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 Posted: Wed Jul 05, 2006 4:08 pm
 Note: Scion's Log; Only Moofuls should post unless given permission otherwise.
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Posted: Wed Jul 05, 2006 4:09 pm
Temporary Plot Dump <3
"We shouldn't have come so far, Darren." For the umpteenth time, the young Afya hesitated, reaching for her companion's hand to halt him. "We're beyond the range of the patrols, and I can't easily run such a distance should we... Please, let's go back now."
Growing impatient, the Olplyn turned to face her, disguising his irritation with an overly sweet smile. "You wanted a picnic, my dear, and a picnic we shall have." To emphasize his words, he dipped and took the basket from her, turning and half dragging her along behind him. "Besides, I haven't been in the Forest for weeks thanks to that blasted Daewl, and I intend to enjoy my stay here while I can." Temper waning somewhat, he flashed her a warm smile. "It's not much further to the lake. You know that. And we won't stay long."
Sighing, the Afya nodded in agreement, but her eyes remained wary as they wandered the trees. "Lysius will have a fit is he learns we've come so far..."
"I do not answer to the Sargtlin," Darren laughed, releasing her hand and lifting the basket to his shoulder. "And neither do you, Rina."
"Still..." The Afya paused in step as his hand released hers, glancing slowly back the way they had come. Shivering, she pulled her coat tight and hurried to catch up. "A picnic in midwinter."
"On a frozen lake! With ice skating and snowballs, and warm soup and hot chocolate." The Olplyn grinned. "Every year you complain, and every year you enjoy yourself once we're there. Forget about the rogue, forget about the Council, and just..." Shrugging, he ducked under a snow-laden branch and emerged on the lake shore, sweeping an arm to take in the expanse as his companion stepped up beside him. "...have a good time."
The lake panorama was the perfect winter scene. It was not a particularly large lake, but deep, with a thick layer of ice coating its surface. Flawless snowdrifts iced the lake shore and piled in the fir trees, whose still-green spines were barely visible beneath the weight. A few small clouds played across the sky and the sun had taken on a silvery glare in relation to the frosted landscape. The white Jivvin dozing further down the bank only complimented the scene.
Hearing a frighten whimper at his side, Darren held up a hand to silence his friend, with the same hand gesturing her back towards the trees. He moved with her, eyes fixed on the lone Daewl, and, once safely out of sight, lifted the basket from his shoulder and passed it over to her. He withdrew a small belt knife from within his jacket and turned back for the lake.
The Afya‘s hand stopped him. “Don‘t you dare try this on your own,” she hissed, voice barely above a whisper as she turned him to face her, eyes pleading with him. “He‘ll kill you, Darren. We need help. We‘ll go back for Lysius, for Aleda, and…”
He silenced her with a wave, pulling free and turning his back on her. “He‘s sleeping. What better opportunity?” Her protests began anew, but he ignored them, ducking back under the sagging branch to emerge on the lake shore, vaguely hearing Rina move up behind him.
The Daewl was gone.
The following silence stretched endlessly, both Jivvins drawn and pale, eyes fixed on the imprint just a short distance down the bank where the Daewl had lain. And on, and on, for a hundred years or more, when reality insisted it were only a few seconds. A twig cracked to the right.
“Run.”
And they ran. Basket long forgotten, both changing to adult mid-step, they bolted back the way they had come, darting around trees and bushes, bursting through snowdrifts, all the while aware of light footfalls keeping pace behind them…though it may have just been an illusion. An echo on the snow.
As Rina had said, they were a good distance from the village. With the added effort of running through deep snow, both were soon exhausted, yet the quiet footfalls served as excellent motivation to keep pace. Keep moving. Keep moving.
Ragged breathing. The Afya was vaguely aware of a dull thud at her side, but merely veered away from the sound and forced herself back into a sprint. Some minutes passed before she realized the Olplyn was no longer at her side. Whimpering barely audibly, she came to a halt over a snowdrift, staring mournfully back towards the lake. Footsteps. And a spark of hope. “Darren? We‘re almost there, love, come--”
Yelping, the Afya ducked aside as her attacker sprang into view. Regaining her footing, she broke into a run, and the chase was on again. But this time she would make it. The village was close, there were patrols around, and she had gotten a second wind. Nearly there now. Keep moving. Keep mov--
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Posted: Wed Jul 05, 2006 4:10 pm
Breathing raggedly and bleeding from on hind leg, the Afya burst through the trees and into the village, never once looking back as she charged up the street, attracting attention and worried questions from any passer-bys. As she ran, she transformed back to fourth form, limping somewhat on her bad leg but holding the pace. She had made it. She was safe. And with destination in sight, she broke down crying, stumbling the remaining distance to the Vhaid’s home and allowing herself inside. The Council must know.
~.~
“He’s been masquerading as a Ba’rra Ssan,” Aleda murmured, smoothing out a small map on the tabletop. Sighing, she released the parchment and straightened up, eyes rising to fix on the Vhaid. “Many patrols have reported seeing unusual activity with the Ssan, but they know not to attack…and he anticipated that.”
Stepping back from the table, the small Uuthli waved vaguely at the map before folding her arms. “They’ve marked out the most recent attack sites and searched absolutely everywhere in between with the aid of Sargtlins and Olplyns. A few Ssan have turned up, none of which were especially happy to be awoken, and none of which were him. If this keeps up, Kyros, we’ll have a war on our hands.”
The Vhaid quirked a brow. “You’ve spoken with them?”
“Olplyn translators, naturally.” The Uuthli swept a hand toward Jatin, nodding. She cracked a grin. “Thieves and their hobbies, hm?”
“Indeed,” Kyros replied dryly, sitting back in his chair. “But they are helpful… Jatin?”
“It’s as she said.” The Olplyn had forsaken his seat and was leaning against the wall near the doorway, as per usual. He shrugged. “It’s winter, Kyros, and the Ssan are cold blooded. It’s not natural for one to be up and about, and the little activity we’ve noticed… Given his actions, it has to be him. The Ssan we’ve awakened have all reported nothing but sleep and warned us against attacking any of their kind unless we’re absolutely sure it’s who we seek.” He paused, then added, “And they’ve all assured us they would speak to their own leader should any unforeseen deaths occur.”
“And we still haven’t the faintest idea who this leader is.” Silence around the table. The Vhaid sighed. “Jack and Lysius, I’ll need you to--”
The door, supposedly locked, burst open with the arrival of the wounded Afya, who paused once inside as if surprised by her accomplishment. A split second later she was on the move again, but the pause had given the Olplyn near the door time to intercept her--which he did, pulling her into a somewhat awkward embrace when she struggled to push past.
“Calm down…Rina,” Jatin murmured, identifying the Afya with ease despite her state. “Relax, sweetheart, just calm down.” Lifting his head, he glanced expectantly towards Raechel. The girl was her rank, after all.
The Afya, along with most of the Council, has risen to her feet with the unexpected arrival, and was halfway towards the pair before scent of blood reached her. She paused, trained eyes carefully searching the girl before picking out a small but growing stain near her calf. Nodding decisively, she lifted her eyes to Jatin’s and gestured him towards her chair. “Help her over, Jatin, the poor dear’s wound--”
“You left for the forest some hours past,” interrupted the Sargtlin, who frowned from his position on the other side of the table. “Where is the other one… Darren, was it?”
This elicited a fresh bout of sobs from Rina, as well as a stunned look from Jatin, who was helping her into the chair while Raechel saw to her leg. “Darren? Surely you’re not implying that he’s been--”
“Attacked.” Lysius finished, giving Jatin a look that spoke nothing so much as ‘Duh’. “She’s hurt, and he’s gone. What else could it be? Right, Rina?”
The Afya’s only reply was a strangled wail, which left Jatin looking disgusted and Raechel glaring across the room at the speaker. Lysius rolled his eyes.
With a respectful nod towards Kyros, he rose to his feet, waving Jack and Aleda ahead of him towards the door. “Sorry to cut this short, but if we hurry, we could catch him. Aleda, you--”
“I know, Lysius,” the Uuthli interrupted, a warning tinge to her voice. Scowling faintly, she hurried out, muttering a ‘Keep up, Pirate’ as they disappeared down the hall.
At a wave of dismissal from the Vhaid, the Sargtlin followed, but paused in the doorway, hesitating and glancing back. “Rae, if there’s any chance that he’s still alive…”
The Afya was torn, eyes flickering from the Sargtlin in the doorway to her hand on Rina’s slowly healing wound. “But what about..?”
“Leave her with Jatin. He can manage the minor stuff. And besides,” here he paused, sneering somewhat. “He can’t come anyway.” And with a mocking nod to the Olplyn, he was gone, a sighing Raechel following soon afterward.
And then there were three. Or two, shortly, as the Vhaid rose to his feet, rubbing his temple with two fingers to ward away a quickly rising headache. “I apologize for not aiding with your charge, Jatin, but something tells me I won’t be sleeping for a while if they do bring him back… You’re both welcome to stay for as long as you need, but I’m going to get some rest. Good evening to you both.” With a final, apologetic nod, he too exited.
Scowling, the Olplyn dragged the nearest chair over beside the sobbing Afya’s, sinking down for a good sulk of his own and making a mental note to strangle Zelda for her big mouth the next time he saw her. He was Jatin. He was the Olplyn. He was perfectly safe.
~*~
The Sargtlin’s temper was worsening by the second. Jack and Aleda had been lost to sight long before he had even left the Council room, both might need his help, and the distance was only growing because a certain Afya wouldn’t pick up the damn pace! …And had he said that last bit aloud?
“Yes, you did,” Raechel sniffed, pushing past him at a quick march just to show that she could. She heard a muttered apology from the Sargtlin, but ignored it, trekking through the snow a bit louder than he’d have liked, but making progress nonetheless. “Just because you’re used searching the forest for potential murderers and dead people doesn’t mean that I am, Lysius.”
“You’re a wuss, Rae,” he replied good-naturedly, easily catching up and stepping around her to lead the way once more. “Keep up. I think I see Aleda.”
Sure enough, within a matter a minutes they were nearing the Uuthli and the stand-in-Daewl at her side. Both had been facing away, but both, almost as one, looked back once the arriving pair was close. Something was clearly wrong. Jack was a distinct shade of green, and even Aleda had paled considerably. Without a word of explanation, the small Uuthli flicked her hand towards a nearby tree, then let her eyes fall.
The Sargtlin hurried over. “What in hell’s name’s going on h--” He froze, bile rising in his throat, which was quickly suppressed as he looked away. He felt the Afya step up beside him, heard the sharp intake of air as she gasped. “But… Back at the Vhaid’s… Rina’s already…”
Sighing, Lysius lifted his head back towards the village, eyes darkening. “We’ve been set up.”
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Posted: Wed Jul 05, 2006 4:12 pm
Sighing, Jatin sunk lower in his chair, half-lidded eyes staring wearily at the door. Damn, was he bored. Only a few short minutes had past since the departure of the others, but sitting and listening to an Afya cry wasn’t the most entertaining use of his time. He had tried a bit to calm her down, but had quickly given up when she showed no signs of shutting it. He wasn’t exactly the type to get all emotional and considerate over those he hardly knew, after all, and sometimes the best things for situations like this was a good cry.
He might just cry himself when the others got back. He had lost a good Olplyn. The first Olplyn death of the attacks.
Sighing once more, Jatin sent a side glance towards the Afya, then let his eyes fall completely closed. Finally, he risked a conversation again. “It could be worse, you know. I’m sure it was quick. Probably painless. And you made it alive, didn’t you?”
The Afya’s sobs had quieted somewhat, and the Olplyn took that as a good sign, continuing, “And it gives us the opportunity to save more lives. They’ll follow your trail back to him, between the four of them he’ll be captured. The forest’ll be safe once more, and you’ll have prevented a war with the Ba’rra Ssan.”
“Besides,” he paused, lazily folding his hands atop his chest. Rina had fallen completely silent, waiting almost expectantly on his words, or so Jatin thought. “He lived a long life. Death’s just another step.”
An easy silence fell, and Jatin smiled, thankful for an end to the tears. However, he tensed second later, pinpricks running up the back of his neck as a voice that was anything but Rina’s spoke near his ear: “I am glad you feel that way.”
A minute passed as the silence stretched on, neither willing to make the first move. Finally, Jatin’s eyes snapped open, and several things happened at once. The Olplyn fell forward, dropping to the floor and snapping his tail back under the tail, looping it around the Daewl’s ankle. Scion flung the empty chair aside, half changing to his third form and lunging after the Olplyn, only to trip on the tail around his leg and fall heavily on the floor when Jatin rolled out of the way. The Olplyn was back on his feet in a split second, stumbling back around the table for the door.
However, the Daewl had other plans. Scion calmly climbed to his feet, dusting himself off and casting an illusion over the room. The light faded, the door vanished, and the floor fell away, leaving the Olplyn suspended in space and himself walking on air. Turning to face Jatin, the white Daewl made the easy transformation back to fourth, icy eyes glittering maliciously in the dim light.
Jatin stared, stunned, at the continued wall where the door used to be, but reality soon set in and he somehow maneuvered to face the Daewl. Weightlessness be damned, he could still put up a defense. Sneering, he slipped a dagger from the ever-present belt across his chest and, with a flick of his wrist, sent it spinning towards the Daewl.
And missed completely. A close miss, but a miss nonetheless. Situation forgotten, Jatin frowned, straightening up mid-air and glaring pointedly at the Daewl. “I never miss.” And he hadn’t.
With the Olplyn’s self-assured words, the dagger materialized in Scion’s chest, blood spilling from the wound to stain pale skin and clothing. Both Jivvins were dumbstruck, the Daewl with the wash of pain from the now-existent dagger wound, the Olplyn in smug surprise at his accomplishment.
Jatin was the first to recover, and immediately sent another pair of daggers spinning in quick succession towards the white Daewl, where both sunk deep within his chest and sent him reeling back against the wall, successfully snapping him from the daze as well. Snarling, heedless of the pain, Scion manipulated his illusion further to straighten and hold the Olplyn’s limbs, but Jatin surprised him further by easily pushing aside the bonds and drawing a final dagger, holding it balanced between two fingers.
“I’ve figured you out, Scion.” he mused aloud, eyes leaving the white Daewl to wander the room. “It’s all fake, isn’t it? Just an illusion.” Pausing, he let his gaze flicker back to the Daewl and grinned before turning his eyes to the floor, which obligingly reappeared beneath his feet. “And an illusion is only as real as you believe it is.”
Almost on cue, the lighting returned to normal and the open doorway reappeared. Nodding approvingly, Jatin glanced back to Scion, who had by this time sunk nearly to the floor, breathing laborously for the three dagger wounds. The Olplyn watched him a moment longer then, compassionate side kicking in, he slowly stepped over and crouched before the Daewl, final dagger held ready should it be some sort of trap.
When there was no reaction, he relaxed somewhat and, reaching forward, carefully withdrew one dagger after another, setting the blood coated blades carefully on the floor. The Daewl’s only reaction was a painful hiss, which Jatin ignored, closely inspecting each wound before rising to his feet once more. “I can’t heal them. Too deep.”
Silence fell between the two. Finally, the white Daewl climbed shakily to his feet, bracing himself against the wall, waiting a beat longer before straightening up completely and wiping a fleck of blood from his lips. “You are not going to kill me?”
“Zelda’d have my head.” Smirking, Jatin stepped aside, waving the dagger-wielding hand towards the door. “Get out. And be careful. They’ll be watching for you.” And besides, he mused, watching as the wounded Daewl changed to third and slipped out the door, deep red blood boldly standing out against the white fur--death by starvation was much, much worse.
The threat past, the Olplyn retrieved his chair and daggers, sinking down to clean the blades and await the return of the rest of the Council.
Problem solved.
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