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Not much time passed since the nightmare had vanished into the night, but just in case, several shadows followed him half way back to where he was going. Those shadows would intercept anything that would try to get to the lady Drow, now nice and vulnerable in the wastes north of the Keep.

She looked rather pathetic to the shadow who stood not much more than five feet away from her. His cloathes were designed to prevent Drow darkvision from spotting him, and without any ample light, he would look like any whisp of air or even the rocky outcropping in the distance.

He knew full well that magic was gone, which is why he was taking this risk. If he could get the information he wanted from this one, his goal could be achieved.

Without warning, or even a greeting, he lifted his arm quickly, and fired his handcrossbow at the woman's back. The dart was coated in a vicious poison, brewed from the fangs of Lloth born spiders, that was capable of paralysing any drow or elf (or outright kill a human) who's blood was unfamiliar to the bite.

Not letting that moment slip by, he launched himself at the woman, drawing out a sword from what looked much like a walking stick (digused as well as he against the eyes of Drow). The weapons was thrust at shoulder level, the blade thin and rather dangerous to any who did not dawn full suits of armour.

Deidrick wasted no time, leading Piper inside the house which was still strewn with rubble, and into the drawing room where Meilikki was waiting. He sait down next to her feet, whined for a pet. It was all he could do.

Meilikki obliged, patted the dogs heads. "Thank you, Deidrick."

She looked up at Piper. "I would stand to greet you, but I've damaged my knee in the quake. Best not to agrivate it with all of my hired help out trying to restore the city." She sighed.

"I hadn't wanted to bring this to you in such....troubling times."

Aella simply let herself sag into the dirt. She was in pain, she knew someone else had died trying to save her... she was at this point exaughsted in mind and body. Gods, but it hurt. She could feel herself being lifted....people were saying soemtihng about an infirmary...or maybe a grave...

Toharu made a noise a fraction of a second too late. She had not seen the drow, merely felt the impact of the dart. But whether it had caught flesh or fabric, she didn't know. But Zahara was still moving, so she assumed she hadn't been struct. From there, it was hold on for dear life.

Kon had made it from the village, and she was angry. She paced back and forth amongst the short dhrubbery of the Underdark. She had missed her prey! She had wanted that girl dead and she had failed! her tail swished back and forth, he paws angrilt hit the ground.

Her head snapped up, she had cought a scent on the wind. He fangs shown as she smiled. She would not sleep tonight, untilo someone was succefully hunted down.

Tarathiel saw Aella dragged by on a makeshift strecher, he imidately rushed ot her side, and looked at her. "You are going into shock from the loss of blood. We need to steam the wound soon, or she will have to lose the arm." He said with sinerity, but none of the adults took him serious. He snorted at them, and rushed to the stable, where he borrowed a lizard and rode back to where he knew someone that would listen to him.

Warhammer took significantly less time in getting to Aella, than the boy riding the lizard. One roar let them know who was boss. "In here." He pointed to a random house that was somewhat ok. "Do as I say, and we save everyone today. Leave the most injuried where they lay. Bring the least injured to safe places about the city. NOW." The peasents agreed that he was the leader now.

Tarathiel sat next to Aella, and started cleaning the injury.

"Use maggots." Warhammer started...

Meilikki shook her head. "In times when it is uncertain who is freind or foe, we must recognize who are those that we can trust. There is nothing casual about friendship." She understood that she was at the brunt of soem harsh emotions right now, even though they may not be directed at her.

"Do you want to know why, or do you want to head blindly into the night?" A bit of a motherly tone in her voice. She would take the time needed for this to be done proberly. They could not afford mistakes.

Aella's eyes were open, but she couldn't really see properly. Everything was fuzzy. She saw blips of images...Taratheil? Had he found her? She didn't want him to see her like this...it might frighten him...he's still a kid. But the familiar face was comforting.

Warhammer too, he'd gotten her out of more problems than she could count.

Oh, but the pain was still there, she'd have to concentrate on that for a while and elt her vision go dark.

Zahara's gloves extended all the way to just below her shoulder so she wasn't worried about her arms. Her wrists were protected as well. She could easily duck and parry most of his shots but Zahara was not a normal drow by any stretch of the imagination. His face was revealed and she grinned. How nice. His beauty didn't distract her though, she was well used to it. Hell even she knew she was a knockout. Her attention went to other tactics. She knew how to fight dirty and she began to put her creative mind to work. She jumped back and kicked up dirt to create a cloud then ducked and rolled to end up behind him. Lashing out with her boot, she slammed it into the backs of his knees. "Lloth is dead," she spat. "There is no more faithful."

"Lloth," The Player Character elf's stance protected him from her attack, "Is now more powerful than before her death." He pivoted, unphased by the cloud of dirt. He never once lost track of where she was, The gloves were wonderful, were they not. "Why else would her priests remain so powerful, when all their magics are channeled through her?" He has seen the fiery attacks of such priests, very recently.

He changed tactics, finding his thin blades unable to superficially harm her. Taking her alive was become more difficult, and somewhat more problematic. He tumbled away from her, grabing his scabboard, and then leaped back at her, stilleto replaced by the wooden tool. His duel fighting shifted gears from simply paralyzing her with the poison to beating her brains into unconsciousness. The sword strove for her exposed flesh, and the wooden club aimed for her head in every way imaginable. He did not mind if she lost an eye from having the weapon trust into her face like a spear, but he would regret her jaw getting broken from one of the swings. He comprised her movements to the simple dodges that most fencers use, and compesated accordingly. Faints became the destructive end of other faints.

He daggers had torn some of the cloth from his arms, but the mail held out each blow. He even allowed her dagger to stabe him directly, because the elfish mail was designed to protect him from those strikes.

He spat another dart at her.