The Demon Lands

Avery and Morgan glanced between each other before Morgan took charge once again. "I am Morgan, she is Avery. She is bound to me, and I am bound to her." He glanced at Avery for a moment once again, and she shrugged at him. Good enough, she mouthed. "A camp is a good idea. Come, we have a cave away from the fire."

He stepped away, lightfooted, drawing up next to Avery. "Can we trust her?"

Avery nodded back. "Of course. You could offer to hold her blade for her. She doesn't look like she knows what she's doing with it, and there's no way she's used to the weight."

Morgan shook his head. "It'd appear offensive to ask for one's weapon. Surely we can trust her to hold onto it? It's not hugely important, and certainly she feels safer armed among strangers than disarmed."

Avery rolled her eyes, murmuring something under her breath as she turned away and started walking. "Come! We move now."

 

"Swordsman..." the word echoed. The voice was feminine, almost.

"...make it to Rusadur's castle...." the same voice spoke, chiming in his head.

Ceithan stirred a little. 'Get out of my head! I want to sleep ' a part of him whined.

However, he was bombarded with the same voice in his head, speaking in echoes again.

"..come and find me."

"...slay the lazy fool..."

Lazy fool? Lord Rusadur? Why was this the time for the vampire's whispers to do a replay session?

"...be enemies again."

"... don't let....know."

Don't let who know? Be enemies again?

It wasn't for long until his mind was overwhelmed by all the voices speaking simultaneously,

-

Ceithan's eyes shot open as he let out a small gasp. He saw that Ewart was already up and there was a pebble next to his side. Ewart must have done a test run to see if he was alive. Or asleep, rather.

Standing up, he flexed his wounded shoulder. It was not completely healed, hence he would require Rowena's assistance.

He noticed a pink haired lady. Who she was, he should not have to worry, for Ewart is conversing casually with her. Picking up his sword, he noticed the slain boar. Salivating greatly, he decided to hunt for firewood for the boar.

"Sweet deities almighty, salvation in the form of food!! " he cried joyfully to himself inside his hungry mind.
----

Rowena nodded as she followed them. Examining the blade, she thought of how worried Ewart would be. Nevertheless, she kept it to herself.

"My name is Rowena. " she spoke, as they made their way to wherever they were heading. She hoped that she would be able to reach Ewart afterwards to return the blade.

Noticing them conversing among themselves, she kept quiet. After all, it was rude to interrupt.

 

Vetria closely watched the vampire girl, now that she seemed to be showing signs of being not-dead. She rolled around a bit in her sleep, and mumbled something about blood every now and then, as far as he could tell. After all, she was a vampire.

"How did you get this way?" he wondered aloud. "A dwarf turned vampire... Or were you born this way?" He gazed up into the sky, noting the brightness of daytime. A few stray clouds drifted across the deep sea of blue, but other than that, all was still. He studied the canvas for some time before returning his gaze to earth, and drawing his dagger, Nightwing, to look it over.

"What do you think?" he asked, directing the question to none other than his knife. "Should I still do it? Do I want to?" He didn't know what he really wanted, but one thing was for sure, and that was that his arm hurt like hell.

Turning his head towards the dragoness, still unconscious, he made a face at her. Childish of him, but he did it anyway. He had intended to return to his thinking immediately after, but found himself staring at her as he began connecting points in his mind.

'What do you think?' he wondered. 'What would you do?' He then looked at the vampire. 'And you?' He stared at the pair, glancing back and forth between them. He resolved to ask of their opinion when the woke, given that they didn't lop his head off first.

A few things happened in the next second.

Firstly, the vampire awoke.
"Maybe if I want to make up the wrongs I've done to both sides, I should stop fighting altogether..."

Second, Vetria had frozen in his position, seemingly going unnoticed. Like usual.

Her head turned to the side, now facing the dragon girl. "...Although, demons aren't as forgiving as the others."

And finally, she had fallen unconscious once more.

Vetria blinked. "Hey, who was it that dragged you all the way out here?" he asked, shaking his head. "Jeez. I get no respect," he grumbled.

Sighing, he found himself staring to the skies once more, and once again asking himself a question quite prominent in his mind.

"Do I want to kill my father?"

 

"She is a quiet one," Morgan murmured after some time, glancing over his shoulder at the human woman behind them. "I thought you generalized them as a crude and loud race?"

Avery groaned. "Generalized, Morgan. She clearly at least has some proper education."

The duo lapsed into silence once again, nothing but the sound of footfalls on the forest floor to accompany them. Almost like magic, a sheer cliff face broke the forest in front of them, and with a nod, Morgan scrambled a quarter of the way up the side, into a large cave mouth. "Come! Up here!" he called after him as Avery joined him in the cave, looking out after herself to check for a potential tail.

"It was unwise of us to return directly here without checking for pursuit," she murmured and he made a flat, dismissive gesture in return. "I think not. We could not have lost them if they were an experienced tracker. Come, let us rest, and we can find the woman's camp later."

"...Also, she might need a hand getting up here." Morgan groaned and rolled his eyes, retreating from the cave to follow the older Allouettian's demand.

 

The words from his dream was still ringing in his ears that he flinched visibly when the pink haired woman tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey, I don't think we've met before. My name is Emilia."

Smiling, he turned towards her, a hand outstretched. "Name's Ceithan. "

He turned back to a log he was planning to cut. As soon as he started a heavy swing downwards, a sharp pain rose in his arm. "Argh! Stupid arm hasn't healed. "

Looking back at Emilia, he asked "Just wondering, Emilia. Where were you during the meeting? Didn't see you around."

She smiled back at him. "Felt like hanging back a little." Noticing his struggling, she remarked. "You're not going to be able to chop an inch with that blade. Let me help. " With that, she reached out for her axe and started chopping some logs.

Rubbing his arm, Ceithan managed a "Thanks. " as he looked for any wood that did not require cutting. He however, kept a watch of his surroundings in the hopes they would find a healer and not a threat.
----

She couldn't blame her saviours for choosing a cliff of all places. Then again, she was not the most flexible person in the world.

Looking up at the daunting cliff, she swallowed her resolve and tried to climb up.

She managed to heave herself up a foothold, when the hold her right hand was gripping on chose the moment to fall, causing her to yelp, dangling on one hand. Looking up at how long more, she almost groaned.

Reaching for another rock, she gritted her teeth. She was going to get up, although she was tired herself and there was a way to go.

 

Apate had nearly resigned herself to the idea of going to see what else her subconscious mind had created when she felt her foot twitch. She looked at it in confusion before she saw a patch of ice spreading out across her talons. The frost spread rapidly, covering her entire leg before she could react. By the time she could utter a yelp of pained surprise, she found herself laying awkwardly against a tree.

She jolted up, then curled over in pain as all of her aches decided to remind her of their existence at once. They were worsened by a sharp, cold pain that covered her entire body and made her breathing quicken. Shivering violently, she cupped her claws and blew a small burst of cerulean flames into them. The fire was weak, but it helped a bit.

She was disappointed to see how little her magical shadow had regenerated, but she could make due until it returned or she found a small creature she could siphon some life energy from. Hopefully, it was the second option. Enchanted shadows took forever to regenerate. For now though, she'd have to keep all her spells, even her fire, to a minimum.

She leaned back again, trying to stop her shivering as she surveyed her surroundings. She was still in the Drukels, so that was a good sign. Even better, Naomi was near her and she seemed to have gotten her wounds bandaged. While that was a relief, it also posed an excellent question; who helped them?

Looking around more closely, she saw the half-dragon that Naomi had been fighting earlier sitting near them. She tensed up to fight, before she realized that he didn't seem to be attacking. In fact, he seemed relaxed.

Is it possible... did he help us? Apate though, bewildered. Why would you help the beings you just attacked? She thought about trying to sneak away while he seemed distracted, but she wasn't in much shape to run and she probably wouldn't get far even if she left Naomi behind, which wasn't an option. Attacking him wasn't an option either, seeing as she was both wounded and out of magic. Ruthless, but not stupid.

He wasn't exactly in the best shape either, she noticed, and a brief moment of confusion swept over her when she saw that the wound her last attack had left hadn't been treated.

Is he crazy? She sighed. Shadow wounds are poisonous, why wouldn't you treat one? She thought about asking him about it, but stopped herself. If he would continue to be an enemy, then there was no point in informing him of an exploitable injury.

Instead she chose the standard approach to a conversation.

"Why the hell did you save my life?" She asked, trying not to growl through her chilling pain.

Toerga had made it to the Stronghold. Now, he just had to get inside.

That was the part that wasn't that well thought through.

He growled in frustration, watching the sun rise further in the sky. His eyes narrowed at the light, and he turned back to pacing lightly in the forest edge. He couldn't do much now, especially with the lack of the strength the moon gave him. Between the drain of the battle and the fact that he hadn't slept in a full day, he was in no way fit to be fighting any size of Resistance forces.

He thought for a moment, before a crazy idea struck him. With the moon out of the sky, it was possible that he could revert his form back to human. He had heard stories of wolves who had accomplished it, though most of the stories ended with night falling and their forms being again revealed. If he chose to do that, he'd have to be quick.

He couldn't see any other option, though. He'd have to try.

How would a wolf go about becoming human again though? He barely remembered his human years aside from a few healing chants that he couldn't use. What did he have to do to be "human" again? The only idea he had came from something that he heard a long time ago, back when he had just left his pack.

To become human again, you must be human.

It was incredibly unhelpful, but the secret had to be somewhere within those words. It had him stumped though; how could he be human if he wasn't? Well, if he wasn't mostly human.

The thought struck him as odd. He had to be at least partially human, he wasn't completely lupine after all. He most likely thought in a partially human way. He had even been a human for almost as long as he had been a werewolf.

He chuckled slightly, before watching the soldiers training just beyond the trees that hid him. Though they fought differently and for different reasons, they were alike with all sides of the war in their resolve to fight for what they knew. "Maybe we aren't so different." He mumbled thoughtfully.

He thought about what made him a werewolf, but found it was only his appearance. If he wished, he could be as human as any true human. In fact, what was to say he wasn't truly human? He was born human after all.

His thoughts clear, he spoke truthfully; "I am human."

Immediately, the world seemed to tilt, the weight on his back getting heavier and the light from above getting dimmer. He groaned as his stomach lurched, before falling to one knee and shutting his eyes tightly to try to stop the spinning sensation. Seconds later, the spinning stopped, leaving him panting on the forest floor. He tried to stand, but the weight on his back felt heavier than ever, and it threw him off balance. Instead, he fell gracelessly to one side, reaching out his hands to catch himself.

It took him a moment to take in the sight of his hands. They were pale and clawless, and very... human looking. He sat down, looking at his legs. His paws had receded into toes, and his legs looked strange and vulnerable under his ragged trousers. Most annoyingly, his senses were frighteningly dimmed. How can humans live like this? He thought, shaking his head. They're nearly defenseless.

Using the support of a tree, he stood up shakily. His legs didn't respond the way they used to, and his center of balance was completely different. After a few shaky steps with the tree as support, he stepped out to walk unsupported. Surprisingly, he remained standing, and found it easier to balance as he kept walking. Confident in his ability to move, he turned his eyes back towards the camp. It would be difficult to make it out of the treeline without being seen, but not impossible. The going would be far easier once he was in the camp.

"No sense burning daylight." He huffed, trying to ignore his now higher voice, and walked out into the encampment.

 

A head poked out of a cave, seemingly ages of climbing above the human woman. "Need help?" he called down, then without waiting for a response, he clambered down the rock face in her direction, using his wings to slightly adjust his pathing. "More handholds further to left. Easier," he smiled over at her. "And less slip." A couple pebbles slipped past his fingers as he climbed up the rock face a second time to show her the easier route. "Come!"

Inside the cave, Avery groaned and rubbed the heel of her hand into her forehead. "Hopeless boy", she sighed.

 

(Apparently my last post got deleted in the move, so sorry if it's not exactly the same)

"Why the hell did you save my life?" Vetria's eyes shot open, to meet those of a now awakened dragoness. The vampire still lay unconscious at her side. He sighed and shifted himself to a more comfortable position against the tree he was propped up on.

"You see this blade?" he asked, revealing Nightwing to her. He twirled it around with his good hand. "This weapon has ended a dragon's life. It used to be my father's." He paused for no other reason than for a dramatic effect. "He used it to kill my mother." Without realizing it, he began clenching harder on the dagger, to the point where his knuckles were turning white.

"It was a long time ago," he began. "Six or so years after my birth, I think. My magic still had not developed, and my father's patience was running out. He wanted, no, needed a powerful son, something he wasn't getting from me. He gave me a week to learn magic, and told me that if I did not, he would kill me." Vetria, without warning, stabbed the knife into the ground with as much force as he could muster. He saw his audience flinch out of the corner of his eye, but her expression was unreadable when he looked at her.

"Needless to say, I couldn't do it. Magic doesn't just happen out of the blue without any external influence; you probably already know that. I had no help, no motives, other than the fact that I would die, which didn't help, nothing. My father stalked up to me, raised his knife, this knife, and prepared to strike. I just sat there and closed my eyes, waiting for it to be over." Vetria had to stop to focus on enduring a fresh wave of pain from his still untreated injury. "I wasn't dead yet. When I opened my eyes, my mother was guarding me. She, of course, wouldn't stand for what he was doing. My father just stood there, unmoving. When he finally did make an action, it was to jam his dagger straight into her chest, piercing her heart, before she could react." He wiped a tear from his eye, which he hadn't even noticed had formed.

"When I saw her body hit the ground, something inside of me snapped. One earth-shattering scream later, as well as magic attacks of some sort, my father was gone, not dead though, and his knife was on the ground. After some time, I had calmed down, and took up the blade. Watching it glint in the sunlight that day, I vowed to kill its previous owner. I didn't bother to check my mother's body. I couldn't even look in her direction," he continued. He stared down at the ground, tears of both anger and sadness splashing down to the earth.

"That's why I didn't kill you," he finished, reaching out for Nightwing. His vision began to blur, and he saw black at the edges. Curling his fingers around its handle, he added, "I am not my father. I will not kill without reason like he did. And besides, you remind me so much of my mother that it's painful." He took a deep, shaky breath.

"This dagger is my inheritance. The last memory of my mother, an artifact passed from my father to me, and, eventually, the last thing he sees before he dies." At this point, Vetria was barely conscious. He looked up to make eye contact with the dragon girl.

"You kindly deposited your life in my hands. Now I'm going to do the same. So, what will you do?" he asked, before the world went black.

 

(I will put up a picture of Solaris as soon as possible. He is an NPC for now) http://lakevalor.net/forums/gallery/image/1554-the-demon-lands-heulwen-lineage/

Gritting her teeth, she noticed Morgan, who was kind to her by showing her the easier area to climb. Nodding her understanding and thanks, she proceeded the way up, albeit tiredly.

----

Back in the Resistance stronghold, Solaris Heulwen was looking for someone. He left no stone unturned as his amber robes billowed past every room, namely the sleeping area. A frown formed on his face.

He was looking for Rowena. His daughter. His sole heiress. His beloved jewel.

It was one thing to train her to be independent. It was another thing to kiss her goodnight and find her missing the next morning. Knowing that his daughter would faint at the idea of going on a mission, what made her make this resolve out of the blue? Sighing, he held the Heulwen's heirloom of a sceptre in hand, and looked around.

In the hall where the other resistance members were, Solaris conversed with them, and from a corner of his eye, noticed a rather plump man ambling around. He could vaguely spot some flickering, but he decided not to take any action until his suspicions were confirmed.

 

"Excuse me sir, but may I ask what or who you are looking for? I might be able to help in your search."

An almost demonic looking young man stood before Heulwen. His red and black eyes sparkled with curiosity, as he stood tall in his red and black striped shirt, red vest and black pants. A wooden cane with the symbol of the great fire bird was gripped firmly in his hand and held his weight as he leaned against the cane slightly. Pen Ravenwood smiled slightly at the older looking gentlemen, his cigarette(do we even have cigarette's in this world?) burning red as he took a puff. He let the smoke wisp past his lips as his smile, no matter how small, never vanished.

-------

Away from the stronghold of the Rebellion and deep inside Drukels Woodland, the majestic white horse stood and watched the battle below. The horse was quite surprised when she stumbled across the roaring battle. She had half expected a royal dragon to be hunting her down again, when she almost ran head first into the fight. The mare flicked her ears forward sharply and let out a snort when the flames erupted to life. Stomping her hooves on the ground and almost pacing on her rocky pedestal, the mare continued to snort even as she watched the battlers separate.

When she was sure the flames would not hurt her, the mare slide down from her high spot and down into the lower forest where the group had split into smaller groups. She clicked her hooves on the ground as she moved through the tree's. As the mare made her way through the thick forest, she stopped. Before her were three people. Two were out cold, while the third looked as if he might pass out himself. She waited. Waited for a sign that they knew she was there, but before she could do anything, the two woman had woken up and the man was now out cold. What made it worse for the mare, was that one of the woman was actually a dragon.

Great, the mare thought. Just when I was thinking I was in the clear with the dragons. She glared at the dragoness, wondering if she belonged to the group of dragons that were hunting her. She really didn't want to approuch them, but it seemed to her that the male needed her help. So, putting the past behind her, the mare stepped away from her hiding spot and into the light that leaked through the tree branches. To any normal, non-magical human or creature the mare looked like a normal snow white horse with a long scar along her left side, but to another magical creature or human, she took on her true form. When the light fit her pelt, her horn and wings almost sparkled in the light.

An Alicorn and one was great beauty as well. Her horn was small compared to a normal Unicorn's horn, only about a foot in length. While her white feathered wings were large. Very large in size, actually. A sixteen foot wingspan was almost unheard of for a Pegasus, but was quite normal for an Alicorn. The mare snorted, her eyes locked onto the dragoness and her companion, as she tentatively stepped closer to the fallen male. The mare lowered her head as she moved closer to the demon looking male. When it came to the war and picking sides, the mare was a neutral creature. She hated picking sides, but she hated seeing people hurt even more.

Her head hung above the male just a little less then a foot away when she dipped her head and touched her horn to the male's forehead. She may not b one of the greatest healers, but she was confident that she could at the very lease disinfect his wound. So when her horn touched the male, she concentrated on his wound and her magic slowly started to heal the wound. When her healing was done only a smaller, disinfected cut remained. Something she was sure the male could handle on his own.

The mare returned her cold dual colored gaze to the dragoness and her friend. They looked hurt, but she doubted that they would let her heal their wounds and, if she were being honest, she really didn't want to heal the dragoness. So she waited to see their reaction to her presence and her ability to somewhat heal.

(I hope this is okay. Just let me know if I need to change anything.)

 

"You're hopeless with women," Avery mumbled to Morgan as he clambered back into the cave in the cliffside. "Certainly you could put in a little more effort than that."

Morgan sighed quietly. "She would not appreciate if I hauled her up here," he grumbled. "Just look at the look in her eyes and you'll know." Yes, the girl (woman? she was probably older than him, actually) was determined to be independent. Avery took a long drink from the flask of water at her hip, picturing the look in the girl's eyes. They looked remarkably familiar--they looked like her eyes, when she looked in the water's reflection at night.

"Gristly work tonight," Morgan sighed. "When she gets up here, do you think you could keep an eye on her for a little while on your own? I think I need to find a stream and clean up."

"Don't be such a woman, Morgan. Cripes, you're worse than me."

((italics fixed sorry))

 

Apate sighed, before stretching out her arm to expose a softer, not scale covered section under her elbow. "Try not to break your teeth." She joked half heartedly, knowing how much Naomi hated demon blood. Dragon blood probably wasn't that much better.

She turned her head to glance at the now unconscious half-blood and nearly yelped when she came face to face with a unicorn. It looked at her with blatant distain, which made her snort in mirthless laughter. It was a look she was familiar with, to say the least.

A creature of light magic was worrying though, especially for a magic user like her who relied on darkness and illusion. She saw that it had healed the half-bloods wounds, but she couldn't tell what it was going to do next.

Narrowing her eyes back at the unicorn, she waited to see what it would do, extending her claws on her free hand just in case. Though in her state, after a long battle and with no food or true rest for about a day, she wasn't liking her chances.

Toerga was surprised at how easy it was to slip into the camp and become part of the crowd. Maybe they are so easy to fool because their senses are so dulled. Toerga speculated, before movement caught his eye. A rather important looking man was talking with a mildly strange looking man, but he seemed more focused on a balding, fat man who was a distance away across the camp.

His curiosity piqued, Toerga walked over to the more rotund man.

"Hello." He began, before he felt himself trip up slightly. Something was wrong with the man in front of him. He just couldn't put his finger on what it was yet.

Forcing a smile, Toerga clapped the man friendlily on the arm before beginning to lead him away from the line of sight of the important looking man and hopefully out of his suspicions. His hand seemed to sink a just bit too far into the man's shoulder, a nearly invisible but definite physical difference, and he smirked inwardly. This man was not what he appeared to be.

He didn't want to expose whoever he really was, though. That'd put the humans on a greater alert, and he'd never get any information out of them then. "Quite the day so far, eh?" He ventured. "Though I'm sure you know that."

He gave the man a truly wolfish grin. "I personally think that this day could've gone a bit better." He laughed, his tone tinged slightly with bitterness as he rubbed one of the partially healed wounds on his side. "Though I made a great find that I really can't complain about."

 

Ceithan and Emilia (which spelling is right? Amelia or Emilia?) were back with the firewood and began working on them.

"Any news about her?" Ceithan asked Ewart aloud. Realising he could have worded it better, he spoke again, "Rowena, I mean."

Emilia cocked an eyebrow and asked "Rowena Heulwen? The healer?"

Ceithan nodded, though there was more than one healer in the resistance that he knew. And that very healer was the one he dreaded to face the most at the moment. He continued at rubbing the wood to form a fire. It was slow but sure work, as Ceithan's shoulder was not in the best condition as of yet.

----

A few slips and lapses of exhaustion might have just made it sufficient for her to just drop, but she managed to scramble to the top, clearly exhausted. Sweat beads were all over her face and her limbs were trembling from fatigue. She had also made sure she did not lose Sunrise by using her cloak as its sheath and tied it around her waist. The half elf loved his weapons dearly and a missing piece would amount as much as a missing limb to him.

Upon catching her breath, she staggered to her feet and made her way through the cave opening only to meet Avery, who looked a little annoyed, if not tired. It appeared that Morgan was also away for now. She wanted nothing more than to sleep, but she noticed Avery had small cuts from the earlier scuffle as well.

"Avery....you're wounded. Let me help you with that at least." Slowly she moved over to her, but cautiously she did, for she wanted to be sure that Avery was comfortable with her intentions before she made her next move.

---

Solaris turned his head towards the strange looking man, garbed in red and black whilst holding a cane. "Ah, good day to you. Thank you for your concern, but it would be unlikely to find her, now that I have checked almost everywhere in the stronghold. " Even if the man he was speaking to was part of the resistance, he could not just simply give out his daughter's identity so easily! He barely knew this man, aside glances or quick waves. He noticed the intricately carved Phoenix on the cane, and smiled. "What craftsmanship. Surely the artisan possess the hands of that of a deity of crafts?"

For a moment, Solaris' eyes travelled to where he saw the pudgy figure, but he had gone. He had to remind himself to go investigate afterwards.

 

Elizabeth stands at the top of a watchtower at the Stronghold with her binoculars, watching out for any danger. The young lieutenant was appointed as the Duty Officer for the day and she, together with the guards that are appointed with her, are responsible for the security of the Stronghold for the day. She places her bow, Sagittarius, on a hook in the watchtower and places her quiver of arrows next to it. She then starts going deep in thought...

"Is there any other peaceful means for us to negotiate with them? Or are we left with no other choice, and have to go into an all-out war?" the pacifistic girl continues thinking out aloud as she continues to keep an eye on the demon's fortress.

Suddenly, she hears a familiar voice from below. It was her father and a senior officer of the Resistance, Walter. "How I wished there was a peaceful solution to this, Elizabeth. Sadly, we have no other choice. If they did not oppress us right from the start, we wouldn't have to do this."

"I guess you're right, Father. If I may just ask, where are you heading to? It's dangerous out there."

"I'm just going to gather some resources for the Alliance. Don't worry about me, sweetie. I'll be fine. If you insist, just send a few guards to accompany me and we'll be back in about half an hour or so."

Elizabeth thought about the best course of action, and decided to call on the bravest sergeants on watch, along with 2 other guards, to accompany her father, just in case something happens to him.

"Sergeant Michael, would you mind escorting Colonel Waltfeld into the woods. He mentioned that he would like to gather some resources for us. Bring two guards with you. Please ensure that all of you are come back safely. We can't afford to lose any more men. I'll keep a lookout for your backs from here," she called out to Michael, who happens to be on watch together with her on that day.

And the only reply that came back was "As you wish, Ma'am."

Elizabeth thanked her comrade for the favor, and continued to observe the situation for the night.

As promised, Walter returned half an hour later with his guards, who were carrying some timber that they gathered. They were planning to create a makeshift command center as a backup plan for getting attacked by the demons, and having their command center in the Stronghold destroyed. Elizabeth was in her position, plotting out charts for alternative supply routes for the Resistance when they returned.

"Busy with your charts again, sweetie?" Walter asked curiously. He knew that her daughter had her way with tactics and navigation. She would bury herself on the chart drawing lines with pens of various colors, thereby drawing out elaborate battle plans that have aided the Resistance in retrograde missions.

"Yes, Father. It's kind of late now. It's time for you to return back to your quarters and rest, Father. I will take care of things here as the Duty Officer, please do not worry. I don't want to have another episode of your migraine coming to you again. It hurts to see you unwell, Father. Let me know if you require anything, alright?"

"Very well then. Good night, Elizabeth," Walter said with a smile on his face as he returns to his quarters. "Elizabeth has turned into such a considerate young lady. I'm proud of her."

"Good night, Father. And sweet dreams."



P.s. Italics - thinking

 

Avery shook her head at the young woman's advances. "No. Will heal by self. Go to sleep, heal you first." She was determined to tend to her own injuries by herself--if worse comes to worst, she could heal herself later. Even though she was exhausted from the battle, she pointed the woman in the direction of her bedroll. "Sleep. I watch." She settled herself back against the least comfortable piece of rock she could find--the better to keep herself awake with--and resolved to keep her eyes open until Morgan returned.

-----

Meanwhile, Morgan had already passed by several streams stained red by demon and human blood. All he needed was just a little trickle of clean water... And there it was. He settled down next to a moderately-sized stream and dropped his staff next to himself, dipping his hands in the stream and splashing the cool water over his face and hair. Staring at his reflection in the water, then glancing up to measure the moon's travel, he sighed and picked up his staff to return to the cave. "Yeah. Sleeping sounds good."

 

Apate growled her disapproval, but sat down and refrained from attacking. Why is Naomi letting a member of the Resistance live? She wondered. Maybe she's trying to get information out of him. It's not like he'll tell us anything, It'd be better to just kill him and save the trouble. She finally sighed, letting her menacing look fall. Naomi, I hope you know what you're doing, because if anything starts going south I'm adsorbing this idiot's life force.

She tried as best as she could to keep an eye on the unicorn. Well, unicorn with wings. What was that called? It didn't matter, but she angled herself so that she could see everyone in the clearing just in case someone decided to do something stupid.

Stupid like talking friendlily to a member of the opposing faction... Damnit Naomi...

Toerga laughed cheerfully at the disguised man's words. It had been quite some time since someone had tried to fight him with words rather than steel. It was almost refreshing. He seeks to manipulate me? Hmm, fine, for now. But I do not trust this man. "In my pack, we upheld our honor. So will I here, and will not uncover you. But in my pack we also upheld survival. If I see you endangering my or your own cover, then I shall kill you to preserve our secrecy." He stated casually, before he chuckled again. "But for now, I merely seek information. It is likely that there is a strategist here. Finding them will be most helpful." He paused for a moment, his sarcastic smile ever so slightly growing. "Unless you disagree, oh one who has not informed me of his name."