The Formative Years - Gules

The woods bordering the Elven lands of Faydwer are a warm and natural place, the hearth and home of many of Norrath's finest citizens; but even so, there are parts of this environment that are fraught with danger, where continued life relies on a quick wit and ready defenses. One such area is the home of a small band of Tunare's Outriders, placed there as a warning against any threat to the Homelands from the south- the all but forgotten first line of defense for the forests and glades of the Faydark.

It was into this encampment that a figure crept, all gaunt lines and flowing robes, to deposit a quietly weeping child at the foot of a cot- the cot of one Maeryn Fairbough, trainer and sometimes leader of the small outpost. The child had been delivered some weeks ago by a woman Maeryn knew well, one some may have said he loved. The infant was the result of a brief and stormy marriage of disparate souls, one that burned brightly and all too quickly, leaving the child with a father he would never know, and a mother lost to complications of a difficult birth. His caretaker nurtured and protected him, until this day- the day he would be delivered into the hands of those who would guide and teach him, and perhaps give him a place of safety in which to prosper. As he set the child down, he whispered into the tiny ear

"Fare thee well, young one. Perhaps some day you'll discover the gifts I've bestowed upon you, gifts to make you more than your Goddess ever dreamt...."

As his words trailed off to silence, he placed a folded note next to the now sleeping infant, and was gone.

The discovery of the child soon after was met with mixed interest and trepidation- how were these Rangers, all but forgotten and isolated, to raise an infant? Would the presence of a female be better for him? After long discussion, Maeryn announced that he would take responsibility for the needs of the child, having been so close to the one who birthed him. Thus was a bond formed between the two, one that remained firm well past the time of Gules' coming to maturity. Even as other young Elves came and went, a constant flow of classmates sent to learn archery and woodcraft from the Ranger many proclaimed the best, Gules remained closest to the gruff and distant Maeryn. It was from this mentor that he learned the way of his ancestors,the nomadic and wild Elves who first thrived in the Faydark. As he grew, he was taught the use of knife and bow, the way to move as a part of the forest, unseen and unheard, and how to live off the gifts of Tunare without exploiting or spoiling them. Above all, he was taught that this way was the one true way of his people- the way of Nature, not building cities, growing weak and lazy in comfort and excess. Many a time, Maeryn reminded Gules of this fact- usually with some reference to Elves not being birds, building nests in the trees...and almost invariably with a strong expression of disdain for their city-dwelling cousins.

Like the father he never knew, Maeryn provided the basis for Gules' young life, sharing the ways and stories passed through generations of Fier'Dal. The child that was left on that night became a young adult under this guidance, with but one goal in his life: To one day ride at Maeryn's side as a trusted equal... to be called Outrider.

The beginnings of the wish were granted him one fall afternoon, when Maeryn approached the young Elf with an offer to join a patrol- an offer which set Gules' mind racing, and caused a large smile to grace his features as the preperations were made. He checked his readied gear endlessly, not wishing to be the cause of delay or trouble, and the hours crawled past, his anticipation eating at him constantly, wanting his chance...

"We're ready, Gules- come." Maeryn's voice settled the anticipation, replacing it with a deep nervousness. With his stomach in knots and his eyes wide, Gules climbed aboard the horse provided, and waited- not suspecting he would soon face one of the two events that would change his life and leave a mark on him, one which would remain for many years, until the circle closed in the Dawnshroud Peaks.

They rode through the Faydark, quietly, seeking any threat to the lands they all called home. Gules rode quietly in his place behind Maeryn, watching closely, learning. Ahead, the green and brown clad backs of several Outriders were visible through the persitent haze, riding easily, light conversation and the odd laugh being passed around like a shared bottle of wine. The young Ranger was filled with a feeling of contentment, and the thought coming to him- 'Finally, Maeryn trusts me to ride with him..this is the best day ever.' A brief nudge of this heels and a word to the small steed prompted it to carry Gules closer to the riders ahead. This caused him to draw near the side of the closest of the Outriders, Gules reaching over to gently tug a sleeve, wishing to tell Maeryn of his gratitude in being allowed to ride with them. Before the contact is made, Maeryn turned to face him- eyes wide with warning, a shout beginning to form on his lips- too late, as the horse Gules was riding fell, tumbling the young Ranger to the ground with a jarring impact. As the shouts arose from the riders, he rolled to see a large Orc wielding a heavy axe, which was caught firmly between the dying horse's ribs. Panicked, frantic, Gules turned to run- just as a hard hand closed on his ankle.

The following moments passed in a chaotic haze- a sensation of being dragged along the ground at great speed, held by the legs, face down. A sharp stone opening a jagged tear in the flesh below one eye, trying to scream for his mentor that he was being taken, only to be silenced by a savage kick to the abdomen, then being slung over a shoulder, being carried, unable to breathe, into the dark forest. A quick, quiet sound of a bow letting an arrow fly, the Orc crashing to the ground, pinning him, as the blood rushed out to fall scalding onto his face. A single soft cry broke from his throat, his voice finally responding to his will. Crushed cruelly under the weight of the dying Orc..hot, corrupted blood spurting from the wound in it's neck, into his eyes, trickling into his mouth, evil and burning like acid. Suddenly, the weight was removed- his unnamed resuer is standing, a hand extended to pull hiim to his feet. Gules caught a flash of movement behind the Outrider, his warning shouted too late as the Ranger fell forward, clutching at the cruel shaft that had neatly transited his beating heart.

Reacting without thought, Gules rolled to his hands and knees, crawling fast, trying to gain his feet. Finally, he was up, running...running from the death behind, toward the voice of Maeryn, calling for him.Desperately, he tried to answer the shout but couldn't, retching at the taste and memory of black blood on his tongue and in his throat- so he ran, his lungs burning, belly a pit of fire, drawing near to safety. His joy at having survived was broken by a sudden shock of pain, a black arrow piercing the muscle at the joint of neck and shoulder. Agony, pure and bright, like nothing he'd felt before, then paralysis in his right arm. Gules grabbed at the arrow, trying to pull it from his flesh, to stop the burning..but it was securely lodged, held to his flesh by the cruelly barbed shaft.

"Not much farther...be strong, Ranger. Maeryn would not allow this to stop him." This litany, whispered through clenched teeth, seemed to strengthen him. The the sound of pursuit drawing nearer forced him to move, to get to the others and safety- but his legs began to fail him, going numb, his thoughts drifting...the idea that lying down would be bliss, that just resting would give him the strength to complete his escape. Finally. with no strength to go on, he fell forward- the ground rushed into his face, followed by another shock of pain as the impact twisted the arrow cruelly in the wound. Gules lay still, panting shallowly, no will left to go on. He welcomed the encroaching darkness, his heart thundered in his ears, and he fell into the black void.

In his fading mind, the blackness lifted, and Gules was suddenly bathed in a white, pure light- a light felt more than seen. Images flashed by,in rapidfire succession..faces he didn't know, gatherings and times from the past, foreign landscapes swarming with warring armies...a city burning, tinting the water red...a fleeting glimpse of something comforting, a picture that filled him with a yearning to reach out, though it was nothing more than a shock of silky crimson surrounding two points of glittering green. Meaningless, yet meaning everything. Over it all,a voice, soft and powerful, loving yet commanding.."Not yet, young one...you have much to do, and are yet to meet your destiny...be strong, my soldier..go and meet it. Your salvation is near at hand."

Roughly ripped from the soothing light, Gules' eyes flickered open to a maelstrom of sound and movement. Fragments of discussion came to his ears, his mind struggling to understand: "Poison...healer, now....not long". Then, into Gules' field of view came the face of his trainer and companion, care worn and streaked with blood. "Gules, be still..we're helping as best we can."

His throat parched, Gules tried to speak, to tell Maeryn of the experience he'd been through- but could manage only a hoarse whisper, drowned in the tumult of sounds. "Maeryn..I...she showed me...". The words ended in a sudden, terrifying scream of pain as the arrow was pulled the rest of the way through, followed by blackness as conciousness fled from the young Ranger once again.

________________________________________________________________________________________

In time, the wound healed, leaving only a knot of scar tissue to remind Gules of that day's events. Under the tutelage of Maeryn, he immersed himself in training, learning woodcraft, tracking, archery, and various techniques with blades- all the things he would have to master before earning the distinction he craved. Other students came and went, but Gules stayed- a permanent fixture at the remote camp, having noplace else to call home. The Lesser Faydark was home, the Outriders his family, and conflict a way of life.

As Gules grew toward maturity, it became clear that he was going to be exceptionally tall- a full 2 hands above his comrades in most cases. This was the subject of some discussion, of course, but Gules enjoyed his difference, never being one to fade into the crowd. Maeryn often joked that he would soon outgrow his mount, and that they would need to capture a mammoth from Velious to prevent the young Ranger from wearing the soles of his boots through. He took the gibes and comparisons to Ogres in stride, usually silently- and carried on with his training, letting the days wear him to the point of an exhausted sleep.

Finally, the day Gules thought would never arrive dawned. At some point, each of the students went before the council to be judged, and to hear whether or not they had been selected to serve with the Ouriders, having undergone years of testing. The preperations for travel went by in a flash, and soon the party was ready to begin the trip to the city. Gules arrived at the departure point well ahead of schedule, an was awaiting Maeryn and the others when they arrived.

"Feeling ready, Gules?" Maeryn asked, looking intently at the tall youth. "I can see you are, yes. Just remember to focus, lad, and all will be well." Gules nodded, and the band of Elves climbed astride their mounts and headed north.

They rode easily, relaxed and alert at the same time. Gules noticed his senses were tuned to a fever pitch- hearing everything, the sounds of the forest, and of horses' hooves on the trail. In the distance, the city of Kelethin appeared, his excitement and apprehension growing as they drew near. The sound of hooves at his side, then the voice of Maeryn, clear and strong, speaking encouragement.."You'll be fine, lad...no worries at all. Everyone goes through the rite of selection..I did, and you're much better prepared than I ever was." He spurred his mount forward, looking back over his shoulder at his young charge. "Just concentrate, focus...and always look Lord Fireshine in the eye. Don't waver for an instant, show no weakness."

"Yes, Maeryn...I'll remember that. Being accepted as an Outrider means much to me...the years of preparation were in your hands, now the final test is in mine." Looking over to the one who has meant so much to him, Gules braved a smile- but it couldn't hide the rapid gallop of his heart, or soothe the feeling gnawing at his mind-"What if I fail? I'll never be able to face anyone here again..."

Suddenly, they were arrived at their destination and the horses tied to graze. Gules looked up at a hand on his shoulder, into the steady eyes and some last words from his mentor: "Do not be late, lad." Gules nodded understanding, and moved to the elevator. He went up into the bustling city, studying everything...many things he had not seen before, his senses excited by the sights and sounds so different from the quiet woods he had always called home. Looking at the merchant's goods, avoiding the curious gazes of the many who stopped to stare- whether at his height, or his obvious discomfort among the throng, Gules couldn't tell. All he could see were the people everywhere- fighting men, tradesmen, musicians..and the beautiful maidens of his race, softly inviting, yet intimidating in their unfamiliarity. In this manner, the time melted away quickly, and he soon found himself outside the Hall of the Outriders.

Several young hopefuls were to take the rite of selection that day- they stood in the queue, families or friends near, and discussed the coming trials in hushed voices. Gules stood, eyes moving from one face to the next as if sizing up the competition. A sudden pang of loneliness suddenly pierced him, alone in the busy crowd, causing a hard blink of his dark eyes, forcing a bitter tear back. Turning his eyes downward, he filled his mind with his lessons- the components for making different arrows, the tracks of beasts, how to tell direction in the dark....

His reverie was broken in an instant- as a clear girlish voice said "Excuse me, please", followed by the brush of a hand across his shoulder as she made room to pass. He turned his head toward the voice, catching a fleeting glimpse of bright emerald eyes and a shy smile, then she was gone into the crowd, so suddenly he never had time for thought. A warm, penetrating feeling emanated from the point of the slight contact as he stood a moment as if stunned, his studies forgotten, rubbing gently at the spot. Turning swiftly about, his eyes scanned the crowd. Only one thing caught his eye...descending the ramp, he saw a flash of slender shoulders, topped by a head of unruly hair the color of ginger. Involuntarily, he took a step that way as if to give chase, stopped only by the realization that his turn before the Elders was fast approaching. Almost frantic, Gules turned to a youth nearby, grabbed his arm roughly, and demanded: "That girl...she just passed. Red hair...who is she? Does she live here?"

Startled, the other began to answer, "I really don't know..I've seen her, but am not sure of her name. I believe it is..." The boy's answer was interrupted by a booming voice in his ear, the voice of Maeryn, displeased. "Gules! Do you wish to fail before you start? They call..get in there, boy!" Followed by a push toward the doors. Looking back, Gules attempted to make out the name he wished to learn..but was unable. Forcing her from his mind, he turned to face the door, took a deep breath to clear his head, and strode into the Hall to face his Elders. As he entered, the bright clear light of day was left, causing him to blink several times as his eyes adjusted to the torchlit room. The leaders of Faydark's Champions faced him, seated in high-backed wooden chairs, each eyeing him intently- as if looking for a sign of nervousness or uncertainty. Drawing himself to his full height and steeling his nerves, Gulerian spoke to the gathering.

"I am Gulerian Aspenglade, Apprentice of Maeryn Fairbough and follower of the Law of Tunare. I come before this Council with the wish that I be accepted into the ranks of Tunare's Outriders, and have trained long and hard for the right. Question me well, and judge me as you see fit." As he finished the oft uttered words, he took great care to meet the eyes of Lord Fireshine, as Maeryn had suggested. The Elder met his gaze, neither willing to be the first to look away, until Fireshine cleared his throat and bade Gules to take a seat on the floor facing his judges.

"You say you wish to become an Outrider. Many speak these words, but few can understand what it means." He began, breaking a silence of some time. "Even the majority of those who sit here in judgement have not served in this capacity, and we must be certain that you know what such a posting entails." It seemed to Gules that the eyes of the Elders were locked on him, and finding him wanting in many ways. He risked a glance away from the speaker, but saw no clue on the faces of the others, all of them regarding him with interest, possibly even care, but there was no sign of hostility or prejudice.

His attention was drawn back to Lord Fireshine as he continued. "The life of an Outrider is solitary, and fraught with danger. You'll be far from your people most of the time. The demands of such a life will likely deny you the pleasures of a wife and children." As he spoke, the Elder Ranger fingered a worn sheet of parchment, glancing at it and then passing it to his right. His ears tuned to the words, Gules could not stop his eyes following the paper as it was passed from one Elf to the next, each reading it and passing it on, their faces revealing nothing. "Your visits to the city will be rare, and most here will look upon you as an outsider. Are you prepared to accept these things?"

Forcing his eyes back to the questioner, Gules though of Maeryn's voice in his ear, steadied himself, and answered, "Aye, Lord- I am well aware of the sacrifices required of an Outrider, having lived among them my entire life. I realize I will be denied a family..." A remembrance of bright green eyes and a light touch came unbidden to his mind,but he forced it down to continue. "These sacrifices are a small price to pay for the honor of serving as Tunare's instrument and protecting these lands." As the words came forth, Gules felt himself stand taller, and his voice grow more confident. The rest of the questions were routine, things he had gone over with Maeryn until he feared his head would burst. At last, the Council stood before him, and Lord Fireshine stepped forward, his hand extended. In it, he held a small creast of fine Mithril, bearing the device of Tunare's Outriders. His face softened as he pinned it on the ragged cloak around Gules' shoulders, then stood and saluted. "Welcome, Outrider..."

Gules returned the salute, formal and proud. The rest of the council formed a line to the door, salutes and welcomes coming from each as the new Outrider passed back into the bright light of day.

The Formative Years - Ally

"Come on, Trey!" The youthful voice impatience echoed through the trees, ruffling the birds making their homes in the aged oak's limbs.

"I'm trying, Ally. We're going too high!" He was at least a decade younger. Her own eyes flashed up at her angrily, blazing an emerald green over his plump, flushed cheeks. He scrambled up the limbs, panting as he tried to catch up with his sister. "Wait up, Ally!"

"Oh, don't be such a brownie!" The elfess craned her neck down towards her brother with a disapproving scowl. Mother would take a switch to her hide if she'd found out she'd brought Treybor tree climbing, much less this grand and ancient oak tree. With a grumbled curse befitting one of her many older brothers, she rolled her bright green pair skywards and extended her hand. Trey thrust his own and laced his slim fingers around her wrist. Grunting slightly, she hefted him up to the branch on which she was perched and promptly made a display of her pink tongue. Treybor was quick to respond in turn, but she had already turned her back on him, ascending to poke her headful of ginger locks up through the verdant canopy covering Greater Faydark.

The sun bathed them both in a soft, golden warmth, like a kiss from Mother Tunare herself. The sky was a brilliant blue, painted with the Gods' brush and bespeckled by delightful puffs meandering lazily over their starborn sea. Pointing to the northeastern waves of treetops, she grinned down at her brother. "There! There is the way to the Butcherblock mountains, and beyond that the Ocean of Tears ... and beyond that..."

"Yeah, yeah ... beyond which you can get your foot off my hand, sis." Trey's tender digits were pinned against the bark by her own well used foot. She huffed as a proper older sister should and gave a slight grind of her heel down. After she was satisfied by his yelp and submission, she released him to continue climbing.

A woodpecker with its crimson crest fluttered from the leaves to chitter some rushed protest of their disturbance. As she drew closer to the verdant canopy overhead, a rushing sound assailed her pointed ears. Ally winced at the suddenness of the sound, roaring through her ears like the ocean forever crashing on a distant shore. Shaking off the sensation, she continued the climb to the top when she had been certain Trey hadn't seen the moment of weakness. Higher up, the rush came again, however more distinct in the sound of a hundred voices, raised up in a roar of agony.

That was when she saw the smoke. A great column of oily black boiled up from the far northern boarders of her land, tainting the lovely blue sky in its poisonous cloud. "Oh, Sweet Tunare.."

"What? What is it, Ally?" Trey had wriggled up to a perch a little higher than her branch so that he could see over the leaves. His verdant pair that mirrored his sisters grew saucer wide, blinked in disbelief and he spout a word that need never repeating. As surprised as he was to see the column of smoke, he was even more surprised that Alluriel had regained her faculties quick enough to give him an admonishing slap upside his head. Trey yelped and rubbed the back of his head, giving her a threatening glare. She paid those green eyes no mind and gave a tiny push to his shoulder.

"Down. Now ... We have to warn the Guards. The Orcs are burning the Faydark." Both elfin children scrambled down the tree limbs, the woodland elves more at home barefoot in these branches than on the grassy pelt of the earth. As surefooted as the goats in the mountains, they wove between the creaking boughs and struck the grassy carpeting in a dead run. Treybor was faster, more accustomed to his shorter legs than her ever changing ones as she grew. Muscles burned in screaming protest as they pounded over the weathered paths leading back to Kelethin.

An all too familiar grunt and snarl caught behind her, a great trunk of a fist hammering into her back and it sent her in a sprawl. Treybor skidded up a small cloud of dust as he turned. "Ally!!"

"Trey! Get out of here and warn the others!" The spitfire elfess rolled to her back and curled her feet up, vaulting the green beast over her as he lunged for the kill. The orc sailed over head, face digging a trench into the dirt path. That seemed to spur Trey's conviction to stay or go, but someone had to warn the guards. Alluriel paused long enough to see him crest the next hill, safely out of range as another three orcs broke into a run at her sight.

Trey may have been faster, but she was no slow doe. Fleet footed and nimble, she cut a path through the thick woods, to keep them from Treybor's hasty trail. Weaving through the trunks, she led them on a merry jaunt until she'd had the weakling pawns cry for Centurions in their frustration. She'd flashed a grin, impish as the fluttering pixies', over her shoulder at the chasing party, confident now that she was beyond their grasp. Well ... that is until she bounced off the green wall, snorting in it's discontent. Yellowed eyes leered at her as she froze underneath the legionnaire, straddling her prone figure as the others caught up. Panting, fetid breaths tested the strength of her stomach and she'd tried to shuffle away.

The orcs formed a lethal circle, keeping her imprisoned and their thick lips curled in corroded, broken toothed grins. The legionnaire bent, curling a huge fistful of her brocaded leaf vest and lifting her clear off the ground until her fleet feet dangled precariously. Her nails curled into kitten's claws, digging into the thick arm that held her aloft futilely. Her eyes squeezed shut, the wind howling in the trees surrounding, and she thought it a fitting lament for her death. Alluriel braced for the blow that would surely cleave her head from her shoulders but none came.

Daring to open her eyes, she was at her feet, her cropped, crimson locks blown in this torrent and she saw the very wind lift her orcish assailants and fling them into the trees. They ran from this unseen source, screaming in pain as each of them in turn was bathed in the burning throes of his next spell. So in awe of this power, she hadn't realized she'd collapsed, crumpling into a weary heap as the carnage continued. When he stepped from the woods, the half elven druid bent to her side, holding her shoulders securely. Alluriel could remember his face, etched in the dying light of the day and weathered with worry. He dared a gentle smile, his dark hair haloed in a golden rim of sunlight.

"You'll be all right." His voice was a cool balm on her frayed nerves, a soothing calm that made her sag against his supportive frame.

"But the fire ... and the Orcs ... have to.." Silencing her with a gentle press of her fingertip on her protesting mouth, he smiled again, warmly reassuring.

"It's all been taken care of. We got Treybor's message and the fires are being put out. Our warriors are beating back Crushbone's minions and soon they will be returned forcefully back to their own lands. What you did today was very brave, Alluriel ... but you could have been killed."

"I couldn't let them burn the trees ... all of those trees, screaming in pain." Her head tilted against his shoulder, her voice softly absent.

His dark blue eyes turned on her with intense scrutiny. The look was gone quickly however as her cinnamon lashes fluttered over her emerald eyes, and her head began to tip. His arms wound about her shoulders and under her knees, lifting her gently from the grass and heading back to Kelethin in a trot. He passed Faydark's Champions, locked in fierce combat for every pace of Faydwer they won back from the orcs. The sounds of battle faded into the background as Thilos hugged the elfin girl's limp form against his chest. He'd heard the screaming of the trees only moments before the elf boy scrambled down the path and tumbled into the guards there. He prattled on about a great fire where the Orcs were meaning to march on Faydark. They'd thought he was joking, a boy's tale from an overripe imagination, but he knew differently. He had heard the screams, and now he knew, so did the child in his arms.

On his recommendation, the Guards had rushed out to where the young boy had pointed and found the tale to be true. Faydark's lovely oaken woods were charred black, their bark split and bleeding sap in their silent agony. How his heart wept to see them, but the boy had spoken of a sister, lost to the orcs. Her tracks were fresh, blatent in the broken blades of grass and scattered twigs, so he'd followed and found the girl. And now, to learn that she is one of Tunare's touched was no longer mere coincidence. She'd dozed in his arms as content as a kitten, curled against his chest with her breathing soft and even. He arrived in Kelethin, land of half of his ancestry, a hero with the brave child tucked securely in the crook of his arm. Her mother cooed and showered him with profuse thanks, sheltering her offspring in their treetop home, earning fifteen minutes of unwanted fame bringing back the daughter of one of the city's most prominent councilmen.

His business had been to come to Kelethin's bank, make use of its facilities breifly, but now his original itinerary was clouded in the courageous emerald eyes of one young elf. If she heard the voices of the trees, she was surely touched by Tunare and he had to cultivate that before it grew destructively out of control.

Ally floated between worlds for the rest of that evening, dosed heavily, and catching snippets of conversation from the other rooms. First calm, but strained, then heatedly arguing... she even thought she heard her mother weeping, but it was impossible to tell what was real and what wasn't. Soon the door to her room opened, and the half-elf stood in the frame. "When it comes time for your Choosing, Ally... You'll meet me at Judas's lift."

The Choosing was the time for examinations into the paths for the wilder elves of the trees. She was spared the roads well worn by family tradition, cast off as a pretty trophy for the next up and coming politician. Ally would have more with her life, and when the day finally came, she bid her family a brief farewell and was strolling through the early morning bustle of the awakening Kelethin. Vendors rummaged and sorted inventories, took stock and noted, as porches were swept and the first rising voices lifted with the sun, birthing a new day to the Faydark in a musical tribute.

Already there were long lines slithering through the doors and over bridges, hopefuls for all manners of callings, from smiths to tailors to bards and warriors. Weaving through the snaking crowds, she touched her hand to the shoulder of one tall figure, lanky and dark haired, as she murmured a soft pardon. Her fingers made a feather light landing on him that gave her a little jolt, surprise forcing her eyes up to meet his darker ones. Ally gave a shy smile, her cheeks flushing lightly as she scurried away, melting into the throng wondering why she suddenly felt so burningly embarrassed.

She barely had time to dwell on her roiling emotions before Judas's lift was before her. Ally drew a deep breath and steeled herself to make that first step on her trek to becoming a druid.

(I have lost so much of this :( Gules never forgets his first sight of Alluriel, and several years later they are reunited by chance in the Blood of Thex, and army led by the Prince of Neriak (which is the Dark Elf city). It is an odd alliance, since Dark and Light Elves are mortal enemies- but they feel the need to unite against Amrian, a powerful Necromancer bent of widespread destruction.)

A Joining of Souls - Gules

The party was gathered atop a low hill in the Dawnshroud Peaks, overlooking a small lake that glittered underneath the bright, noonday sun of Luclin like a scattering of precious cerulean gems. Comprised of members of various races and vocations, the group ranged from the short, but stout Baekken, a noble member of the furfooted Halflings, to the proud and tall figure of the Koada'Dal Paladin, Samail. The majority were Fier'Dal, however, as were the two nervously fidgeting figures that seemed to be the focus of everyone's rapt attention. Crowned with hair the color of spun gold, and watching with darkly intense eyes, Gulerian Aspenglade was wearing the raiment of one of Tunare's Outriders, the sworn protectors of the wood. Diligently at his side, Alluriel Silverymoon, a crimson-haired Druidess, scanned the crowd with a pair of startling emerald eyes. Both stood in front of Priest Windthistle, shuffling their feet and awaiting his commands.

Trading a nervous glance, Alluriel and Gulerian exchanged a series of rapid-fire thoughts- assurances, questions about preparedness for this, the most important day of their young lives. Calmed by the familiar feel of Ally's mind joined with his, Gules took a furtive glance at the gathering. There was Thale, tall and regal, preparing his ceremonial gear. Renk, the High Priest of his Matron Saeliu, regarding the couple with his normal, slight grin. The Ivy-clad figure of Glenorian, a sister of his profession and one of his few true friends. The thought crossed his mind quickly " This is why we do what we do..for our companions, our friends..." But was interrupted by the sound of Thale clearing his throat, seeking the attention of the group.

Gules turned towards the priest, Thale holding up a single, chain-laced finger as a signal to the couple that things were nearly ready. The priest then took a seat on the ground, unslinging a pack and carefully pawing through the pouches- removing several small objects wrapped in finest Felwithe silk, milky white and seeming to glimmer rainbow hues in the filtered sunlight. he then tugged lightly upon the twine binding them, revealing a small vial of clear liquid, sigil of Tunare etched into it's glass surface, a cut of spun spider silk, and a single budding leaf sporting a frail, but nourished, root. He then spread the silk out on the ground before the two, smoothing it carefully and motioning for the two to kneel before him.

With a last glance around, Gules stepped forward in step with Ally, both of them kneeling on the silk. Focusing, trying to hear Thale over the thundering of his heart in his chest, he briefly closed his eyes, took a deep, cleansing breath, and opened them again.

Motioning the couple to face one another, Thale spoke, his voice resonant and full of the authority of a senior clergyman. "Alluriel, Gulerian- join hands. Guests, please be seated."

Reaching to allow Ally's slim fingers to lace with his, the familiar shock of sensation calming him further, the Ranger took a last look at those assembled before once again focusing his attention on the priest as Thale began the ceremony.

"I am Thale Windthistle, Priest of Tunare, and today in the service of Her for the purpose of union between these two, friends to some, blood to others." At these words, Gules noticed Ally casting a quick glance at her brother, then turning her eyes back to Thale as he continued." I welcome you all, warmly and happily."

As the words drifted into his ears, Gulerian looked at the kneeling elfess at his side, regarding her with the same look of wonder as he always did. Clad in a dark green, accenting the hue of her eyes and offsetting her fiery hair, the sight of her caused a quick hitch in the Ranger's chest. His mind raced at the thought that this was real, all finally coming true...

Moving his eyes away from his bride, catching another quick image of the friends gathered, Glenorian dabbing at her eyes with a swatch of cloth, Treybor smiling at his elder sister, his reverie was broken again by the voice of Thale as he began his well- prepared words.

"The stars of the universe shine down upon us, since the days before man or elf. These innocent twinkles, the blanket of ebon and ivory that greets us with the sun's departure into

slumber, have intrigued us since the formulation of wonder. Our ships use them as navigation, a certainty of existence, a guiding beacon through midnight seas. Our philosophers see images, patterns and shapes of divine tales, and a night's pipe can be enjoyed with a telling of a grand fable, inspired by these brilliant little specks within the sky. My wife and I used them as a reminder- a single chosen star shining brightly in the south would be our link when far from one another, a light we know for certain the other is gazing upon at that time. It offered comfort and warmth in foreign lands, this insignificant wink, one of millions."

"Today, we stand upon one of these stars, one that holds a mystery and curiosity to the heartiest of native Norrathians. It is alien, beautiful, and dangerous all at once, with creatures and surroundings that we have never set eyes upon. Foes and friends lie around each bend, each strange rise and ominous pool. It is a setting for bravery, for knowledge, and for heroism. Today, in perhaps its most grand incarnation, it is a setting for love." He then placed a small swatch of ivory silk over the joined hands of the couple, smiling softly at each in turn before continuing. Gules used the pause to steal another glance at Ally, seeing her turn a

bright smile his way, glowing with a radiant joy. Reluctantly, he dragged his eyes from hers to place his attention dutifully on the priest again.

"Alluriel and Gulerian, Elves of the woodlands of Kelethin, follow paths devoted to the Mother of All, Norrath in its whole, the spirit of nature, in all its glory and in all its fury." Thale's authoritative tone kept the attention of those assembled riveted on the somber, but beautiful ceremony of spiritual joining. "Their hearts belong to Her, and Her grace is channeled through their forms, conduits of a land long known and long revered. Their souls know the nature of adventure, and in their wanderlust, they arrived on a distant light in the sky and built strength, character, and friendship there- which nurtured by kind, wanting spirits blossomed into a glorious love. The connection they share combines the love of the Mother with the bond of alliance, comradery, and honor inspired by foreign lands and adventures."

As Thale spoke, images raced through Gules' mind- the first time he saw her, young and innocent, disappearing into the throng in her home city. Faces of comrades lost, of friends found- and lastly his mind turned to Maeryn, the closest to family he had ever known, now missing and unheard from. The stinging urge of tears was blinked back furiously, Gules daring not to spoil this joyous day with dark thoughts. Ally smiled at him again, her joy contagious, lifting his spirit and driving the memory from his mind in an instant. His full attention returned to Thale again, taking in the words.

"Today we sit on the site of a love found, a longing for a deeper intimacy, a joining of eternal souls within the bounds of physical form. We look upon these two now as individual entities, formidable and beautiful in their own right, but soon, we shall see them share these unique components of one another and create a single soul from two- a shared mind and a shared heart, each knowing the other in ways mortal words could never describe."

He then turned his eyes to Gules, speaking directly to the Outrider. "Gulerian, Ranger of the wood, brave and noble, soldier and protector. You hold title in the wild places, respect of the walkers who make certain balance is upheld, and natures greatest gifts are revered, watched over by the eyes of the near eternal. Is your heart's will to become Gulerian, husband of Alluriel, provider, caretaker, lover, guardian?"

Gules was barely able to breathe for the pounding of his heart, and he looked over to his love for a quick moment, then back to the priest, answering in the most authoratative tone he could muster, "Aye, it is", before turning again to look at Ally- beaming at him, smiling brightly, her emerald eyes glittering. At the sight of her, a smile formed on the Ranger's face, the rest of the party forgotten as he sank into the green depths. The brief silence was broken again by Thale, turning to Alluriel to pose the question of her.

"Alluriel, Druidess of the forest, empathic and unfettered, custodian and healer. You hold title in the hearts and thoughts of the creatures of Tunare, respect of the beasts tamed only by the resonance of the Mother's might, and her tender compassion. Is it you heart's will to become Alluriel, wife of Gulerian, advisor, consoler, spiritual mettle, emotional sentinel?"

Catching his breath, Gules waited for her answer, knowing but fearing that it was too good to be true. He saw her nod quickly, set her eyes on Thale before sliding to meet his and answer, "Aye... aye it is.."

His heart racing even faster, making him fear it would burst from his chest, Gules had almost missed the signal to exchange rings. Two thin circles of gold, mounted with fiery rubies, blazed in the sunlight as they were slid into place on their slim elvish fingers. His darker, calloused hand, dotted with the tell tale nicks and scars of a fighter, covered her smaller and paler one, smooth and soft like comfortably worn cotton.

Thale came forward and placed his hands on their shoulders, pronouncing loudly "Under the light of the Mother's majesty, beneath the watchful eye of Her entirety, I pronounce these two souls as one. Rise and be greeted for the first instance as Gulerian and Alluriel Aspenglade!" Then, as the pair rose, he turned to Gules and said " You may kiss your wife, Gulerian".

Standing in front of the gathering, cheers and Gnomish tinkered fireworks erupting all around, Gules placed a gentle hand on Ally's cheek, followed by a gentle kiss, finalizing the bond between their souls. A wave of joy leapt into his mind, so strong it threatened to overwhelm his senses, followed by the repeated sound of her name in his head.."Alluriel Aspenglade...".

The rest of the evening was a whirlwind of activity, things happening faster than Gules could comprehend. The sharing of the feast, laughing, happy congratulations, the acceptance of gifts and wishes of good fortune. The party lasted some time, until finally, as the guests began to say their good byes, Gules stood and cleared his throat.

"Before we all part and continue our seperate paths, I'd like to extend our thanks to you all for being here." As he spoke, he reached for the hand of his bride, so the two stood close. "It means much to have friends willing to take such a journey to share in our moment of joy. Thank you for the gifts, for the well wishes...and for the friendship. Be well, all of you."

At the end of his words, he turned to his new wife, smiling and nodding quickly. At this sign, Ally called upon Tunare's winds of ether, opening a rift of space and the couple faded from view, hand in hand, to meet their destiny and their future as one.

(Missing parts in here, once again. Ally and Gules continued to serve with the Thexian-led army, both reaching a high standing in the ranks and helping the combined Elven force fend off the workings of the Necromancer. Just before this next part, they quarreled over Gules being stubborn)

A Joining of Souls - Ally

Just remember to breath... It was all the advice the trembling Druidess could offer herself at that moment, with her heart pounding beneath her breast and the nervousness clenching a tight grip on her throat. Still she smiled as the gathered crowd clustered around a secluded hilltop nestled deep within Dawnshroud's peaks. A cool breeze buffeted the hills, making the trees murmur and whisper amongst themselves as they regarded this uncommon gathering. Crimson strands lifted on this gentle wind, flaming wisps dancing over her cheeks and forehead to dangle in her vibrant pair of emerald green eyes. That verdant gaze flicked over the gathered people quickly, offering the welcome and thanks of her smile to each face she met. Cultures so typically at varying ends of the cultural spectrum found peace in this sheltered glade, looking on the trembling beauty standing next to her pillar of strength, and soon to be life's mate Gulerian. Alluriel's eyes returned to him, just as they always have and will, the flutter of her heart threatening to swell right out of her chest. Her smile was the brightest for him.

Presiding over the ceremonies was the tall and regal Thale, preparing his ceremonial gear with all pomp and circumstance of the fluid and practiced grace of his Koada'Dal heritage. Renk, the High Priest of the Matron Saeliu, regarded the couple with a small, unassuming grin crossing his darkly skinned features. Somehow he always managed to look meek and pious, but awesomely menacing in his power. The Ivy-clad figure of Glenorian stood out from the crowd, bound in the familiar armor of Gulerian's calling, sovereign ranger of Tunare. Samail, another soldier of Tunare's brood but of a different ilk, gleamed in his golden plate armor, fist clenched tightly on the hilt of his sword and his eyes scanning the horizon for any sort of impending danger that he'd all too gladly smite down in the name of The Mother. Curled in the plush carpet of grass underfoot was the sweetly smiling Breeagh, sister of her heart, beside her lifelong companion Baek. The sturdy little halfling sat cross-legged in the grass, always appreciative of a moment to indulge in laziness. Then, there was her younger brother, Treybor. He matched her in almost everything but age, including the long drape of crimson hair and the fiercely emerald eyes. Seeing him there was a bittersweet reminder of lives and loves lost and of time spent far apart. The three of the latter guests were walkers of the wind, Druids of orders always intertwined for the greater good of the land under their fleet feet, and possibly the only ones who would understand her unique outlook on life.

Gulerian's voice was in her mind, calming.. reassuring.. easing her frayed nerves into a soothed blanket of security. Looking up at him, he seemed so cool and reserved, perfectly calm under the glowing scrutiny of their guests. Nothing could faze this seasoned ranger, strong and proud of his self assuredness. When her bright green eyes met his darker ones, she knew different. His heart was pounding unseen under the links of his ivy armor, his breath came in exaggerated slow form as he forced himself into stoicism. Ally always could see past the layers, golden hair haloed in sunshine and his warm smile displayed only for her. In this, the beginning of a new life and the most important step, they exchanged their nervous glances and turned their attention when Thale cleared his throat.

Thale held up a single, chain-laced finger as a signal to the couple that things were nearly ready. The priest then took a seat on the ground, unslinging a pack and carefully pawing through the pouches- removing several small objects wrapped in finest Felwithe silk, milky white and seeming to glimmer rainbow hues in the filtered sunlight. he then tugged lightly upon the twine binding them, revealing a small vial of clear liquid, the sigil of Tunare etched into it's glass surface, a cut of spun spider silk, and a single budding leaf sporting a frail, but nourished, root. He then spread the silk out on the ground before the two, smoothing it carefully and motioning for the two to kneel before him.

Drawing a last, shaky breath she flashed another nervous glance and folded her small form into position upon the silken tapestry, chewing on her plush lower lip as Gules took his place beside her. Simply sitting at his side was more than enough, but this day wasn't over yet. Motioning the couple to face one another, Thale spoke, his voice resonant and full of the authority of a senior clergyman. "Alluriel, Gulerian- join hands. Guests, please be seated." There was a shuffle of sound as the gathered followed instruction, making themselves comfortable on the hillside overlooking a small, sapphire lake. Ally's slim fingers were laced within the strength of his hand, the weathered skin contrasting to her paler complexion going unnoticed.

"I am Thale Windthistle, Priest of Tunare, and today in the service of Her for the purpose of union between these two, friends to some, blood to others." Ally's gaze flicked back to her brother, unable to stop the recall of memory and the sting of painful discovery, but it was quickly washed clean of her thoughts as Thale's voice permeated her senses and she could think of nothing more than her role today. The past will be the past. " I welcome you all, warmly and happily."

Her smile was quick, always ready and bright in her usual demeanor but it took on a different light as she turned her eyes to the man who would be her husband in a few, very short moments. He was a wonder to her eyes, a hero in every sense of the word and it made her heart flutter anew, like a hummingbird trapped in her chest. After so very long, she still couldn't believe her dream was finally coming true.

Glenorian dabbed at her eyes with a swatch of cloth, and Treybor smiled at his elder sister, thinking who knows what about the proceedings. His controversial livelihood had no place here, but such thoughts would not be tolerated on this day of bliss. All that will be remember will be laughter, joy and love to the tune of Thale's voice and well prepared ceremony.

"The stars of the universe shine down upon us, since the days before man or elf. These innocent twinkles, the blanket of ebon and ivory that greets us with the sun's departure into slumber, have intrigued us since the formulation of wonder. Our ships use them as navigation, a certainty of existence, a guiding beacon through midnight seas. Our philosophers see images, patterns and shapes of divine tales, and a night's pipe can be enjoyed with a telling of a grand fable, inspired by these brilliant little specks within the sky. My wife and I used them as a reminder- a single chosen star shining brightly in the south would be our link when far from one another, a light we know for certain the other is gazing upon at that time. It offered comfort and warmth in foreign lands, this insignificant wink, one of millions.

"Today, we stand upon one of these stars, one that holds a mystery and curiosity to the heartiest of native Norrathians. It is alien, beautiful, and dangerous all at once, with creatures and surroundings that we have never set eyes upon. Foes and friends lie around each bend, each strange rise and ominous pool. It is a setting for bravery, for knowledge, and for heroism. Today, in perhaps its most grand incarnation, it is a setting for love." He then placed a small swatch of ivory silk over the joined hands of the couple, smiling softly at each in turn before continuing. They used the pause to steal another glance at each other, Ally turning a bright smile his way and glowing with a radiant joy. Reluctantly, he dragged his eyes from hers to place his attention dutifully on the priest again.

"Alluriel and Gulerian, Elves of the woodlands of Kelethin, follow paths devoted to the Mother of All, Norrath in its whole, the spirit of nature, in all its glory and in all its fury." Thale's authoritative tone kept the attention of those assembled riveted on the somber, but beautiful ceremony of spiritual joining. "Their hearts belong to Her, and Her grace is channeled through their forms, conduits of a land long known and long revered. Their souls know the nature of adventure, and in their wanderlust, they arrived on a distant light in the sky and built strength, character, and friendship there- which nurtured by kind, wanting spirits blossomed into a glorious love. The connection they share combines the love of the Mother with the bond of alliance, comradery, and honor inspired by foreign lands and adventures."

The sting of fresh tears were blinked away before they could be shed, making her eyes glisten with their moisture. There was an empty place in the crowd, quite a few of them actually for those who couldn't make it. Those among the most missed was her friend and mentor, Thilos. The fires of memory burned anew, battles waged and won in the name of Tunare as she discovered her empathy extended to the flora and fauna of Tunare's creatures. Thilos was a strong, but quiet member of the Kelethin council, and approached her parents at a meeting with the request for sequestered training as a Druid. In the public eye, they dared not defy such a respected member of the community. Shortly after, the girl child skipped through the suspended bridges and ramps of Kelethin, slipping through a line of would be Rangers awaiting their trials and was oblivious to the effects of her touch as she disappeared into the throng, bent on travel preparations.

"Today we sit on the site of a love found, a longing for a deeper intimacy, a joining of eternal souls within the bounds of physical form. We look upon these two now as individual entities, formidable and beautiful in their own right, but soon, we shall see them share these unique components of one another and create a single soul from two- a shared mind and a shared heart, each knowing the other in ways mortal words could never describe."

Thale turned his steely grey eyes to Gules, speaking directly to the Outrider. "Gulerian, Ranger of the wood, brave and noble, soldier and protector. You hold title in the wild places, respect of the walkers who make certain balance is upheld, and natures greatest gifts are revered, watched over by the eyes of the near eternal. Is your heart's will to become Gulerian, husband of Alluriel, provider, caretaker, lover, guardian?"

She held her breath for the split second before his answer came, both exhilarated and terrified at the same frightening moment. Riding a dragon couldn't have been more scarily exciting. "Aye, it is." Hearing his authoritative tone form the words, the pent breath was released with the spreading of her wide smile, tears threatening a second time as she met his dark eyes and was swallowed whole. There was a brief silence, savoring the sweetest moment under Thale's gentle smile before he turned to Alluriel to pose the question of her. Ally had to force her eyes away from her love's.

"Alluriel, Druidess of the forest, empathic and unfettered, custodian and healer. You hold title in the hearts and thoughts of the creatures of Tunare, respect of the beasts tamed only by the resonance of the Mother's might, and her tender compassion. Is it you heart's will to become Alluriel, wife of Gulerian, advisor, consoler, spiritual mettle, emotional sentinel?"

There was no question, no doubt in her mind that it was her heart's will to be everything Thale stated and more. There was only one answer to his question, though she feared she would fall short despite her best efforts. When she spoke, her voice was gently firm, she'd never wanted anything more. "Aye... aye it is.."

Twin circles of gold, mounted with fiery rubies, blazed in the sunlight as they were slid into place on their slim elvish fingers. His darker, calloused hand, dotted with the tell tale nicks and scars of a fighter, covered her smaller and paler one, smooth and soft like comfortably worn cotton. Just breathe... she had to remind herself again when she looked at their hands intertwined and matched with their new adornments. So this was bliss.

Thale came forward and placed his hands on their shoulders, pronouncing loudly "Under the light of the Mother's majesty, beneath the watchful eye of Her entirety, I pronounce these two souls as one. Rise and be greeted for the first instance as Gulerian and Alluriel Aspenglade!" As the pair rose from the silken tapestry, he turned to Gules and said, "You may kiss your wife, Gulerian."

Cheers and Gnomish tinkered fireworks erupting around them both in a maelstrom of color and sound that threatened to overwhelm them. Gules placed a gentle hand on Ally's cheek, followed soon by a gentle brush of their lips sealed the bond of their souls in the eyes of Norrath. With that kiss, her mind joined with his, repeating for him her new name: "Alluriel Aspenglade..."

The whirlwind that ensued afterwards was a blur of commotion, hugs, words of congratulations and treasures both big and small passing hands to the newlyweds over a feast baked by Ally's tireless love for creation. The meal consisted of Jumjum salad, which was greatly received by the Halfling, lion steak fillets in a creamy fennel sauce, rabbit stew, her signature pies, and finished off chocolate Obah truffles. A few of the wonderful gifts were among a formidable staff given by her dear brother Trey. It would take quite some time to learn, but it was a wonderfully worthy gift for an aspiring heirophant. She sported a new set of boots, mithril studded leather only for the followers of The Mother. Gules was gifted with many arrows, a tailored quiver for him to store them, other trinkets, as well as a new, impressive scimitar that fit well in his practiced hands thanks to the High Priest. The reception stilled when Gules stood and cleared his throat, subtly drawing their attention. The guests grew silent as they finished their meals and congratulations, fixing their attention on Ally's Hero as he spoke.

"Before we all part and continue our separate paths, I'd like to extend our thanks to you all for being here." As he spoke, he reached for the hand of his bride, which she took eagerly, slim fingers squeezing his in her excitement. "It means much to have friends willing to take such a journey to share in our moment of joy. Thank you for the gifts, for the well wishes...and for the friendship. Be well, all of you."

At the end of his words, he turned towards her, his smile and quick nod signalling that it was time to depart. "I cannot thank you all enough for being here today. May Tunare be your guide." After her soft farewell, her ginger lashes fluttered closed and the familiar warmth of Tunare's power swelled inside of her, words of ancient lore flitting past her lips in a method so practiced it became unbidden. A rift was opened in time and space, the winds of ether swirling around them both to swallow them whole and they embarked on their new destiny forged in two souls.

A Fine Line Between Order and Chaos

The path ahead wove through the oddly colored trees and over the steep hills of the Grimling Forest, the permanent gloom of the place making the landscape appear even more alien than it was.The Ranger moved silently, only the barest glimmer of bright mail every now and then announcing his presence- and that was just as he wanted it. He wasn't here to fight, or to vent frustration, but to walk and think..to still the maelstrom that was inside him, to find a way to remove the darkness he felt over his heart.

The one thing he counted on, the single constant in his life, the admiration and unquestioning trust of his wife, had been what held him together, the driving force that made the struggles and battles worthwhile..and now it was no longer a certainty. The words echoed in his head, over and again, nothing able to drive them out...so he meandered through the twilit forest, his thoughts constantly returning to her- peacefully sleeping where'd he left her, unaware of the storm of emotion she'd started in him.

Thinking, walking distractedly down the well- travelled path, his mind a million miles away, he never saw the threat, had no suspicion until the weight of the owlbear was upon him. Rolling, bringing blades to bear on the creature, he struck out in an attempt to end the fight quickly...and that was when it hit him, like a splash of icy water on his heart. A sudden shock of pain, slicing deep into his soul- a pain which had no

external cause, coming from inside, from her..from his wife. But that wasn't the end, and not the worst...as quickly as the pain hit, it subsided, and was replaced with emptiness, the sudden snapping of the spiritual tether that had tied them to one another for so long.

Stunned into inaction,the owlbear saw an opportunity, landing a vicious blow to the Ranger's upper arm, knocking him aside...which seemed to wake him, building rage resulting in a flurry of steel, and ending with the lifeless body of the creature blocking the path.

With the beast dispatched, Gules set his mind to reaching her, searching for a glimmer of contact, seeking her life force. He was rewarded only with fleeting glimpses and feelings- the sound of hooves on soft earth, a feeling of being held, suspended, helpless, and over it all, the pain. It was the pain that roused him to action, exploding into a dead run through the trees in the direction he left her, anger quickly being overcome by panic, his mind searching for the way back to her, back to the quiet grove where they had parted...

There...the answer came in the form he saw in the clearing ahead, a half-Elven Druid standing with his back to Gules' approach. Silently, seeing no other option, the Ranger crept up behind his target and placed the edge of a blade against the Druid's throat, whispering into his ear- "To the Twilight Sea, and right now, if you wish to draw another breath."

The half Elven druid stammered at first, startled at the blade at his throat and the unseen assailant behind him. Gulping past the blade, his unsteady fingers began to weave the spell, lips chiming the proper incantation as space swelled around them. Swirling motes of magic engulfed them as the sound of imploding air sucked them both out of the Hollowshade Moor and touched them down into the colorful landscape of the Twilight Sea. Whispering an apology, the need to avoid any delay foremost in his mind, Gules brought the hilt end of his sword down hard at the back of the Druid's head, dropping him unconcious to the ground.

Taking a deep, cleansing breath, the Ranger looked slowly around him, trying to shake the disorientation of being transported in such a manner. The Sea was as usual, the peaceful serenity of the breeze sighing through boughs over sun dappled meadows. The sun glittered off of the turquois body of water surrounding the clutch of islands, oblivious to the scene of tragedy. A sapling near his feet had been cut down with the quick swipe of a blade, footprints in the soft soil leading to the copse of trees where he'd left his sleeping wife. Following the footprints, he searched the ground carefully, kneeling briefly to inspect some of the tracks- years of training in identifying the tracks of man and beast coming into play. The tracks were of Elven origin, the tailoring of imbued armor leaving tiny imprints in the ground for the trained eye of the Ranger. The prints were deep in the soil, the wearer of the boots made heavy by armor and weaponry. The traffic on the ground near the unconscious half elf made any others indescernable, but there were a set of hoofprints that seemed to sink into the soil as the horse waited, pawing boredly at the ground. The sense of urgency coming back, he entered the small grove of trees, hoping to see her still sleeping, his fear the result of a tormented dream.

A rough caw sounded from the limbs of the tree that she'd been sleeping in. A strangely made bird, as black as pitch and with a thick body, was sitting on the limb like an owl. Two wide, golden eyes blinked curiously down at the Ranger, the set forward, binocular vision trained on him as the bird observed his actions. The beak of the creature was long and jagged, unlike the smooth hooked beak of normal owls, and it had a raven's voice, breaking the serenity of the copse with its rasp. The dark blotch of feathers stood out against the colorful backdrop easily. It's blackened talons flexed on the bark, shifting closer to the trunk of it's perch where an arrow pierced the thick skin of the tree- pinning a note written in a brownish ink that matched the spray of blood across the trunk. This, in combination with the blades of grass beneath, broken and crumpled by some struggle, caused him to give voice to his fear..."She's gone."

A Fine Line Between Order and Chaos: Abduction

"Tunare ... what have I done?"

Her dreams were polluted, swirling with dark colours like blood dripping into a clear and pristine pool of water. She saw thorns, bursting from the earth under bare feet like furious caltrops and cracking the protective bowl of the sacred water. The cool liquid turned a fiery red, pulsed with its own heathen life with a great swell of power and for all she could do, her screams had no voice, her limbs no will. Frustration tore at her heart, tears stormed down her cheeks and she'd watched like a broken doll until her eyes were bled dry of misery and stared sightlessly into the void. By all the gods, she could do nothing to stop it... and it was all her fault.

The images swirled in her mind, confusion threading through her thoughts as rationale tried to step in and take the reigns. What had she done? What was this punishment she was doomed to, watching the destruction of something pure and perfect... something she'd devoted her life and love to protect ... wrought pain and anguish by her own delicate hands. There was something nagging at her conscience, clawing it's way to the surface with jagged nails. Her chest was tight, tears burned underneath her closed eyes and she shifted on the soft pelt of grass where her husband had left her.

Oh gods... Gules!

The dawning of realization flicked her ginger lashes open, evaporating any guise of sleep she'd been under. Her slender arm had made a pillow for her head, and the vibrant blades of grass swam up before her eyes, a tiny jungle of life vying for every morself, every breath. Plush lips parted, sucking in a soft gasp as emerald eyes focused on an ant had scaled a skyscraper blade of grass, intent on the tender delight of an aphid meandering on its tip. Pointed ears caught the rustle of the leaves overhead, sheltering grove causing motes of sunlight to dance over her reclining form. It also caught something else, something that was beyond normal. The young druidess sensed it before she heard it, a missplaced footstep crunching the grass.

It could have been anything, they weren't far from the druid's port into the Twilight sea. Anyone could have happened upon her sleeping in the grass, but instinct told her it was something different. Her ears twitched, trying to find the source without giving away that she was awake, but there was nothing to hear. Closing her eyes, she breathed a soft sigh of relief, allowing her body to relax again and chastizing her imagination for causing such a fright. However, when she opened her eyes again, the motes of sunlight were blocked out by a slender shadow, made bulky by a full set of armor.

Ally never had the chance to scream...

Pain ... It throbbed to life, pulsing underneath the nape of her skull and to every nerve ending to flash brutally the truth that she was still alive. The scenery flew by, too fast for her to catch any sort of landmark or discern her whereabouts. The rhythmic pounding of hooves churned the earth underneath and rocked her against the cold metal of the armored kidnapper. One arm was securely locked around her ribcage and held her so bruisingly close it was almost impossible to breathe. Focus blurred and her body rebelled, her head spinning despite the sparks of coherant thought that pushed into her mind. She knew well that Gules was trying to reach her, and her with her mind swimming with pain, she could not respond. Blackness boiled up before her eyes and she was lost to the world once again.

Moments later, she woke with a pained cry, Gules's mind prying hers open like a crowbar to a crate and shattering the peace of absolute darkness to plunge her back into the agony of her capture. A leathered hand clamped over her open mouth, slamming her already aching skull against the armored plating of her captor's shoulder. She didn't dare open her eyes, feeling the sun's heat on her face, it would only incur more agony. Earthsoaked leather underneath her nose gave away the identity, however. Kindred! His rough cheek was pressed to hers, corded muscles tightening around her as cracked lips grazed her sensative ear and sent waves of revulsion through her. His words were spoken in her native tongue, cementing her suspicions that she'd been stolen by one of her own kind.

"Make no sound, struggle not.. or you will be certain to regret it, as will your unborn.. " His breath tickled her ear as he spoke, the point of a blade digging into the leathers barely covering the still flat area of her of her belly to punctuate his deadly promise. A warm trickle bled into the leather and skirted the length of the blade, a tear daring to slip down her cheek to splatter into a dark circle on the assailant's glove, but Ally made no further sound. Pain struck up it's cacaphony and she was once again blessed by a world of nothingness, where the pain could not reach her.

Alluriel woke again in the cool of the Faydark. She could feel the presence of the ancient trees, knew the smells and the pulse of Tunare all around them. The pain had ebbed somewhat, and it took every ounce of her will not to spill the contents of her belly as the Faydark spun around her eyes. Blinking back the disorientation, she focused on the trees around her, searching for recognition in a glade that she'd never known. Confused, her brow furrowed and she was rewarded by a sharp twinge telling her not to do that again. The elf behind her dismounted, dragging her from the saddle easily with his one armed hold that nearly crushed her delicate ribcage. Her feet swung off the ground as she was held, the elf silent and waiting, before figures materialized from the gloom.

One figure she recognized from Kelethin, as the vocally liberal Vallon Woodshadow, who often spoke out against the evils of the city plaguing Tunare and destroying Her land. Ally had often listened to his earlier talks, and tried to make sense of it with her father, finding her own emotions conflicted and leaning towards his radical action. Her father's reaction was indulgent humor then sent her to her room with the admonition that she had no idea of what she spoke about. Tunare's connection to the Faydark was failing, yes... but there had to have been less extreme means to an end. Vallon had no such compunctions for conservative behaviour, no governing will that kept him from stepping over the thin red line of ethics.

He was flanked by guards, stern and rugged, as they blended from the forests as if grown from Tunare's land than from elven parents. Vallon said nothing, dark eyes coldly aloof as he reguarded her with absolute disdain, the product of everything he despised in the world. The fanatical gleam in those eyes made Ally shiver. At his side, appearing from a distortion of space, wavering like a mirage on the hot sands of Ro, came the rigid form of Vallon's prized Seer. Elvish mothers told frightening tales of this witch to keep their children obediant and Ally's was no exception. Her heart pounded in her chest at a sharp staccatto, fear raging through her at a stampede's pace as this abomination became corporeal and moved closer to where she was being held.

Long, flyaway strands of steel-grey hair swirled about her leathery face that was drawn and puckered. Standing stock straight, she seemed to glide rather than walk, bare feet making no sound over the forest floor. Somehow she seemed longer than any thing Ally had ever seen, longer of limbs, spindly fingers ... long features and exaggerated pointed ears, as if the powers that be stretched her to accomodate her unique gifts. Blind eyes stared unerringly at her with milky white orbs, and a hand lifted to place spidery fingertips over her racing pulse.

Stoicly calm and properly defiant, Ally's resolve was shattered by the spider tickle tracing her flesh and she struggled against the hold in a panic. Her eyes were wide, tear filled and fear had snatched the voice from her throat, leaving her to cry silently to a goddess she wasn't sure could hear her. Undaunted by her reaction, the Seer moved her slim hand expressionlessly over the curve of her breast and over the steel plating of an armored limb holding her secure. Finally, she landed on the patch of leather crusted with blood from a single, threatening puncture. The Seer clucked her tongue, hissing breath coming through her teeth as her hand flattened over the spot.

The feeling was impossible to describe as anything but invasive, and Ally futilely twisted and writhed in the iron grip to get away from her. Choking on a sob, she wrenched herself in his arms, determined to get away or die trying from the horror in front of her. Said horror lifted her milky white eyes, lips curling back from stained teeth in a snarl and her other hand was slapped against her forehead. If she thought she knew pain before, the agony she felt was of no comparison. Finding her voice again, the trees rang with her screams until the darkness came again and she thanked Tunare for the peace of unconsciousness.

A Fine Line Between Order and Chaos: Discovery

Standing in the glade, the reality of what had happened slowly settled into his disordered mind. Everything was still, the moment of his failure frozen in time, as if to imprint itself irrevocably on his psyche- the colors vibrant, even the faint brown splashes on the tree trunk screaming out to him in a violent red. He walked to the tree, plucking the arrow free to take and read the note, absently walking in the direction the departing tracks led. The paper the note was written on seemed familiar, and a glance at the back revealed the reason- it was his note to her, announcing the reason for his absence from her side. His own scrawled words now leapt out at him, the folly of his departure burning in his mind as he turned to the reverse side of the parchment, reading the words left by the unknown assailant- the one who very likely had the life of his soulmate in his hands. The Elvish script was clear, retaining the flowing beauty characteristic of the written language of his people, the color making it clear what was used to scribe the message- the lifeblood of his love, used as if to mock him in his failure to uphold his promise to protect. Forcing the rising rage from his mind, he carefully scanned the note, hoping for some clue as to the kidnapper's identity:

'Forgive me for getting your attention this way, but you'd never come without motivation. Your wife is as precious as they come, I remember her as a child. Pity that I did not know you as well... I wish a meeting with you, son. At your earliest convenience. I'm certain a trained ranger such as yourself will be able to find me easily.'

Still following the tracks, almost without being aware of it, the Ranger read the note over..twice, three times, letting the meaning and implications sink in. The tracks that left the copse led down to the water's edge, where the hoofprints of a horse met those of the abductor- and then both were gone, leaving only the waves kissing the shoreline. He stood for a moment, gazing out over the water, willing an idea to form, a way to discover where she'd been taken...and then the strange bird cackled again, the sound grating Gules' raw nerves like rough steel. Turning quickly, the Ranger reached out, catlike, and captured the bird, gripping it's throat firmly and bringing it near for closer study. A glance revealed the fact that it was plainly no ordinary bird- the golden eyes set forward rather than to the sides, glimmering with the spark of intelligence. Taken aback by the strange apparition in his grip, Gules stared into the bulging eyes of his captive and said, quietly, "I do not believe your presence here is mere happenstance- and therefore you must have a tie to this act in some way. Am I correct?"

A spark of recognition lit the bird's eyes and the beak parted- but no sound escaped, the pressure on it's windpipe to great to allow speech. Relieving the pressure slightly but maintaining control of the creature, Gules asked again: "Can you lead me to whoever did this, or aid me in any way, or should I simply squeeze the life from your miserable body?"

The bird caughed and gasped for breath, its wings stilling as it hung limply there in its hand as the golden eyes flicked up at him. The jagged beak parted, tongue lolling out a bit as it's whispered word came forth: "Water.."

"You need water?" Pulling a flask from his pack, the Ranger turned it up to allow a trickle of water to splash over the beak: "Now- if you can help me, do it...and if not, make it clear so I may get on with the hunt for this....Elf." He spat the word like an epitaph, distaste clear in the tone. "And waste no time or I'll crush you like the egg you were birthed from."

"No egg I hatch from... I made, like you. Same hands, and same magic..." came the broken reply, made raspy by the grip at the birds throat. The water cooled the burning, and the creature flicked his head and sent the remaining droplets of water flying.

"Made?" That simple word sent a thousand questions ricocheting through Gules' mind, but he forced them back, choosing to concentrate on the urgency of the situation at hand. "Never mind that gibberish..where did he take her? That's the only answer I want from you...and I'll set you free if you lead me right."

"I know not where ...but I know who does. The master knows... knows much. More of you than you." The bird gave a broken caw, wriggling in the uncomfortable hold keeping him still.

Gules considered the bird for a moment, studying the eyes for any sign of duplicity before nodding firmly. "Then take me to him...and now. I don't have time for stupid games and half statements, even from a brainless thing like you." Seemingly offended by this reference, the bird flapped its wings against his hold, trying to pull away. "Take you to the Master, yes.. all will be revealed, but must let go!"

"Let go?....yes, in a moment...." Reaching inside his pack, Gules pulled out a long, thin piece of rawhide- affixing one end around the leg of the bird and grasping the other end in his hand, pinned between palm and sword hilt. "There...you can fly but not get away from me. Lead on."

"Leashed! Like dog, I'm not!" The bird huffed again, midnight feathers ruffled as it cawed indignantly, but did not attempt to remove the leash. It's wings spread wide, easily matching the wingspan of a Great Horned Owl, and it flew uneasily at the end of the tether, hovering as it gained its bearings. "Back to Norrath.. must return!"

"Norrath?", the word and idea unsettled the Ranger, his thoughts centered on the time that was slipping past- and the amount of time it would take to get back to that planet without his wife to transport him. He addressed the bird again, hoping for some answer that would relieve his worry that they would arrive too late. "Do you have a faster way than is the norm, or need I arrange transportation for us?"

"I have wings. You have feet." Stated as a simple fact, the statement nonetheless came across as if the bird were a teacher speaking to a slow student.

"Then we must seek someone who can get us there quickly...if you see a Druid or someone who can do this, tell me....and precisely where on Norrath must we go?"

"Maeryn would know." Gules started a bit at the mention of his mentor's name, looking at the bird thoughtfully. Golden eyes flicked back towards the unconscious druid laying in the grass. "See druid there ... broken. Silly waste. To the Faydark.. to your first home, Ranger." The realization that this bird may be far more than it appeared struck the Ranger as he glanced over at the Druid, lying still on the ground. Rushing over , Gules propped him up and splashed water in his face in an attempt to wake him. The Half Elf sputtered, blinking against the light of the sun and holding his hand to his aching skull. Looking around, he settled his dark eyes on the Ranger and caught his breath.

"By Karana! Did you see him? Someone accosted me, forced me to bring him here... then struck me down. Where is the knave?" At these words, the bird behind Gules emitted a brief, raucous cackle, finding humour in the situation- another sign that there was more to be reckoned with than appearances would imply. Hushing the bird with a glance, Gules turned back to the Druid, who was still shaking his head and regaining his bearings.

"That knave is standing in front of you..and I do apologize for my action, but I'm in a bind and did not wish to be distracted...and there's no permanent harm, is there? I have need for transport to the Faydark now- I won't force it at swordpoint this time, but instead appeal to you as one in need...my wife has been kidnapped and is in grave danger. Do not do the favor for me, do it for another of your calling, or walk away and ensure her death. The choice is yours."

The Half Elf's dark eyes flickered to the laughing bird, distracted for a moment by the sheer unnatural feel of the creature, before returning to the desperate Ranger. For a heartbeat, he seemed to debate the plea- but it was the pained eyes that convinced him. The druid nodded: "I know what I would do had my wife been taken... of course I will give you transport. To the home of the Dwarves or the Gnomes?"

"The Steamfont Mountains, please. And quickly, if you would..once there, you may go, and I'll not trouble you again." With the issue of transport decided, Gules gave a slight tug on the tether, startling the black bird and causing him to come close. The druid took to his feet and rubbed the knot on his head briefly before the swelling ebbed and he sighed as the pain subsided.

"Gather close... I will wait in the Steamfont mountains for your word that your wife is safe or if you're needing transport away from hostile land."

Gules looked at the Druid, something akin to gratitude appearing in his dark eyes before responding. "No need for that..none will be alive to pursue us, but I cannot force your departure."

"Just the same.. I would like to know if the both of you are all right." The Druid paused for a moment."To rest my conscience." The weaving of his fingers brought forth the motes of magic and the implosion of air sucked them through space to deposit them in the Gnomes' homeland.

Steam geysers made the air perpetually sultry, thick with humidity, Gnomish children running amok over the holes... one decidedly familiar. Gules glanced at the boy, but only for a moment, the name lost in the mists of his preoccupation. Nodding a quick thanks to the Druid, he turned his attention back to the bird: "Go...quickly. Time is almost as short as my patience at the moment....lead on."

The strange owl-like raven twisted its head around backwards, looking around before lifting off in the direction of the Faydark, crossing through the steam geysers and past rogue clockworks quickly until they reached the Faydark- where the bird balked. "Danger here", he said, looking to Gules with a look of trepidation in his mysterious eyes.

"Danger? Don't be absurd...what sort and why?" He looked impatiently at the creature, eyes urging him to hurry.

"Demon horse and brownies... must move unseen." The bird lit on the Ranger's shoulder, ruffling ebony feathers with it's jagged beak and giving itself a shake. "The Master is under the tower... show you your wife, he can.. and the way to get through Vallon's defenses."

" I have the way through his defenses....right here" The Ranger indicated the bow slung at his back. "But, if you insist, we'll go talk to this so-called "Master"- but fair warning, he'd best waste no time....and I agree with the unseen idea." With a few words the Ranger disappeared into the shadows, still clutching the piece of rawhide. " Now, lead on before I decide to make you a meal."

The bird yelped at the promise of being a meal and took off ahead of him. On owl's wings the bird flew as silently as the clouds overhead, moving into the eternal dusk of the canopied Faydark. Weaving through the trees, the sound of hoofbeats raced by, but took no notice of them and the tiny people of the land saw nothing creeping through the grass towards the abandoned tower. Pixies fluttered nearby, in the very place where Ally would lurk and hunt for their dust for her cooking. His eyes intently watching for danger, Gules reached out for her with his mind- finding nothing but the emptiness he'd experienced since that moment on Luclin. Following the silent bird, he whispered almost inaudibly "Under the tower....hm. Let's get there and quick." A tug on the leash provided the emphasis absent in the quiet words, causing the bird to turn it's head around and glare at him balefully. Hovering over the base stones of the tower, the bird flicked its head about then rapped its beak on the stones in a certain order that made them fold back, stone grating on stone, revealing a dark tunnel with no visible bottom or way down.

Gules leaned to look down the tunnel, sharp Elven eyes adjusting to the dark immediately. Seeing nothing but darkness, he turned back to the owl and asked " So..we just jump in or what? Perhaps we need to fly?"

"I fly... " The bird seemed to shrug it's dark wings, ruffling a bit, hovering on the end of it's tether.

"Then I do, too...if necessary" Ensuring he had a supply of the proper component, Gules whispered a few words and rose from the ground, hovering like the bird. "Now...inside, and stop moving so slowly."

"Cannot move any quicker tied down!" The bird huffed and dove down the hole, fluttering down to the black pit while the Ranger followed, leading him down to where the tunnel ended in an acid pool to thwart any unwanted visitor. Looking around at the surroundings, unhappy to be underground and away from the freedom above ground, Gules muttered "Nice hospitality...now, where is this fool we've come to see? I'm getting more impatient with every moment we waste...and if it will help, here.." He reached and untied the bird, freeing him from the tether. The bird's black claw flexed and its wings beat the air quickly, pace increasing as it wove through a maze of tunnels, looking back it's shoulder to be certain the Ranger could keep up. At the center of the maze was a large antechamber. A mercury pool sat in the center, smoking at the edges as if filled with molten silver. Relics of the arcane littered the walls in a chaotic fray, but the room seemed to be empty otherwise.

Giving the bird another look of impatience, the Ranger took in the chaos around him, looking from the shimmering pool to the jumble of unidentified objects lining the walls. "All right- we're here in the center of a madhouse, apparently, and I'm no closer to my goal. I know where to go, and believe I'll depart for Kelethin now. This is pointless."

"Zemiel... come." The bird perked at hearing the aged voice, swirling twice over the mercury pool and landing on what looked to be one of the other relics. However, it was an aged crone of an Elf, silvery hair now withered to a limp and greasy grey as he shuffled forward, the bird perched on his hunched back. "Good that you have returned to me, little one. Your mother I knew well... but you're not here for that... you're here for the little one who looks like her."

Gules took in the sight before him, thinking that the Elf had to be the oldest he had ever seen- but otherwise, there was no spark of recognition. "Two things- first, I'd appreciate you telling me who you are, and second, I have not returned anywhere or to anyone. I've never seen you in my life, and in a few moments, I never will again. Tell me where my wife is held and I'll be gone."

"You may not have seen me, Gulerian... but your mother, fleeing from your father's remorseless rage, made a home here with the Rangers... and loved one most dearly. However, she carried you and fell to me when she was in need. I knew you before she birthed... and made you a finer Elf with the blood of all three." The crone gave a cackle and shuffled his aged bones with an aching creak of skin until he came to a groaning rest at the edge of the pool. "But it is your wife you seek and she is not in Kelethin... no, Vallon would not be so foolish to bring Kelethin's littlest princess back to her folds while he pains her so."

The Ranger looked up at the ceiling, then back at the ancient one, the frustration clear on his face."Would you PLEASE stop with this senseless prattling and tell me where she is so I can get on with this? I care nothing for princesses, and even less for my mother. Now answer me or not, but I am leaving this asylum either way. She may be out there dying...do you understand that? Place yourself in my boots for a moment, and make haste rather than detaining me with stories."

The old mage looked back at Gules, meeting his fiery eyes with his own bleary and slightly pained ones. "Patience, Gulerian, patience... Vallon dare not kill her. What pain she endures can be healed... I will show you where she is, else you'll never find her." The caster started a mumbling chant, pale amber eyes rolling backwards in his head. The raven-owl fluttered off to its roost in the corner as the molten pool began to swirl, flowing into an image that was foggy at first as it centered on a pair of slender wrists crossed against the bark of an ancient tree. The wrists were pinned there by an arrow piercing through the tanned skin and into the wood in a way that was too painful to struggle. As the image pulled away, Gules saw that she was held fast to this fallen tree, bound tightly enough for the ropes to bite into her tender skin with long bloody lines. Her lips were chapped, parted and parched. As a guard dabbed a cool rag on her cheek and squeezed the water onto her lips, her eyes fluttered a bit...

Breaking into the Ranger's thoughts, the caster looked up and asked "Is that her?"

Choking back a sob, devastated at seeing her in such a state, Gules blinked back a sudden onslaught of tears before nodding and answering softly.

"Aye, that's her...that's my Ally."

A Fine Line Between Order and Chaos: Lies

No dreams pervaded the protective veil of unconsciousness that kept Ally under its thrall, well beyond the fierce claws of pain that raked her mercilessly. Vaguely, she was aware of a piercing in the tender flesh of her wrists...and thinks she struggled, but couldn't be quite sure. The blur of existence served only to keep her breathing for the hope that she could see Gules just one last time. Then she'd be happy to give up to oblivion, well beyond the mortal coil where pain could never reach her again. Surely there was only so much one could endure before the breath of Tunare fled her lips and she could at last find peace, right?

Just once more, that's all she asked. "Once more? No ... no, there will be no more." Came the soft rasp of voice, like the crinkling of aged parchment or the crackling of a dying fire. There would be no escape from this voice as it echoed through every corner of her mind, shrivelling her resolve as she tried to close herself to the invasion. This was not the first time.

"No, please... leave me alone." Tortured whispers seemed to bounce throughout her mind and was overshadowed by horrible, malicious laughter, rasping from some unseen throat that seemed to be behind her, to her left or right ... it was everywhere. It struck through her mind with torturous glee until her inner self pressed useless hands to her ears futilely, as if that would stop the sound from permeating her brain. The demonic pleasure that edged through Ally's consciousness cut her like a blade, slowly piercing the tender membranes to reach her weakest point.

"There will be no more, little druid ... silly child of Kelethin ... your beloved ranger is dead. I saw to that myself." An image swirled up to replace the comforting darkness with the bright beauty of the Twilight sea. The spectrum of colors swam up before her inner eye, framing a place she knew and loved so well. There, she saw a flash of bright mail as Gules splashed up the embankment to climb and the top of the hill. His mouth formed her name, crying out in agony as he searched the empty islands for her. Tears streamed in hot torrents over her cinnamon speckled cheeks, but she couldn't shut herself away from images from playing over her inner eye. Ally opened her mouth to cry out to him, or to call up one of Tunare's gifts, but the moment the magic swelled in her blood the pain began anew and pierced her already tortured mind. The world began to swirl, bright crimson threads poisoning the waters and spreading into a pool of ichor to nourish the land she loved so much.

He staggered, dark eyes swinging down towards the arrow that had somehow pierced the enchanted knit of steel rings spread over his wide span of chest, seemingly surprised that such a thing could happen. Still, he pressed on, crying her name from bloodied lips as another struck him in the meat of his shoulder, spinning him on his already unsteady feet. Gules found support in one of the trees, dragging a long, bloodied hand print in the bark as he tried to fill his lungs with air rather than the blood that took up the precious space. Pushing off the tree, he clawed through the space of air and stumbled to the next with his face set in grim determination. Nothing would stop him from finding her ... he refused to believe he could be stopped ... However the unseen assailant struck again and the arrows head burrowing deeply into his muscled thigh and finally her husband toppled to the ground to feed the earth with his life, lips working soundlessly as he defied the world. Her name was the last breath that rattled from his broken body and the light she'd depended on faded from his eyes.

"So you see, little druid ... there will be no ' once more', not ever again." Her chest burned as she reached for him, searching for the spiritual tether that kept them bound tightly together. It had to be a lie, a horrible and cruel lie. The ties that bind unravelled with confusion, desperation clouding her senses as once more the terrible cackling came again. That precious connection severed, it withered, atrophied in her spectral hands as she clenched them futilely only to watch as the cord crumbled. A fetid wind blew, rushing against her like the Seer's hot breath her as spirit sank, dejected as she murmured a soft mantra, trying to cleanse her mind of the images. Unfortunately, the sight of her husband's death was burned on the undersides of her eyelids, and would be there every moment she dared try to push it away.

"Lies.." The word became a chant between broken sobs as she refused to believe her hero could be felled by anything short of an unholy miracle. Somewhere, fresh blood poured down her arms in crimson rivulets, pooling in the crevices formed by flesh and wood. Awareness slowly ebbed into her consciousness as she twisted against her binds and felt the pain startle her back into reality. Opening her eyes to slits, sunlight danced over her ginger lashes to explode into tiny bulbs balancing on their pointed edges. Glistening through her tears, the blinding brilliance was blinked away and she was met with the sight of treetops. Tall, angular pines stretched their evergreen fingers towards a pale blue sky, streaked with feathery wisps of clouds meandering along the lazy cerulean path. Cracked lips parted, stinging as she stretched them over a single word until she could taste the coppery flavor of her own blood. "Lies .."

The word seemed to stir someone nearby and footsteps moved closer, heavily thudding over the hard packed soil of the forest floor. Grass crunched as the footsteps neared and a shadow spilled over her reclining form and took a moment to tug at the coils of burlap rope biting painfully into her tender skin. After making sure she hadn't loosened the binds, the guard leaned over and very gently, tested the integrity of the arrow burrowed in the wood through her slender wrists. Even the slight vibration in the shaft of the arrow made her tense, hissing through her clenched teeth and squeezing her eyes shut. "Forgive me for that.." The apology in his voice was genuine, and Ally nodded slightly to acknowledge his sincerity. "What is it you said earlier? I heard you say something."

Her empty stomach rebelled and she had to swallow back the wave of nausea before she tried to answer, eyes flickering open to focus on the face hovering over hers. The elf's face was well worn, weathered features severe with a scar streaking over his left eye and another forming a starburst pattern on the opposite cheek. Both gleamed whitely against his richly tanned skin, roughened by years under the sun until it was bark etched with sharp elven features. His hair hung over his brow in lank, sandy blonde locks that was grizzled by time and experience, cropped short over his pointed ears and kept well out of his dark amber eyes. Ally grimaced again, the ache still throbbing in her head as she stretched her lips over words painfully to answer his questioning gaze. "Water... please. I asked for water." Sandy blonde locks swung as his head dipped and he disappeared from her gaze.

Barely able to move, Ally found the moment to test her bonds when the guard left, thick burlap ropes held her tightly inside of a hollowed log. The ancient spirit of the wood had long since returned to Tunare, but she could feel it's age in the near steel petrification. The interior was painstakingly carved and sanded until it was smooth as glass, and she could feel etched runes lining the edges of the logs interior that rubbed against her stretched arms. Startling realization made her jerk painfully against the bonds, rewarding her with a new wash of pain that churned her already sensitive stomach. Her prison was a Druid's coffin!

Approaching voices stilled her movements, though her breath came in painfully quick bursts and her heart fluttered like a caged butterfly. Once again, the weathered guard bent over her to test her restraints, frowning into her winces apologetically. As he rose, he murmured to a second guard some curt orders and his footsteps led him out of earshot. What replaced the gentle guard was a harder face of chiseled features. Cold blue eyes that matched the sky and gleamed with a predatory hunger flashed down towards her in a blatant leer, spanning the length of her prone figure with a half smirk. Pulling the stopper on a small flask, he touched it to her lips and seemed to take an unnatural pleasure to the sound of her satisfied sigh. When not nearly enough liquid had cooled the burning dryness in her throat, he pulled the flask away and poured the rest onto a small washcloth. Ally only closed her eyes, withdrawing into herself to spare the humiliation she was bound to find at his hands.

She found solace in a peaceful memory, bound not by ropes and pain, but by the strength in a pair of strong arms. Her eyes were closed as her head rested against a strong chest, etched with scars and steeled by battle worship. Here, the bloodlust was quiet and all there was to hear was the steady drum of his heartbeat under her ear coupled with the constant working of his breath resounding like bellows. Calloused fingers were tangled in her dark crimson hair, thumb tenderly stroking the sensitive skin at the nape of her neck while he rested his cheek against the top of her head. The feeling of it was so real, she could almost feel the sting of new tears finding its way to the surface, and never felt the damp rag as the guard took his time cleaning the blood and grime from her arms. Vaguely, she was aware he was moving the rag over her face and bathing her chapped lips with the cool water, but her mind was far, far away. It was another cool set of lips that touched over hers, tenderly feather light as calloused fingertips trailed lightly over her upturned cheek. Dark eyes were infinitely gentle, reverent as he soaked in the feel of her satin cheek with cool fingers. His smile was so heart-achingly beautiful, she couldn't wait until he did it again.

That is, until a jolt rocked her body against the bonds, making her tender flesh scream with the pain and her emerald eyes flew open. The blurred world centered on a pair of dark eyes, gleaming wickedly as he glared off at the guard who had been bathing her with the washcloth and realized that the rag lay dormant, saturated with blood both old and new, at the cleft of her bosom. For the heartbeat it took for her to tear her eyes from the dark ones that looked so familiar, she gave a small groan and let her eyes flutter closed again, the tears renewing trails down her cheeks. Vallon plucked the rag from her, careful not to make contact with her skin and tossed it away, the deep timbre of his voice barking a reprimand to the hard looking guard that she cared not to hear. The misery washed in to sting her eyes with a fresh torrent of tears as the infamous leader of the Ivy Order bent over her, scrutinizing her wounds and bonds much like the gentler guard did, but there was no apology in his eyes when she looked up at him and winced from the pain.

Wordlessly, he nodded and his shadow pulled away from her coffin to be replaced by one more slender, slightly taller in her elongated state with the breeze flowing through the scraggly, grizzled mane. The milky whiteness of her blind eyes unerringly found Ally's, registering the blatant fear in their widened emerald depths. "No ... no ... " Her voice sounded tiny, plaintively whining as she started to renew her struggle, ropes burning skin and new rivulets of her blood pulsing down her arms as she tried to get away. The jaggedly sharp smile washed her with the Seer's fetid breath as she pressed her hand over the fluttering of her heart and dug the spindle fingers into her soft skin, starting her torture all over again. Most of Vallon's order turned well away from the sound of her agonized screams.

Through it all, a spark of connection flickered to life in her mind, giving her the gift of hope and steeling her against the Seer's lies.