tent and the fire,” he asked, almost offhand, before whistling for Devil and, as the black galavanted across the clearing and came to a nickering halt before the mith’ganni, “Shall I at least unsaddle the horses before I’m off to hunt?” He snatched his bow and the quiver of arrows from where they hung from Devil’s harness; “The less you have to do, the more you might rest, hm?”

She flung him a slight sideways glare, “Can I manage?  I was raised by nomads, I think I’m capable of setting up a camp.  But if you’d like to play the man and do the heavy lifting… by all means.  Grunt a little while you do it, and then go hunt me down some meat.”  She winked and began pacing through the little gathering of trees as she began determining the best places to set the fire and tent.  

“Far be it from a hwandi such as myself to question a Lady,” Nyx chuckled, shrugging from his cloak and setting the quiver to his back and similarly slinging the bow before reaching out to unbuckle the black’s saddle, “Forgive me for asking, yes?” With an exaggerated grunt, he hauled the tack from the horse’s back and deposited on the ground at his feet.

He whistled for the filly, then, and went through similar exaggerated strains with her gear. When he was finished and the tack and harness were sufficiently set aside, Nyx rested his hands on his knees and feigned exhaustion. “You may have to hunt for us, as well, melamin,” he panted overmuch, “I don’t know that I have the strength after all of that.”

She laughed a little, “Then we’ll starve.  I’m not allowed to use my magic for now… and I am awful with a bow.  I might be able to find some mushrooms… but probably not worth it.”  She shrugged and went to the saddlebags to start removing their contents.  

“What,” Nyx chortled as he straightened up, “no quips about just tying my skirts between my legs and I’ll be fine? Tsk… disappointing.”

“I’m so hungry I cannot even properly chastise you…” 

He flicked her a wink, then, and took a few backwards steps toward the darker edge of the clearing. “Allow me to see what I can do to remedy that. I shall return soon, Cay,” he promised, “Do try not to burn down the wood while I’m away, yes?”

“You may want to get to it before I decide to turn you into a toad, point-ear,” she smirked, unrolling the tent in the spot she had chosen for it.

“I do love it when you talk dirty,” Nyx chuffed, turning for the depths of the forest, “slitch.”

“Bastard!”

“I love you, too. I’ll be back with dinner, soon.”

“If it’s good enough, you may even get dessert.”

“You are going to be the death of me, Cayrimisa Shyndyn,” he snickered softly, snatching his bow from his shoulder as he faded into the deepening shadows of the wood, “I cannot think of a better way to go.” Then, with his laughter still hanging in the air, he disappeared from sight.

Nyx had no sooner disappeared into the forest, though, than, with the heavy-beating of black-feathered wings, a large raven found a perch on a limb just above where Cay was pitching the tent. 

She glanced up at the large bird when she noticed it land and begin to stare at her with it’s dark beady little eyes.  Her mouth curled up a little.  “Keeping an eye on me, eh?  It’s tempting to give him something worthwhile to watch.  But I’ll be good… for now.”  

Once the tent was pitched she began gathering some firewood and stacking it neatly in a little spot she had cleared out.  With the bits of wood stacked up and the kindling tucked neatly in the gaps she threw a glance over her shoulder at the bird.  “It’s too much work… don’t judge me.  And if you tell, I swear I’ll eat you.”  Then she pointed her fingers at the fire and a flame darted up from its depths.  

The raven hopped on the branch at her threat, offered a soft ‘quork’ and turned its back, pretending not to notice.

“Quel Korko.”  Cay settled onto the blanket near the fire and poked at it with a stick, allowing her mind to wander a bit while she waited for Nyx to return.  She looked deep into the spark of embers at the base of the fire and sighed a little. 

“Again… this is between the two of us you mangy onna en’dome…” she muttered, above her the bird squawked slightly and ruffled its feathers.  “But I might be a bit nervous about tonight.  I know this is nothing for Nyx, he’s had experience like this before, moves in like a lumbule and cuts a dozen threads…”  She poked at the flames again, a pop coming out from inside the tangle of sticks.  “I have never worked that way though.”  

The crow took a few steps along his branch and pushed out its beak, but stayed quiet.  “We did well together last night.”  Her eyes lighted over her fingers, considering the powers they held, “I can help him.  Ease the load, make things easier… what if I misjudge what I can handle though?  He’s still carrying the wounds from the last few days, and while I could help… I could also distract him.”  The wavering air above the fire catches her attention and she pulls her eyes up to that, staring deeply into it.  “I’m walking a thin line.”  Biting her bottom lip these thoughts continue to drag through her.  

The first hints of fading light bring Nyx creeping through the branches and into their little clearing, two rabbits hung over his shoulder.  “A very thin line Cayrimsa…” she whispered to herself as he approached.  

Stalking into the clearing, Nyx’s gaze, first, fell upon Cay where she sat by the fire she’d built and, then, ticked up into the boughs where the raven peered down. “I had wondered when you might show up, again,” he quipped, “Mae govannen, my friend.” In reply, the bird offered a low caw and a ruffling of feathers as the mith’ganni stowed his bow and quiver and then moved toward the fire.

He unslung the pair of fat conies from his shoulder before leaning down to press his lips to Cay’s head and, then, with a light smile, lifted the rabbits a bit and said; “Dinner.” He sank down beside her on the blanket, then, and, after freeing the rabbits from the thong that tied them together, set about dressing them out. “I spotted a deer that might have made a more substantial supper,” he told her in the midst of preparing the conies for the fire, “but it’s highly doubtful we’d have managed to finish the thing in a week, let alone in the course of a meal. No need to be wasteful, yes?”Soon enough, the rabbits were spitted over the flames and the parts that Nyx and Cay wouldn’t eat had been offered to the raven who seemed happy to scarf the stuff down.

Once the rabbit had been reduced to an oily pile of bones and her stomach felt full and content, the witch readjusted herself on the blanket, she lay on her side, head resting against his thigh as she gazed back into the fire.  It’s light now glowed a soft orange in the ever increasing darkness.  In the distance a long wailing howl moved across the land, it caused her no fear, the only thing worth fearing was the two of them.  

“So… what is it that you are going to need from me tonight to get this job done?”  

“Hmmm,” Nyx pondered softly, his fingers absently toying with her hair as his gaze, too, lingered on the fire before them, “Tonight, I think, I should simply like to test their camp… get a better eye on their numbers… gauge their awareness… That sort of thing.

If Olsta’s death is to appear an accident,” the assassin continued, “I thought we might be better served to sever his thread a bit further along the road; perhaps near where the Imperial Way skirts the cliffs along the coast.” He sighed, stretched, and smiled softly, then. “If you like, melamin, you don’t even have to participate in tonight’s skulking… unless you might like to try your hand at some light sabotage?”“Well, you aren’t leaving me here.  You’d probably take more of the profits if I didn’t do my part.”  Although she still looked out at the fire he could probably hear the smirk in her tone.  “Sabotage sounds fun, a little mayhem is right up my alley.”  

“A little?!” Nyx smirked, his eyes dipping to where her head lay on his lap, “For the amount of mayhem you’ve brought into my life of late, elen en cormamin, I would think an alley would be far too narrow for you.”

She shook her head a little bit.  “He says… while he sits comfortably by a fire, lounging with the woman he loves under the stars… mayhem indeed.”  She stretched out a little bit and then resettled into his lap again comfortably.  “Now hush… I need to rest and think of all the ways I can disturb the respectable senator’s camp tonight.”  She let her eyes close and tried to do just that. 

“Amin na tualle,” he chuckled softly, his fingers drifting from her hair and moving to caress her shoulder and back. “You rest, then, melamin, and I’ll set eyes out to find where they’ve settled.” Nyx’s gaze sought out the raven, then. “Korko,” he called, earning a questioning quark and cant of the head from the bird, “lle desiel?”

A fluttering of wings brought the bird from the branches and down to a perch on the Twilight Elf’s shoulder. Nyx lifted a finger to scritch lightly at the feathers on its chest and whispered; “Go. Find us the senator’s camp, yes?”

The raven bobbed its head once, gave a light caw of acknowledgement, and, with that launched itself from Nyx’s shoulder and into the night sky.

A deep furrow dug into Erik Toscani’s brow.  He raised his hand to the brow and used it to try and shield the bright afternoon sun that almost seemed to mock the tragedy he was staring down at.  The currents of the Reyal made the water lap around the soles of his boots.  Just beyond the sandy river bed where he stood reeds grew tall for several feet where the river was shallow due to the bridge that loomed overhead.  They stopped growing where thousands of years of erosion had dug the river deep and wide.  

The body was caught along the barrier of the reeds.  The upper part of her body was in the reeds, her hair spread out in a halo around her face, the soft brown tendrils curling swaying with each ripple of water.  One of her hands was up in the reeds as well, a small fish was pecking at the edge of her thumb.  Out further in the current her skirts were caught in a flutter of shifting material.  He sighed heavily and took a longer look at her face. 

She was a young human female, due to her plumpness and the way she was dressed she had to call the Imperial Quarter home.  The high forehead, the pointed nose, the furrow on his brow deepened.  Erik lifted his head up to glance at the bridge above with a sigh, then turned to one of the two guards who were standing on the bank behind him.  

“You said it was a fisherman who found her?”  

“Yes sir… not that long ago.”  One of the men stepped forward just a bit as he spoke. 

“She doesn’t look like she’s been in there long at least, I’d guess she went in last night.  Alright, we need to get her out.  Be careful, will you?  I believe that’s Styopa Bolstoii’s daughter, don’t do any further damage.  Take the body to the coroner, let him take a look at her, make sure there isn’t any sign of foul play, will you?  Then have him clean her up, I’m sure her family will want to come and collect her later today.”  

He took a step forward then, his boot dipping into the water up to his calf.  Reaching down he plucked at a necklace that lay on the girls’ breast.  He gave it a tug and the chain broke easily, he stood back up and pulled himself out of the water.  On his palm a small golden heart with a blue stone it shone up at him.

“Take care of it… I’ve got to go inform her parents.”  

--- 

Back in his office Toscani leaned back in his chair and pulled off his boots.  All the way to and from the Bolstoii Manse his feet had squealched.  Once off he flung the damp leather objects to the corner of the office and began to peel back the soggy socks that were hiding underneath them.  “People should find better places to die than the river…”  He rubbed at the white wrinkled toes that the socks revealed, trying to bring color and feeling back into them.  

He gave up on his feet and decided to pour himself a finger that he had hidden in his desk.  Things had gone as expected at the Bolstoii Manse, there had been screaming and wailing from the mother, and reluctant acceptance from the father once the necklace had been shown.  However, there was something off about the experience that he simply couldn’t put his finger on.  The house had seemed overly tense even before it was ascertained that the girl was in fact missing from her rooms.  The servants were jumpy and did not meet his eyes, but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why as the shock of information he revealed appeared real enough.  He would be most interested in what the coroner had to say about the girl's death and if there were any witnesses from the night before.  

Half of the small tumbler was gone, which seemed to have more effect on warming his toes than his earlier rubbing had done, when there was a knock at his door.  Grumbling to himself for a moment he finally called out, “Come in… what is it now?”  

A head peaked through the door, “Sorry Captain, it’s just that… there seems to be an issue over on the Governor’s Gate.”  

Toscani sat up a little and took a quick sip of his drink, “What kind of issue? They can’t handle it on their own?”  

“There’s a Hellkite, Captain.  He’s on a cart and the contents are ‘suspicious’, but he’s refused an inspection, there’s a standoff.  They are requesting you go down there.”  

Bloody hells… is this day never going to end?  

“Alright, send word back that I’m on my way and to keep their skirts from bunching up too much while they wait.”  The guard left without a reply and Toscani began the unpleasant job of putting his socks and boots back on.  Before he left the room he downed the rest of the glass on his desk.  

Moments before he stepped out of the lobby of his station he took in a deep breath and then held it in his chest.  The sunlight hit him in the face again as he moved out through the door.  He squinted a little, turning his head from the light and finding the display to the left of their door within his eyesight again.  Two days of being in the sun had taken its toll on the head skewered on the tall pole there.  The elven features were now purple and bloated, once yellow eyes were now a dark rust yellow and leaked heavy goo out of their corners, from the mouth a swollen black tongue protruded.  A sign hung under the head that read ‘Murderer’.  

When Dmitrova had brought him the battered body of the young elf Toscani had been suspicious of it.  The body appeared to match the descriptions given of the elf who fled the scene of the murders, but with the amount of damage already done to it it was difficult to get a positive identification of it.  Despite the doubt he felt though, the city was on the verge of falling into chaos over the double decapitations and finding a dead body to pin it on was just what Toscani had needed.  So he had given Dmitrova some reward money and stuck the head out in the lawn, it had served to help quiet some things down.  Of course now it was Dmitrova’s men who were causing him more headaches today.  

Once outside the yard he began to breathe again, mostly free from the stench of the rotting head, and then went to the stables to retrieve his horse, at least he wouldn’t have to squealch in the wet boots on his way to the gate.  

---

Erik had not even gotten through the gate before he began to hear the escalating turmoil going on on the other side.  

“I says I don’t care who you thinks you are, I ain’t letting you through this here’s gate, not without either seeing what you gots under that tarp that smells so gorram awful, or mine captains clears you.”  The nasal voice of what could only be one of Erik’s guards rang out.  

“Yeah?  Well ye can go get my cap’n den… see what ‘es got te say about dis.”  Another voice rang out, no doubt the Hellkite.  

Sighing deeply Erik dug his heels into his horse and pulled through the arch of the gate and out into the other side where under the shadow of the wall a cart was pulled over next to the road.  A slender man, covered in dirt from the road and looking a bit wild in the eyes, was sitting alone in the front seat.  Already Erik could smell the stench coming off the back of the cart and immediately recognized it, shit, blood, vomit, death.  He struggled to keep his disgust off his face.  By Naxir himself, I don’t get paid enough to deal with this… 

“Hopefully we won’t need to involve Dmitrova, I’m sure he doesn’t want to be bothered by whatever misunderstanding is going on here.  Now… come someone explain to me what is going on around here?”  Toscani pulled the horse to a stop, dug his wet heels into the stirrups and rose up above the horse.  

The guard, a tall brute that Toscani was having difficulties coming up with his name spoke up first.  “Sir… there be something funny going on rounds here.  I swear that cart left here yesterday with two blokes on it, this morning a whole cadre of Hellkites heads out on horses like their backsides be on fire, and now this feller is returning with the cart and it… well sir, you can smells it yourself, can’t you?  He won’t let me look under that tarp… but it don’t seem right to just let that nasty thing in the city.”  

Erik nodded and turned to the driver of the cart.  “Well?”  

The thin man grumbled a bit under the firm glare of Toscani.  “I’m jus’ followin’ orders, see?  I was tol’ te bring this back te town, bring it te Dmi, he’s the one that needs te see it.”  

Another nod by Erik, he glanced back up at the glaring sun once more then back to the man on the cart.  “Alright, let’s start this over.”  He heaved himself out of the saddle and guided the horse over to the rail next to the gate and wrapped the reins around that before turning back to the cart.  

“Who exactly are you?”  

“Gregorum Pashlaval.”  

“That’s a start, now… who runs your nest?”  

“Bensington.”  

Recognition flashed over Toscani’s features.  “Ben’s a good enough guy.  Next question…”  He walked over to the cart and rested a hand on the edge of the seat, leaning a bit closer to Gregorum.  “Who you got in the cart?  Are they Hellkites?  Or someone you’ve run down?  Be straight with me, I’m going to find out one way or another, and if I find out you’ve been lying to me I’ll cut out your tongue.  Dmitrova and I got an agreement, but it won’t protect you.”  

The thin man swallowed hard and looked at the man in the uniform who was nearly leaning over him.  “I dun wan’ no trouble.  Paching point ear!”  He grumbled to the side, then glanced back at Erik.  “They’se Hellkites… chopped up bad, I gots te get them back to Cap’n Dmi.  He’s gonna wanna see this shyte.”  

Erik leaned back a little now that the man was talking, he raised a brow at the mention of a ‘point ear’.  Making a point of looking around, he asked, “I don’t see any elves here, so… would I be correct to assume that an elf is responsible for whatever state the dead bodies in the back of this wretched cart are in?”  

“Aye’s…”  Gregorum nodded and gave a dismal glance back at the tarp, flies had already begun to collect and flew in and out of the dark creases.  

“Just some random point ear?  Or do we have a name on him?”  Already Erik was growing tired of the questioning and wished that the stupid ‘kite would just spill the information he needed so that they could finish up.  

“We thin’ its that paching bunny humper Nyx Shyndyn.”  

Toscani ran his hand across the bit of stubble growing on his chin and considered.  “I heard that he was dead… don’t tell me his ghost did this.”  

“Nah… like I says we thin’ it twas ‘im.  Ain’t caught up to ‘im yet, leas’ not las’ I knew.  The Cap’n says that they didna kill ‘im, though.”  

“That’s who you were riding out after?”  

“Aye… an’ that fishy witch migh’ be wit ‘im…”  

The furrow returned to his brow, he had heard something about a witch living down by the wharfs, but most of what she had been involved in was small, unlike the rumors floating around about Nyx, it seemed an unlikely pairing.  “That so…?  Well… this has been very informative.  You know I can’t let you bring that stinking pile of…” He shook his head, “into my city.”  

“Well I needs te bring it te Dmitrova!  Ye gots te let me in!”  The man immediately began to protest. 

“Hush now… we’ll get this worked out.  You can get in, but we’re going to have to work out something else for the cart.  Now let’s see what we’re dealing with here…”  Erik pushed back from the front of the cart and made his way around to the back.  

“I warnin’ ye, it ain’t pretty…” Gregorum warned, not moving to go back and help or take a second look himself.  

Just add it to the list of shit I get to deal with today…  Erik lifted up the blood soaked tarp and had to pause a moment as he took in the sight of mostly mangled flesh before him.  “Yep… pretty gruesome.”  He let the tarp fall back over the bodies and moved back around to the front of the cart, trying to keep the burning spirits in as they rose up in his throat.  

“Here’s what you’re going to do, Gregorum…  Leave the cart here, head back to Dmitrova and let him know to expect me shortly.  I’ll be by the Hydra shortly and I’ll bring the recognizable bits of those two with me. I think your boss and I will have a good discussion about them.  I’ll worry about disposing the rest in a way that doesn’t bring it into my city.”  

Gregorum frowned.  “Not wha’ I twas ordered te do…”  

“Well… sometimes that happens.”  He clapped the man on the shoulder.  “We have to be flexible sometimes.  Your other option is to take the cart back from whence it came and take care of it yourself.  You aren’t getting in the city with it though.  I won’t budge on that point.”

Gregorum sat and contemplated the options for a moment then grumbled and began to get out of the seat.  “I dunna like it, but I been ‘eld up ‘ere long ‘nuff.  I needs te get in dis report.”  

“That’s a good lad.  I’ll be by shortly, like I said.”  Gregorum mumbled something more, but went through the gate without further protest.  Once he was gone Toscani turned back to the guard.  

“Good call not letting him through.  Now… go inside the gate,” he rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a coin and handed it to the guard, “buy me a basket big enough to put two heads in.  I’ll watch the gate while you go.  When I get a chance I'll send some men out here to burn this horrid cart.”  

Looking forward to meeting up with the CTO, especially when she's in a less than stellar mood.   

M.

“Cay,” Nyx called to her through the fog of sleep.  “Wake up, melamin!  We need to go!  Quickly!” 

She heard his voice, and the urgency in it, her eyes fluttered open and she looked up into his face, and then he was gone, the tent flapping closed behind him and the noises of him striking camp hurriedly reached her ears.  

“Well… alright, good morning to you too…” she grumbled and began to find her clothing and get dressed, as she did she called out a little louder so that he could hear her through the tent.  “Want to fill me in perhaps?”  

There was a moment’s pause in the banging around outside.  “Yes… sorry melamin.  We’re being followed.  Dmitrova must have gotten word about our departure already, they look like Hellkites… still several hours behind us, but I’d rather we didn’t give them time to narrow that gap.”  The movement outside the tent picked back up without waiting for her response.  

She nodded to herself and pulled on her boots.  I can only imagine what Dmitrova thought about the two of us leaving… especially together.  I wonder just how much he’s put together… The thought made her smile a little as she crawled out of the tent, to find Nyx tending the horses and another thought crossed her mind. 

How did he know? 

The same way you knew how to cast those spells… 

Nodding comfortably with the thought she began taking down the tent and helping him store their gear in the saddle bags.  It wasn’t long before they were ready to go.  Standing on the side of the road, her horse already bowing down so she could easily slip into the saddle she glanced back at the campsite, with the firepit still slightly warm, the grass bent down where the tent had laid, the marks on the trees where they had tied the horses up.  

“Can’t make it too easy for them…”  she smiled and closed her eyes before spreading out her palms toward the campsite.  There was a brief flash that passed out from her that radiated out over the land, the grass and the browning leaves on the trees shuddered but then fell silent again.  All traces that they had been there were gone.  She threw Nyx a wink, blew him a kiss and pulled herself onto her saddle.  

After an hour of riding hard on the road she waved to Nyx to slow down, they were near a small brook where a collection of trees stood by the side of the road.  On the far side of the brook she pulled her horse to a stop.  

“Sorry… I need a bite, and… well…”  she grinned a little as she turned the horse around.  “I’ve been waiting for a decent sized tree to align itself with the road just right…”  

This time she didn’t bother closing her eyes, just raised one hand up above her head and then brought it quickly down toward her lap.  A crash of lighting fell from the bright blue sky and collided with one of the oak trees by the road.  Thunderous cracking noises followed and the tree seemed to explode close to it’s base, bits of bark and splinters spraying down into the bed of the creek.  The tree teetered slightly, it’s branches swaying back and forth before it finally gave way to gravity and collapsed, it’s trunk falling over the road they had just crossed.  

“Better.”  She began to rummage through the bags until she found a bag of dried fruit.  Popping a morsel into her mouth she turned the horse around again and then settled the bag between her thighs so she could nibble some while they rode.  “Much better…” 

I'm ready to go either way.  Had some potential for some collabs with Kennedy in the Aerie with her plant.  However if we want to just get to the meeting I'm good with that, we can backpost or do another collab some other time, there will be lots of opportunities.    

Basically I'm flexible with whatever.  

M.

The sun was bright and high in the sky again.  Nary a hint of clouds touched the expanse of blue that spread out over the city of Drasnia today.  Ever since the storms had passed by them things had been going well, Mouse mused to himself.  Cayrimisa had slipped out of his grasp, and had taken Nyx with her.  Dmitrova was fuming over it, but Mouse knew she’d be back.  Everything had been left in her flat, and even if she had decided to discard all of the material remnants of her prior life, he knew that she would not be able to rid herself of Drasnia itself.  Not yet.  She still had plenty of unfinished business here.  

He had, however, decided that it would be prudent of him to obey Dmitrova’s orders and see if he could trace the last steps of the murderous pair before they left town.  Of the two, it was Nyx who would be easier to follow.  Cay, it seemed, had been acting a chameleon in the past few days, her dress and appearance changing at a whim, making sightings of her difficult to ascertain and to trust.  Instead of focusing on her then, he decided to focus on the moon-elf.  Pulling up his memories of the point-ear he had conjured a small spell up and transposed an image of him on a bit of parchment.  

The likeness had proved successful and as Mouse had wandered about the city all morning there had been various sightings of the elf.  It amused Mouse how little care the elf had taken into covering so many of his steps. 

Mouse had begun at the Vergal Sea Port, the assassin had definitely been in the witches lair, he could easily feel him in the room, but that was not a surprise.  When he left the lair, though, he had tracked him down further.  Pie carts, the Albatross, possibly the Trade Ministry, various shops, even a middle class inn (Mouse’s skin had prickled into tight goosebumps when he stood in the room they had let for a few hours, the strength of their presence still rippling in the air here), but nothing that he hadn’t expected and nothing that would be of any great importance down the line.  

The first hint that he had hit upon something worthwhile happened on one of the busier streets that was littered with mostly elven shops.  A surprisingly petite elven woman pushing a cart selling milk in heavy glass bottles had immediately recognized the image of Nyx on the parchment. 

“Uma…” she had nodded.  “Know him…. Uma…” she repeated herself.  “You want milk?” she said, her accent thick, but that one phrase well practiced.  “Milk three pennies…” she held up three fingers and went to reach into the cart to get the bottle out.  

Mouse shook his head and pointed back at the picture of Nyx.  “I want to know about him.  You saw him here the other day?”  Mouse was patient with her, but the question had been asked over and over again and he was tiring of it.  

“Uma.  I say I know.”  Emphatically nodding her head.  “He come many time.”  

At this, Mouse paused and looked at the woman a bit closer.  She was a wood elf, older and well worn, her hair pulled back with a cloth, her apron dirty.  “Many times?  Many times the other day, or many times prior to yesterday?” 

“Many time, many years.  Milk?”  She tried again to sell her wares to the strange man in the long dark grey robes. 

Mouse shook his head.  “No, I don’t want any milk.  You’ve seen this elf here for years?  He buys milk from you?”  

“N’uma… not much.  He goes to shop.”  She ticked her head over toward a little shop across the road.  

“Nyx Shyndyn has been visiting that shop regularly for years?”  Mouse turned and looked at the little shop, the storefront lacked proper signage, but a small table outside had samples of cloth on it.  A small window had a dreamcatcher with feathers and small bones tied into it’s web hanging in front of the curtain, an unsteady looking wooden door was propped open with a box.  “That shop?”  

“Uma… uma… uma…” the woman was obviously losing her patience with the man who was not going to buy any milk from her.  She pressed her finger at the image of Nyx and then pointed to the shop.  “Elf go to Taellyn.”  

“Taellyn…” he let the word roll over his tongue.  “Taellyn’s the seamstress.”  

“Uma.”  She practically grunted the word this time, and with the man’s attention seeming to focus entirely on the shop she shrugged and began to push her cart away.  

Nyx paid regular visits to a seamstress’s shop… curious.  

He didn’t want to go into the shop himself, he was much too obvious, but this was worth spending more time on.  First he would observe, he decided.  He found a dark corner near an alley and crouched down in the dirt.  From his pocket he pulled out a well worn Bedine coin, pressed it into his palm and began to rub his opposite thumb over the lines carved into it while he kept an eye on the store, seeing who came and went throughout the day. 

---

The grey robes swirled around Mouse as he brushed quietly into the Hydra’s Breath.  The place stood nearly empty, Dmitrova had nearly every available hand out looking for the Dark Elf and his Dark Mistress.  The single mindedness of his so-called Boss was truly remarkable at times. 

He made his way over to the empty bar and settled onto one of the stools.  Ruun was not behind the bar right now, but he could wait, at least a little while.  Thoughts of the prior night were beginning to bleed back into his thoughts and a repeat would be very appreciated.  While he waited he tapped his fingers against the oily counter top.  Tap - tap - tap - tap

Ruun came back from the storeroom carrying a heavy crate in his arms.  Mouse noticed the wince he made when he caught sight of the spell slinger sitting at his counter.  

“Afternoon Ruun… I’m pleased to see you as well.”  Lacing his voice with silk as he drew out the words, smiling warmly at the barman.  

Ruun cleared his throat and heaved the crate on the bar only a few inches from where Mouse had been tapping his fingers.  Bottles rattled noisily against each other, but the wizard did not even flinch.  “Mouse.  You aren’t out with the others then?  I would have thought that you would be eager to get the Wharf Witch back in your grips.”  

Mouse shook his head.  “No… the little fish will come swim back to me on her own.  I don’t need to waste my time fishing… I have found out all I need to today.”  

“Good for you.”  Ruun moved to start pulling the bottles from the crate.  “Anything I can do for you now?”  

“I could use some sustenance.”  

“Anything specific?  And…”  Ruun paused a little and glanced over his shoulder as he put a bottle on the shelf, trying to see if he could get a reaction out of the man, “will you need just one serving?  Or will you require two?”  

No reaction came though, just the soft silky tones that he usually used.  “Just the one serving.  Make it a generous one though.  A soup and crusty bread would be sufficient.”  

“I’ll get it once I get this box unpacked.”  

“Fine…”  Mouse leaned back a little in the stool and went back to tapping his fingers on the counter while he waited.  A few minutes later a small tray with the requested food was pushed in front of him, a glass of ale had been added as well for good measure.  

“Mouse?”  Ruun began, a little tentatively this time. 

“Yeee..sss…” Mouse drawled out, swirling his spoon in the greasy broth.  

“We had some complaints, last night.  About the noise.”  

“Hmm…” Mouse didn’t raise his eyes, but the slightest smirk touched his lips.  He leaned over and slurped up a bit of soup between his thin lips, licked a drop that escaped down his bottom lip then nodded.  “I’m sorry if I caused your other guests any problems.  I’ll make sure it doesn’t happen again…”  

Ruun suddenly felt a little sick to his stomach and just nodded in reply, then went back to restocking the shelves.  Mouse continued to eat quietly at the bar.  When he finished most of the meal he got up and picked up the tray.  

“I’ll return the tray and dishes later…” He said as he left, Ruun didn’t bother giving him a response, and was just glad that the man was leaving his bar.  The wizard walked out of the main room of the inn and toward a hallway that led back to a row of small rooms on the back of the building.  

---

Alone.  Tanna was so alone.  She had thought that she was alone when she’d woken up in the dark tunnels after trying to help Aelion escape.  It had only been a night since then, but in that short time she had learned what truly feeling alone was like.  

She had tried to sleep during the day, but it had been difficult.  If her thoughts did not keep her awake, then it was the cramps clutching at her empty stomach, or the aches and pains that surged through the rest of her body.  At least she wasn’t in the dark, but the light was of little consolation she found.  

She lay curled up now in a heavy blanket, stitched with a red tree devoid of any leaves, wrapped around her on the floor.  Across the room there was a bed, neatly made with clean sheets, but she dared not lay on it.  As the day had gone on she had heard footsteps outside of the door, going down the hallway just outside of it.  Each time she had tensed, tears beginning to well up in her eyes at the thought of him returning.  However, for many hours they had continued along and the door had stayed closed.  Now though, the soft shuffling steps she heard stopped where the door was and the next moment the doorknob turned.  

Reflexily Tanna pushed her heels into the ground and pressed her body up against the wall, perhaps if she pushed hard enough she could melt right into it.  A moment later the door opened and the tall man in the grey robes walked back in.  He held a tray in his hands that appeared to hold the leftovers from his lunch.  While she cowered in the corner he stepped into the room, closed the door behind him and set the tray on the small table next to the bed, all without even glancing in her direction.  He sat on the bed and began to remove his feet.  

“Ehhh… my feet are sore.  Too much walking about today.  All those cobblestones…” Tanna listened to him muttering in his misleading voice.  Last night she had heard someone call him ‘Mouse’ before he had brought her to this room, and at first she could see why, but after the night she had spent in his rooms she thought that ‘Rat’ was a much more appropriate moniker.  

Finally he raised his eyes and brought them to Tanna, still rubbing at his feet with his thin fingers.  

“Sloth… I see you remain where I left you.”  

She swallowed hard and uttered a small squeak of a reply, “It’s Tanna… my name.  Yes…”  

Slowly he shook his head back and forth.  “No… it’s Sloth.  You no longer have a real name, much like myself.  I don’t think it would be fair for you to have one when I do not.”  

Her eyes dropped and she found she still had tears to be shed.  

“Now.  Sloth.  Stand up for me…”  and when she began to rise with the blanket still clutched around her shoulders he tsk’d her.  “Uh-uh…” pulling a hand from his foot he wagged his finger back and forth in a warning.  

Shuddering intensely her fingers let go of the blanket and it toppled to the floor, the branches of the tree wrapping around her feet but offering no protection.  Under the blanket she was clothed only in the black and blue blotches and welts from the whips that the man in grey had offered her last night.  

“Good.  Now… we got a complaint.  Too much noise.  I don’t want to do this, but if you cannot be quiet I will have to…”  He leaned over and opened the drawer on the table near the bed and pulled out two rags.  

“Oh stars… oh stars… please… please don’t hurt me again!”  She began shrieking.  True to his name Mouse moved quickly, skittering across the room and shoving one of the rags down her throat as he deftly tied it in place with his other hand.  Wide eyed she stared up at him, tears streaming down her face now.  

“Sloth, I shall do what I please to you… and when I am done you shall bathe and then you shall eat what I have on the table.  But I swear to you, you will be quiet…”  The man spoke quietly but with an edge to his voice that she dared not argue with.  As his hands began to move over her body she closed her eyes and realized that she understood just how Aelion felt when he’d asked her to kill him.  

"The Prime Directive is not just a set of rules; it is a philosophy... and a very correct one. History has proven again and again that whenever mankind interferes with a less developed civilization, no matter how well-intentioned that interference may be, the results are invariably disastrous." - Picard

How can I go against Picard!!   

M.

Stardate: 2365.05.15

USS Peregrine, The Aerie - 14:45

Kennedy stepped into the Aerie, tucked into the pocket of her grey sweater was her PADD, and in her hands was a small pot with a blue flower sitting in it.  The place was still quiet, everyone was in the middle of shift change, which made it the best time to arrive.  

Across the room Leah seemed to be taking advantage of the few minutes of quiet as well, she was moving around the room straightening chairs and wiping down tables.  She looked up and waved to Kennedy as she entered.  “The Grease-monkey…” she smiled affectionately at her.  “I’ll be back at de bar in a jif if ye don’ mind waitin’...”  

Kennedy placed the pot on the counter and moved to go behind the bar.  “Don’t worry about it.  I can help myself, don’t trouble yourself with me.  I just want a juice anyway.”  

“No… no… deary.  It’s my job to tend to de bar.  Yer job is to sit back an’ take a load off… Juice ye say?  Wha’ kind ye thinkin’ of?”  Leah bustled over, slapping the rag against her leg and then tucking it into the band of her skirt as she came back to the bar, shooing Kennedy away from the backside of it.  As she moved around to the back she raised a brow at the plant sitting on her counter.

“I’ve been off all day, so I don’t know that I need to take a ‘load off’ per say… I’ll just take an orange juice, no pulp please.  And thank you.”  She offered courteously.  

“Been off?  Relaxin’?  Takin’ a spa day in the holodeck?  Gardening?”  Leah inquired as she went about getting the woman her order. 

Kennedy shook her head and let out a small laugh.  “Not really my scene.  No I was with the Angel all day…”  

“Ahh… see ye weren’t relaxin’ ye was workin’.  I had a feelin’.  How’s de lady doin’?”  Leah pushed over a tall glass filled with the orange liquid and leaned against the bar.  

“She’s lovely.  Making some good progress on her.  Megan helped me out, she’s a sweet girl.”  

“Megs!  Ah yeah… dat lass is a sprite, did ye get any work done, er did ye spend most o’ the time listenin’ to her talk?”  Leah looked up momentarily as another crew member stepped into the bar, she gave him a smile and a wave.  

Kennedy grinned and laughed.  “I forced her to get some work done, even made her study for her exams some…”  

“Good fer her!  Anything else fer ye, or fer yer… date?”  Leah poked lightly at the plant and grinned.  

Kennedy laughed again.  “Do you have peanuts back there?  I could go for some roasted peanuts… my ‘date’ isn’t in the mood for much of anything.”  Kennedy frowned just a little and looked at the blue flower.  “She’s wilting a bit, she’d been doing so well, just this morning in fact she was doing great, but now her petals are starting to fade a bit.  It’s probably ridiculous but I thought maybe she could do with a little time in the window…”  Kennedy glanced out at the windows, their dark maw’s open to the darkness and the stars of the Calican system.  “So here we are... “  Kennedy shrugged and turned back to Leah who had gotten out a bowl of nuts, but was not laughing at the woman in front of her who just might be more nuts.  

“Yes… that’s probably the craziest t’ing I’ve heard in awhile!  Ye should probably take ‘er to science, not de Aerie…” Leah kept up her warm laughter.  

“I know… I know… but the bar always perked me up.  Figured it couldn’t hurt.”  She shrugged again and realized that she was going to have difficulties taking the pot, the drink and the nuts to her table.  

Leah noticed this problem as well and wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand she grinned.  “Ye get de plant, I’ll take yer order to yer table…”  

A few minutes later Kennedy was settled at the same table she had been the other night.  The plant was perched on the back of the bench cushion, soaking up whatever rays might make it through the window (so basically doing nothing).  Kennedy was splayed out on the bench comfortably again, occasionally popping a peanut in her mouth while she looked over her PADD.  Throughout the day she had popped onto it and checked on the progress of Sa’eirdon, there were reports being passed around the ship, which she glanced over.  Once or twice, or perhaps three times, she had spied in on the cameras in the Shuttle Bay to make sure things were running smoothly.  If anything had been going amiss she wanted to be able to step in.  It seemed, though, that everything was going smoothly, the beacon had gotten on the ship and diagnostics were nearing a close.  She smiled, pleased that her aCEO seemed capable of handling this on her own so far.  

Oh!  Those three will get along great! 

Okay, I went ahead and updated the log book.  I didn't get all of the back posts that were floating around in the mire... so if you had a back post you might want to go and put those in.  But I got all the activites of 5.15 in I believe.  

Hopefully I got it all.    

Maybe I should have been OPS, not Engineering.   

M. 

**Edit -- Well except for Eol's last post.  Because as always we are doing things at the exact same time and I missed it.  And he's just going to have to do it himself...   **

m.

Stardate: 2365.05.15

USS Peregrine, Shuttle Bay 1 - 14:35

“The beacon is now within range, sir.  Shall I begin the tractor beam?”  Peers said with a firmer confidence than she had spoken earlier.

“Yes… let’s go ahead and get that thing aboard.”  Sa’eridon replied and put aside her PADD.  She hoped that crash course on the beacon was going to be enough, it wasn’t that different from the 7A that she had been studying for the past day.  

“On it…”  Peers said and began to work on the console.  

=^=Reid to Engineering=^= a familiar voice pipped up.  

“Engineering.”  She responded, keeping her conversation professional, even if hearing his voice did bring a small smile to her face. 

=^=I may be a bit paranoid, but please be sure the beacon is scanned for any anomalies before it is pulled into the bay.  See to it there are no nanites detectable or other oddities.  We are still not sure where the nanites originated and we don’t need to be infected again.=^=

We’re all pretty paranoid right now… She thought to herself, outloud she replied. 

“I will Reid.  We’re going to be extra cautious with this one.  Glad to know you are on duty right now.  If anything comes up I’ll be sure to let you know.”

Leave it to Eol to put his foot in his mouth.  Let me know if he gets out of hand Cap'n.  I might have to drag them from another thread but I think there are some shady characters out there that could handle him.

Oh!  And I'm so glad Sa'eirdon stayed professional on the commbadge... whew!  I don't need a talking down to like that.   

I'll be working up responses to everyone soon.  

I think Kennedy might head to the Aerie here, with Megan reporting to the bridge and their lunch/tutoring session over she'll get a drink perhaps.   

M.

We're back up to 65F today.  Snow's all melted, the world is just muddy.  I swear the weather around here is drunk.  

I'll see what I can do about sending some of it your way... 

M.

“Wait,” Cay yawned, her heavy-lidded gaze turning to regard the corpses of Petrick and Crestar, “I want to do one more thing… bring me their heads…” 

Nyx shot up a surprised brow.  “Collecting heads now?”  Despite the question, he made sure she was settled securely in the saddle and began to dismount again.  

“No.  But we’re going to send them back to town, and I want Dmitrova to know who sent them… just bring them over, I’m getting weak and I’d like to finish this.”  She laid her head against the neck of the horse, tangling her fingers in it’s mane and fought to keep her eyes open. 

Nyx settled his boots on the road and turned to look at her.  Gently he pushed an arrant strand of hair off her forehead, leaving just the slightest trail of Hellkite blood on her skin as he did.  “I can take care of this melamin.  I’m worried about you…” the concern dripped from his words.  

“It won’t take long… just do it, bring me their paching heads.  I’ll be fine.”  she batted at his hand with hers, waved him off and then settled back into the horse eyes closing.  “Just bring them…” she whispered again softly. 

Deep in his chest a growl rumbled out from Nyx and a frown crossed over his face and for a moment he simply stared at the woman on the horse.  “Fine.  But that’s all Cayrimisa.  I don’t care what you say, you are going to rest afterwards… I’ll knock you out if I have to… you hear me?”  And when you awake we’ve got some things to discuss, don’t we, istalindir?

Without opening her eyes she waved him off again.  “Just go… dammit…” 

From her seat she could hear him as he stalked off, and could almost catch the spew of disgruntled rumblings he was muttering under his breath as he did.  She listened as he prowled about on the road.  The light slicing sound as he removed Crestar’s head and lobbed it back toward the horse where Cay was resting.  She heard the cart groan as it took on the wet, broken remains of first one body and then the next.  Then Nyx was returning.  

Nyx nudged her leg a little.  “I’m still awake…”  she whispered, the tendrils of wakefullness were proving more and more difficult to hold onto with each passing moment.  She seized one as tightly as she could, though, and forced her eyes to open and her body to sit back up.  “Okay… hold it up for me… hold it still…”  

Nyx nodded and brought the head up as bidden.  He held it with his two hands on either side.  The contorted features of Petrick stared at the witch, blood and dirt staining his face.  His eye patch had shifted and sat more over his nose now, revealing the scarred remains of his left eye socket.  Blood still dripped down from the bits of sinew clinging to his neck and fell to the ground between Nyx’s feet.  None of this held any sway over the witch.  She simply reached out and placed her scarred palm against the corpses forehead.  Purple luminescence poured out between her fingers, growing bright and hot for several minutes before blinking out.  When she pulled her hand back a crescent moon with a rose in full bloom clinging to it’s bottom curve was burned in perfect clarity in the already cooling skin.  

“One more…” 

Petrick’s countenance fell from her view as Nyx dropped that head to the ground and bent over to retrieve Crestar’s.  Briefly she noted the gore stuck in his beard, but then she simply reached out and repeated the spell on this head.  As soon as it was done her eyes closed again and she heard the thud of the still fleshy skull hit the ground.  

“Rest now…” Nyx’s breath was warm and gentle against her neck.

“I won’t argue with that…”  her voice was just a notch over a whisper and in the next moment her hands dropped nearly lifelessly to her sides, if not for the gentle rise and fall of her chest she might have been dead.  

“Pach!”  He cried as he watched her fade out of consciousness.  “What have you done, melamin?”  His hands reached out and double checked to make sure she wouldn’t fall out of the saddle, they smoothed out her hair and gently placed her hands on her lap.  Before he went off to finish with the bodies he placed a kiss upon her forehead.  

Minutes later the cart that had driven two Hellkites out of Drasnia and down this ill-fated road was headed back to Drasnia.  It left a streak of blood in its wake.  On the bed a pile of barely recognizable human meat sat under two tortured heads, their mouths and eyes open in terrified screams, their foreheads bearing matching brands.  

In the other direction two horses made their way away from the scene of carnage.  On the first pony Nyx sat, one arm wrapped protectively around the limp figure that leaned heavily against his chest.  His other hand held the reins and guided them through the recent twilight of this evening.  

---- 

Cayrimisa had slept soundly.  Now and then fleeting moments of memory broke through the darkness.  She could remember guiding her horse through the cornfield and hearing the terrified tones in the voices of the two men on the road.  There had been a child singing, which she herself at created out of nothing.  Then there had been blood and screams, but not her blood and not his screams, so it had gone well.  

Slowly consciousness began to return to her.  At first she didn’t know where she was, and while that brought a moment of panic, it quickly faded as she found she could feel Nyx.  He wasn’t physically touching her, however, he was near, and so she knew that she was safe wherever she was.  The thought brought a small smile to her lips.  

Blinking a few times she let her eyes focus.  She was in a tent, a small canvas thing.  It was still dark, although there was an orange glow that danced along the wall of the tent suggesting a fire nearby.  That it was still dark meant she had not been out long, perhaps only a few hours.  The exhaustion still pulled at her and she knew she would need several more hours of sleep before she would feel fully herself again.  However, she could also sense the waves of worry and even of anger that were pulsing off of Nyx and knew that she would need to wait a little longer to finish her sleep.  

Sitting up in the tent she noticed that he had pulled off her boots and her bodice and pulled a blanket up over her.  It still felt strange to be so cared for, but the feeling of it not being deserved was gone from her thoughts.  She gave herself a few more minutes to wake up and then began to make her way out of the tent.  

Nyx was sitting in front of the fire on a blanket.  A patch of ground before him had been overturned with the many stabs of his dagger while he had sat waiting for Cay to awake.  The tension she saw in his shoulders as he brought the tip of the blade back down into the earth and then flicked some of the dirt toward the flame made her feel mildly guilty.  The thought of the conversation that they needed to have, however, still made her slightly uneasy and she wondered if she could postpone it just a little longer.  

Besides… she thought to herself… talk isn’t all we need to do tonight… 

At the sound of the tent opening Nyx tightened his grip on the dagger and reflexively turned, ready to pounce if needed.  The bright amber sparks and soft smile of Cay meeting him, though, drained the tension out of him. 

“Elen en cormamin…”  she crawled the few feet over to him and as he opened his mouth to say more to her she silenced him by wrapping her arms around him, pressing her body against his back and her lips against his ear.  

“I’m fine… Morieramin… amin vesta.”  she punctuated her words with light kisses against his ear as her hands began to roam over his coat.  “I just need you… karneluva a’amin, nu silma...nu elen…”  

The questions and the thoughts that had been troubling him for the past few hours dissipated with her words.  Reaching behind him he grabbed her and pulled her onto his lap, pressing his lips against hers, his hands roaming over her body and through her hair.  “Manka lle merna…” He purred back to her. 

---

Breathing heavily he lay on his back looking up into the stars above them.  One hand was curled under the back of his head, the other was wrapped around the woman curled up against his side, her head resting on his chest, her legs tangled up with his.  The cool night breeze moved over their bare skin.  Just beyond the blanket the fire was burning down to a glow of red coals and the night was very dark.  

Cayrimisa was lazily trailing her fingers along the flesh of his chest.  

“Who are you?”  He whispered, finally asking the question again that had been burning in his mind since he had seen her outside of Taellyn’s shop earlier in the day.  

She responded with a soft whisper of her own, “Cayrimisa Shyndyn…” the voice was soft and tender as she spoke, but it carried not even a hint of hesitation.  

23.  In a zombie apocalypse how do you feel about your chances of survival? Most likely I would die in the first 24 hours, my skill set does not in any way make me prepared to deal with a zombie fight.  However, if by chance I could hide out long enough to get through the initial carnage I'd probably do okay.

24. If you had the opportunity to be an expert in any field, what would it be and why?  Forensic Pathologist, or Graeco-Roman Archeologist... 

25.  What country do you reside in? 

M.

Nice little 'walk in the park' Ody.  Karri will note it later, right now she's pretty focused on work.  

Repairs are underway, so far no need for a space walk... whew! 

Throwing a softball out there to science, sorry TAC I had already been working out the toss for science, but I'm sure you'll have plenty to do coming up.  I know the boss has got something up his sleeve... 

M. 

Starbase: 2365.05.15

USS Peregrine, Shuttle Bay 1 - 14:25

“Sir…” Peers spoke up from the transporter console. 

“Yes crewman?” Sa’eridon looks up from her PADD… heart already beginning to pound a little at the tone in Peers’ voice.  

“Sir… I think there has been a mistake.  We had pulled up the specs for a Type 7A navigation beacon, but I’ve located the beacon and it’s… well sir… it’s larger than what the specs say it should be.  I think it’s a Type 8-12.  I’m not sure how… perhaps Starfleet replaced it and didn’t update the files…. Or…”  Peers faded off, afraid to say that perhaps it was the Lt. that made a mistake about what beacon it is. 

Internally Sa’eridon begins cursing in her native tongue.  “Alright Peers.  I’ll get the new specs pulled up.  How does that affect our ability to transport it into the bay?”

“Technically it doesn’t, sir.  We can beam her up… it’s just that it might put a drain on the power systems, due to the size.  We were pushing the system as it was with the calculations for the 7A, but with the additional size in the 8-12 we’d be straining it.”  

Karri sighed a little bit and put her hand to her head, why was the headache tension threatening to return already?  “Okay, Peers…” she took a long deep breath to center herself again.  “We don’t want to put any unnecessary strain on our systems.  Let’s look into a tractor beam then…”  

“Yes sir, I think I can get that set up…” 

“You think?  Or you can?  We really only have about ten minutes or so… can you do it?”  Sa’eridon snapped a little harder than she would have liked, but she was so terrified of letting Kennedy down.  

Peers straightened up at her post.  “I can sir.  I’ll get it calculated and done.”  She piped up quickly and bent her head back down over the console to get to work.  

Sa’eridon began punching at her PADD, pulling up the specs for the correct navigation beacon with obvious angst. 

USS Peregrine, Shuttle Bay 1 - 14:35

“The beacon is now within range, sir.  Shall I begin the tractor beam?”  Peers said with a firmer confidence than she had spoken earlier.

“Yes… let’s go ahead and get that thing aboard.”  Sa’eridon replied and put aside her PADD.  She hoped that crash course on the beacon was going to be enough, it wasn’t that different from the 7A that she had been studying for the past day.  

“On it…”  Peers said and began to work on the console.  

USS Peregrine, Shuttle Bay 1 - 15:00

The tractor beam had worked well and the navigation beacon sat secured in the shuttle bay now.  It was decent sized, just a bit larger than one of their shuttles, but for all the fuss that it wasn’t causing her Sa’eridon had almost expected something a bit more ‘majestic’.  This machine was little more than an oversized tin can with spokes sticking out from it and a single control panel.  The seams were filled with space dust and the surface had been dented in many places by flying debris.  

As soon as it had been secured her team had begun their diagnostics.  They crawled over the machine with their tricorders like an army of ants on a freshly fallen grasshopper.  It hadn’t taken them long to determine what the issue was.  Instead of just denting the side of the beacon like most of the space debris had done it appeared that one rather self-important rock had punctured the outer shell and tore through it’s internal workings.  The magnetic interface field had been hit the hardest.  The beacon was still technically functioning, however, it’s messages were getting nowhere.  It was like a lighthouse with curtains drawn over it’s glass.  

The crew had carefully removed the offensive rock and placed it in an isolation container.  Sa’eridon was still nervous about bringing anything new on the ship without a full inspection first, she could hardly be blamed for that.  

While the crew continued to work on pulling out the affected sections of the beacon she stepped away from the clatter to make her reports.  

“Lt. Sa’eridon to the Bridge” she spoke into her commbadge. 

((OCC:  Assuming the Bridge responds))

“We’ve determined the malfunction on the beacon, sir.  A piece of space debris has punctured it and taken out the magnetic interface field along with some other wiring.  I anticipate another hour for those repairs.  I would also like to recommend replacing the outer casing while we have it on board.  We could simply patch the current hole, but the whole thing appears to have taken quiet a beating out here and I think a new outer casing is prudent for continuing function.  I believe we can replicate the necessary parts and have it ready to go with another two hours of work.  

“I’m sending the bit of rock to science.  My initial readings indicate that it is simply a piece of meteor, but a second inspection of it might not be a bad idea. 

“Have we determined if the beacon needs to be relocated to a more secure position in the system?” 

((OCC:  Assuming positive responses to all of this))

“When you get the new coordinates please send them over and we will get the unit reprogrammed.  That task should be relatively easy.”  

When she was finished with the bridge she tapped her commbadge again and this time called up another department. 

“Lt. Sa’eirodn to Science.” 

((OOC: Assuming a greeting from science.))

“I have a bit of rock here that we found in the beacon.  I’ve got it in an isolation container, and believe it to simply be flotsam and jetsam, but if you would like to send someone to shuttle bay 1 and collect it for further inspection that would be appreciated.”  

((OOC:  Assuming more positive responses))

“Good, I’ll see you shortly then…”  

She turned back to the beacon, her tail swishing slightly behind her as she looked it over.  Twice she clapped her hands together and moved to get back to work on the repairs.  Except for the slight glitch about what version of the beacon they were using things were going well.

We got 8 inches last week, which for Missouri is not unheard of, but not a regular occurance either.  The cold snap meant it stuck around too... however, it's finally going to hit 50F today and it's melting.  

I had given up shoveling out my van so I've been driving my husbands big truck for the past two weeks, maybe the giant pile of snow behind the van will melt and I'll get to drive my car again... 

Sorry to hear that you are still getting assaulted with the snow! 

Spring is around the corner... I hope. 

M.

18.  Favorite fictional dragon: Toothless

19. Current favorite book: The Night Circus 

20. Describe your favorite date/outing with your significant other. Going out to eat in fancy expensive restaurants, especially if I can convince him to try something crazy on the menu

21. Opinion on sea horses? The dads carry/give birth/raise their young... I'm on board with that!  Oh and yes they are adorable too.  

22. Fictional world I would like to visit, what I would I do there?  Star Trek... I'd love to sit in Ten Forward and just people watch...

23.  In a zombie apocalypse how do you feel about your chances of survival?

M.

Okay, so my current thoughts are that I'm going to stick with my teams original plan concerning the transporter.  However, once we get closer to the beacon they will make some kind of discovery that will make it impossible/unwise to beam it aboard.  

From a safety point of view keeping the crew on board the Peregrine to do repairs is the best bet imho.  So as long as it isn't too massively large to fit in a shuttle bay I'd like to then move to a plan B of tractor beaming it in.  

If however, it is too large to fit in the shuttle bay, or something else gets in the way of pulling it aboard then we'll move to the bee's and space suit up (OOC:  The concept of doing a space walk is probably the most terrifying thing I have ever thought of, and my recent viewing of 'The Midnight Sky' has only reinforced that).  I think in general trying to stay onboard a ship is always the best bet... 

M.

“Lle ma vanima, melamin,” he breathed, his smile appreciative and hungry all at once.  His ravenous gae travelled over her, again, and he could scarcely tear it away long enough to loosen the filly’s reins from his saddlehorn, “Nesamil Taellyn has truly outdone herself this time… Damn!” 

Cay simply tipped her fingers to the brim of her hat at the compliment.  “I think she knew I was coming back… and had exactly what I would need ready to go.  I’m afraid I’ve run up your tab a bit…”  

“Worth every coin…” 

Clucking his tongue and with a gentle tug on the reins, he beckoned the piebald filly to follow as he closed the distance between himself and the vision that was Cayrimsa Ettelenya.  His free hand slithered around her waist, pulled her to him.  Her own fingers hooked into his belt as he moved in and she made sure to close any little distance left between them.  He kissed her eagerly before slipping the horse’s reins into Cay’s scarred palm.  “For you, elen en cormamin,” he smiled wickedly, “And yes, let’s go do this before I take it to mind to see how easily all of that comes off, yes?”  

When he broke the kiss she gave him a light push back with her hands on his stomach and stood up fully herself, taking the reins in hand.  

“Ohh… it won’t be easy.  It’s quite the assemblage.”  She ran her hands down the front of the bodice.  “You won’t be disappointed after the effort, however.  I’ve even got a surprise for you underneath off of this, but… yes, let’s go, that can all wait until later.  It’s time to get out of this city... for now.”  

She didn’t wait for his response.  Taking the reins she went straight for the filly and considered the saddle.  Frowning at the height she turned as if to ask Nyx for help.  Before she could ask though, another thought came to her mind, hera, and she lightly touched her hip. Leaning into the horse she took her hand off her hip and put it on the mane of the horse.  Airily she whispered into its ear.  It neighed and then obediently lowered it’s front half to the ground, lowering the saddle in the process to a much better height.  Gently she patted it’s mane, “Diola lle…” With ease she then mounted the horse, clicked her tongue and the horse rose back up.  

“I’m going to leave you behind if you don’t get on that horse Nyx…”  She quipped as he gaped at her, and used the reins to turn the horse out into the main thoroughfare.  

It did not take the horse elf long to catch up with her as she wove her horse through town heading toward the nearest gate.  She didn’t speak while they rode, but her thoughts wandered as the streets passed by her.  

Cayrimisa remembered how much she had longed to come here, and how hard she had fought not only to arrive, but to carve out some kind of existence in this place.  Now she was leaving and without a single thing to her name.  The tapestries she had spent so many hours on were still hanging in her flat down by the wharfs.  The Bedine coin still sitting on the lantern where she had last tried to heat it, to press into Nyx’s flesh she recalled.  Even her title, the ‘Wharf Witch’ no longer seemed to fit, nor did her own ‘name;’ Ettelenya carried so little meaning now.  

No… you aren’t leaving with nothing…  Cay turned and glanced over at her partner, his dark figure astride the horse, head held high even with the pointed ears on the sides, riding so easily in his saddle, his eyes darting between the throngs of people beneath the horses feet and her.  He couldn’t seem to go more than a few seconds without his eyes flitting back to her. The tree which she had so carefully woven into cloth was now imprinted on him, and the power she had hoped to wield with that coin was but a shadow in comparison with the power that he had opened up for her.  She would use his name now and be Morier en Arwenho.  He was what she had needed, she just hadn’t known at the time.  

Atta’llie tengwe elen… 

----

Kylo Bensigton had always cut a memorable image and today was no different.  One of his feet rested on the seat of a chair, while the other was firmly planted on the ground, he leaned an arm on his raised thigh.  His impressive height made it easy for him to keep an eye not just on the game of skulls being played on the table, but also on the proceedings of the city street around him.  Tattoos had been slashed across the brown skin of his cheeks and arms, and a long pale scar ate a jagged ridge down the side of his neck.  Around the table another five men were crowded, they were mainly fixated on the game, however.  Each time the bones were rolled they would quiet down for a pause and then would erupt again once the results were presented.  In an hour or so he would put an end to the game and get the nest moving out to collect payments.  For now, though, they were enjoying the outdoor cafe and the warm afternoon sun that was out, winter was on its way and there wouldn’t be many more days like this. 

“Double Skells!  Again!  Gregorum!  Time te pay me… again!”  Petrick burst into raucous laughter at his luck, it had been good this afternoon.  The squat man with the eye patch grinned happily and gave the smaller man who sat next to him a heavy shove.

“Yer cheatin’!” The smaller man whined, rubbing his arm where the other man had shoved him.  “Them dice be rigged, by Naxir’s balls!  I won’ pay yer filthy arse nothing!”  

“Oh you’re going to pay one way or another.”  Petrick glared at Gregorum with his one good eye, grinding his fist into the palm of his other hand.  

“Now Petrick…” This time it was the ginger haired man with the matching thick beard who spoke up as he began gathering up the bones off the table for his roll.  The words came out around the thick butt of a cigar.  “Gi’e Greg a bone, ye know he’s been having it rough.  I tink I heard h’ wife left ‘im fer his sister!”  

The others at the table gave an appreciative whoop at the insult to Gregorum.  

“I’ll be breaking a bone if he don’ pay me what I owed!”  Petrick roared, starting to get up out of his chair.

“I ain’t even mar-” the smaller man began whining out his protest but it was cut short by a whistle flung over their heads.  All of their heads shot up to the Lieutentant from whence the whistle had come.  On his face they caught a leering grin and he pointed out into the road.

“Check out de dame on dat horse…”  The dark man grunted and grabbed at his crotch.  The others at the table immediately gave up on the game and turned to see the object of this display.  As they did they quickly found the target, a brunette in black and grey sitting astride a piebald horse. 

“Oh…” the ginger haired man, Crestar by name, pressed his hands to his heart and groaned heavily, “oh te be tha’ horse!”  

“Please… dat broad would eat ye up and spit ye back out.”  Petrick smirked, keeping his eye on the way her body moved in the saddle,  “I tink I’d risk it… she’s welcome te do whate’er she wants te me....”  

While his men were debating who was man enough to take the woman, Bensigton had directed his attention to the man who was riding the horse next to her.  The figure was elven, which was odd in itself, but the dark clothing, the heavy dark mane, the pale skin...

“Wai’ a gods be damned moment!”  he thundered.  “Is that Nyx paching Shyndyn?”  

“Where?” Came the startled reply from one of the other talons.

“On de fucking horse next te her you blind as bats!?”  Bensigton now stood on both feet, his eyes never leaving the pair on the horses, but paying more attention to the elf than the woman in the hat now.

Gregorum shook his head and squinted as he tried to look at the rider better. “No!  Could’na be!  Boss killed dat horse-pacher.”  

“No…” Crestar rose up as well, putting his hands on his hips as he joined in the intense observation.  “Did’na ‘ear?  He were still alive in de mornin’.  Af’er a full night wit Tselika, the bastard was still breathin’” there was a note of admiration in his tone as he told this to his next, “but tha’ just… tha’ canna be ‘im, he’s gots te still be balled up an’ bleedin’ somewhere’sl…”  

As the horses drew closer Bensigton finally caught a good glimpse of the elfs yellow eyes as they moved over the patrons at the cafe.  The dark haired man slammed his fist on the table.  “Tha’s him!  Tha’s paching Nyx!”  

“May’haps… but… I though’ ‘e only pached ‘orses, what’s dat loverly bit o’ arse doin’ ridin’ wit’ him?”  One of the talons with a few missing teeth raised his opinion.  

“Weren’t ‘e workin’ wit dat spellslingin’ witch?  Maybe dat’s her…”  Gregorum offered up.

Crestar, who seemed to have paid more attention to gossip than his fellow talons, spoke up again.  “Boss put ‘im wit the Wharf Witch, sure… but… pach, dat migh’ be Nyx, but dere’s no way in hells dat’s Cayrimisa!  My wick’s already itchin’ to be in da bitch on de horse, but ‘e shrivels up jus’ tinking about the witch.”  

“I donna care who de pach she is!  Nyx be headin’ to de Go’ners Gate.  Boss ain’t gonna like ‘im skippin’ town.  Ting’s ain’t good righ’ now, shit’s been pilin’ up all week, an I know dat bloody elf’s got sumptin te do wit it all.”  Bensigton was glaring intently by now.

“Wha’ sho’ we do, Kylo?  We ain’t got no orders...”  

The tall dark man rubbed his hand over the growth of stubble on his chin and tightened his eyes on the elf on the horse.  “Petrick… Crestar… follow ‘em.  Kep yer distance, but don’ lose ‘em.  Find ye a cart, ye wonna be able te keep up on yer feet.  I’m gon’ go talk te de Boss, de res’ of ye, stay ‘lert, I dun know wat dis means yet.”  

The two men singled out bounced onto their feet, nodded and headed out into the road, looking for the first unattended cart that they could get their hands on. 

----

Several hours had fallen by and the city was dropping into the darkening horizon.  The road they were on had narrowed down to a single pair of wagon ruts dug deep into hard packed earth.  On either side of the road the tall green stalks of corn nearly ready to be harvested rose up almost to their heads.  A mile or so behind them a single horse cart with two riders was slowly making its way along their path.  

The appearance of the cart, all the way back inside the walls of Drasnia, had not gone unnoticed.  It had happened shortly after a group of men, likely a full Hellkite nest Cay had guessed, had spotted them.  During their ride many had made notice of the striking pair, but that group of men had made the biggest fuss over them.  Nyx had noticed as well, she could tell by the tightening of his grip on the reins and the tenseness in his shoulders, they both knew, though, that getting out of Drasnia without incident was their best course of action.  A short while they had passed through the Governor’s Gate and Cayrimisa had not even looked back as Drasnia pulled behind her.  

Now that they were alone on the road she slowed the pace of her filly and Nyx followed suit, it was time to shorten the distance between them and the cart.  She turned to look over at Nyx, “So… think we’ve let those guys live long enough?”  

When he indicated that he was more than ready to take them out she grinned.  

“Well… let’s make this fun.”  She turned in her saddle, steadied herself and began her spell.  Her left hand rose in a wide half arc toward her forehead, her right hand rose palm facing the road and pushed out under the arc drawn by her other hand.  “Hiise Suula…” the witch whispered and then pulled her left hand back toward her body as she turned her palm so it was facing up toward the sky then she leaned in and blew across it, much like she had earlier in the day.  This time, however, it wasn’t a small blue flame that erupted but instead a billowing cloud of greenish grey fog began to materialize just in front of her hand.  In moments it filled the road behind them, she continued to blow.  The grey tendrils licked their way down the road, found their way into the rows of corn and rose up to try and touch the sky.  

“Now we get to find them…  I think we’ve got the upper hand though.”  

I was originally thinking transporter... but I was also thinking that it might not work, something about gamma particles or some such interferring... so having a back up plan, or a other plan altogether would be good.  I hadn't considered power drain on transporting such a large object.  

I don't mind going back and making an adjustment to the post... 

Tractor or bees would both make sense.  Although as a player I'm still miffed that there are no real bees... I happen to have a big affection for those creatures and I misread Ferrero's thoughts and totally thought he was going to have bees on the ship and maybe big plans to make some mead, and no he was just talking about some stupid shuttlecraft things.    

M.