Snippet #1511453

The raunchy song had finally come to an end and a surprising amount of couples formed as the women hopped down off of the bar. Beelzes took great care to help her tiny ward down to level ground. Well, maybe not so level considering how much of the good-stuff she'd pumped into Faera. Beelzes patted Faera's head and beamed with pride as the little drunk made her own terrible puns. That pride melted into slight embarassment, her pale-tattooed skin coloring red as Faera divulged the source of her giddiness. "Shh, that's enough now dear. Have some bar-nuts!"

Mikana's laugh was barely above a whisper, her severed vocal cords not able to produce the full sound. Still, the petite elf enjoyed herself immensely in the company of her fellows. Mikana wrapped her arms around Caine's neck and tried to hoist the bumbling man up. Oaf... she thought with a smile. She moved some of her azure locks from her face and leaned forward to kiss the berserker.

A human, my dear? Disgusting. Truly, there are many less appaling choices to be found in Norr. the eloquent, distinctly male voice within her skull caused Mikana's spine to tingle. She froze and stared into Caine's eyes. Her expression was one of slight confusion and a twinge of fear. She found herself completely immobile. Come now my dear child, return to the fold. with that, it all came back to her in a flood. Memories, emotions, experiences, abilities...allegiances.

The elf's face broke into a seductive grin and she ran a slender finger down the Caine's jawline, moving slightly to trace her finger across his lips. Mikana's eyes flashed with a burning desire...maybe not the one Caine might have expected. It promised something much more sinister than a tumble in the sheets. With the speed of a striking snake her lips were locked to his in a rough kiss, her hand gripping the back of Caine's head by his hair. Without warning the embrace was broken and the blue-haired elf was lost in the crowd. Noticing the sudden change in atmosphere, Iriana waited for a minute or so before slithering out into the rain after Mikana.

---

A sigh almost hissed it's way out of Wrath's lips when he heard the approach of one of his legionnaires. It came a surprise when he glanced back to see Kisikoni; He normally never heard the deep human's approach. Looking past the wavering man though, Wrath thought he caught a glimpse of someone else in the pale moonlight. "The damned rain is picking up again, eh? What're you doin' sittin' here all by your lonesome?"

Wrath tried not to wince. Trying not to speak to drunks. "Just wanted some quiet, Ayalen. It's nice out here..." the general smirked and leaned back against one of the awning support-beams. "And I like the rain, alot." Wrath looked back to the rippling pond and observed the scene of water falling into water. Failing miserably at doing so, it seems.

"It seems I'm not the only one who sought a bit of peace and quiet," the second voice nearly made Wrath jump out of his seat. These footsteps Wrath had not heard coming. He set a level stare upon the winsome dark elf, moving over across the bench in case she opted to sit. "I don't know about the two of you, but I get the distinct impression that the people here would rather we were anywhere else. When do we move out?"

A good question. Wrath pretended to mull it over for a second before looking out across the water again. "No less than three days from now. That isn't even including the etire army...mostly just the Black Guard and our forward mounter ranks. Two or three scout-legions as well...only mobile units." he smirked at Talae. "Figure you could live the life of a spoiled soldier a bit longer if you hung back with our middling forces?" a joke, but not entirely unplausible. There were many legionnaires who would be 'helping out' in securing the town over the next week or so just to enjoy the spoils of war for a few days longer.

Out of the corner of his eye, Wrath caught a steady wave of movement. A line of twenty or so townsmen--almost all deep human, orc, elf or dark elf--was advancing on the gazebo. The figure in the lead was the most intriguing. At first he thought is was Child, for indeed it wore the flawless white robe emblazoned with crimson flame, but that seemed to account for most of it's body. The robe was overly large, as was the hood, and the edges billowed outward constantly despite the lack of wind while some sort of darkness permeated the interior of the cloak. Not even the rain helped to keep the fabric down. It was impossible to tell what race the occupant of the animated robes was. Wrath was already standing and trying not to curse.

"It seems we have some company, either of you have a knife?
I'm pretty sure we;ll have to fight, that is, if you value your life."

The Song came unsteadily. He had not prepared any spellsong for a couple weeks now and it already felt unfamiliar and cumbersome. Still, a faint blue aura radiated a few feet out from the bard, creating a field that would increase awareness and cleanse minor toxins. Hopefully that included the fog of intoxication. They were in the most isolated portion of the city, practically no legionnaires close enough to call to for help. Wrath cursed himself for leaving the remnant-chain in his quarters...the far-speaking stone only worked during the day. He stood, staring at the motly assortment of poorly armed townsmen and women who had simply stopped some thirty paces away. The ghostly-Child stared back from under the darkness of their hood.