Linnix takes one look upon the stricken form of Sheva upon the ground, before she nods.

"Take it out." Linnix says, her voice strong and authoritive.

Tessa hears and complies, returns to fulfilling her previously given objective: to attack the wolves. Tessa turns upon the Dire Wolf and attempts to kill it.

However, when Aelistae turns her own blade towards herself, Linnix gives a startled cry and runs at her.

"Wait, Aelistae! Hold on!" Linnix yells as she runs right into Aelistae from the side, trying to knock her blade away or to the ground.

"We have time." Linnix says, panting, "I'm sure there's some way we can spend it to try to cure ourselves, leaving your path of action as the last resort. We can't do any good for anyone if we don't at least try to survive to do so."

Linnix looks directly into Aelistae's eyes, her own drawn and defiant.

"We have to try." Linnix repeats.

"A half days ride to the north is a shrine and a monastery to both Deneir and Oghma. It has been there for many years, though I have not ventured there since the war has ended, busy has the rebuilding of Darromar been. Surely the priests and monks there would have the means to aid us, and if not the knowledge of how to cure this most dreadful ailment? Plus it’s in the right direction at least. What say you?”
Linnix smiles, "There's always an option, and I for one say we take it."

Aelistae’s blade quivered in her hand, its keen point hovering inches over her breast. The moonlit blade whispered its promise that it would end her life quickly, without pain or remorse. But she could not summon the will to close those last few inches, and allow it to steal her life away.

Her head echoed with the promise she had made Elesia, that their paths would cross again. Her mind’s eye was full of the desperate look Nash had given her when last they had met. And her heart pounded with the love she had for him.

So her sword fell from her numb fingers and clattered to the earth, even before Talus, Bart and then Linnix sought to intervene.

“There’s still hope,” Aelistae echoed quietly, repeating the phrase Bart had used. “I’m sorry, I…so much has happened, and we have lost so much, it’s easy to forget why we struggle on.”

The drow priestess raised her head, her jaw once more set with determination. “So we go on, and we seek out this temple. All of us will need their priestesses to cleanse us of the curse. There is no way to tell us who among us is afflicted. The creature who spoke was not the only zze-ill among them. Some of the other wolves were human or gnome or elf-kind once, or they would not have fled before the Lady’s Grace.”

Aelistae passed a weary hand over her eyes. “We need to burn the corpses of the zze-illrin and tend Sheva’s body. I would do it myself, but I do not know the human custom.”

“But there is also another option. A half days ride to the north is a shrine and a monastery to both Deneir and Oghma. It has been there for many years, though I have not ventured there since the war has ended, busy has the rebuilding of Darromar been. Surely the priests and monks there would have the means to aid us, and if not the knowledge of how to cure this most dreadful ailment? Plus it’s in the right direction at least. What say you?”
”A half day’s ride? Better, I think, than the full day of hard riding to return to Tethyr with no guarantee of aid. If anyone knows how best to alleviate our affliction it would be priests of Thoth… they’re a little farther away, I think, than what we can cover in a day, but Deneir and Oghma are almost as good.” A smile crept its way onto Talus’ face as he spoke. It had been years since he felt comfortable even mentioning his homeland, and now he was making jokes about it! Even though it had led to this perilous situation he considered falling in with this group to be the best thing that had ever happened to him.

“So we go on, and we seek out this temple. All of us will need their priestesses to cleanse us of the curse. There is no way to tell us who among us is afflicted. The creature who spoke was not the only zze-ill among them. Some of the other wolves were human or gnome or elf-kind once, or they would not have fled before the Lady’s Grace.”
Aelistae passed a weary hand over her eyes. “We need to burn the corpses of the zze-illrin and tend Sheva’s body. I would do it myself, but I do not know the human custom.”
”Funny thing about humans is that we have so many customs that even we can’t keep track of them all. If burning the bodies is something we should do to protect against spreading the disease, then we can burn the bodies. Oddly enough it seems that intent is paramount… as long as you have respect for the dead, the details of the ceremony aren’t all that important. We could make a pyre and cremate Sheva… send her ashes to whatever deity she followed.”

Talus turned his attention to the bodies of the wolves. ”Hard to have respect for these things though. You said these other wolves are lycanthropes as well? Maybe they have something of use hidden away same as their leader.” Once again the warlock attuned his vision to detect magical emanations and proceeded to check the wolves’ corpses for any possessions while dragging them all into a pile near the pack leader.

”We’ve all been ignoring the Terrasque in the corner.” Talus looked to Xaris as he heaved another wolf onto the pile. ”I’m going to need your help getting the two big ones over here. They look –really- heavy. And you look,” he paused, unsure of how exactly to finish. He remembered seeing some of his parents’ experiments where a subject’s personality changed wildly after being brought back from the dead. The wound he saw Xaris take surely would have killed him and there’s no denying that the gnome’s physical appearance had changed. Was that change merely superficial?

”…different.” He finally said at length. ”How do you feel? This may seem an odd question, but are you… still you?”

Pain was all that Xaris felt as the wolf tripped him, the sky above him quickly showing into his view. He landed on his back and the air was knocked out of him, but soon that was the least of his problems as the wolf happily lunged onto him, tearing his armour, clothing, and skin to pieces. Xaris merely kept his eyes to the skies as he watched in his periphreals blood and chunks of leather and skin flying around. His body jerked and bucked as the monster dug into him, but no matter what it did, it could not steal the life away from him. He glanced down onto his body, seeing deep red, now brighter than ever before since it rolled down on his snow white skin. He gritted his teeth, and thanked Baervan for the strength to hold on that much more, and that none of his friends had to endure the pain that he was put through. Surely this could of killed most of his friends, but Xaris held on, his purpose in this world not yet fulfilled.

He looked to his side, and seen his sword spilled out onto the ground, inches from his twitching fingers. He went to grab it when a beam of magical energy struck the wolf, then a flying creature came and tore it to shreds. The last thing he heard was the quiet sound of a bolt striking to wolf, its eye exploding above him and watching it collapse.

Xaris just laid there for a moment, waiting for the next thing to attack him. But nothing came, and the sounds of battle were waning, and the only moving near him was the twitching muscles of large wolf corpse by his feet.

He rolled over, blood that pooled in his chest cavity now flowing freely, and some blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. Surely only more attack would of punctured some vital organ, they were so close to exposure. Sitting up with his legs straight out, he could see the others infront of him starting to settle down and finally realize themselves that the battle for the lives had ended, and they have won. Eveyone seemed so healthy and so filled with life, he was glad none of them were hurt. His head slowly lulled around looking at them all, his blood stained white hair smeared acrossed his head. Blood rolled down his face, quickly rolling down the side of his mouth and dripping onto the ground. Below him a small pool was forming.

Right now he watched Aelistae strike down the last quivering wolf, and then an event unfold infront of him where she tried to kill herself, but everyone else intervened. He was going to say something, but his mind was slow in this state, extreme exhaustion taking hold along with these grevious wounds. He only caught bits and pieces of the conversation about disease and a temple half days travel. He didn't mind that me missed it, he just needed to rest and catch his breathe.

Soon healing came, and he watched as his wound on him evenutally healed up as spell after spell was cast on his small frame. Finally he was fully healed, all wounds internal and external healed but not forgotten. Still smeared in blood and with fresh scars, Xaris could only nod and smile a thank you as he fell backwards from his sitting position, his lips quenching for water and his mind begging for rest.

”Hard to have respect for these things though. You said these other wolves are lycanthropes as well? Maybe they have something of use hidden away same as their leader. We’ve all been ignoring the Terrasque in the corner. I’m going to need your help getting the two big ones over here. They look –really- heavy. And you look …different. How do you feel? This may seem an odd question, but are you… still you?”

Must have respect.... they were wolves once, creatures of the wood. Only looking, for good life...
That was the only comprehensable thought that went through his mind before he could form a sentance to answer Talus.

" I will try to help. But I cannot do much. My actions have drained me of all strength for now, and I need rest."

He stopped to cough and he sat up, wiping some caked blood on his face.

" Even though I am healed of wounds, the spells cannot give me what a good nights rest can."

He thought about how to answer the second part, and he told him, and the rest of the group if they listened about all he knew about what happened.

" And I feel fine. Nothing of me has changed except for my skin, hair, and... something. I feel like something else deep inside me but I cannot say what just now. But I think I know what happened."

He paused again as he caught his breathe, then spoke once more.

" The potion that I drank cost me almost all of my gold. The potion man said that it could have strange side effects if I use it, but he did not know what. This, must be what he was talking about."

Xaris looked over his body once more, thuroughly. His skin was the palest thing he has ever seen, and all his hair was now white as cotton fluff. Even his veins shown through him, like some albino cave fish with its organs the only pigment. But somehow he felt better and that this would only go to show that his vow and dedication is working. He smiled gently and stood up, slowly walking to the corpses.

" I may drap some, but not much else. And please, pay these poor beasts no disrespect. They were proper forest dwellers once, and should be treated like one. They are dead so no more violence should come to their corpses."

Aelistae slowly picked up her sword and wiped it reverently of the vile lycanthropic blood that stained it, even as Xaris revealed what had caused his sudden transformation.

“You’re lucky to still be alive. Meddling with the Weave is dangerous – even for those who have spent centuries studying it. I wish I could take you to Qilué but…she is far away and we are here.” The drow priestess sheathed her sword and shook her head, as if trying to dispel an unwelcome thought. “We should ask the people at this temple about what happened, they may be able to explain it.”

Talus began to drag the corpses of the wolves into a heap, and Aelistae moved to help him. It was an undignified task, but one she was happy to perform. The comments that Xaris made about the werewolves, however, caused her to cock her head quizzically.

“We cannot afford to show respect to these creatures. If they are any more in the area they will gladly feast upon the corpses of their own kind. And we burn it as a warning to those of evil heart who think to disturb the tranquil beauty of these places.”

“Do not feel sad Xaris,” she continued as she laid a hand upon the gnome’s shoulder. “This…pack, were devoted to the Dark Goddess Shar. And it was for Her that they were looking for a blood sacrifice. If we hadn’t killed them, they would have sought that blood elsewhere.”

Aelistae squeezed the gnome’s shoulder softly, before turning to finish the task she had set herself.

Xaris nodded at Aelistaes words. He understood where she came from, but he also still felt some remorse for the wolves and their life style choice.

" I know, these wolves do not deserve any sympathy, and I give them none. It is the wolf that they once were that I mourn. All of these wolves had normal lives, living in the woods and being a part of the great life. I only wish they did not choose this evil wolf to follow. The only sympathy I give him is that he was born the way he was."

Xaris felt the hand of Aelistaes on his shoulder, and smiled.

" But can you blame them? Just like us we gather together as a pack. We stay and protect eachother, and we all fight for and with eachother. I think of these wolves decisions like the one we made when we signed the paper. They were only looking for a leader and if they did not join death would of most likely came quicker then if they did join. They all only had the unlucky chance of meeting a pack that was stronger than them..."

Xaris looked down at his armour, its shredded remains still lingering on his chest. He knew they came close to losing, and it was only by a miracle that they lived.

He took the armour and slid it over his head, and then his shirt also, letting the clothing and armour fall to the ground. It served no purpose anymore, it was destroyed. The only thing that was on his snow white chest now were the two tatoos of half moons sticking out like sore thumbs on his chest, and the many scars that now have formed, formely the grevious wounds the wolf had given him.

He began to help move the dead wolves, and stack them. He might not of been able to do much but he tried to help anyways.

"Xaris, you should rest; you nearly over-exerted yourself today, so you should just let your body recuperate..." Linnix suggests.

"Here, I'll help." Linnix says, carefully aiding the others pile the wolves' bodies.

White... Linnix cannot believe she had forgotten that day.

She doesn't remember where it was, or really when it happened. All she remembers is what happened. It was just one moment, one word, one smile. Caera wasn't there. Why she wasn't, Linnix can't remember.

They drifted down gently, yet swiftly covering the land. The snowflakes flew about lazily, and Linnix would try to catch them on her tongue. Yet, with the gentle snow there was also the cold ice. Those opportunistic predators lying in wait...

It was a boy, Linnix didn't even know them, who slid. Down the hill, falling into a tree. His face, Linnix remembers it clearly, pale, as the snow that began to cover him, and contorted with pain. Tears were streaming from his eyes, to freeze upon the ground a few moments later. His leg was broken.

There wasn't any why to how she acted; she just did. Carefully following the boy down the slope, Linnix helped him up, and let him lean on her.

It took a while, longer than anticipated, but finally they both reached the top of the slope, back towards the boy's house. At the house, his mother rushed out to help. Yet, before she took him away, he said one word.

"Thanks."

Linnix had felt warm at this response, and in her mind's eye, she could see Caera smile.

A tear falls down Linnix's cheek. Perhaps... perhaps Caera's words weren't so beyond her ability... well, she'd just have to try.

Dark, drow fingers trailed over the crisp, black earth. The fires that had burnt over the bodies of Sheva and the werewolves had died, and all that remained were the ashes beneath Aelistae’s hand.

“Strange to think that I never really knew her,” she whispered into the cool night air. “Will anyone miss her now that she is gone or mourn her loss? Will anyone mourn Loriel or Kasenarrion?”

Aelistae shook her head sadly as she scooped a handful of the black earth into a small pouch and placed an acorn into the hole she had created. “I hope your soul finds some peace Arcsheva Redmane. And I hope in the years to come life will return to this glade, and a part of you will live on forever.”


[OOC: Aelistae is whispering in drow (for any that are interested).]

Death
The crackling of the fire, giving off light in the darkening night, is like small steps wandering through the woods, cracking twigs beneath their feet. The steps of souls, without bodies to hold them, as they wander to the god or goddess they will meet. Linnix stares at the fire, its light playing within her turquoise eyes. The stranger they had met, and just after one day, dies. How much was there that was unsaid? What could be done now, as she was dead?

Care for others, not just one's own plight. Linnix glances up, towards the starlit night. Sheva, a person who remains unknown, and seen only for a day. What of her connections to life? How will those stay? Parents, siblings, teachers and even foes. What will happen once one knows? A drop of water, no, there is more in a tear. Relief, or happiness, or the loss of something dear. Unknown, Sheva may be, but finally Linnix can feel and know. These tears she will shed, for the one that now cannot grow.

In the aftermath of the brutal war that was so desperately fought only for loss, the soft sounds of weeping and the occaisional sharp crack of fire were to be expected. Among the quiet lamentations for those lost, there steadily arose a sound that was quite out of place. The keen eared members of the elven persuasion and those who trained their hearing to amazing ability were the first to catch on to the tune, a ballad, voiced softly by a deep voice. Eventually the song could be heard by all as the source approached the campsite, until suddenly it cut off.

"What now? Is this the scent of char I detect in the air? Who would be burning what now? I hope not supper," the voice calls out from the direction of the road. Footsteps draw their owner to the campsite revealing a man wearing fairly baggy clothing, his dirty blond hair pulled back into a small, very curly ponytail. On his chin rests a small goatee (not the kind that goes all the way around the mouth, however) and at his side lay a hilt and rapier. Next to the rapier hilt there is a second, peculiar sheath for some other device. Upon his back, attached via a wide leather strap, hung a clue to the nature of this second sheath, a slipcase also of leather in the shape of and obviously containing a violin.

"My goodness, would you be the mounted group that passed me in such a rush this afternoon? The only company for the road all day I must say. Oh, is something wrong then?" This newcomer caught onto the atmospere of mourning and painful victory.

A voice interrupted the melancholic silence that had fallen over the glade, and it had Aelistae reaching for her sword. Yet her hold upon it eased as her violet eyes caught sight of the figure whose voice it was.

“You’re human?” she queried from under the veil of shadows the night cast over her. “If you mean no harm you’re welcome to join us by the fire and share a meal. But first drop your weapon. We’ve already been ambushed once this night, and lost one of our number because of it. We - I - have no intention of letting that happen again.”

Zorana and Silvara keep backpedaling, turning it into an all out run as the snake swarms continue to crawl over them and bite them for minute amounts of damage. (Silvara 35/38 Zorana 40/48hp ) They had managed to elude the swarms, tearing the few remaining serpents from their persons as they rounded the corner back before the mess hall. The snakes it seems were magically bound to prevent their leaving their designated area, and as one mass of scaled danger they slithered back around the corner and out of view, though their slithers can be heard even from where the women stand.

Silvara feels that presence again, brushing through her hair and across her cheek, while Zorana feels her clothing ruffle though there is no tangible breeze in this hallway. Further ahead on the right, the door creaks, and shifts open but an inch, and a cool waft of air passes the women in that direction.

Taking his cue from Aelistae's cautious stance, Talus closed his eyes and fell within himself, beginning a cascade of power and willing it to coalesce with his eyes.

The spell complete, he turned to assess this newcomer, and anyone watching closely enough would have sworn the white of his eyes had taken on a purple tint for a split second.

"There's a faint aura of... conjuration magics... emanating from his ring," he explained to Artanis and Aelistae what he was detecting on the traveler as he continued his probe, "And I'm not seeing anything else giving off signs of enchantment. If he does have anything magically dangerous it's packed away and out of easy reach. As long as we keep an eye on him, I don't see why he couldn't join us for now... although if we tell him of our new condition, I don't know how much he'll want to stay."

With a slight chuckle he addressed the new arrival, "You'll have to pardon our paranoia... as she said we were just attacked. Your ring there has some magic to it. Pray tell me, what function does it serve?"

Xaris layed on his back, the fire lapsing off of his small white form, making him seem like almost a ghost. He lay just out of the major glow, drifting in and out of sleep as the exhaustion still revages his body. He opened his eyes as a new voice and quick converstaion was strung up, and he slowly sat up looking to the blonde human newcomer. He just looked at him with his newly crystal blue eyes, his white form surely a one of a kind and an odd sight to this newcomer. He layed back down with his hands behind his head and eyes kept on the blonde man, with a look of content on his face. No malice or excitement, just a content look of satisfaction. For what only he knows.

“You’re human?” The queary of a soft-voiced woman arose from the shadows.

"I'm human as far as I yet know. From the what I can see by the glow of the moon, your stature marks yourself as and elf if I'm not mistaken."

“If you mean no harm you’re welcome to join us by the fire and share a meal. But first drop your weapon. We’ve already been ambushed once this night, and lost one of our number because of it. We - I - have no intention of letting that happen again.”
"Beshaba's brats, you do have reasonable call for concern. Very well, I will unstrap my rapier," the man returns. In the half-light of the campfire he saw a man watching him quite intently. The man whispered something to the elf, something just beyond the newcommer's perception.

With a slight chuckle he addressed the new arrival, "You'll have to pardon our paranoia... as she said we were just attacked. Your ring there has some magic to it. Pray tell me, what function does it serve?"
"This little guy? He keeps me going when food, drink, and sleep grow scarce as they are wont to do when travelling as much as I do. Harmless really, unless of course I lost it, in which case I would be pretty hungry." He held his sword by the sheath away from his body. "I'm coming in now, ready?" he asked almost jokingly. "The name's Dylan by the way, Dylan Geiling."