Chapter Two: The Auran.

((Penthar))
Penther nooded, remaining stoic and unemotional, knowing full well she was checking his aura for deception. "Agreed, my leader.It is wise to investigate this offshoot group first. If they are led by the warlock it could be a decoy, or the latter you suggested. They still will have guards posted." pausing for a brief moment as he thought over the information presented.
"If you wish, Ilva could lead. She can move ahead on point with the least possibility of detection, and would be able to alert us if it is a trap."
Her attitude towards him was expected. She had her loyalty until their common enemy was crushed, and the Auran was in their possession. It would take time to build the unification the army needed to route the Yiedin threat, but Penthar knew the other generals respected his tactical ability. It will be a strange alliance, but one beneficial to their cause.
"Then I agree we all take your advice and rest in camp before trailing this unusual group."

Soraya’s eyes dropped to the shadow wolf at his side, the corners of her lips lifting into a soft smile admiring the umbri, wolves being one of her favorite species, and this shadow played the part so well. “Yes… if this group does not wish to pass through Umbrovian territory then their only path would be through the Gora woods or mountains… many Umbri live there taking the forms of animals and living as natural creatures… even if they do spot her, they would not suspect her as a tamed shadow of Sudao… at least not too much perhaps.”

She would have liked to stroke the wolf’s black fur forming the mane about her large chest, but knew better. “I’m sure she would find them in no time. Thank you General, now I believe we all need our rest before we set out to find this traveling party, we will meet here again at sunset. Captain, you will of course bring your men, and General Penthar can bring your own if it pleases you… of course there will be no need for such a large number.”

They all turned, heading for their camp. Soraya walked, watching the massive back of the Penthar, feeling a great unease that the General of the Yerdan* was now apart of her plans. He was intimidating, freighting, powerful in all ways… she did not know if she feared him or not; would she have the courage to fight him in battle? Yes, she would, she concluded, but still could not decipher her resentment of having the General so close. Perhaps it was merely his stoic manner that unnerved her. Soraya’s train of dark thoughts broke off as her attention shifted to the young captain, remembering the man’s wound. “Are you fit to travel, Captain Katharysis?” she asked, looking up at him from where she walked.

Notice: BOARD JUMP! (I need to make a tag for that.) once we’re done here…
We’re probably a post or two away from the end of this scene, and we’ll continue on the main board as our Sudao characters track down the regiment in a new scene, shall we? We should play it on the main board as the new scene follows the same time and location.

and

Kath clenched him mouth shut as soon as the dreaded General came through his dark portal into the light of their sun. The Captain regreted saying anything out loud now. Though they were on the same side, Kath feared the man and was truly thankful that he did not serve under the man in any way save for rank only. He was beholden to Soraya herself and would follow where she lead without question because of the merit of her compassion and her goals which coincided with his own. Penthar, however, his motives seemed only to rouse his own blood by butchering any and all who stood between him and point B... wherever said point was.

Soraya and the dread General prattled back and forth, both posturing though the General appeared more sedate. It was still an establishment of hierarchy. Within Soraya's acquiesence, it was obvious that the General had won this round even if his logic was apparent. Penthar had surveyed all of his men who remained stoic in their expressions, stone soldiers, impassive in their present state of discipline. They did not disappoint their Captain.

Kath was a mite disappointed as his idea was forgotten with the sudden appearance of the fearsome General, but he ignored the slight from the interruption. It was rude, but Kath was forgiving... sometimes. He just didn't want to move until Penthar left as exposing his back to someone like that was just inviting trouble when there wasn't an enemy on the field.

He nodded to Soraya when she told him that he and his men would come on this important mission and followed her as she dismissed everyone.

When her voice spoke again, Kath was surprised to hear himself addressed. He slid down from his horse to be easier to see and began to lead the bay gelding. "Yes, ma'am. My wound will be fine in no time. I... I will cauterize it myself. You need not fear for my wellbeing. If you tell me that I am going, I will be well and going." He smiled at her, bright eyes twinkling, before he remembered his place and tried to wipe it clear from his face. "Ma'am. When do we leave?"

((Penthar))

"I will go with you, as to serve as relay to Ilya, and to you. I need none of my own men for this. Until later, my Lady. Captain, men" he said as he nodded to them before turning back to the shadows with Ilya at his heels. He would have to gain their trust, and bide his time as the outsider until such time as he was let into their circle.
Ilya panted as they entered the shadows and emerged near their tent. She sensed she would be traveling soon. "Patience, my pet" her master said to her "soon you will be able to put your talents to use. I will need you to prepare to track and stalk our enemies, but keep your distance from them, as we do not want to engage them at all."
She yipped softly, her fur rippling like long grass as she thought of the chase ahead....

((Ok, chapter ending! See u all on the main RPG board!))

“First thing at sunset, so we have about two hours or so to rest.” She did not forget the distant look in Kath’s eyes before the general’s appearance, and she understood his thoughts, fears and guilt. She placed a hand on Kath’s shoulder for a brief moment, her voice a near whisper. “The Lumerians do no less damage than we, Captain… we are at war… inadvertent, unnecessary casualties on either side are unavoidable… but I assure you: not many of the Lumerians dwell over the death of an Umbrovian, so neither should you. We are NOT the monsters they see us as…”

Soraya avoided the killing of any soul when possible, Lumerian and Umbrovians alike, as she felt no inclination on ‘settling a score’. Winning this war was enough, and did not wish to taint the pages of history yet to be written with the blood of their enemies, that was not the history nor image she wished upon her kind. Still, she would rather die before shedding a tear over the body of a Lumerian; she doubted her family’s killers spent a single moment in remorse or guilt since the day they mangled her mother and father’s bodies. "So rest your mind, Captain. See you in two hours."





((On main RPG board ps. ALL u Sudao characters can be there, even who ever wasn't part of the above conversation))

((Ooh! Nice to be back home ))

((Soraya))

The Surdan sorceress rode through the shadows until she once again stepped on Umbrovian territory many, many miles from the Gora mountains, her mind running over the last few, encouraging words of her captain: the General could still be alive, and simple had retreated. She glanced sideways at Kath, the usually calm, stoic man she had known for so long had been considerably… emotional and fretful over the last few weeks, and she did not miss the few times he had stepped over the line of formalities… Soraya was not finicky about ‘getting too close’ with her soldiers; she wished them to follow her and respect her because they loved and trusted her, not feared her… but it did worry her when they got a little too close…

That’s what Hivaro was there for; upon her uncle’s orders, he made sure that no other non-Surdan warlock would get close to her again. Her family had standards that they had to stick to in order to keep the Surdan blood-line flowing. Soraya easily kept her distance from THAT disturbing issue with a simple plan; worry about nothing more than her role as military leader… as long as she was a general, she would not be questioned about other roles…

But she was sure Kath had his head on right… perhaps he was tired, the war was getting worse, and she couldn’t expect her men to remain passive at ALL times, could she? They were all mortals after all.

They arrived at camp last, everyone having gotten there before them. She slid of her horse and trotted between the crowds of loud people, spotting Hivaro, faithful old Hivaro taking control of the situation. He saw her and signaled her to take hold, but she waved in decline; it was up to Hivaro. The old ex-General would have to now introduce himself and his army formally to the strangers, and welcome them to their Sudao camp, easing their fears that they were all Sudao, and not enemies. Orders were shouted to call forth Umbrovian healers to heal the wounds and their leader, Kovak, all the while the local soldiers wary of the newcomers; they were no threat to the strangers, this was true, but who knew who these people were, and who they served to what purpose? They would welcome them as allies, but they would still remain vigilant at all times.

Soraya found Kath’s group. “Your men are all here, Captain… Anyone needs a healer, you know what to do…” She said, a hint of relief in her voice. She found Veldrin between them too, and nodded to the camion, relieved that she had lost no one… but what about the General? She excused herself from the crowd as she sped on, until finally arriving at Penthar’s tent.

Without hesitation, she flipped the tent’s flap open, and stepped in. She stopped half way, barely suppressing a cry of alarm, her hand quickly slapping against her lips as she stared at the General in horror at the sight of his burnet face and wounds… even the wolf at his side appeared as if dead. A moment of silence before she would recollect her calm and Soraya’s arm slid from flap as it closed the opening behind her. “What are you doing in here alone, Y… You have no healer… did you not ask for a healer?” Soraya turned, about to jump out again and shout for one. The Surdans, unlike other Umbrovians, healed quickly, the Surda within them working fast to repair injuries, but sometimes it was not enough… and the General’s state made her fear the worst…

Veldrin surveyed the camp with grim eyes. Not too many casualties—the number of moving soldiers he saw didn’t seem to contrast too much with the number that was seen before the battle. Occasionally, he would watch Soraya as she drifted through the Sudao territory in an almost frantic way. Humans. The cambion’s demonic side made them seem so alien to him, while his human half made demons seem so foreign as well. There was no winning for him in this; he was born to be in the middle.

After a few more moments the healers of the Sudao army began dispersing through the crowd. Veldrin pushed his way through Kath’s men, away from the soldiers that actually could do well from the healing, and merely watched. The cambion eyed his once bleeding hand, noticed how the wound had finally stopped its diseased flow and crusted over with various bodily fluids.

He would have to rebandage himself again. The wrap that had covered his face now dangled uselessly, soaked in mud and gore. Muttering unearthly curses, the lieutenant yanked the garment off of his head and threw it to a pile of garbage. His bare, hairless and melting skull turned this way and that, watching the men and women of the Sudao with seemingly clearer vision, though truthfully it was no different. Veldrin began walking, studying the new swath of soldiers that had been led by what’s his face…Kovac or some such. He would have to meet this man; there seemed to have been more success with him alone than the entire rest of the army put together. And his methods—Veldrin and this character may have had more in common than the cambion was letting on. That was something to be recognized, and not feared. Or maybe Veldrin was one to take risks more often than not. He had taken note of the sometimes overblown caution possessed by many of the Sudao leaders—it was getting them no where.

The cambion caught sight of Hivaro in the midst of all the newbies, conducting his own study of the strangers. Whether or not the old general appreciated the cambion’s presence anywhere had yet to be known, but Veldrin wasn’t one to care either way, especially now. He weaved through the lines of foreign men, visibly observing them as they observed him back.

The officers of the guerrilla force (or at least those who weren't receiving direly necessary medical attention) met with those in charge of their adoptive army in force, supplying not only properly sealed documentation certifying their viability and purpose, but a formal request that their units be kept undivided for sake of the integrity of their force.

The grunts of the horsemen were stoic, and easily identified from the rest of their newfound comrades- few had shaved or had recent haircuts, their uniform all consisted of drab, camouflaging materials, and they absolutely rank. Days of sweat (man and beast), accumulated blood and gore and ash, as well as the musty smell of the furs and hides that had served as protection from the wintry weather accumulated to be so thick that one could practically taste it.

For the most part, they were stoic from exhaustion- healing their own when they could, taking water as warm as they could get it to clean their faces, before seeing to their mounts. It was all so much activity that they disregarded the presence of officers unless addressed in some manner- and watching, as all men are wont to do, weighing and judging what they saw and what they heard.

The cambion, of course, evoked the most interest- from outright stares to alarmed discomfort (some made religious signs at his passing), to comradic nods of sympathy (a few assumed his condition war-related)... and those with strong stomachs took a more active interest.

"Order all the funny-smelling ones to stick together, did they?" amusedly remarked a wiry and aging fellow as he curried his horse. A nearby unit member gave him a look and gruff punch on the shoulder by way of rebuke.


Czernian, for his part, had been revived to some degree, and was standing at the entrance of a tent that had been cleared for medical use... with the aid of a makeshift cane, thick bandages wound around his bare torso. A patch covered the eye that had been turned closes to the blow that felled him, and he was yet uncertain if it was going to be a permanent fixture to his appearance.

He watched his surroundings mutely, drawn and obviously pained.

((Penthar))

The gasp form his leader confirmed the hideousness and extent of his wounds and disfigurement. He had come to his tent to primarily have Ylva rest before having for a nearby guard to bring a healer. His face burned with intense pain, and his blindness had made him unsettled, especially without his Surda to empower him.
" I had not had time to call one as of yet" was his shaky reply as carbonized skin around his drawn mouth cracked and bled, sending new stinging waves of pain over the top of the existing burning. His nose, now a scab of burned flaking flesh and caked blood, was nearly as horrifying as the burned and bloody indents that were vacant of his silver eyes.
"I needed to get Ylva here to rest first" he said as he turned away, pulling the hood of his tattered cloak back up. "If there is one available, have them report here" he finished as he sat down, keeping his head down to avoid shocking the Lieutenant General any further.
Penthar dug the fingers of his large hands into the arms of his chair, denting the simple wooden arms as he fought off the waves of pain and the shaking that was attempting to build up through his battered and weakened body. Baran had made an endgame move, nearly destroying the both of them in the process. Penthar hoped the bastard hurt as much as he did, but was uncertain.
" Forgive me, my lady, but I am not ready at the moment to give you a full report of the battle between Odei Baran and myself. As soon as the healer is done with me, I will fill you in straightway."
Penthar relaxed his breathing as he rested, taking his mind off of the pain by analyzing Baran's fighting moves and tactics. Next time the two met, He would be more than prepared for him. He chuckled inwardly as he played the battle over in his mind, thinking to himself that knowledge does not come free, and there is always a price......

((Soraya))

The wide, silver eyes of Soraya blinked before an incredulous chuckle escaped her lips… followed with a curse. She stepped out of the tent, her voice booming as she called out for a healer, and only returned within after catching the attention of one who ran off for more supplies. A moment later and she was back in the tent, and at Penthar’s side. It was moments like this that it became easy for Soraya to forget her own personal battles and to forgive… any resentment she might have felt towards the General was now forgotten as she looked at him through new eyes, readily placing him within the same favored line as Hivaro, Captain Katharysis, Veldrin and the rest of the ‘gang’.

He fought for her cause… true they all fought for the freedom of the Umbrovians, but no one was obligated to follow her to the Lumerian camp that night…

She placed her hand over his arm where the skin lay bare yet was free of burns or cuts, and squeezed lightly. “The bloody report can wait… General. It can wait for days for all I care…” Though she itched to ask all the questions flooding her mind, but it would have to wait, Soraya studying the grim lines of his burth face as Penthar fought back his pains in an effort to remain proud. “The healer will be here in a minute. Rest as much as you need.” And with that she left him to rest, for now Soraya would satisfy her other curiosities. She stood momentarily next to her men again, observing the activities of the newcomers and her own. “Any news of who they are, Captain?” she asked, “Lets find out who sent them, why they followed the regiment and attacked… their leader appears awake now…”

She waded between the soldiers, most of them towering over her until she finally reached Kovak, Hivaro having just completed filling in the man on who they were. Soraya found Veldrin there too, curiously observing the men around him, and in turn getting looks of all kinds. It angered her, the way people stared… Demon or not, human, injured, whatever these men assumed might be the cause of Veldrin’s appearance, it gave them no right… and despite knowing well that Vedlrin was untouched by this, Soraya’s inborn instinct to protect ‘her boys’ would not stop. She stood next to the man/demon, making it a point to stand considerably close without actually appearing as if she were about to jump the creature, accentuating that he was one of her soldiers, and an equal. A small gesture, but one that satisfied her. She chuckled inwardly as she realize that now she stood flanked by a demon and captain kath on the other side, and thought she probably looked like a crime lord with her two cronies. “Thank you Hivaro, for the introductions… I believe now it is our dear friend’s turn to tell us where he and his men come from.” She spoke to Kovak, noting the man was quite well, a surprise considering the type of ‘weapon’ used on him.

Czernian lifted a brow at those that had assembled before him, and might have looked amused if not for the fact that pain had a way of drawing one's expression into a scowl. It was a considerable step away from military decorum and procedure, formal or informal.

"Lieutenant-General.. Sirs," he greeted them quietly, taking a moment to be sure he had eye contact of them all at least once. As they had not bothered with formalities, he withheld a salute. "I am Major Czernian Kovak. The force I lead is a specialized guerrilla corps. Our mission before the last month has been to deter any new forces, contingents, or armies from joining the main Yeidin encampments." He had to pause a moment to take a quiet, steadying breath, and his hand clenched briefly around the pommel of the cane he used.

"We were given direct orders from the Grand General- your uncle, I was told -to desist and move south, to join your force and swell its ranks. As I understand it, he much understood and predicted the outcome of Azrian." He paused again, a corner of his mouth twitching down. "My officers released our documentation of such to your aides, and the sealed dispatches should be there even now, as well as other necessary communique, and a message of his own." A cough caught him then, and he turned his head aside while it took its course.

When Kovak steadied and straightened himself, he simply waited for acknowledgment. With a sardonic dismay he understood his reception would be... less than positive.

Veldrin caught the varying reactions of the surrounding soldiers with ease—at least they were not condemning him to burn in Hell, or some other disgusted form of religious zealotry. The cambion was in the company of allies, he had to remember. This was no Yeidin infested city with an agenda of cleansing on its mind. When Soraya came up to stand by his side, this reminder was made stronger, and he leaned a curt nod in the woman’s direction, though no words came out. He then turned back to regard the foreign major, melted brows flexing with intrigue.

”Guerilla warfare…” the cambion mused aloud. He eyed Soraya. ”Your uncle’s smart.” If the massive Yeidin army was going to continue utilizing outside forces to fight their battles like they had been, it was only fair for the Sudao to meet their tactics in a similar fashion. Veldrin was pleased to find this out, and thus a new shadow fell over the half-demon’s face. A realization that the secrets he had been withholding for so long with this encampment would soon unfold. Kovac’s presence here seemed like a convenient reminder to the cambion, anyway. He would have to speak with Soraya when the time was right; for now, he allowed this newcomer’s story to unfold. Veldrin’s face was still and stoic as he regarded the major. He tried his best to muffle any oncoming words, not wanting to speak over Soraya’s authority.

((Soraya))

Her welcoming, soft smile curved downward into a frown as she received Kovak’s news of who he served; her uncle, General Hikram. Her scowl deepened at Veldrin’s remark. Yes, he’s smart… she thought, but also would not let her breath. Soraya had wished to leave the south and join forces further north in the greater battles, to take part in a fight that would make a difference and mark a point in history. But instead he sent her and her army south to ‘guard’ the Umbrovian borders… a pitiful job for extremely capable men. It aggravated the hells out of her, especially as she could never know if he did this because he doubted her capability as commander, or because he tried to protect her? Perhaps it was a little of both.

Him sending Kovak to her was an obvious move to further push the point that her priorities would be no more than to sustain the umbrovian borders here, near the Gora mountains, where it was obvious that the Lumerians had abseloutly no interest whatsoever in overtaking these lines.

But now the battles up north were not her only concern. The small band of Yedin travelers… there was something there that no one took notice of. A small regiment as that, yet so heavily guarded by Alati? What where they hiding…

Soraya regarded the major for some time, chin raise, eyelids lowered, appearing to be resentful of his presence when really the storm brewing within her had nothing to do with any of the people around her. Finally she spoke, her words fast, her voice hard and free of her usual warmth. “Thank you, Major. You have already met General Hivaro, and this is Captain Katharysis, Lieutenant Veldrin. My men will see to your every need, you have but to ask.” She then lifted her eyes to those around her in charge, instructing them to eat and rest for the rest of the evening. She looked to Hivaro. “… General, I trust you will take charge tonight. I have some urgent business to tend to. In the morning, round up our officers, generals and captains for a meeting. Now if you will excuse me…” she nodded to her men, stopping for a second. “General Penthar has been heavily injured. Please see to it that the healers do their job.” And with that she left the crowd, quick strides and hard lines of her face making it clear that no one was to follow or bother her for the rest of the night.

((Ylva))
she lay near her master's chair, weak and ragged in her wolf form. Consolidation her energy was helping her to recover slowly from the battle with Obsidian, but it would take time on it's own. Ylva's master could not assist her in her recovery as of yet, being without eyesight and the power of his Surda for now. Her master commanded her to rest and not guard, and she would obey, barely lifting her head as two of the camp's healers entered the tent, gasping at the site of the grizzly duo..

((Penthar))
The wooden arms of his chair cracked under the grip of his hands, knuckles white as muscles and tendon lines on the back of them grew intense as the healers peeled away crisped and bubbled flesh from his face. Quickly, they used their dark magic to heal, closing over the wounds with fresh new skin his own body had been accelerated in to growing.

Penthar's body shook lightly, his clothing and back of his head now damp with sweat as he used what strength he had to control the pain and the strain on his body as the healers performed their job. His Surda would have controlled the pain and speed along the healing. But for now, the General was on his own.

The two healers stopped for a moment,concerned with his physical state.
The one on his left spoke first.
"General, perhaps we should let you rest before we continue. We are concerned that it is becoming...well..too much on you at this time" swallowing hard at the last sentence, knowing good and well the General's reputation.

Penther reached up, grabbing both by the shirt and pulling them down to where they could here him at a whisper.
"Continue now. No delays. I need my eyesight back tonight, or I will have your eyeballs to feed to Ylva! Understood?" Releasing them, the General went back to steadying himself for the next wave of pain.

The two healers nodded, wide-eyed as they continued on to complete their task, careful not to anger their patient with another stop.

In his mind, Penthar formulated new defenses and attacks against his worthy adversary. the warlock Baran would come to know new levels of pain in the very near future. Penthar was going to see to it personally.

Veldrin was in no mood…nor condition…to sleep, rest, or whatever it was that Soraya had suggested before she strode off in muffled rage. Staying still for the hours at a time that was required to sleep made the otherworldly pain that wracked the man’s body feel even worse. Veldrin usually only rested when he needed to. Right now, he didn’t feel the need. Instead, the cambion’s bald head turned to watch the lieutenant-general disappear into the coming night; he could tell by her steps alone that she wanted to be left to her own devices. Perhaps to plan for this meeting she said would commence the next day. So be it.

The cambion resisted the urge to roll his bloody eyes at Soraya’s last minute order to check on General Penthar. Honestly, the half-demon could care less about the silly little man and his pet dog. And feigning concern for the man would probably only insult the general more, especially from Veldrin. He sure would enjoy seeing the proud man’s burnt face, however. They would have something in common for the brief moments where healing wasn’t involved. Nice, hideous faces staring at each other.

Veldrin gave a brisk bow to Kovac and a nod to Kath before dismissing himself. He walked through the crowd of soldiers once more, this time eyeing some of the ones that had commented earlier with his glazed, calculating stare, as if scrutinizing their souls like a hellish watchman. When he finally approached General Penthar’s tent at the far end of the camp, the cambion stopped before the closed flap and listened. The man seemed to be confronting the healers with their methods. Figured…but not so much due to the attitude of Penthar than the obnoxious doting and kowtowing behavior that healers held when doing their job.

When a healer came from within to open the flap of the tent, Veldrin hid amusement at the startled face of the magician. Aside from the glances that the cambion got from others in the army, it was the concerned and shocked gazes of the healers that had the most reaction. Even after so long, Veldrin still received offers to fix his condition from naïve medics. Others merely gave him looks of, What did we do wrong? and so on.

Veldrin allowed the healer to side step him and leave the tent, allowing himself a clean view of Penthar’s temporary abode. He could see the general gripping his chair in agony as the healers did their slow work. Stepping inside, the lieutenant eyed the healers pointedly, watching as their fingers struggled to cease their trembling now that another authority was in their midst. Their work became more articulate, careful; Veldrin was a familiar one to the healer crowd. Even though his condition was incurable, he did enjoy watching them squirm time and time again with him, thus making him infamous to their practice.

((Penthar))

He heard the muffled gasps of the healers and the rustle of his tent flap opening, followed by the low growl from Ylva. The healers had just finished retoring his nose-somewhat, and he began to smell the stench of his burnt flesh, mingled with the smell of another familiar creature....the cambion.

'So, the half-breed has come to gloat. I hope he gets a really good look' the General thought to himself as one healer began peeling away the charred skin that was once his left eyelid and brow before working his dark magic. Slowly, the healer began restoring his left eye while another began wiping away blood and fluid that flowed from the open wound.
"Good evening Lieutenant. I hope you faired better than most in tonight's little skirmish" he said roughly as he remained still for the healers. "What can I do for you?"

Soraya had toted him around like a favored handbag as she set about seeing that all of her allies were fine. He nodded as was necessary, soot and grime covered as was suspected. Soraya herself hadn't made a fuss over his accidental trip-up over her title earlier on and Kath himself was feeling okay. His men were not sorely wounded though some bled from many shallow cuts. Cordeau was a boulder whether immersed in his earthen powers or not. Yes, elementals always seemed a little too tied to their elements.

After introducing him and the others to the Major and stalking off, Soraya had left it pretty clear that no one was to speak to her for the remainder of the night. Kath himself excused himself quietly and went to be with his men. They looked decent. Penny's dark friends had excused themselves once more and Grevor was supplying ice for bruises and contusions. The rest had found their handy bandages as they had been trained. There was no need for surgeons and healers. The natural toughening was better for the body than easy-flowing magic healing.



"Ah! Cap'n, you return! I seem to be lucky enough that I can see ya wit' me other good eye, yeah?" Cordeau chuckled as he held an icechunk wrapped in gauze over the other eye. Castor and Felix grinned, both alive to fight another day. Perhaps it was lucky for Kath that most of his group was of elementals. He fit in.

Himself, fiery and temperamental when the mood struck him. Cordeau, earth steady. Grevor, icy and aloof. Felix with his fast feet and whirlwind fury. Seven was an oddity with his patience and silence that wore away at all that stood against him, like an old meandering river that created a canyon to fit its flow. Of course, Henrick, Castor, and Penny worked differently than them. Henrick's poisons were very fine. Castor's enchantments, when he could remember when to renew them, were also sturdy though never quite foolproof. Penny was a dark one. When in battle, he always had an aura of darkness that surrounded him and those dark friends of him, ghostly creatures of dark mists that reaked havoc upon those enemies that happened to cross his blade. And so the whole troop stayed upon the fringes when at all possible to maximize their talents and, for the most part, it worked fine. They understood their moods, their desires, their emotions, and their goals. And because they had worked together for so long, they all owed the other a life for a life which made them brothers in a sense.

"Yeah, I'm back, you old son of a goat. I see those Yeidin fouled you up rather well." Kath grinned challengingly.

"Son o' a goat, am I? A' least I'm not ugly, sir. All due respect." They both chuckled as did the rest of the men. "So... you seem ta not be yerself at this moment. The loverly Lieutenant Gen'ral realize yerself has a crush on her yet?"

Kath's face reddened horribly for a moment before turning quite pale, narrowing his eyes and lashing out a pointing finger. "I DO NOT! YOU UNDERSTAND?! NOT!"

"Kay kay, Captain. We understand that your mooning expressions have nothing to do with the object of your mooning, the lovely Soraya silver-eyed, a woman of song and poetry that most men would make ballads of love over had this not been wartime and she not the niece of a high ranking officer... and not interested in fighting." Felix supplied his two cents with a flourish and a overly long bat of the eyelids. Kath fumed loudly, little sizzles coming off of the edge of his fingertips.

"Discussion over! Got it?! OVER! Our relationship is purely work-related. Now if you excuse me, I have a report to write and send to the Lieutenant General immediately." The men chuckled a Kath finished his statement, whereupon he turned painfully red again and stalked off to his tent.

"Per'aps we need ta be nicer ta him later, yes? 'E's a bit sensitive on a certain subject, me thinks." Cordeau winked to the rest of the men while wiping a drip of ice off of his cheek. It sure was nice to be back at camp.

Czernian was surprised to see his.... company.... dissipate as quickly as it had come. Standing there with suddenly no one to stand straighter for, he slumped slowly against his cane, and rolled his eye. Unsurprisingly uneventful. He sighed, and the sound was rough.

He made his way a small distance into the milling ranks of his men, inquiring about progress, losses, and their reception. The answers were mostly satisfactory. "...did my horse manage to make it...?" he inquired lastly, with perhaps the same concern as if asking about the health of a distant relative.

"Pretty well, all in all-" answered his second, who bared his teeth in an aggressive smile. "He'd caught a few arrows on his way out, but the cold and work hardens their hides. He cared more about them when we took them out, and almost bit the hand off one of the men helping."

It was something they shared a chuckle over before discussing the events of the prior battle.

Veldrin kept his arms behind his back and stood at a straight posture, observing the general and his attendants from a distance. He bowed at Penthar’s recognition to his presence. ”The lieutenant-general saw it fit for me to observe the competence of our healers once more. But I see they hardly need my authority here.” The cambion’s glazed eyes could still see the general’s condition fully. He was not disgusted—far from it—but was still surprised at the sight. That Odei Baran or whatever sure did a number on Penthar. But the general seemed to be taking the damage as well as Veldrin did with his own disease; something he had personally dealt with all his life. The cambion would never admit to it, but he had a little twinge of respect for that Penthar just then. Something he rarely felt for anyone unless they bore something particularly interesting to offer up.

Such a gesture of reverence would be made even more invisible underneath Veldrin’s rotting, naked face. But while the healers were still unsettled by Veldrin’s leprous visage, he knew that he and Penthar shared somewhat of a physical affinity, however brief. It sure made for a somewhat awkward meeting. Not wanting to dally any longer than he was needed, Veldrin voiced some more information to complete his duties at the tent. ”Aside from that, general, we are to have a meeting in the morning. Lieutenant-general Soraya insists upon it. So be sure to prepare whatever information you need.”

((Penthar))

The General stifled a smile, thinking how funny it was for Lieutenant Veldrin to receive the dubious honor of having to check up in him. It seems Lieutenant General Karmani should spend less time worrying about him.
"Thank you Lieutenant. The healers are proficient in their tasks, though a bit doting over a little pain" he said, chuckling lightly. "I will prepare a full report after these butchers are done with me. If you wish, help yourself to some Cognac on the table near the cot."

His eyesight was blurry at first, then focus came to him. He looked up at his healers with a cold gaze. Their shocked faces told the story; even with their skills, he would be hideous for some time before his Surda could restore his features to a more normal appearance-minus the extra scars, of course. Gods, he was in pain. The healers continued, peeling away crisped flesh and covering the open wounds with their dark magic, closing it with puffy, fresh skin.

Finally, they healers stepped back, and the pain in Penthar's face and body subsided a little. He slowly stood up, and walked over to the mirror near his wash basin. Looking into it, he hardly recognized himself. His face was mottled and misshapen, and his hair was gone from the front of his forehead to his now deformed ears. He turned, and stared at the healers, seeing their fear and dread on their faces.

One of the healers spoke, stammering as he stood there, fearing the worst from the General.
"Sir, we did our best. Please understand the ex-"

Penthar cut off the fool with a wave of his hand" It is satisfactory. You are both dismissed."Turning, he walked over to his cot, and picked up a glass, awaiting the cambion's response to see if he was still interested in the drink or not.
"It seems we have more in common than we realize Lieutenant. Still care for that drink?"

The evening passed without anything more significant than had passed earlier; which was a blessing to the Major. Kovak limped among his ranks with the help of his makeshift cane, looking and feeling at least ten years older.

He circulated orders that the men were to enjoy the comforts of more traditional shelter while they could; tomorrow they would take back to their less traditional shelter. The soldier made requests of his captains for written reports to be turned in at the abrupt meeting on the morrow.

They asked no questions of him. And he none of them. The injuries all had sustained were largely a taboo subject; by not mentioning them, one could almost believe them superficial, insubstantial.

Almost.

By the time he was heading back to his temporary cot in the medical ward, Kovak was more than ready to collapse. He felt arthritic, to say nothing of the pain in his chest... every few moments, it would set him to coughing.

With the night soon to be bleeding into dawn, he settled in for what he prayed might be a restful sleep.

((Soraya))

Slender fingers marred with feint, scars, fruit of years of wielding heavy swords and weapons, whirled the small bound booklet in lazy, slow circles across the smooth surface of the oak desk. It had been through most of that night that Soraya sat at her great desk, hand tracing the lines of the book and whirling it in circles. In it were logged previous, current and pre-planned locations of her uncle Hikram and his other men of high command… names that Hikram took far more seriously than that of his own niece’s, even if they did fall below her rank. None of them had been assigned to the tedious, insignificant task of guarding borders that their enemies obviously did not even have the slightest interest in attacking.

The log was updated regularly with the arrivals of news-bearing messengers, and according to strict orders kept close by. Soraya would have to look to the log to understand where and when she would be able to locate her uncle… or his commanders, if needed… for they were so far away that one could not merely step into the darkness of the Auralis and instantly find them. It served as a marked ‘map’ for when she needed to personally locate them and discuss pressing matters and decisions…

It had been all night long that she thought of opening the booklet, skimming through the dates and locations jotted down at different times in different inks and handwritings until finally finding her uncle’s possible current whereabouts and confronting him on the matter of the new troops sent to her lead by Kovak and of the regiment… but pride and rage held her back.

Finally, with a powerful, angry flick of her fingers, the book was sent flying off the table and to the stone floor. Soraya whipped up her sword and a coat, crossed the room with determined strides and left her room, catching an officer on the way, ordering him to alert her commanders that she was expecting them in the main hall for an immediate meeting. A glance through a passing window and Soraya saw that it was still considerably dark, all the men might still be asleep… yet still she would not wait any longer, for now she would ask them for their alliance and loyalty to her and her alone…

…and not to her great uncle Hikram.

"Sir..... Sir, there's a message."

Kovak's eyes cracked open to a disorienting view; one side all blackness, the other a dim view of the tent roof. His side and chest tightened with distant pain, and for a fleeting, selfish moment he would have given anything to be anywhere else. To be allowed a comfortable bed and at least a few solid hours' uninterrupted sleep.

He breathed a ragged sigh. "Yes... yes, I hear you." He pushed himself upright, a hand lifting to rub the patch over his eye. He'd never guessed how uncomfortable such things were. Turning to look at the messenger, he was surprised to find it one of his captains. His surprise must have been evident, because the man ducked his grizzled face in acknowledgment.

"...there's been a summons to the Lieutenant-General's headquarters," the older man said, a little haltingly, meeting his superior's gaze squarely. "A meeting."

Czernian nodded, and frowned... though he remembered the directive from the night before, he certainly wasn't looking forward to it. "I'll understand if the captains don't have their documents in order. This wasn't nearly enough time... please collect what there is, and drop it back by."

"Sir." Was the curt reply. The man hesitated, frowning. "Sir... we've been having doubts. It looks like these forces have sustained heavier losses than anticipated... our force isn't enough to patch the gap, especially after that skirmish. And we should be on the move, even now- we killed most of their animals... the only way their contingent will be able to make any time is to hitch their men to the carriages, and that will make them vulnerable. This is bad form, bad tactics, and we're only giving the enemy more headway."

The simple phrase made Czernian's blood run cold, and he turned to look at the captain with concern. "... I know ..." he said at length, moving to set his feet against the floor. "...There is nothing we can do. Yet. We're under new leadership. Let the men rest. I'll give my report on the meeting when it adjourns, and then we'll convene. Inform anyone who asks: we'll do what we have to."

The man nodded, gave a half-bow, and then made his exit.

When he was sure he was alone, Czernian leaned over the other side of the cot, snatching up his journal and a slender stick of sharpened charcoal; he flipped over to a blank page with frenzied quickness, scrawling down some bulleted notes. He considered what he'd written with a pale, drawn expression before tucking both items away.

Sucking in an unsteady breath, Kovak rubbed his face- he would have to tread carefully, here. Everything he had worked towards was coming into a very real jeopardy.

So he donned his uniform, smoothed his hair, rubbed the dirt off his boots and collected his reports. After a glum look at the walking stick, where it leaned against the cot, he decided to bear being slow to arrive, and make it without that help.


When he arrived, it was a little winded, but stiff-backed and stern nonetheless.

Chapter Two: The Auran.

(Just west of camp past a small swamp in a cave)

crackle....crack...pop sounds from a small fire lighting the cave in a dim light, he began to open his eyes, his vission was blurry and still felt tired from the hunt he had been on for the last seven days.Rubbing his eyes with the palms of his hands he yawned and sat up from his thin animal hide he used as a bed.Rising from the bed on to the cold ground of the cave floor he walked out side to the small swamp that had served him well for so many years.With his bare skin showing he steped into the chilled water and began to wash up before he had to gather wood for his fire.The hair on his neck was standing on end due to the water that felt refreshing and soothing to his old scares from past battles.
Standing waist high in the water he looked up at the clear sky above the swamp as a saddened expression covered his face....Sigh.... He new that there was no hope for him in this life time and all he could think about was if the forces of Umbrovian had succeded in there war yet. He hadn't heard anything from the wanderers that past through his swamp to gather water or a good nights sleep in a while.Gazing at the cloudes his right eye had started to glaze over with water and a tear came down his smooth face.With a deep breath he turned to wards his cave and steped out of the water bearing his exposed body to the trees and bush's that surrounded him.A slight breeze pushed at his skin as it passed him.
The cold air gave him a chill that went down his spine...."oh .. That was strange" he thought to him self As he grabed a cloth that he wraped around his waist.

((Sorry for the dry spell))

((Penthar))


The General was not surprised when the cambion politely refused the drink and abruptly left. It didn't matter. The first thing was to take a vial from his table and head over to Ylva. The hybrid creature was lying on her belly, laboring once again as she fought to heal. Penthar knelt down, opening her jaw under mild protests from his pet as he poured the potion down her throat.

Ylva's grey-black fur rippled for a moment. The wolf snorted and put her head down on her front paws, closing her eyes and sleeping-if you could call it that. Truly, no one knew if such shadows truly slept, or just mimicked the behavior of their lives so long ago.

Penthar arose, though stiff and still weak from his injuries. Ylva would 'sleep' for a day, and be completely healed when she awoke. The General felt the Surda inside him stir as the binding spell wore off, and would soon begin the tedious task of repairing the damaged warlock.

Late into the night and early morning he worked, pouring over maps and writing notes, as well as writing his report for his 'commander'. Once he had finished, Penthar gathered it all in a neat and organized form, closing it up in a leather satchel and setting it on top of his desk.

"That lumerian convoy is hiding something important. Why would that warlock Baran risk immolating us both unless...but could they really be in possession of it?" was what ran through the the General's mind. A devilish grin formed across his misshapen face as he walked over to his cot, and pulled a large, long chest out from underneath.

Digging inside, he took out a dark leathery garment, as well as a quiver of long arrows and set them on his cot. Digging some more, he produced a massive and ornately figured long bow and bow string.
He stood, and took the bowstring, attaching it and setting one end of the longbow on the ground against his foot.

Grunting and straining, he bent the bow, looping the other end of the string on the other end as he released it. With a finger he plucked the string, nodding as it vibrated, it's low hum almost sickening to hear.
He set the bow on his cot and picked up the garment, unfolding and shaking it out to air it.

“It has been a long time since I wore the mask of an assassin. Almost fitting, with what I am going to propose-or do anyways, if she doesn't follow my advise” the General thought as he covered his still hideous features with the assassin's hood, tying it behind his head.

The noise of a guard outside alerted him, and he turned as the tent flap opened.
“Sir, Lieutenant General Karmani is calling for an immediate meeting...”