The rest is silence.

[Rhaxta]

Water. A cool stream lapping against the darkness in her mind. Gently clearing, washing the dark away like it was mud, bringing to light the shine of something forgotten. Words, curses, thanks, spells, prophecies, events, wounds, friends. Eventually they were uncovered, gently drawn from the dark, and brought into the light.

The last few months had been a struggle. To her, it had felt like eternity. Too full of fear, anger and confusion for there to have ever been anything else. But there was. The quiet times in her village. That was...boring though. It seemed there was either boredom or danger. She hadn't been in the happy medium for a while. She had been captured, attacked, attacked again, lost control, attacked once more by Arkantos - nearly. Then something had...happened. From that point on it was a blur. She remembered Rash'agal, of course. Though it didn't seem - real. Everything had happened too quickly, leaving her exhausted from physical and emotional strains. It had been about a month since she had slept properly. It didn't count if you didn't remember going to sleep or were knocked unconscious.

That was how she lost her two- three companions. She just woke up a few miles from here, no memory of what had happened or how she had gotten there. Rhaxta just woke up; alone.
She followed a well-trodden road near where she woke and after three nights of traveling at her loping run, she came to a city. It seemed like a stone jungle to her. She had ventured in only once to find out where she was and to buy some new supplies. The northernmost city of Surda, Cithri. Making camp in a small woods a little way out of the city borders, Rhaxta kept an eye on the skies each day for three weeks. Hoping to see the glint of the green and flash of wings that belonged to the dragon Forest, and with him would be Pike. They were escorting them to the Varden, her and Arkantos. She had never found out why before they were separated.

Now she was in Surda. She hoped that they would pass through here- hoping they would have not searched for her and carried on. With any luck, in this direction. If they still could. She would have to give up soon and move on. After being here for nearly a month, Rhaxta had made a more comfortable camp than usual. She had even made a fairly rough tent from deer skins and a small fur rug that she used as a blanket. She lay near the fire now, letting it dry her bare skin which was wet from her recent bathe in the river nearby. When she dried she covered herself in the small fur rug to just cover her body, leaving her legs sticking out to catch the fresh air from the breeze and glow in the light of the fire.
She was opening her mind within itself, letting it slowly piece bits back together and clean the black fog from her mind. A stray thought floated to the surface. Arkantos had taught her this. Not directly, she had simply observed him when he meditated, and back before Rash'agal was in there, she would slowly let her consciousness drift from behind her eyes and brush against his. Her mind floated out now, searching for that familiar press against her mind. Nothing familiar, just the usual insects, owls, and sandy-coloured foxes with large ears which lived on the plains nearby.
No people. No Pike, Forest or Arkantos. She left her mind drift further, a little part of her still alert for any probing conciousness that could threaten her. Eventually, the fire was fading and Rhaxta slowly drifted into that pink softness between awake and asleep.





(Yay post! and yay naked time for Rhax! )

[Wikvaya]

Noise rushes in from everywhere. Sometimes, it overwhelms the senses and cause one to lose their sanity. It is irritation incarnate, laughing into your ear and ensnaring your brain like a kitten ensnares a ball of yarn.

Noise was what surrounded Wikvaya, the Far Traveler, and it was noise he stared in the face.

Cithri's bazaar was something to be marveled at. Even though the sun was beginning to dip for it's nightly abode, people were still rushing about, buying trinkets, food, articles of clothing, and more. It surprised him that humans would go to such lengths to surround themselves with wealth and luxury. This made them like himself, though in a much different sense. Whilst wealth and material things were something to be treasured, being fat and pampered day in day out is just boring. What was there to do? Just eat more and sleep around more. It actually made him quite sick, those fat humans down there on main street. He himself was watching on an above roof pleasantly licking his paw. And what lay below him was a spectacle of both wealth and poverty, lords and beggars. Humans were a queer race, how they distinctly divided themselves between the rich and the poor and kept away from each other. The Dwarves were similar, however their culture provided a sense of camaraderie due to them having clans. Humans? Well, humans just let each other suffer.

A sudden stoke to his side caused him to jounce violently. He turned and hissed, out of reflex. While he had been thinking and reflecting, a female had taken an opportunity to snuggle up close to him. Now she stepped back several paces, mewling sweet nothings while doing her best to look appealing. Poor thing, she must have never mated before. That's another human problem. They trap and tame various animals before denying them their primary instincts. This queen needed this, allowing him to feel bad denying her. Oh well.

Her sad keening echoed across the rooftops as he leapt over them. Watching Humans play their little games and live their little lives had lost appeal to him. Especially now that he was now clean from giving himself a bath. Blurred colors rushed underneath him with each bound and the sun drew ever closer to it's rest. This was a problem. It's not that Wikvaya was afraid of the dark, per se. It was more of it caused trouble due to being the time of all the alley-cats, stray dogs, and other assorted animals to make trouble for him. He would have to leave the city and bed somewhere in the outskirts.

Upon entering said outskirts, he became curious when noticing a small, nearly extinguished fire. It was not unusual to see a camper or hunter or some such creature doing this, but out of pure curiosity he investigated. Curiosity killed the cat, as they say. He entered the campsite and padded slowly toward the tent, peeking inward to come upon a woman, half asleep, quite beautiful, and looking as though she's been through more than one should. Sighing, he went outside and sat there, ready to see what this encounter brought.

[Rhaxta]

The pink darkened as Rhaxta fell into a dreamless - if somewhat troubled - sleep. The mental net she had cast around her to keep an eye for those approaching shrunk to just around her camp site, the insects and rodents moving in and out slightly disturbing the tendrils of her consciousness like flies in a spiders web, but none significant enough to wake her - until now.
Rhaxta murmured, waking up she listened intently, but through the grog of sleep didn't realize why. Clambering out of her shelter she wandered over to the now sleeping fire and pulled the fur skin she had made around her to save her skin from the chill of the fresh morning air. Yawning gently she suddenly realized she hadn't guarded her consciousness and quickly retrieved it back behind her green eyes, throwing up her guard again. There was someone - or something - very close by. She turned slowly, trying not to give away she had realized and cursed herself for hanging her weapons up on the branch of a tree on the other side of the camp to save the leather of the quiver she had made from the starving teeth of the desert foxes, that she had learned earlier they would eat anything. There were a few patches in her shelter from where they had eaten the very hide out of it when she was hunting one evening.

Casting her gaze about she saw nothing - then...

''God Rhax, you're a total fool'' she said, spotting what she first assumed was a stray cat from Cithri. ''Hey there buddy, you after my supplies eh?'' she said with a grin. She thought he had come from the city to hunt, though he didn't look like the half-starved city cats she had come across on her excursion for supplies, they ran at the very sight of any person anyway. Titling her head to the side, she took down her mental barrier and reached out with her mind, brushing gently at the cats consciousness putting across her good intentions. It would be nice to have some company after a while alone anyway.

The consciousness shone like a beacon compared to the creatures that had roamed through the web the last few weeks. ''That's....odd,'' she murmured. Having never come across a were cat before, she had no idea what to make of this ...different looking cat.
She sat cross legged near the fire and began putting a few more logs on it, with a view to cook herself some breakfast.

'What's your name?'' she asked aloud and if she could, through a mental link she was trying to establish.


(Your choice if she can - don't want to force it on you x] )

[Wikvaya]

The wait had been uneventful. Of course, why had he expected different? He was waiting for some ruffian he didn't know would be worth talking to to wake up. Why, you might ask? Because he felt like it. Was there any other reason? He thought not. However, this girl did seem to have an interesting look about her, so maybe his suspicions were justified. Whilst fighting this internal debate, he was absentmindedly looking out into the distance, then toward the city.

One archer went by, and another.

This was horribly boring. He needed some excitement to shaken up the-hang on. A city mouse was scurrying about. He smelt it. Now the hunt was afoot. He saw it by the dwindling fire and, creeping to the side, pounced quickly... but not quickly enough. The mouse darted away, but it had made the mistake of going towards a tree. Wikvaya guessed it was only because it was panicking. Oh well. He enjoyed the semi-chase, anyways.

Hang on, something else was happening now. The girl was waking. She seemed to be paranoid of something. Perhaps... him? The mind touching his confirmed this, and he allowed access only because she thought him to be a normal stray cat.

"My name is ever-changing. To some, I am the Far Traveler. To my people, I am Guttermane. To the dwarves i'm 'that thieving, cheating thing.' but you may call me Wikvaya, for that is the name I have chosen to be best."

[Rhaxta]

Once the fire was suitably hot she placed three tall rocks about it with a view to placing a peice of slate on top so the fire just licked the bottom of the cool stone. While trying to balance the rock so it would sit flat, unexectedly, she got a reply from the cat. Well, not it was obvious it was no cat. She jerked involunarily, her wrist catching on the razor edge of the sliver of slate and making the smallest red slit just under her palm.

Suprise radiated through Rhaxta as the now most definately alien presence responded...in a most usual way. After a few seconds she regained her composure and gently smiled at the creature.
''Greetings, Wikvaya. My calling is Rhaxta. I must say, I am suprised at your response - being in a full language for one thing. I mean to cause no offense, for I am only ignorant. You are no normal feline, are you?'' she said, tilting her head and observing the cat, avoiding giving intense eye contact through habit more than anything. Normal cats grew offended if you kept direct eye contact for too long. She had no idea how to behave.

(I will tidy this up later, mother decided to come round and annoy me )

[Wikvaya]

Wikvaya watched at her as she worked, scantily clad as she was, tail flicking with mild interest. He let out a curious purr at her work and approached her, feet padding against the ground with miniscule thunks. Then she cut herself. He frowned... just about as well as a cat can frown. His tail sneaks around (completely on its own, of course) and slides across the wound, bringing itself (again, totally involuntary) to his nose. He sniffed it idly, then nodded.

And then she replied to him.

Scantily clad and a firm grasp of the obvious. Usually you have to pay extra for that. He did give her credit for being polite, though. At least she asked whether he was a werecat or not. Everyone else just automatically assumed that he was and then demanded recognition for their glorious conquest of logic and reasoning. He usually gave them a slap to the face... with claws.

Nevertheless, he answered equally as politely... if you're adhering his sense of manners.

"You're a polite one. That's good. You'll live longer. Or get stepped on all your life. Yes, though. I am a werecat. In a sense, that makes me not a cat at all. Or does it make me half a cat? I'll leave you to decide."

[Rhaxta]

'Werecat? Huh.'

Nothing seemed to suprise Rhax anymore.

Rhaxta gave a slightly wolfish grin at the creatures words. ''I've lived this long by being polite to the right people. You can, however, find the wrong ones under my boot.'' she mused, flicking a bit of water onto the slab of rock over the fire. It hissed and spat away in seconds. Rhaxta quickly threw on a thin, grey cotton shirt and pulled on her leather patched and very worn trousers. She glanced around the clearing, apparently having lost something, then seemed to twitch and leapt up to one of the over-hanging branches. Pulling herself up easily, she reached out and grabbed three small eggs from the lowest nest. She threw them down onto the fur cover she had piled up just for this, thankfully they all stayed intact. Jumping down gracefully after, she shrugged.''They are baught from the market, this just stops the long-tails getting them in the night. Would you care for some? she asked, cracking them roughly onto the sizzling sliver of slate. '' I have certainly heard of tales of werewolves, however, never of werecats before. I think I prefer your way about it though, all that hair and howling - urgh. You'd have a bad throat - and probably breath- the next day.'' Absently, memories of old childhood tales came back to her, having spent years in dormancy. Pushing away the thought she broke up the eggs and mixed them around a little, nearly cooked.
She observed the werecat once again, his patterns were very handsome, and unusual for a moggy. She had just presumed he was some form of wild cat when she first saw him- his camoflauge worked in two parts.

''So, Wikvaya. may I ask where you hail from? I am from a forest only a little north from here, originally, a little east of lake Tudosten. Been there and back again god knows where and what ways over Algaesia. Certainly never travelling by magic again thats for sure. Rhaxta said, only half paying attention to what she was actually saying. It had been so long she had actually had a conversation with someone - in a companionable way anyway. She flushed slightly for over talking, and tore a chunk out of the stale bread with her teeth and began to chew slowly, starting to dole out her own eggs and another pile for Wikvaya if he should say he wanted some.

[Wikvaya]

Wikvaya, in contrast, was pleasantly surprised.

This one had more spunk than he had first given her credit for. People rarely had the kind of spunk that entertained him, however. Most of everyone's spunk could be attributed to the exact amount of alcohol they had consumed within the past three hours. Of course, inebriation wasn't the only cause of spunk. Sometimes spunk came naturally to people. Sometimes people had to have a certain item on their person to have their spunk. And then there were the people that just weren't spunky. Those were the people that you had to avoid in a crowd, lest you catch their lack of spunk. Speaking of spunk, she very spunkly leaped up and got some spunky eggs to eat. Wikvaya was alright with eggs. At least he took comfort in the notion that he was eliminating bird offspring. Birds were evil.

"I'm glad i'm one of the right people, then. If I were the wrong kind we'd probably end up at each others throats in glorious combat. Though combat isn't very glorious." He surveyed the eggs over. "Would have been better had you stolen them from those god awful birds themselves. But yeah, I could go for a bite."

He then blinked at her. "Your scantily clad appearance suited you better," he commented idly, chuckling to himself. It was true. That clothing was dirty and hardly flattering. Truthfully, it would've been better to just stay partially nude. It's not like Wikvaya cared, unless it was a matter of style. But even nudity was more stylish than what she currently wore.

As to her question... "Oh, I hail from around," he said simply. Again he trotted up to her and this time stretched out in front of her, arching his back high before bringing it back to its original position, a typical catlike stretch. "The road is my most current mistress, however. What a lovely one she can be. Perhaps you might top her, we'll wait and see."

A rhyme flirt? Nice.

[Rhaxta]

[SO much spunk..><; ahahaha- sorry.]

Rhaxta placed another peice of slate before Wikvaya that carried his share of the eggs. ''Indeed - but I already ate all the eggs in the trees surrounding here...and a great deal of the parents. I have been here a while. I am sorry you missed out on the meat.-'' Rhaxta said, tearing another chunk out of the pretty stale bread '' - it would have gone very bad by now, however.

Rhaxta raised an eyebrow and flushed slightly - more in suprise than anything.
''Thanks, I suppose. However I am lacking a lovely brown coat of fur to keep me warm, so needs must.'' She grimaced down at her patched leather trousers.''However you do have a very fine point. I shall have to rectify that tomorrow. She devoured a good amount of her own eggs in a matter of mouthfuls - using the last of the bread as an improvised scoop. The bread needed a bit more moisture to just about tip it over the edge into edilble. Putting down the peice of slate, she pulled a small leather pouch from a small pocket in her pack, pulling a few stringy bits of tabacco and some rice papers with it. She had developed a taste for the stuff, another habit she had picked up from a small troop of travelling people she had met some months back. Tucking some tabacco into the paper and rolling it back on itself, she licked the edge and stuck it down. She held the very tip into the edges of the fire before bringing it to her lips and inhaling, exentuating the mint-aniseed smell that had erupted from the tip.
Rhaxta observed the cat like creature for a few moments as he stretched, then without thinking reached out and gave a very slight scratch along the side of his neck around the backs of his ears. She removed her hand after a moment, as force of habit had got her before she even thought about it. At his words she gave a small giggle, more a tickling purr from the back of her throat. ''She certainly is a wiley one, I will give you that. Yet I still think you may have better luck with her than myself, even though I haven't encountered any black cats of late - no offense. Myself, I am off south towards the Beor Mountains in a few days - once I have repaired the rest of what I can and see if I can get away with some more stocks of food from town. Have you any plans?

[Wikvaya]

Ah, sweet, sweet victory. Victory over birds, that is. Just looking at the delectable bird innards made his stomach grumble. He let out a hungry yowl in reaction and began to praise this Rhaxta girl immensely. So much so, he began to nudge his head against her dirty, disgusting attire, purring immensely. Gently, he bent over his portion and began to nibble at the sides of it. It tasted... rather plain, but this was to be expected. After all, nobody eats like a king on the road. In fact, a king doesn't even eat like a king on the road. There always has to be some sacrifice when traveling on the road. It's why Wikvaya liked to be donned so richly while he walked. Everyone got so jealous. Most of them thought he was some sort of desert prince. They either bowed so low to him that their noses touched the dirt... or they tried to enslave him. Needless to say, such attempts were dealt with harshly. Truthfully, Wikvaya almost enjoyed when they tried. He needed a good scuffle now and again to keep his fighting skills sharpened.

"Drat and damnation. I would've enjoyed pouncing on them and getting revenge. Of all the races in Alagaesia, birds are the worst. They take your jewelry and they take your food, and then they crap on you when your back is turned." He hissed at the very thought. Oh yes, Wikvaya had had some times with birds. Some bad times.

Nevertheless, he ate. And he ate rather slowly. Cats don't eat quickly, after all. That's why the term is 'wolf it down' and not 'panther it down'. And then he was finished. And you know what he did then? He leaped into her lap and curled up quite snugly there. "There. Now you have a lovely brown coat of fur to keep you warm." If ever a cat could grin mischievously at someone, he was doing that right now. He looked up at her, devilish look in his eyes, and he winked at her before burrowing against her again.

And then she scratched him behind the ears. Argh! How did everyone know that was his weak spot? Involuntarily, he let out a purr of massive duration, the ear being scratched twitching in delight. He began to stretch, also involuntary. Wikvaya both hated and loved being scratched behind the ears. On the one hand, it felt awesome. On the other hand, people usually got to ask anything of him when they were doing it. He pretty much lacked a free will whenever someone was doing it, which irritated him greatly. But then, it did feel really good.

"Oh, I doubt that. The way you, oooo, that's the spot; The way you work behind the ears is extraordinary. I'm surprised more cats haven't begged you for the same treatment. I certainly wouldn't mind sticking around and seducing you, not that it's even possible. Don't know you that well, of course. As for plans, i'm, ahhhh, right there; I'm headed out to wherever I go." It was hard being mysterious when he was being scratched. Good thing she took her hand away after. "I like to keep my options open. Especially since there's an adventure to be had everywhere. Adventures to be had, women to be loved (and lost), and legends to be created. You know how these things go."

[Arwen of Gil'ead]

Thunk. Thunk. A wooden staff moved through the air lazily as it landed against the bark of a nearby tree. A short hooded figure sat underneath the shade of tree, lazily tapping her staff against the tree. Thunk. Thunk. She sighed and laid the staff on her lap as she pulled off her hood revealing the massive wild red hair. the magician Arwen of Gil'ead, or better known as the Red Lady or The Blue Mage, revealed herself in Surda. She ran her fingers through her hair, this little lady was ready for an adventure. So ready. She could feel the energy drying out like an old man in a hot room. She needed some excitement to fuel her blood.

She had only arrived on the road to Cithri a few days ago and boy were her feet tired! This was the closest she's been to civilzation since her last stop in Uru' baen. Yes, she had walked all that way. By herself. She was already raging about having too leave the big city in the first place. She unfortunately had to flee...again. Good Ol' Gorlon can't just let me be., the sassy magician thought as she let out a long sigh. Sometimes being powerful wasn't a walk in the park, not by a long shot. Everyone wanted something from her. She even heard whispering of the King himself wanting to meet her. Well that wasn't gonna happen anytime soon, sorry Galby.

Arwen placed the butt of her staff in the soft ground and hoisted herself up. She brushed herself off, adjusted her boots and began her walk again. She got back on the road, it was relatively empty at this time a day. Not that it mattered to Arwen, she didn't really care. She was out of the Empire now and was free. No one would dare go after her now. Right now all she carried about was a bed, a bath, some food, and a few mugs of mead. She knew that as soon as Cithri came into site she could relax.

Well...strike that.

As she saw the city in the distance, a young man probably five years older than her and good foot and half taller than her stepped in her way.

"Whoa there, beautiful, where are you going?, the stranger asked with a mischevious smile.

"I'm going to the city, where else," Arwen said with a raised eyebrow. Gods, was he stupid?

"Well didn't you know there's a toll to use this road?"

Arwen rolled her eyes and looked past the guy to see a group of goons standing of to the side laughing. They all were armed and bigger than her. And so was the ding bat standing in front of her. She couldn't help but smile at the memories of her and her brothers pulling a similar trick outside of Gil'ead when they were young. Oh the memories.

The young magician observed the stranger calmly, she could already sense that this guy was of weak mind. She could break him faster than an ox pulling a boulder. Armed or not, she could rip him anew one. But Arwen was no fighter, but by the gods, she had a lot of tricks up her sleeve.

"Really?" she said sarcastically. She shook her head and leaned against her staff, "Now please step aside and I'll let you keep your dignity in front of your friends."

The man laughed and placed his hand on his sword. "Yeah? Well make me, shortie, I could have you on your knees in a second."

All the men laughed, and the Red Lady rolled her eyes for the second time. You know when Arwen rolls her eyes for the second time, your as good as dead. Arwen pointed the sapphire crystal at the man in front of her and said sternly, "Thrysta."

The man flew into a nearby tree with a loud thud and crack. He laid on the ground moaning in pain. All the other goons stared at the little pretty red head in shock. She lifted her staff and pointed at them and shouted, "Scram, you toad-lickers and go hide under that rock you came from!"

"A witch a witch!!" they shouted.

"I'm not a witch!" Arwen fumed, her knuckles white. She hated being called a witch. She was too pretty to be a witch.

The men ran off faster than a rabbit from a wolf into the forest, leaving their leader on the ground moaning and babbling about her being witch. Arwen was no witch! She adjusted her dress and walked up to the man, hitting him in ribs with her staff, searching for a coin purse. Well, he's a bandit, she had the right to take his money.

There was no purse.

"D***n it!" she cursed, she could've really used the money.

She heard the men running and shouting down into the forest, a sly smile appeared on her face. She had a devious plan.

"Oh boys!" she called to them as she ran after them. She was gonna find that money no matter what it took. After all...she was broke anyways.

Dead broke.

[Rhaxta]

Rhaxta grinned and gave Wik a very gentle squeeze. ''Oh, lovely. All I need is a fish knife and I'm a few strokes away from having the loveliest pair of winter boots,'' she jibed, a wolfish grin playing about her lips for a moment, before she chuckled. ''Relax, it suits you much better. I used to have many cats..at home. That was a long time ago though, still good to know I retained some of my softer talents.''

A peal of laughter tore from the womans lips, a great deal more jovial and innocent than any noise she had made of late. It was so clear and radiant, even because of what she was laughing about - it couldn't be seen as mocking laughter.
''That's a true enough point, you don't know me incredibly well so far. However, I think there are more things getting between..that..than our closeness,'' Rhaxta said, giving Wikvaya a slightly skeptical, yet harmless look. Rhaxta gestured to her form, then back to Wikvaya, an eyebrow raised.
It was uncertain whether Rhaxta had always been unaware that Werecats had two physical forms, or it had slipped her mind.

Rhaxta perked up, and focused her forest green eyes intently towards muffled noises coming from the edges of the woodland. She was about to pass it by for a boar or wild pig grovelling in the undergrowth, when a loud fizzing and pure white light flared somewhere in the distance. eventually peetering out to a rather loud bang.

Rhax grimaced; she hadn't intended it to be so loud. Hopefully what ever had wandered through her magical ward was large enough to feed herself - and now WIkvaya - until the other creatures dared to come back, if ever. Gently rolling forward, Rhaxta extracted herself from under Wikvaya - as it is impossible to move a comfortable cat- and retraced her steps to where to placed the trap.
There were plenty of magical warning signs around it, so she could find it and other magic users wouldn't get themselves fried.

Apparently, it didn't work on plain old humans. Rhaxta grimaced down at the nondescript ( except for crispy, maybe) form that had evidently been running, as he was a good six feet away from the trigger point, and the ground beneath him was gouged and scuffed by him having to use his face to slow down. Couldn't even really tell if it was a he, as the skin was slightly blackened. She grimaced, that was only meant to save her time in removing fur and feather from her game. the white flare of magical flame eradicating it on contact. Stretching her mind forward - yes definately dead - she didn't have to feel so guilty for frying him. At least it was instant death.
Rhaxta's sensitive ears twitched, and she pulled back her wild red hair to expose her ears. She heard more forms, farther away now, yet another was approaching, she could see the slightest ripples and changes in the dark as a sillouetted figure approached,
Not wanting to startle anyone, Rhaxta straightened and, turning towards the noise, she called out ''Does this belong to you? I'm awful sorry, seems I mistook him for a pig.''

[Arwen of Gil'ead]

The woods, Arwen was tired of these woods. Those guys really can run, she thought with a sigh. She was already so foot sore and had no desire to have the chase of a lifetime. She had short legs compared to the guy's long ones. It wasn't a fair chase. But Arwen did not let that detour her. She would find this man with a the coin purse and take it and probably scare the living daylight out of him. Because apparently she was a witch. That was a sure fire way to get on Arwen's bad side. She was a magician not some bloody herb wielding witch. Did she even look like a witch? Come on, she was way to pretty for that.

Something peculiar crossed Blue Mage's mind, she sensed that there where magical wards somewhere around her. She narrowed her eyes, the last time she had to deal with a magic user ended poorly. In fact it was that very encounter that left her the very dislike of half-breeds. She found them to be way to pompous for their own good. Or at least the one she had a wizard's duel with was. The toad-licker almost got recaptured! And being caught was something Arwen absolutely wanted nothing to do with.

There was a flash of light, and bang that made her instinctively raise her staff for a fight. I guess one of the boys found the ward before I even did. Arwen hated walking into wards, it usually wasn't a fun experience. Strike that, it never was a fun experience. But now she was sure that their was a fellow magic user in the woods. She debated whether not slyly looking at the minds in the forest, but that was also a very sure fire way to make enemies. And Arwen wasn't in the mood to make an enemies today.

The Red Lady followed the sound until she smelt a fire, eggs, cat ( a weird smelling cat at that), human, and a small hint of elf. She was pretty sure she found the right spot. She heard the sounds of the other men escaping another way. She decided to bestow mercy and allowed them to go free. Just for today. She heard a female voice call out to her asking if the guy belonged to her.
"If he was a big coin purse, yes. If not, pretend he is pig, and continue on with what you are doing," Arwen shouted back as she continued to approach the new campsite. She was ever so curious now, and she was secretly hoping that he had the coin purse. She would be just giddy!

The small magician smelt burnt skin now and death. Well, another one bits the dust she thought with a cringe. She stopped approaching when she was a few feet from the barrier. She wasn't going go any closer, not when that was going to happen to her. No way.

"I can assure you though I am not a pig, not physically at least. May I pass?"

[Wikvaya]

Wikvaya himself couldn't help but let out a purr. However, then she jibed about his fur, to which he hissed a little. Good thing it wasn't an irritated hiss. More of a hiss that was meant to warn her that she would be met with retribution if she tried. "You could try. You'd fail, but you could try." He resumed snuggling into her lap. That's just what you did when you were curled up on a lap. And this lap was rather snuggleable. "You are very skilled in what you do, yes," This was true. And good.

And she laughed. That was good too. It meant she enjoyed his company, and that was his desired goal. It would keep him from being chucked off her lap, after all. And that was okay with him. It was a good laugh, as well. Not the annoying kind that make you want to throttle the amused one. Wasn't to shabby on the trilling, too, though it wasn't overdone so as to produce the aforementioned annoying-as-hell laugh. Wikvaya wished he could laugh that well. His laughs were far too mocking.

But the skepticality would have to go. He hopped off of her lap and rolled his shoulders as his form began to blur. Soon he was a lean, muscled (and of course shirtless) man, cracking his neck and standing up proper, as he was kneeling down. "Did that allay your fears?" He finally said, not using his mind, but his voice, and smiling mischievously. His voice was rather exotic. He sounded like a pure blooded Spaniard, if such things existed.

But then there were noises. Wikvaya's ears pricked. He followed her, trotting behind her lazily, before coming upon the now charred corpse of a man. "Ew," Wikvaya said rather bluntly. Then his nose caught scent of something ELSE spunky. Did he really have the fortune of meeting two with spunk in one day? He didn't regret coming out here, that's for sure.

He turned, and sure enough, more spunk for Wikvaya. His smile was amused, to say the least. But he refrained from speaking as Rhaxta had already begun. He merely lingered behind her, tilting his head at their banter.

[Rhaxta]

''Its perculiar that your human accent sounds different to the words spoken through the connection,'' she said, slightly more coloured in the cheeks than she was before, even with the fire and her usually pale-pink-rosy complexion.
'Is that all you can say?!' jibed the voice in her head. She'd been on her own for far too long; evidently.
''Very nice though, both of them. Goes to suit your multiple names.''

But then she was up, investigating the source of the noise.

Eventually, the silhouette in the trees manifested itself as a small woman; which was unusal as Rhax herself had a rather short stature. She turned and looked back at the now-cooling body. ''I think if its the actual purse you're looking for, you are done for. However, if it was the contents, they will still be around. Albeit a little warm still. You may pass if you want, yet I do have a fire a little way back, it is getting late after all. Unless this one had some friends you're eager to find, of course.'' Rhax said. Two people in one day? She was getting popular. She currently had no interest in sides, in fact she never really did. People were people, and company was nice.
Rhaxta grimaced inwardly. She'd have to find Arkantos soon - she was going strange.


(Poop, sorry. Might get a chance to add more later x])

[Arwen of Gil'ead]

Arwen smiled happily at the thought of the coin, perhaps she would make some money after all. And the little magician did really like to make money. Especially if it was made with very little effort on her part.

"Oh, trust me, I have no desire to find the others. They're just some no good con-man," the Red Lady said, as she approached the campsite. It was an ironic statement because she was at one point a con-man herself.

She saw the source of the female voice. The strange girl had red hair like Arwen and was somewhat short as well. But, of course, she was not as short as her. The Blue Mage was border line dwarf status. But she believed it was her big personality that made up for her short status.

"A fire sounds quite lovely, if you don't mind me joining. I've been walking around for weeks."

It was true, Arwen had been walking for a very long time. She was rather proud of the fact that she had not had too many hitches...well...sort of...well...she actually had a lot of trouble. Bad luck seemed to follow the little magician everywhere she went.

Arwen also saw a young lanky tan man, tall of course. Of course everyone is taller than me, she thought to herself bitterly. He also had strange blue hair, Arwen found that fascinating. She loved the color blue, she is the Blue Mage after all.

The two strangers smelt...strange and it was obvious that they weren't fully human. Arwen had a great sense about these things. She wasn't quite sure about the man but the girl smelt like elf. The blue mage knew the smell of a half-breed when she smelt one. And she wasn't the biggest fan of half-breeds. She decided to let this one of the hook. Arwen had smelt an elf or two in her time, she grew up next door to their forest home.

The Blue Mage approached the charred remains of the man, She poked at them with her staff, searching for the coins. Of course, she found none.
"Drat," she muttered underneath their breath.

"Well," she said out loud, "No such luck for me."

The Red Lady bowed to the pair and as she stood up offered her hand to shake.

"Allow me to introduce myself, I'm Arwen of Gil'ead."

The little magician felt that now that she had left the Empire, she could reveal herself in safety. Arwen was no friend of the Empire and no friend of The Varden either. To be honest, she had made her fair share of enemies in both sides. Her personality had a tendency to cause problems.

"Thank you for your hospitality. It's not all that often you run into a couple of magic folks in the forest."

[Wikvaya]

"Not peculiar at all, but I do thank you for the flattering compliment." Wikvaya mock blushed to compliment her actual blush. Wikvaya didn't know how or why his voice changed. Wait, that was a lie, he did. Or he didn't. It was either he felt like making his mind sound a certain way or his voice changed with his forms. Truthfully, Wikvaya was inclined to believe the former. He was a fickle one, he was, even to himself. Wouldn't be out of the ordinary for him to succumb to a desire without even realizing. He often did such, and later found himself in an alleyway furiously imbibing in catnip.

But that was a story for another time...

He replied. "Oh now you're just overdoing it, Sweetie. Buy me a drink first." He enjoyed taunting her. It was in a friendly way, though. No need to be insulting. Especially since insulting a nice young lady like Rhaxta was just wrong. Wronger than wrong. It would have achieved a new level of wrongness that was unheard of on Alagaesia.

But then Rhaxta was distracted by that new spunky woman thing. Wikvaya looked at the charred corpse. Ick. It looked bad. He then sniffed. Ick. It smelled bad. He bent over and poked it. Ick. It felt bad. But then he saw something that looked suspiciously like a coin purse. Well, noone else needed it. He silently swiped the pouch and tucked it into a pocket before standing erect again. No one saw that. Nope. Not a one.

But then Wikvaya's ears perked. "Con men, you say?" He chimed in from behind Ol' Rhax. "Did they look like they were successful con-men? Were they big buffoons or thin, hook nosed bureaucrat types?" Wikvaya knew his way around con-men. The big ones were always the stupid ones. These ones could be easily tricked. So easily. You could literally take their coin purses from them while they're looking at you as long as you said you were just holding it. The hook-nosers were different. Quite different. Different in that they had intelligence and it required careful thinking to cheat them. Pride was usually their downfall. Wikvaya had met a lot of these types, and all of them were such and such's privileged son who was cut off from the teat he had been suckling on. They were prideful, spoiled little buggers, and this could be exploited. Wikvaya always came out on top with con-men. He was the greatest con-man ever to exist on this earth. And he was proud of it.

And then the woman of spunk revealed herself. She was alright. Kind of short, but she smelled A-Ok. Evil people had a smell about them that Werecats could pick up on. It smelled like lemons, most of the time. Wikvaya didn't know why. But that's how he picked up on the evildoers.

"You're free to join us, of course," he chimed in. "So rare to see a con-man-victim be a mage. Especially since con-men are cowards to the last." This was true. Just hiss at them and they crapped their drawers. And then you could take their money anyways. Too easy.

And speaking of money, she was searching for some herself, this new girl. She was, in other words, picking at bones Wikvaya had already picked clean. Wikvaya smirked at this, and dug out the coin pouch he had been given so generously by that fine charred gentleman on the ground. "Looking for something?" He asked slyly.

He turned to Rhaxta. "Rhax, Dear. I like this one. We're letting her stay, aren't we?" Turns out, they were. Or they were letting her pass through. Wikvaya would charm her into staying, though. Somehow. This girl might be the one to see through his tricks, though.

"Hey there, Arwen of Gilead. I'm Wikvaya of Somewhere. This is Rhaxta of Beautiful People Land." Had to throw in a compliment there.

"Let it be known," he proceeded. "That I don't know a spell of magic, however." He shrugged.

He didn't really need magic to get things done. He was already filthy rich from stealing things the normal way, and had to hoard his riches obsessively. He could remain unseen without magic, charm people without magic. Magic was, to him, unnecessary. Though, he conceded, it did manage to make pretty lights sometimes. Pretty, chaseable lights.

But he digressed...

[Rhaxta]

Rhaxta grinned at the werecats antics - both his subtle flirtations and compliments to her, and his mischievous procurement of the pork-scratchin'-mans coin purse. Rhaxta simply shrugged, saying ''Greetings, Arwen. It is a pleasure to meet you. I certainly didn't expect to meet anyone, I haven't seen a scrap of intelligent life in these forests for the ..weeks..'' Rhaxta paused, a thoughtful expression clouding her eyes and making her pout slightly.''.... a month, rather. Now this''

''Now that, Wikvaya is a marvelous idea. A drink. Now I have heard tell of the werecats and their odd advice and occasional predictions, I am not about to bring poor luck upon myself by ignoring it now, despite my skepticism at first.'' Rhaxta stepped back and leaned forward, twisting into a graceful pose, indicating with her arms to her left side. ''If you will follow me, I have a suitably large leather-bladder of only-slightly-watered-down port, and a lovely little bottle of mead I...aquired not all that long ago, in fact.'' A flash of humor set her forest green eyes aglow; she had accidentally scared some dwarves that were on the road. Why they were traveling West she had no idea, and had intended to ask them.
Until they had seen her. They had heard tales of Durza - it seemed. For when their torches fire caught upon her crimson-copper-gold spun locks as she sat cross-legged nearby her camp, spreading out her mind and slipping into a meditative state, they had retreated. She had guessed when they felt the presence of her mind brushing against theirs as it examined the life within the forest, and seeing the flame-red hair upon her head; they had immediately jumped to the worst conclusion and fled. It was only a group of four, which she had been glad of - otherwise they may have decided to attack, yet they had fled, leaving Rhaxta with a few bottles of dropped mead; amoung other things, and an unusual feeling. She guessed that was what dragons felt like, and thus now understood their big, toothy grins.

Twisting on a toe she strode off and melted into the surrounding forest, occasionally calling with her voice to make sure those with her didn't lose her. She doubted they would, considering their particular and obvious talents. Emerging into the warm glow of the fire in the center of the small clearing she had made home, a twist of a small smile upon her lips, she lightly stepped over to the...pile..of provisions and bags she had with her. She decided against moving her weapons to a closer position. She didn't want to make anyone within the party nervous, and they seemed unlikely to be disturbed tonight by others. Rhaxta's wards would warn her, besides.

She grabbed a - rather large pile, in fact - of deerskins, a handful of sandy-desert-dog and rabbit skins rolled up in the same manner beneath them. Tanned and clean, and practically still warm from the animals flesh. She needed something to occupy her over the last few weeks, and that was hunting. She couldn't eat everything she had hunted. She threw two rolled up deerskin rugs to the other side of the fire, for Arwen to sit upon if she would want to. She grabbed the sand-dog fur along with one of the deerskins for Wikvaya, and deposited it nearby the fire. She figured the werecat would enjoy using dog fuzz for a bed. As long as it was clean, anyway, which was fortunate.

Then making herself her own padded seat, with another roll of fur to support her back, she sat cross legged and sat, wineskin and a small leather bag in hand. She grabbed a leather cup and gestured loosely toward the stack - indicating for those that wanted to help themselves. She poured some of the warm, light wine and took a long drought. She knew she had been saving it for a reason- placing the leather skien upon the ground by the fire and other cups. In the other sack she grabbed a chunk of the rest of the deer- some dried meat and placed it forward as well. Gnawing upon the bit of meat with near animal vigor, the action exposing her slightly longer than normal canines. Swallowing the meat and going to take another drink of wine - she nearly dropped it. A low, thunderous rumble washed over the land, evidently a great noise like thunder or a beasts roar from a long distance away. Whatever it was, it sounded pretty big. None of her wards had gone off, however, and it sounded too far away to be of an incredible amount of concern.

Only then noticing she was looking into the night sky - completely clear night sky - that completely dashed her thoughts of it just being thunder. She smiled at the others when they arrived, not long behind her, though she had been swift on returning to the camp and unpacking things, no swifter than was normal in her opinion anyway.
''There we are. I am afraid I have little left in the way of food, after what Wikvaya porked anyway.'' she said, flashing a playful grin, showing she was completely harmless in her slight jibe.
''yet if you like dried meat, there is plenty''.

[Arwen of Gil'ead]

“Yes, Con-men,” Arwen said, addressing the blue-haired man, “The big, stupid, naive type though, more bandit really than con-man I suppose.”

The Blue Mage narrowed her eyes at the comment about her being a victim. Why did everyone assume she was a victim. At least the strange creature, acknowledged she was a mage, but still, did she look like a victim? Arwen knew that her height always made people think she was vulnerable, and though it made her a bad fighter, Arwen could cast the biggest of spells if she wanted and still live to tell the tale. If anyone was to be the victim it was the poor con-men that tried to con her. There was one laying dead at her feet, the other few were probably getting eaten by something, and the one she managed break a few ribs would probably have some trouble breathing. They were the victims not her.

“I was no victim. In fact, they thought I was a witch and they left me alone. Though I was throughly insulted and chased after them. A witch wouldn’t chase them, now would she? Witches aren’t known to be chasers,” the Blue mage said with a shrug.

The little magician looked at the feline looking man. He seemed shifty to her. And she knew a shifty man when she saw one. He was way to slick of the tongue to be somewhat respectable. Arwen would even admit to being a bit shifty herself, so she considered herself to be the best judge of shifty people. Now the girl he was traveling with wasn’t a shifty type, she seemed rather honest to her. Though Arwen did approve of honesty, she preferred her shifty types. She understood them a little bit more than the non-shifty types. The Blue Mage was born shifty, her family was shifty...her rather large poor shifty family. But she felt that it was necessary for her to inform the man her feeling s toward him.

“You’re very shifty,” she stated simply.

Of course, Arwen was right about the man being shifty when he pulled out that coin purse she was looking for. She laughed and grabbed the purse out his hand. It wasn’t a genuine laugh, because to be frank, Arwen did find having her prize stolen from her funny. No, not at all. It was one of those laughs that seemed almost forced, actually it was a rather guilty laugh. The Blue Mage would like to think she was above robbing a man who was burned to death on accident. But she wasn’t and frankly she didn’t care. The amount of money in that purse was going to get her a very nice place to stay in Surda while she set up her own conning mission.

“Ah yes, thank you. I was looking for that. Good to see that there are such trustworthy gentlemen in this forest,” she said, flashing her own winning smile, though she was being completely facetious.

As Wikvaya finished his introduction of both himself and Rhaxata, Arwen simply smiled another great winning simile of hers and replied, “Well, it’s very nice to meet you both. And I’m with you there Rhaxata, of the land of the pretty people; A place I have never heard of but regardless, I haven’t really seen any humanoid creature in months...I’ve been on the run. ”

“I wasn’t implying that you were a magic user, Wikvaya. It’s just obvious to me that both of you are not fully human. You don’t travel around as much as I do and not pick up a few things about reading people,” Arwen said with a wink.

It was true, The Blue Mage had learned a thing or two on her journeys as she she tried to escape capture from the Empire. She had run into all types of people, many of which she had strong opinions off. She wasn’t really a fan of half-breeds due to the fact that one had almost gotten her captured. Arwen held grudges like no other. That too, like her own shiftiness, was a trait she was just born with.

“But a drink sounds absolutely lovely! Anything will do, really. If it’s slightly alcoholic, I’ll drink it,” the Blue Mage said with a laugh as she headed toward the fire herself.

She noticed the deer skins and was quite happy to have something to rest her poor body on. Walking took a lot out of the magician, and she had been walking for a very long time. She sat down by the fire and immediately grabbed the wine skin, she of course took a cup and pour herself some wine. Normally, Arwen wouldn’t bother with a cup but she felt like being polite. Though, the young magician wasn’t polite by a long shot.

“I thank you for your hospitality, if I was religious at all, I’d tell them to bless you. But I don’t believe in religion so I’ll just bless you myself,” Arwen paused and gulped down the cup of wine, when she finished breathed, “Bless you, Child. Bless you. Bless you and your dried meat.”