This route taken, by the merchant guides, was indeed a great choice. Not only was she given privacy from their camp, but she could have not been more comfortable than she was now. The fresh air was inviting; it was here that she found freedom from the monumental walls of the cities, in the embrace of mother nature. With a gentle caress, she felt the breeze brush along her cheek, causing the light rings to scintillate. The hood was pulled back, allowing the dark waves of her hair to spill freely down her shoulders and back, even get caught in the dance of the currents. Where eyes couldn't peer at her, she found herself deep in the shadows at the creek, hidden behind the trees. The silks were slowly removed by their layers, exposing the dark of her flesh to what little light pierced past the canopies above her head. Elegant folds were neatly folded so that arms and upper body was exposed. Dexterous fingers brushed along her wrist and arms, tracing the markings as the vines coiled about, springing to life from her touch. The vine-like tattoos ensnared her shoulders, along her naked collarbone and around her neck, as if strangling her. Dafina remained calm, hearing the whimsical wind and the trickling creek, taking in the symphony of the evening and God's Creation.

" There was a felt cadence of nature being woven upon flesh below. Perhaps it was the very winds that spoke to him of such. Continually sending their carress fully against his enwrapped figure. Foretelling of one eventuality or another. Providing him with thoughts and words that were not his own, and allowed him all the more ease to relax and listen to something much greater than himself. The winds baited him further to seek out what was transpiring below, as if to foretell of a secret treasure that was to become his, or perhaps just to be looked upon if he became too lazy. So it was, from the canopies high above, where indeed the shelter of shadows was provided, and the brightness of the sun was not allowed to enter the shaded darkness that was all and below the high risen reaches of these aged trees.

Another shadow would join with those already settled and in a continual state of slow interweavings as the trees would be led to pull this way, and shift creakingly slow the other as the winds foretold them to do. As he descended, a moment was taken to pause, and gather his surroundings. The flush of the flesh of his hand siezing upon the rougher bark of wood that became a solid means to reconfigure his balance. and listne to the euphonious sounds of hsi surroundings that were a near continual occurance, though at other times became a complete silence as if the haven of nature did not exist in bearing a single spirit at all. Yet, movement was discerned below. The feel of a particular vine beneath the fore appenditures of his hand echoed of the reverbrations that were weaving upon a womans flesh.

The slightest of vibrations exposing to his inner eye the foretellings of how soft her flesh was, to what curvings of her neck and collar that its kin were being persuaded to follow and encompass. Eyes drew appealingly wide to such secrets. Yet he saw not an inkling of it just yet. She secreted in the shadows and behind the nest of trees below nearer so to the bristling cascade of the creek that flowed and shimmered below where just enough light would catch upon its soft current."

She stared, in a daze as her thoughts were drained out of her mental ravine. Dafina basked under the gentle care of the world around her. Hazel eyes were at half mast, dreamily swallowing the darkness until finally closing her eyes and gathering the folds she unraveled from around her being. Dabbing it to her face, she lightly dried the cooled water from her dark skin. A bath would have to come for another time, staying out here exposed wasn't truly ideal for her " being alone was already far too dangerous according to the merchants. Using the same silks, she began to pull it over her head, hiding away her hair and her visage when veiling the lower half of her face. Her eyes were revealed, nothing more would be given away of the woman underneath the silk. There was a whistle in the air when a brisk current came through. Dafina rose to her feet slowly and felt the wind whip against her, revealing her bare feet and the thin anklets. With a hurried gesture, she worked quickly to adjust the silk to conceal her feet, out of habit and since it was customary to keep them out of view.

Distracted by her own busy hands, she failed to notice the descent of another in the area. The voice, regardless of how much it lacked in threat sent a chill down her spine. Her head snapped up and she became statuesque immediately. Her heart drummed rapidly, wishing to leap out of its confines. All the thoughts, all the feelings of paranoia came rushing back at once. She was being watched" In a most private moment, where she was exposed, Dafina had not been alone. The realization installed a fear in her and she looked at the weaves around her, knowing that she was in her element...and if she needed to escape, her talent would allow it. "I do not wish to remain longer," the rich accent was something she could not hide, which gave what she was away. "Are you the keeper of this forest?" The inquiry was quietly made as she started to take a slow step backwards. Hazel eyes darted about, taking in the darkness presented to her frantically.

" There were of course other ways to see her. The night itself was another part of the day, another extenditure of time that he was able to be awake, and the need for his talents and skills to be used for whatever reasons and divinities were called for. There was thus, whilst he watched her, a natural ease that he watched the silks be gathered upno her, concealing her, yet impressing him with the quality of such attire, and all the more that she spent a few moments gathering it about her as if she belonged to a chantry or similar proprieties of chastity. The measure of fear that he instilled in her was heard, was watched subtley in her movements. Was all the more easily discerned with her response and denial to remain there in the company of one she knew not. One who could just so easily done away with her before she'd realize he was there at all. His reply came back in a manner that let her know he was in a carefree antiquity of mind. Though the deliverance of a woman to join himself to for perhaps even a few moments was enough to entice within him a small gathering of mirth and unspoken gratitude.-"...ah..tis up to you then..It is a bit late in theh hour to be about most would say.."-A moment or three of silence was allowed to pass, his attentions upon her, or perhaps sent elsewhere as he thought upon a matter that she posed upon him. His voice coming out a bit more infringed when he would speak..as if the matter could not be agreed upon in her terms.-"..neh..these woods keep me rather..?"

Dafina had to calm down and think, perhaps she was not in the presence of one hired to bring her back. Which was something she had to remind herself, not everyone was seeking her. Lately, the meetings she had left her looking past her shoulder, especially since one of her mother's own had already found her. Paranoia was a horrible feeling that she wanted to shake off, just for a moment. Strange men didn't lurk about in the darkness of the forests, was he a ranger" By the Gods Dafina. He could just be some stranger who was just passing by. Confusing herself, she closed her eyes tightly and opened them again, trying to focus. There was an unfamiliar sound and Dafina quickly looked to its direction. Barely seen was the cloak, though due to the mottled shadows, the woman couldn't make the rest of him out. But he was there! Somewhere. Her lips formed a straight line and she rolled her shoulders back, as if to shroud away the bit of fear still stirring within her. "You wish to see my face?" It was a simple request, but for Dafina, removing her veil, her hood, felt as if she was exposing herself completely to this stranger. However, if he meant hard, he would have done so when she least expected it " when she was bare of the silks at the water's edge. Hesitant, the woman didn't move for a second and then bowed her head, "I am afraid you will not find the beauty that you were told to seek," she whispered and reached for the hood to pull it away from the lower half of her face, since she wrapped it like a veil. The top portion simply gave away, slipping down the mane of ebony hair that framed her dark visage. Keeping her head low, she exhaled and used the fabric like a shawl on her shoulders. "Now it is your turn, for I have revealed myself, if you stand before me, you shall see my face," Dafina trembled and clutched the material at her chest with these spoken words "It was an interesting moment. Indeed, there were times he would not have minded being a bandit or soeme roguish sort. This was one of those times. Yet, he did not inline himself towards such chaotic moralities. Instead, the sound of her silks being drawn away were listened to upon a figurine that was perhaps suitable enough to please his expectations. The even darker contrast of her skin in comparison to that of her silks drew upon his curiosity, though such was not wholly indifferent to what he knew about in terms of skin tone. Nonetheless, a rustle of movement would come ot her ears as he descended from the tree. A breif air of a breeze drifted from above to the ground below, perhaps to just briefly disturb her silks about her ankles yet again. The patches of grass that led to her seemed to be magnets ofr his steps, for he made not a noise as he approached.

Yet, before he'd reach her, amidst the darkness that alloted the night to the lack of sight to them both, a moment of disturbance was given about his waist. The sound of an unfastening would be conjured for a moment or three until a tying was loosened and lenghtened out for the duration of a moment or two. Then, in the span of a moment a breath was taken in through the thickness of his mask, as if an air of a whisper was sent into the air. And in another, a semblence of illumination flashed forth from the whereabouts of his waist as a bug bearing an array of light from its body began to flitter and jit about between and around them. The illumination was enough to pour upon her a small measure of light, the radius was only several feet in diameter, yet it was bright enough to acquire the sight of her features with greater purpose than that of a candles flame. The squint from his eyes were already upon her from beneath his own hood. A hood he did not remove as he would be first to look her over, and ensure she was not someone whom he might discern to be a threat..or serving a purpose that he would not need these brisk formalities upon.-"

She was now bracing herself, for what, the sorceress wasn't sure of. The man was an enigma, strange sort that happen to stumble upon her. Thanking God many times over that she wasn't caught bathing, he didn't seem to just catch a glimpse of her and keep his identity hidden. Instead, the man was removing his own masks, his hood and anything that obscured his face. Dafina languidly looked back to him, keeping silent as she watched the articles of clothing pull away to reveal the man behind the mask. Her eyes followed the movement of his hands as her own loosened the vice-like grip she had on the silks. A puzzled look remained on her face as she surveyed each scar and what seemed to be markings, a tattoo of sorts, across his nose and underneath his eyes. She gave that a scrutinizing look, as if trying to read it but then turned away. Her dark hair was full and easily becoming a curtain to hide behind when she turned her head. She assumed he was a warrior, until hearing his title. From the corner of her eyes, she glanced to him and felt compelled to bow her head.

"Dafina, daughter of Lady Valencia, Duchess of Ar'shalea," she immediately regretted saying this, remembering the unfortunate position she had placed herself in. "..and is it truly that rare in these parts?" Her brows and her gaze had softened, "Or is it just rare for you, Lord Torienthalis of the Encinonsa Clan," his full title rolled from her lips thickly in her accent like molasses, "It is rare for me to find a Lord...in the middle of a forest at this hour," she tugged at the hood, bringing it tighter around her shoulders once the wind picked up again. Her hair was tugged forward along with the silks around her ankles.



" The woman was obviously cold, or feebly of a shy nature that was causing her to seek to pull herself further into her silks. Silks though, were an obvious lack of proper clothing to ward off the wind in particular, all the moreso the cold of approaching winter. A twitch of an ear was becoming as the source of light between them made an attempt to buzz into the elongated elven tip of it. An attempt perhaps to disturb a polished ring woven through flesh thereon in the metal of gold. The agitated action sent the bug asunder and back into its swirl and clamour upon the air, it though, did not seem able to leave the two of them out of its radius of illumination, as if trapped, or bound for some reason to remain above and between them in its flight.-"...hmm..anyone at all is rare here truthfully...yet qutie rare indeed is it for my eyes to fall upon a woman with dark skin. You wear the attire of nobility well enough..such rich attire. Such seems too light of a fabric to keep you warm by theh looks of it. If'n yeh don't find a fire or some furs..or someone with something better I dun think you'll be so healthy when yeh wakes in the morning..winter has its matter of getting colder and colder after the suns outa sight."

-The words were laced through his lips as if they were mere old wise tales, yet with solid conviction in every word. Eyes wove upon her nonetheless as she cuddled her way further into her silks. He was of too ethical of a plight to do what his eyes were wane to dress upon her. Yet a wry curl of a chasticing lip wove a means of mercy that unspeakably offered a hint of that congenital habit of chivalry that was coming to mind.-"...I have come by a number of names in theh past..m'history and the comings of my title is moreso something to explain another time..has yeh a camp near here" moreclothes perhaps?""

With concerned etched upon her visage, and with lips down turned, hazel eyes scanned the world before her, trying to pierce the darkness that laid ahead. A hand rose to press along her lips as she whispered and the giant trees groaned, moving after years, centuries of being idle. Their motions were slow but the forest already appeared to be opening up and a path laid before them. Fingertips uncoiled before her lips and weaves danced sporadically from them, leaping out and around to entangle the air in its invisible web. Still nothing, just the shadows before her remained intact. Just how far had she gone" Surely, she couldn't have been gone for more than an hour and probably about half a mile distance from the camp's location. So wrapped up in her thoughts she was, that Dafina failed to notice the man moving behind her. Closing her eyes, she pressed her hands at her chest, keeping the silk fabric around her shoulders to protect her from the wind when she was going to step forward. But, her eyes snapped open and she immediately felt the immense warmth sweeping over her arms and her back. Alert now, both eyes widened and Dafina looked down to see the cloak coming around her being.

His shadow, his vir cloaked her, choked her in its embrace. It tugged and pulled at her, disabling her escape from his grasp. The silks were removed without regard, ripped away from her dark skin to leave her exposed, naked and unprotected from his lecherous groping. Her cries would fall to deaf ears; it was the last time she had cried out for help.

Dafina shuddered noticeably as the thoughts were cast aside and she was brought back to reality. He was providing her with security, not attempting to touch her, to take advantage of this situation. To touch her, he would feel her jerk reaction to the feel of his arms. Her breathing became shallow and her body couldn't stop from trembling, even after the warm over-powered the cool kiss of the wind. His voice startled her, though he had not intended for it to do so. "I.." she started to speak but the words were caught in her throat, "I thank you, for such a concern," the vines slithered around her shoulders, neck, as if trying to get a look at the man. The tattoos were not vir, they did not wriggle above her skin and leap out. But they were a part of her flesh, moving gracefully, greedily running over her curvature with a lover's gentle stride. Dafina pulled her shoulders in along with her limbs, "I don't wish to cause you worry no trouble. There is no need to remain here if you wish for my warmth, the fire is not far off," she hoped this was true, as of right now, she noticed not a flicker of light.

She slowly glanced over her shoulder, though was careful not to shorten the distance of his face with her own. Her hair obscured her vision, perhaps it was for the best, since she looked confused by his chivalrous behavior. When one was not accustomed to such, it easily one take them by surprise

" The opening of the trees beyond them was seen, was particularly difficult not to notice as they would perhaps pull forth their very roots from the ground where such had webbed out for ages through the passing of time to now be drawn forth to part a path as she deemed them to. It was no doubt a strong magi that was woven from her will. One that would pose upon him not to do harm upon her; even more so now whilst she was in the partial embrace of his arms. He was cautious, neh was he the sort to overtake her without care or worry that she would have some means to defend herself. He was even weary of her hands in these moments. There were some woman who were sharp enough to seek out one of his blades for example, and plunge such into his own body in rebellion. So it was, the corded muscles of his forearms, about the only true length of his arms in their entirety that were not armored were pressed upon the outer flesh of her own. The cords of strength twisted one way or the other at first as his hands persuaded the cloak to be lured around her, if for even a few moments before she'd pull out of the warmth that radiated against the strong fabrications of its makings that would keep out the chill of the wind beyond, and what winds might come towards them now that there was an opening in the wake of the forest beyond, where the trees had walked off and parted such a path. The slight angle of her features towards him was felt as was listened to a little more clearly when she spoke. Yet, that curtain of hair indeed kept the advantage of concealing the emotions that would be able to read via their visages. It thus, left the matter to the auras that were surrounding them. The vibes that were even now penetrated and errant with the energy that spilt forth from the very pores of their flesh. Pounded forth with the thriving of their hearts. Perhaps her very pulse was being listened to, her very breaths to be felt in the air beyond her lips that he could read and discern each of her shakings as they sent minute vibrations into the warmth that was his aura. If it was from the cold then it would still in coming moments. If it was from fear, it would still as she'd come to trust him. Unless she was of some nature that offered a psychological problem that he was even now beginning to set off. Nonetheless, he would remain there, offering such warmth the encumbrance of his person behind her, where indeed her very silks would not be minded slipping away, yet they would not by his will so soon. The nagika posed a particular matter to avoid as it loomed between their bodies. A length of metal that promised death by hands that knew how to use them. Whether she was one of such, he knew not. It though, was not leant upon, or touched whilst he stood so close behind her. It was not known to him how far or how long she had walked. But if it had been for an hour, then she would have walked a considerable distance that would leave the light of the campfire a long, long distance away. Be it from the handful of hills that would weave and curl to the extent of several horizons along the earths" turning globe, or be it due to the added layers of thick forest that were in the way, the light from the campfire itself would be far indeed before it would be seen again by foot. "Ah..it is the least I can offer in these moments. If such is your wish, then we shall seek such out. One who has such a way with the trees"I see many coming reasons to accompany and ensure her safety. And perhaps whilst we do so..you can tell me how you do such. " She would not be imprisoned in his overture of cloak and warmth. Rather, a slight partition would be allowed, as if to offer the embrace to be slipped out from if she sought to do so now. Otherwise, the providence of such an offering of movement would idle. His forearms to relish the feel of her silks against the flesh of his forearms that were posed so lightly against her own just beneath.

Fingers reached for the silk, subconsciously, pulling it around her visage to hide away behind it. His presence worried her, yet it was inviting, appreciated. A gentleman in the dark, a rare occurrence that now gave Dafina a companion to escort her back to the kind merchants who took her in for a few weeks. He didn't leer nor did he seem uninterested, the man was paying attention to her words, watching her attentively..especially of how the environment reacted in her wake. With her eyes closed, bare feet pressed upon the fallen leaves, which paved the path before Dafina. No sharp stone or a rooted tree would cause an obstacle for them, well her, since Lord Torienthos took to the trees and their comforting shadows. She, on the other hand, was an apparition of silks, weaving around as the fabric fluttered around her ankles. The gold lightly seen though quickly hiding under the folds, teasing the eyes. The path grew as boughs lifted slowly and the earth rose to provide cushion for the balls of her feet. Setting her gaze forward, she caught the smell of smoke lingering in the wind, traveling past the winding path ahead.

His inquiry was not forgotten as she walked, for after a few moments of silence, gathering her thoughts with each step, Dafina began to speak. Her words were carried into the current, reaching his ears as if she was simply at his side this whole time. "Nature has its own will, its extraordinary.." she lifted her hand to a lowered branch, passing her fingers along the drying leaves clinging to their last day. With the simple caress, green flowed through the blades, spreading from one leaf to another as the petiole seemed enriched suddenly. The act was quick as her hand quickly lowered to secure the silk, but the end result was a beautiful display of life, "This gift is a talent of mine, one that is rare among the women of my land," she continued, looking past her shoulders and then up. Hazel eyes were hidden in the shadows of her own hood and that of the canopies above them, but they sought him momentarily. He was agile, strong and fairly quick to maneuver the way he did with so much ease. She admired this, the physical power he possessed. She lacked this and couldn't help but to feel a small bit of envy.

Shaking off the feeling, Dafina looked down, continuing quietly. "But others are talented in different ways. Some can melt gold, create fire in their hands, I hold no talent like that. The good thing is, is that I do not grow too weak after using so much of my talent, for I am fueled by the life around me." she softly whispered the last words and turned ahead, only to let out a quiet gasp.

There was a small hill, full of leaves. Dafina was now sliding down and gathering the silks so the hem wouldn't catch a snag. When reaching the bottom, she straightened herself up and looked around, making sure she was still heading in the right direction. Again the scent of smoke was carried, yet there was no light of a fire ahead. Stopping for a moment, she looked down and tugged the silks in place, hiding the nagika, "It's a blessing, M'lord, but it may also be a curse to have such talents," with the words spoken, she started to pick up the pace to the point that she was not truly walking but jogging - as much as she could with so much upon her person

It was a pleasant enough day. There seemed to be nothing trivoltry enough occurring that would persuade his attention to be inclined elsewhere. There were particular ways he kept himself for the most part atuned with his surroundings whilst in the woods that he would have to explain, but using such talents of his own allowed him to keep his attentions upon her whilst they headed on the return path towards her destination. His ears drew to her words as they rose to him, the softness and direct nearness that they offered despite her distance was a gift; one that he enjoyed and silently appreciated. The sound of a womans" voice with such quality and tone was like a melody to a particular degree. One that he minded not becoming entranced upon and enjoying the sound of whilst they enjoyed the leisure of their passing. Nonetheless, whilst she was actually speaking, he would slow his movements. So as to listen to her words all the more fully. So as to watch her whilst she'd walk and catch that sole moment when her hood would shift, and upend towards his whereabouts. He'd still upon a branch then. Muscles and tendons riveting from within flesh to a tightened vigor that caused the leathers upon encasing boots to bend and hold in place for a lingering moment or three. The oils that doused such leathers kept them from squeeking. Kept them from creaking and other such noises that hardened and such measures that were applied onto leathers might make. The slight darkened movement of his cloak drifted beneath him again. The shambles of a few twigs discernable where they were used as additives of camoflauge. Splotchs of green moss were also smudged upon the hanging leather, both darkening its tapestry of natural accouterments as well as giving the slight of mind a view of matching items to his surroundings. Nonetheless, he was vividly viewable in that moment when she looked upwards. That slightest appearance of hazel perceived if even for a glimmer of a moment. The glaze of her eyes. The movement of her lips. Then he would return to persuing her, till that hill was discerned in a following moment. Some trees sprouted forth from it at particular angles. Some were uprooted, or the roots were viewable upon that particular side whilst the weather had its plight upon it, and the soil that was beneath it. She fortunately did not run into such hazards. And he was left to find a detour as the trees thinned out in comparison to what he had been traveling amongst to that point in time. The gasp though was heard, so soft, so brief. A look of befuddlement drew upon his brows as his attentions wove back in her direction. Only to catch the fleeting sight and sound of the commotion that she was making as her silks allowed her to slide all the more quickly towards the hills base. It was a wonder that the roots of leaves and twigs did not puncture and make purchase in several places upon her attire when she was through. It was all the more lucky that she did not come to any harm. But then again, as he recalled briefly the talent that she spoke of. The way that nature made her paths all the more perfect and welcome to tread upon, such no doubt had similar influence upon her descent. A smirk thus won over the truer beating of his heart as it raced briefly after those moments of unknownst fate. The detour he found would allow him to rush towards her upon the earthen ground in a pursuing moment to aid her in rising to her feet as twas the least he could do at that point. Perhaps a hand could be sent to pick or brush away at any debris that had snuck aboard her silks in hopes of being transported to another area before it'd be discovered, along with whatever little creatures might be harboring upon it. "Eh..I was not aware you were of a mind to hasten your pace with such a shortcut. If you are in such a hurry I can place you upon m"back whilst I go about a run?" His tone was playful, accusing her of doing the fall on purpose for such an obvious reason that he stated. His offer though began to weave upon his mind particulars that would be necessary to adhere to if she did take up his offer, but he seemed to not take it back in the least, holding to it and whatnot as if it had been done before. The scent of a fire was discerned in the air, and had been beforehand. It was perhaps a brief reminder of their destination. As well as a wonder as to how many fires they needed to make that would build such so strong to drift so far. And this led to a silent wonder as to their number, if not a more unfortunate path of thoughts, such as pillaging.

There was a shift in the trees, perhaps the wind played with them, keeping her on edge. Never did her eyes linger on one spot too long, as if she was trying to catch something blending in with the mottled darkness. Torien vanished from view, melting into the shadows engrossing them, closing in as the moon was shut behind the clouds above. The scent of rain was carried into the gust, cool and piercing through the silks, as it came from between the trees. The smell mingled with that of smoke...of a fire nearby. Her heart drummed rapidly with the realization that she was already close enough that little flecks of ash desperately caught on the billowing silks. Her hands peered from the length of her sleeves when Dafina pressed them against the tree before her, trying to breathe without choking herself on the ash that peppered the wind. Looking up, hazel eyes searched the dark for his voice when he spoke, the look of bewilderment etched on her skin - but the shadows of the night, and the trees, hid away her features.

"They saved me, to them, I owe my life. Because of them, I was delivered to safety," breathlessly, the words clung to the air when she spoke, trying to find the man's location. There was a light whisper of the leaves above as he shifted, moved ahead. Without hesitation, she too moved, already aching from the sprint and the change in the terrain as it elevated into hills and back down. She was a few yards away, though the clearing where her camp had smoldering flames, pouring an ember color into the gray they were surrounded in. It was bright and easily creating a beacon to follow.

Before she could reach the area, if Torien was ahead, he already knew what nightmarish scene was on display before her eyes would take it all in. The caravan's carts laid in rubble with dancing flames sinfully devouring the wood scattered about. The faint smell of food lingered heavier there, indicating that their supplies went up in smoke, literally. Clothes were spilled about, stained and matted with dirt. The ground was unsettled as well and tracks both human and beastly marked the ground, somethings overlapping so much that one could imagine the fighting that took place. Though it was clear what won. Crimson pools had formed underneath the frames of two young women, their clothing just tatters clinging to their lifeless bodies. Face down, their face was hidden away, and it was best that it was. Displayed as if someone had rammed their faces into the dirt, their backs were adorned with claw marks that glinted from the blood that had settled on the open wounds. There was a broken sword laying at the side of man twisted in a position of defeat. His back to the forest, in which Dafina was coming close to the end of, so she wouldn't spot the throat ripped by something inhuman, leaving a grotesque display of his trachea and esophagus swimming in a pool of his blood. " Torien would be awaiting her approach at the end of the tree line. His attention was upon the scattered debris and settling chaos that could be considered the remnants of the encampment. It would take him several moments to look through it all from his position. Some of the smoke about still doing its part o cloud his vision and cause a watering to the edge of his eyes as he looked matters over. There was no noticeable remnance of danger so there was no need to prevent her from entering the encampment before she'd reach it. Unless he sought to ward her eyes from looking upon such matters. Nonetheless, as she'd approach the devastated encampment he'd speak to her for few moments in a low, solemn voice; almost as though he was sorry for what had occurred, and was already in some silent state of mourning. "Hm..I will scout about the area and ensure those who did this are not still about and are not in waiting..with tracks like those, they will be easily enough to track and I'll see what direction their headed if not how much farther ahead they are..I'll be back shortly?" He allowed a few moments for her to gather herself enough to respond back to him if she sought to. If she had nothing to say when her consciousness became clear again, then he would silently take his leave. The soles of his leathered feet angling upon opposing angles of the tree branch he was upon as he strode along its" length with an aged acruity for remaining perfectly balanced. The beam was leapt from in another moment so he could land upon another that ascended towards another tree. His steps hastenening about as he lurked amongst and through the surrounding weight of hanging branches whilst he circled the encampment entirely. Ensuring first that there were none waiting in the bushes. And in the process making notes of where tracks and paths were forced through foliage and earth alike where they either entered or left if not both. After such was done he'd follow the path he'd told her he would..if such was discovered. There were at times magical means to conceal such as well as natural. Though, such beasts didn't conceal their presence and work at the camp, and would have to rely on another sort to cover their tracks if such was the case. A few other chidings plied upon his mind whilst he searched about. Taking his time to ensure that nothing particular was missed, and anything of importance was not left behind that he should pick up and look to further. There might also be some supplies or weapons that might be of use still that were left about. He had a penchant for scavenging certain things of worth. When his search was complete he had it of mind to scour the camp and ensure that anything left of worth would be set aside and hidden to be returned for at a later time when he could sell it.

The first howl was blood curdling enough, but it was not the only one. Its counterpart cried out into the night, warning its brother or perhaps it was the thrill of the hunt. Dafina didn't know the difference, it was made her blood run cold and that was all she knew. Slowly, almost with an eerie calm, fingers worked at the silk adorning her body, unraveling it slowly as she whispered against the heavy drumming of her pulse within her ears, "Keltara," she visibly shivered when the words left her lips. The fabric slipped away from her dark skin, melting from her as it fluttered around her exposed ankles. The smell of the engulfed goods filled the air and her nostrils when she took a breath and looked up. From her her right shoulder shoulder down to her left hip, the fabric revealed her skin kissed by the orange hues of the flames still dancing around her. Markings crawled on her skin, embracing her arm and torso, circling the one breast in view as she bowed her head down. They wanted her to know of their presence, perhaps of the danger they posed for the man now in the tree. Dafina had seen the frightful creatures used before; when they hunted, they hunted with one objective, to kill. These poor people already paid the price and their blood was in her hands. And soon Torien's if she did not do something.

Quick movements were made in the shadows when the arrows came whizzing by; rustling of the trees and bushes were heard, still quite a distance away. Dafina looked up, gathering her hands at her hips as she clutched the rope keeping her simple garment together. "Arrows, you would need a volley just to penetrate their hide! Leave! Get from here, quickly!" She was hissed to him, wanting to keep quiet enough for him to hear but to not draw attention to him any further. It was too late, the motion of the trees became erratic as the creatures moved from branch to branch, descending down until they grew silent and stalked the terrain. They wanted to scare them, to give chase. The sorceress was going to draw them to her, away from Torien, perhaps to give him the advantage to take them by surprise, though arrows would not work unless he was a quick shot and was able to pull it from his quiver in a blink of an eye. It would wound them enough to cause a stagger - giving them time to flee if they could. Dafina remembered their weakness, and perhaps these merchants knew as well. Fire, fire was what they feared. Such scaly hides were saturated in oils and waxes, making them susceptible to fire. Seconds were crucial as the sorceress turned to the still burning carts and frowned. These people sacrificed their goods to try and keep the beasts at bay, and without a blade or polearm to their name, striking the beasts at their hearts would be nigh impossible. At such close range, the beast would have petrified them with its sickly, glowing gaze, making them easy to strike down.

"Fire, I need fire," A makeshift torch would have to be made with her silk robe, though time was running out. "I will draw them to me," she finally picked up a piece of wood from the cart, nearly charred but still held the life of a flame at its end. Her eyes opened wide when the howling pierced the air, shattering her concentration at once when it came from the rear instead of where the arrows were aimed before. The thudding started once more, coming at them from both directions and she gathered the silk to start her torch as the ground trembled underneath her and the trees shifted, attempting to form walls by weaving their roots above ground and leaning down their boughs to weave along with the adjacent trees. She was going to give them time, even if it pegged her as the target. The markings on her skin raced down to her revealed thighs and calves, circling around her muscles as she tried to accomplish two things at once.

Torienthos was still unknowing of what was approaching. She told him nothing about them beforehand, or even a warning as to their identity that he could put to use to figure out what would be best to kill them with. He thus, was left with the inevitable allowances that were his to put to use to survive against the unknown. There were quite the many faces of an enemy that he knew better to go up against. The power of warlords and necromancers for instance were of the sort to wield magic in ways that his own would not be able to equal. His tactics thus would have to rely upon more sneaky methods. Her words were heard from the treetops above, even whilst the sound of the approaching unknown were heard approaching from even higher up than his own purchase upon slowly swaying branches. Branches that would no doubt become one of those that were attached to the very trees that would come to the aid of the woman in the encampment below. Nor was it difficult for him to obtain means to disguise himself, to cloak himself in the darkness of shadows. To prevent himself from being perceived in the least of credibilities to even a magically enhanced eye depending on their skill or gifted powers. So it was, Torien would be unheard from at that point onwards. It was perhaps as if he was no longer even there, perhaps he had gone amuck upon a wrong trail or track in his endeavors to track the quarry. It though was unlikely, yet no reaction would come from him in response. Knowing not the extent of the creatures ability to hear and discern his location if such was picked up by their own senses. Her words were heard easily enough by his attentive ears. No arrow would be wasted upon them if such would do them no harm. He no doubt was perhaps fast enough to make the shot and strike true. But if what she was warning him was true, it would be near pointless to do so. He thus, let her lead in the occurings, for as far as she was making it seem, any attempt from him would be near futile. The game of waiting to see just what these creatures was was allowed to occur.

The wax was starting to shine upon the hide of the beasts, the shimmer was that, wax growing closer to the flame was no longer still but somewhat malleable. It was something that Dafina was hoping for. Even with the fear shaking her to the core, she stood her ground as the fierce creature signaled his victorious roar and dared her to look into his gaze. She quickly turned away, giving her cheek as both eyes clenched shut. The ground listened to her whispered plea and soon the trembling Earth shot stalagmites upward to the wretched being. It howled from surprise, but then that turned into an eardrum-bursting cry when the arrow pierced its eye. The sound itself sent the sorceress down from the pain administered in her ears, not knowing that Torienthos had taken his mark and hit the bullseye. Its brother was ripping through the barrier now on the opposite end, which Dafina now faced and when it heard that cry, it bellowed out in anger.

The injured Keltara clawed at his face, ripping into his flesh before taking a hold of the shaft of the arrow and jerking it out along with the milky substance of its eye. Blood trailed down in rivulets across its maw and it tasted its own vital juices while blindly searching for its prey. Trapped as it was, it had a difficult time moving from the stalagmites piercing at his flesh like spears. It felt the flames and tried backed away, unaware how close he was to the torch that Dafina had dropped when she fell and the cart and wreckage that was still aflame. Its sibling had already slammed its talons through the wood, splitting it into halves. Dafina's immediate reaction was to look up, but before she had realized what she had done, it was too late. Her eyes met the bloodthirsty gaze of her foe and it locked her in, pulling her into it. Lips parted and no sound came forth, no spell was woven. It stalked toward her after a sharp glance to the other Keltara. It figured she was the cause of its pain; it was partially right.

The heat around her caused her own skin to form a layer of precipitation as she knelt there, trying to move. The wind whipped around her, attempting to fan the flames to the creature. They did all that they could do, but the waxy buildup of his scale-like fur hardly began to shine from the torrid temperature. This one was bigger, its eyes were bulging and its maw parted to reveal its snarl. Talons glistened with the glow of fire light when it approached and boasted with a howl before her. Its meaty paw reached for her neck as she stared, using every bit of her spirit to shift the world around her. Flames were picked up by the gust, but instead of the creature who had her now in his grip, they fanned right over its already weakened brother. Quickly did the fire spread over it, sending the foul stench and the desperate yelps to fill the air as it struggled and pierced itself even more. She felt the Keltara's hold tightened as it watched in horror the dance of death its brother displayed. Torienthos was a man who had a good number of tricks up his sleeve. He would have set up snares and one thing or another ahead of time for instance to prepare measures that would be particularly useful at hindering their approach and making them all the more susceptible to being killed. Yet, there had been no time for such. Now though, that the creatures were watched, one dying from flames, melting even as its waxen outerbarriers fell away revealing one of its vulnerabilities to the logistics of his mind. There though, was a more prominent threat, that of his newfound companion being nearly in the deathgrip of the second creature. A hand was sent to the elongating branch that he was perched upon. Like a bird his feet were curled upon the branch with an acruity of balance that allowed him to remain perched with little thought at all even whilst he had been wielding and putting to use the instrument of pain that had so fouled the first victim of his aim. So it was, words were silently uttered into the air at his mouth, and barely a span of a measure beyond his lips would it reach, yet the chant was spoken, the magi was released to weave into the air whilst his hand sent those energetic vibes from his soul into the natural part of the world that he was connected to. The connection sent an eruption of euphoric dark blue eminating through the inner roots of the tree, some wisps of energetic lacings and weavings lined and wove through it's trunk as it headed in a sharp descent into the earthen ground. Another moment, the earth itself erupted with a tide of blood-soaked dirt, ashes from already settled flames, and laiden debris that had been separated from the caravan. The tide of earth erupted from beside the barricade she had formed to form with hastened intent into the maul of a fist, or perhaps some bulked eminence of a maul that would smash heavily into the creature with a weight of stone and earth that extended into the hundreds of pounds via the amount that was sent forth in that tide of movement. The drive of force would not stop there. The maul would pour over the creature in another moment, spilling around it, over it, concealing it in another moment as it took it from its very stance upon the wooden protection that it had been upon and slammed it in the next beat of a heart into the ground further beyond. Ground that did not part or give way but remained packed and hard from the party that had been walking upon it so with laiden wagons and such. Torienthos would look up in another moment from his invisioning. Eyes would lock upon the weave of flames that flickered and danced about in the clearing below. The bough that was partially penetrated and opened. The mound of earth that was several feet high where his enchantment had ended its path. A breath was slowly released from his lips in a slow vanquishing breath that would distill the air and return his own lungs to their normal rythmns of longevity. Moments would be allowed to pass. Let us say that he was still not sure if they traveled in packs, or if such a number was all that he would have to deal with that night. If such was the end, and it seemed safe enough, then he would begin his own descent through the treetops to check on her.

When Torienthos made his way into the clearing, Dafina shook her head and gained enough energy in her legs to walk to his direction. Both hands reached out for him, causing the bracelets to jingle lightly to announce her presence. Gently did they take his wrists as he searched for something to help her with this task. Silently, those eyes spoke volumes of a sadness that she was still desperately trying to keep under some form of control. Lashes descended and she exhaled quietly, whispers soon followed. "No, I...I will take care of this. You were involved and were not meant to be," the sorceress opened her eyes, though they were set downcast, unable to look at him directly. He placed himself in harms way, for a stranger. What he did was chivalrous enough that this task did not belong to him. "I never was able to thank them, or say goodbye," she released his wrist and gave her back to him to look over the bodies. Dafina, wearing practically strips of clothing concealing her, needed something to keep her out of sight, something that would blend her in with everyone else. Thus she cursed herself for having to disgrace the one woman of the caravan, now dead, but her attire was intact but dirty. This would have to do.

"There are no horses left.." She inspected the area while approaching the dead woman and kneeling down. She gave her a silent prayer while busy hands removed the surcoat she wore, which was hiding her gender and the belt, with its pouches, around her waist. Shakily, Dafina turned her around and reached for her eyes, trying to keep them closed. "It will be a four day walk to the the next town, but I atleast could put some distance between those things.." She pulled back now, surcoat in hand as she turned to face him. "Hopefully they do not cross these parts again, your forest...I am very sorry for what has happened here." The surcoat was slipped on, causing a bit of dust to lift up. She looked dirty, grimy, but perhaps this appearance will help her walk around without being bothered. Looking away, she turned to find something that would conceal her face. Soft chimes were still heard from her ankles and wrists when plucking a torn, hooded cloak from the body of another. Inspecting it closely, she frowned and then turned to the dead bodies.

Perhaps for him, using his gifts for such a mundane task was unnecessary, for her, it would make the task easier to perform. The longer they remained, the more danger would present itself. Closing her eyes she extended a free hand forward and the ground groaned underneath their feet. It began to dissolve under the mass of bodies, like quicksand, swallowing them slowly until no indication of a murder remained. Blood was absorbed into the soil...the useless weapons and the destroyed cart is all that remained. Charred and still smoking, there was nothing that she could salvage from this. It was only a matter of time before lewd thoughts might flicker into an acceptable point in time. Such occurred, if only briefly as she came to him donned in such scraps that barely concealed her flesh and curves. His eyes though, devoured her not. Politeness, or perhaps sensitive to the death that was around them, and moreso the sadness in her eyes afflicted him enough to restrain himself from thinking so wrongly of her in those moments. He though, would remain silent, and understanding whilst she took up the task herself. Gathered what she would need for the journey and tending to the task in moments following. Torienthos would not scavenge amongst the weapons and debris in those moments afterwards as he might have if she was not in such a state of remorse over the death of so many that she had come within the company of and caused the death of. His mind spoke then, the words delivered through the thin vise of his lips with the air of a warm breath that drifted towards her ears. "They could as well have died from bandits or some other random occurance as well as from this matter that you have brought upon them. Bear as well the honor that such creatures are dead, and will not cause similar harm to others in the future." He'd then head for the nearer of trees where he'd soon enough make a quick sprint in its" direction before his feet would pummel along the side of its base and send him in a pivot upwards along its ascending length until he was high enough to grasp for one of the branches above. Such he would use to haul himself up and into its whereabouts where he could commence a form of his own travel. "I will remain in your company and ensure you make it to this next village..if not to the end of your duties. If a horse has escaped from these people then I will find it and bring it to you for use." Torienthos" own cloak drifted about weighingly behind him. It was aged from use and wear. But it was still devotedly of use and kept him admiringly warm during the winters, and dry during the rains. It was of the sort that kept him even moreso concealed and at a state of resemblance to the surroundings he was in if it was similar to woodlands and whatnot, dark and earthy. He had been tempted to lend it to her for use in those moments earlier, but she was already of a mind to put to use that which the dead no longer would be. Something even he was of a mind to do from time to time. Nonetheless, it now continued to serve him. Bulking the appearance of his physique to a degree that kept his true potential and physical size hidden and discreet. Used for the better part to conceal his movements beneath its robe-like allowances as it was worn over the burl of shoulders bearing pauldrons that increased the hulk of his physique even more. The earth was as susceptible to her magic as it was to his own. Perhaps he was of a mind to use it in ways that she was not. The imagination and ones intelligence had a way of allowing one to weave magic and the uses of nature into ones use at ones will. It was perhaps the persons inclination to put nature to that persons use and set of mind. Hers was moreso a defensive mentality than offensive as was his own. Such was mostly suitable for druids he was able to recall, though not fully. It would be in later moments that he would be able to beckon forth a few discreetly hidden birds that would flutter about to pronounce their appearance. Their eyes and wings to be applied to the use of searching out the whereabouts of these surrounding woods to see if a horse was about that might have been able to flee from the death that was buried in the clearing below. Their wings would send a few of their presiding number to embark upon such a task for the purposes of lessening the ladies distance upon foot.

The cold was something she had become used to, thanks to the Lord of the Rain, whose domain was snow kissed during these times of the year. But, that didn't mean it was well welcomed. Dafina clung to the cloak and the surcoat adorning her, not allowing any air to slip in and steal a caress of her flesh. It was unwelcoming and the reminder was something she could live without. Her eyes closed and she started to take quick steps, wanting to step away from this already tortured land and the bodies buried underneath.

A part of her wished to be alone, if only to save another soul from a fate that was undeserving. She couldn't possibly run forever, but why take others with her on this path' It was selfish of her to want to feel welcomed, needed. After all she has done, she knew this was her atonement. It was his voice that snapped her back from this maelstrom of thoughts, a voice that she began to trust.

Quickly, her eyes widened and she spun to face him. Hazel depths were filled with tears that she wished to hold back dearly. Both hands came to his chest, where she curled her fingers into fists. "Don't ever say that, don't claim to become my servant. For I wish not that on anyone." The voice was hushed, low and the puffs of smoke left them with each ragged breath she took. She was tired, emotionally depleted and this was just a reminder of what she left behind. "I just want a friend," the confession came with a look down and away from his shaded visage. "Someone who can understand this talent, and can help me see this as a blessing rather than the curse it has been for many."

The sudden feel of his arm on her person weighed her down a bit. She felt the immediate warmth and satisfaction of being close to another source of heat. Instinctively, she leaned into his frame and whispered quietly, "The story that comes with me is one of betrayal, good Torienthos. Of frigid weather, of gifts lost, of death. The Lord I served caused pain and suffering to any that opposed him and denied him of his desires. A few of the talented became his tools. Some were poisoned in the mind and their logics twisted by the darkness he surrounded them with. I was spared...but only because I was the peace offering for my own land."

Dafina's accent was soft, perhaps from the tone she used. "I was his to have, after he noticed my power...and...other things," she dipped her head low, frowning from the shame. "For ten years, I didn't realize how much I had done, until the dreams began. No. Not dreams," she clutched Torienthos' cloak and slowly looked up to him, "They were nightmares, of the people damned by my talent." She took a sharp breath and felt the wicked wind at her back of her legs, tickling her ankles and causing the anklets to chime into the air. The music was light-heartening, despite the scene they were leaving behind.

For a few moments he was at a loss of words. Perhaps his determined expression would emphasize that he was sincere in the ability to provide her with companionship. Perhaps The fold of his arm around her would provide a residue of warmth and energy that would suffice to keep her from retreating any further into the solemn depths that she was nearing. He'd speak again in another moment or so when she was through. His tone quieter and gentle in its deliverance of his opinion. " So you were a tool..a puppet used by someone greater than you. It is most difficult to prevent such from occurring, and some may go through years of trial and tests to ensure that you were indeed not going along with his ways and have a mind of your own. But moreso, that you seek not to follow his ways, if such is so..then some will come to your aid and help you defy the wrongs that he has placed within you. Perhaps as well, you will find ways to comit to deeds which will replace the wrongs that you have done. And these feelings of wrongs will be atoned for." They were spoken as if from some dictation of a book where wisdom was found. At others he was speaking as if pausing for a moment or slowing his words to look into a vision, a memory of one thing or another to recall such tellings. When he was through, he would draw away from her, so he could look upon her with a sterning view and appreciation for the truths that she had spoken of. His hand though lingered about her shoulder as if prepared to return to it's half-embrace or draw away completely to return them to the path ahead of them. "Whatever the case, I will not mind aiding you for a time. Come..we can speak further whlist we travel, no ears will hear us that you should fear. Perhaps you can tell me more of your story..why you are here..and not still there..and perhaps of how you yourself were actually a part that caused such wrongs."

Pulling her own cloak around her shoulders, she inched closer to him, not for the sheer comfort of his words but the warmth he also provided from his being. She felt silly giving away her life story as they walked deeper into the woods, listening to the birds as they flew over head, the toads and chirps of crickets. Fingers clung to the fabric when she heard him speak up in his enigmatic way, not giving her a window to view what was beyond the darkness of his hood. There was a story there, though she didn't think herself worthy to hear. She was but a stranger, a sorceress lost in his neck of the woods. He knew his way around in this wilderness, experienced it far longer than she could fathom. This man had lives beyond her own, stories he could fill a book with. Dafina wasn't privy to any of it.

Lowering her gaze, she watched the dark grass underneath her feet as the shadows caressed her bare flesh. She could hear the trickling of water in the air with each step taking, the sound itself was making her throat itch for a drink. Turning her head, she picked up the location of the sound and knits her brows a bit before turning back to Torienthos. "I feel like a coward, to tell you the truth," she whispered, pulling away from him and the comfort of the cloak he offered her. On her toes she walked, a few steps before him and toward the sound. "I ran away from standing up to him, I keep running and yet have escaped," the accented voice melted into the cool breeze, which she was openly welcoming it now. It kissed at her dark cheeks and brushed along her neck with a few stolen gestures from the incoming gust.

"My people can make decisions, but ...I should help them, right' I feel trapped at times, because I am not sure what to do now. Do you have people like yourself" Are you tied to a land" Or free to roam without a tether holding you back?" Dafina looked from past her shoulder at him, sullen, hazel depths, stared at his figure. This mysterious fellow was accepting of her, despite the heinous crime she committed against innocent people. "I am still bound to them, because I am next to help lead them, I abandoned them," Dafina sadly smiled, "All for freedom," she whispered that bittersweet sentence and sighed, letting the chill in the air form a wisp of smoke to escape her parted lips. Lashes fluttered lightly and she abruptly turned her back to the wind, which was frigid now against her ankles and toes. But the sound of water was louder and the thirst did grow. If the direction they were headed for was that where the water was flowing, then they were no doubt backtracking about the general direction that they had arrived from. No doubt it was not the same path as she picked up the direction of such well after they had begun to head back into the woods from the clearing. Torienthos himself, relieved of her presence at his side, drew the heaviness cloth and linings of fur back over his left arm. The weight of it allowed to saunter over half of his body as if it were a curtain or length of a parted robe that would enshroud upon him the lurk of shadows and darkness that seeped more and more weighingly with the passing of dusk. His other hand remained gripped upon a hilt at his side that caused the leather of providing straps to stretch just so much from the pressure of that taut fist where it'd rest and add all the more pressure upon the sheathed blade thereon. It though, was not that of a sword of any length, but one of several daggers that were hidden upon his person. He knew not of her cold, nor if her words were even fully revealed to him in truth. She though, was on the side of victims to attackers that killed the innocent. Unless of course, the caravan was filled with those who were guilty. Such matters though, he would have to keep her company to determine the truths about. Nor would he voice his doubts. Rather, he'd reside in solemnity and the age of wisdom. Torienthos was half of a mind to return to the trees above where he would have much less to fear, such as another ambush that she would not know of or be able to warn him about. He though, remained in her tracks. Making unseen attempts to conceal her own as he pursued her, though it was still unclear if the trees were still parting before her as they had earlier. Perhaps the path had been widened the entirety of the way that she was destined to head. Or perhaps only so far as the caravan. And now they were upon a path of their free will. Hers, that led to the water. "Hmm..neh..my people are not my people. Nor do I tie myself down to friends and kin. There are several lands that I hold short ties to. Places where I have adventured, and where I have spent time training, as well as with lovers. There are as well places where I store things that I have acquired through the years. "You though..have a people you seem to still care for. Perhaps it would right the wrongs you have done if you returned to them, and saved them from further wrongdoings. But, if you are of a mind to remain upon the path you are on now, and continue to run until you have completely escaped"well, the choice is yours. You know your enemy better than I.?

As much as she hated to admit this, she didn't have a need to go back to her people as he clearly stated. But it was her home, the only one she had known before taken away. She had missed the smell of the clean air, the feel of the golden fields as she ran. It was all but a forgotten memory that she had clung to. Perhaps that is what it would remain now, a distant reminder of a life she longed to grasp and was out of reach. She started to walk around the trees and drew closer to the riverbed, frowning as she watched the moonlight wash over the brush and soft grass.

"I am scared that I will do something wrong again. I know for a fact I won't hurt another like I have done in the past, but as I move now, I am completely lost." She bitterly laughs and shrugs her shoulders upwards, feeling the cool breeze brush her cheeks. The world around her didn't respond to her as she made her way to the river's edge and lowered herself to her knees. The grass didn't brush her gently and cushioned her. Dafina was almost out of touch with the world around her, sinking into her own thoughts - troubling as they were. Her hands dipped into the cool water and brought it to her face, taking a drink desperately. A satisfied sparkle was in her eye as she greedily took another scoop and and brought it up to her once more. But, this time, she looked to Torienthos and searched for his features.

"Would you...stay with me in this next town" If we don't find a horse," she placed her hands on her knees, "If you desire to leave once I can find a means of travel again, then please do not hesitate. So far, you haven't left me off to fend for myself in the wild," and she was enjoying having someone to talk to, someone who could offer counsel. She shied from men, for the most part after the occurrences she had while under servitude, but he wasn't a frightening man, he didn't strike her as the kind that would bring her harm.

Neh, he was the sort who was stoic and solemn. His features hardest and somewhat mean looking, but at other times gentle and understanding. He escorted her to the riverbeds edge where moments were allowed to pass in quietness and the lack of distorting magi upon the natural habitat that would leave it as it was. A relief to him and his ethics and unspoken beliefs. A curl was persuaded upon his lips as she asked of him to remain in her company. For a moment or two he merely nodded with instant approval and agreement. Then he'd reach up to begin the unlatching of his cloak and hood. Both of which would be unfurled and scooped up before him so it would not descend and brush against the ground below. It then was neatly folded as if caring for it was a habit of his. Weaving it into a thick bundle of folded leathers that he would set upon the ground by the riverbed as well. Such he would then ease himself upon with a credit of comfort and relief. A small hint that he was not wholly reliant upon the natural ways of living, and minded not seeking some comforts of civility. The removal of the cloak in its own accord revealed his features, his hair. The darkness of his skin was darkened by the sun to some degree, but not overly so. Perhaps a feint ochroid in color that was allowed since winter had been the prior season and he had spent much of his time within the warmth of his attire. Elven traits were easily detectable. Not that he was fully of one lineage or kin in particular. But the high cheekbones were evident. The slenderness of his features. A scar obliging his traits with ugliness along his cheeks beyond the corners of his lips at varying angles. His eyes were narrow yet wide enough that the ancient brown depths similar to some feign of parchment were visible whilst he looked upon her, then his reflection in the water before him. Water that rippled and flowed with the slow gurgitation that was allowed with the flow that was meandering by and throught he distance beyond them. His hair was a long weave of curling locks. Dark and dried and matted to his skull from the weight and thickness of his hood being worn throughout the day. Bands of thin leather strips were noticeable within it, as if they were keeping portions of it bound or connected with one another before their ends were allowed to continue their natural curlings towards his shoulders below. A few feathers and stones were woven amongst such donning, dark greens amidst other earthen tones that were taken up from the very earth. If he was looked upon long enough, and from varying angles, as well as during particular portions of his talk and personality, the younger, handsomer side would be evident. Otherwise the stronger worn was easily apparent, though the wrinkles of aging were still not too well versed at the corners of his eyes. A hand set about the unflasking of a skinned canteen that was not large in size, but evident enough to serve a purpose and not weigh down his movements or hinder them in anyway. It was sent into the water for replenishment. His words meanwhile would flow forth, desolate yet wise, tired, yet still very very strong. "Then perhaps we should go after he who has been causing all of this, and find a way to put an end to his life. If not gather more of those who would aid us in doing such"that would be the most apparent way to right such wrongs. Though it sounds a most difficult path to pursue."

She felt the pang of shame hit her full on and turned away from looking at him any further. Never did she mean to offend him with talks of freedom, since she was ignorant as to what elves did in the wild. Dafina believed them to be free spirits, wandering and meandering about the woods without disregard to the humans in the cities. "My apologies," she finally spoke up, looking down to the rippling surface of the water, distorting the image of the moon in the sky. A shiver ran through her, causing her to look in his direction once more, but this time, careful not to give him a gawking stare. It was difficult, however, for her not to look him over a few times. He was something different, someone of a world beyond her own.

"One day I will have my vengeance, and avenge those that have passed due to his greed, his lust for more power," her eyes withdrew from looking at his wet hair. "I.." She looked away entirely, finding herself distracted. The burning sensation of her cheeks indicated the guilt she felt for staring at him in such a fashion. "I am sorry," again with the apologies, "I didn't mean to look at you in an offensive way," taking a breath, she dipped her hands into the cool water and washed away the heat from her cheeks. Sorrow was not forgotten, of course, she felt uncomfortable knowing that she survived and her friends had passed, that this elf at her side would possibly next to suffer. The thought provoked a frown and she lowered her hands to her lap, letting the water fall from her face. "There are many things I have yet to see in this life, it feels as if I am a newborn simply opening her eyes to this new world, for the first time."

Offering the warmth of a fire was inviting enough, making her sigh with the idea of something that would give her heat other than the dirty, blood-stained clothes from the fallen merchants. Bless their souls. "Would we be a safe here, Torienthos" Is it wise?" She turned to look in his direction, but not directly into his eyes...nor anywhere near his face. She focused on the chain-mail, the intricate fashion of the leather. Her eyes followed their patterns, the fasteners. A glance was given to her own clothing as a hand came to brush away the bit of dirt from her borrowed robes, "I am sure you can take of yourself, you are dressed for a skirmish, yet I am perhaps a burden if I can not focus on my talent, I wish not to become that after all you have done to help me." Tiredly, she lifted her gaze to meet his own. Her wet features glistened but began to dry, despite the chill in the air.

Dafina looked down to the pouch of coins around her waist, "I can walk further if you wish. Find us a place with guaranteed warmth, where you can rest in a bed," the thought of resting was making her weariness apparent. The back of her hand came up to brush the remaining water from her skin and she meekly smiles to herself, "Some mead to warm the body, a fire to stare into," she softly spoke up, longly. A woman brought up with fine things couldn't be too picky, since those fine things came from the blood and suffering of others. Freedom, though not as rich, was fulfilling nonetheless. Still, she couldn't help but daydream while swinging her feet before her, letting them slip into the cool of the water. She rested her hands behind her, allowing them to hold her weight up when leaning back to look up at the sky once more.

"Torienthos," she called out his name softly and looked to the corner of her eyes in his direction. "Is there a place you wish to be right now" I know it is silly, though would you amuse me with an answer?" Anything would do, anything that would take her mind off of what they just experienced. Anything that would help her see something other than the mangled, distraught faces and bodies of those merchants - when she closed her eyes at night.

The leather that was assembled upon him were not truly fastened in place. If there were straps or buckles that most armor required to be fastened upon ones body, they were not discernable. Nor would such be found attached to a single piece of his half-plate of studded leathers. The leather though would cast off the reflective moons" light that bounced off of the waters surface before and below him. Igniting a shimmering white essence that flittered and wove a fluidic course against leather that was of a strong reptilian hide. Upon the hide, with her so close, she could as well be able to discern the intricacy of a weaving pattern that had been engraved or even enscribed into the thick hide in an appealing artistc manner. Whilst her eyes fell upon such, a feint blue aura might eminate briefly from these weavings, if only for a moment or two before seemingly returning to the secretion of the shadows that lurked around him. The chainmail though was not so magically enhanced. It though was of smaller circlets than most chainmail. The ringlets woven amongst and through each other with a finesse that was of mithril descent and no doubt of elven design as there was the elegance of design in its appearance. If she followed it low enough, she would be able to take note of torn portions of it below his ribs. Where the lower portion of it had been torn away and merely hung over the bareness of smooth flesh beyond till the height of his belt wove about the height of his waist. Aside from his armor there were straps that bore his duo quivers on the other hand. They still remained jutting over the height of his broad shoulders with the appeal of arrows suitable for a lengthy bow to use for ammunition. There seemed not a single item upon him that was not darkened in color or dyed something that would erase his prescence from view and camoflauge him into the depths of any darkness. A curl wove upon his lips whilst he eyed her through the corner of his eyes. That corner that did not allow him to gaze upon her with the full ability of his sight, but with enough to discern what she was in turn looking at, him. Nor did he seem to mind. A few flickering tugs and spider like movements from his fingers meandered amongst the thick locks of hair that began to weave into soaked swirls and coils about him. They were flung over the side of his head as she inquired of him of this and that. A welcomed laced smile still remnant upon his features as he flung a few spatterings of water from his fingertips onto the waters surface before him. "My feathred friends will alert me to the approach of any danger with enough time for us to prepare for such an encounter if such were to begin. There is word that a band of greenskins might be about in this area, a hideout perhaps. They are one of the reasons I am in this area, to seek them out. They are no doubt a small affair compared to what we just encountered, but their prescense to the nearby villagers is a danger that needs to be dealt with by one blade or another. " A long breath was released thenceforth. A gleam enticing upon his eyes as he looked upon her. Perhaps some of the remorse and sadness afflicting her being felt by him in turn whilst he looked her features over. Her tears no doubt masked by the water from the river. His chin was sent to prop upon the sanction of leather at the pauldron upon his shoulder. Eyeing her for a moment or two further before he'd speak again. "I would like to be in this water myself. Its cleansing is rather refreshing as it is now..but to enjoy such fully would be an even greater leisure. Perhaps you should go first"I know your clothing is in dire need of such. I will gather some firewood shortly and see to the makings of a fire that will aid us in gathering some sleep. The closest Inn is too far for us to walk so late at night. Nor is there a need to rush to reach it. " "When you are done..I will take a turn, and see what fish have gathered to marvel at your visit to their world..and capture them for looking at what they should not be and turn them into food for the night." With such, he'd diligently rise up. He allowed his cloak to remain folded and impressed upon where he had been knelt so upon it. A few looks at the surrounding trees behind him and he'd make to begin eyeing into the darkness of grown grass and dried earth to seek out useable limbs. His eyes lasting upon her incase she had more to say or relieve of before he'd leave her to her privacy.

Everything worn on his person was foreign, especially since her Lord didn't wear armaments like this. He wore robes, long and flourished with gold threading. His chest was exposed but no one dared to strike him, they never got close enough to do any harm. Dafina couldn't help herself but look at him a few times over, trying to avoid contact with eyes, knowing that he could see the curiosity beyond those hazel depths. Her lower lip was pressed form firmly by her teeth when she thought how quickly he moved among the high boughs of the trees and yet carrying upon himself extra layers of protection. To imagine just how fast he would be without them made her smile slightly. Everything on his body had its place, working with one another in perfect unison. She had never seen craftsmanship like this in her lifetime. These armorers must have been paid handsomely for such work. Unique and fitted to his body it all was. When her eyes descended lower, she turned away, believing that the look of astonishment would be confused with perversion.

"Your armor is crafted by a most talented hand," she finally said, pushing away a some of her hair from her face and behind her ear. Finding something to distract her, to keep her busy, instead of continuously staring at the elf. When he mentioned greenskins, a shudder ran its course through her system and she faced him. Her eyes full of bewilderment now, "Orcs?" The voice was soft when she inquired, as if they were close enough to hear her. After what they endured this evening, she couldn't possibly face another threat. But he assured her it was nothing like what happened recently - that didn't do much to calm her nerves however. Uncomfortably, she looked about, trying to pierce the bleakness, nothingness, past the woven limbs of the trees.

Dafina did not notice his gaze, the sadness in her eyes was something that lingered there for quite sometime now, not only due to the fate of her merchant friends, but the complex situation she has placed herself in. Slowly pushing herself up, she turned to face Torienthos when he spoke up about leaving her to bathe and clean her clothing. To Dafina, nudity was not as taboo as one would think, since she grew up with topless women in her mother's presence, it was natural and not enticing. Though the exposure of wrists and ankles, the idea of having him see that made her turn away to hide her embarrassed look. "You think highly of my beauty," she frowned and bowed her head in his direction now, "I will not be long, I promise. I do not wish for you to do all the work and I reap the rewards, I will do what I can to help." She didn't want him to leave; she didn't want to be alone. But the sorceress knew that she would have to also depend on herself, hadn't she been doing that all along" It wasn't until he was already vanishing into the darkness that she exhaled deeply and wrapped her arms around her body. The garments were pulled away; they smelled of death, they smelled of men and woman that died. The wind whipped around her, sending her hair to fall past her shoulders and cool her skin immediately.

She pulled them free and let each piece fall to the ground, pooling her bare feet. Even the belt and coins came tumbling down, letting them chime of the currency to be heard. "I am thief, dishonoring the dead like that," she whispered to herself when looking at each article of clothing and gathering a few to take to the water with her. A glance to the moon was given and, in that very light, one could spot the tattoos snaking along her flesh, wrapping around her limbs and her abdomen. They offered her a lover's embrace, though it was not felt on her. The display was lost to prying eyes, since he had already gone now. It was her and the fish, which she had no idea if they were present. To the water she went, carrying the clothes tenderly in her arms. The rocks below were slippery but smooth, enough to make her slide and slip a few times. But she continued to walk until the water stopped at the top of her breasts. Blessed only by the light of the moon hanging high, Dafina worked at scrubbing the cloths as clean as she could possibly get them. She had never done hard labor before, though one could not call this arduous. Regardless of that, she tried desperately to get them as clean as possible.

A few times, she looked past her shoulder, mostly paranoid that Torienthos or his feathered allies wouldn't catch something creeping close, spying her, waiting for the moment that she was distracted long enough. It was difficult to remain calm, so she slowly descended, bending at her knees, to let the water swallow her. The murky water, the distorted image of the moon dancing on the surface of the water, the silence below, it felt surreal. A few bubbles left her nose and she closed her eyes, feeling her body give away. When she stood back up, a breath filled her lungs and the clothes were floating about. Her hands came up to brush back her hair away from her face, letting the wind nip at her cheeks. It was refreshing, as he said it would be, and for this blissful moment, she enjoyed bathing in the serenity of the evening.

In the trees higher above the watery surface that allowed the flow of ripples to quake with the additive of a womans" figurine disrupting its otherwise serene surface, a feathered being looked about. It's talons were more than chastely piercing into the stubborn bark of the trees" limb it was perched upon. Below it, it had a clear view of her movements, as well as a good birth of the side of the bed of water that ran in both directions. There of course were obstructions that kept it from having complete viewings of everything and anything beneath it. Yet, it was just one of those loyal to Torienthos. There were a handful of others, though not enough to be considered a flock as sparrows and crows are known to make. But perhaps a dozen or so who would flutter about from tree to tree as if in chase of one another. Their distinct movements sharp and brief when they'd communicate. Yet they were present. Occasionally they would erupt with a chorus of chirpings or museful antics that their humor proposed should be shared. Torienthos heard such with ease of course, one of them in particular was well trained to communicate specifically with him, and even to the point of landing upon his arm to be fed a treat or receive a petting. Such occurred after he wove into the darker surroundings of the woods once more. The flutter of wings no doubt able to be heard in the shorter distance as it settled upon the bulk of his leather vambrance and received Torienthos" silent words that were mouthed to the depths of the dark beady eyes. After a few moments of such, the sound of strong wings fluttering back into the treetops could be heard yet again, to settle thereabouts, and perhaps if ones ears were sharp enough, the sound of something quite smaller squeeling dismally for a moment or two would disturb the air as well before a later silence. Afterwards the praised elf would loiter nearby. He of course, wouldn't have minded remaining about to watch her bathe, all the moreso since she wouldn't have minded as well. Yet he was of some tradition or culture that wove respect for such matters to come about under such circumstances. The search for wood a most excellent excuse to excuse himself. Nor was he of the sort to chop down small trees or disturb the plantlife as it had grown in its natural state and surroundings. Instead, he treaded about with due care and silence. As if he were merely strolling about, though his eyes forever before and around him. An occasional fallen limb would be stepped upon or over, it to be inspected and obtained to add to a soon to be growing pile within his arms. An act that was a chore of his throughout the years, and the smaller chores and nuisances that came with obtaining wood were nearly forgotten as like the breathing of his lungs whilst his mind thought upon other matters. The sound of splashing and her movements in the not so distant water continued to tug upon his other senses, his other cravings that swept that wry curl to become a remnant upon his features. It would liably not be before she'd leave the water that he'd return, a small enough bundle to begin a campfire was left near the last tree he would step from. His eyes to scour the small clearing that held the few belongings of his he had left behind for a suitable spot. After another moment he'd lower himself towards the earth upon squatting haunches. His hands sent into an arce into the air before him, and over the ground as an utterance of breaths began to weave a course of a few words to the very ground before him. In the passing of a moment the earth made a bid to respond, and the soil began to quake softly and churn amidst the blades of stepped upon grass and weavings of debris that were upon the surface before him. In a few more moments, a suitable spot was formed of nothing but earthen soil wide enough to contain a fire for the likes of two people. Time would then be spent stacking the limbs amongst one another and the secretive use of tools from his belt that would spur forth the arousal of a flame in continuing moments that would ignite a different tone of illumination than that which the moon was allowing. He'd speak up amidst the darkness, his tone no doubt a bit weary from the days passing, and the use of his own energy to conjure forth the magiks he had that day to keep them alive. The campfire would no doubt not reach so far as the waters surface with its brightness, but perhaps to a small amount. He looked in her given direction nonetheless, her movements of particular interest as she seemed in a better mood as he was hoping she would be. ?"you are welcome to put my cloak to use until your clothing is dried. And you are welcome to take as long as you wish in the waters, the night is still quite long unless your body is fatigued enough to argue otherwise..?

Dafina was amused with the bird who took into consideration, or so she assumed, of her privacy. A small smile tugged at her lips when she pulled the clothes away from her wet frame. Delicately, they were strung on the bough of the tree, which was offered like an arm to her. The tattoos continued their languid glide across her body, intimately caressing the curvature of her flesh, around her bosom and arms, like a lover's gentle caress, it danced down her legs. She, of course, felt nothing of this, but anyone witnessing it would believe that she was wrapped in vines, a continues flow that grew with each limb it entwined around. Even along her fingertips, the markings gingerly wrapped around, as she adjusted the clothing. Her eyes were resting on Torienthos, watching the display as he turned away and spoke to the creature before him. When she was done arranging her attire, quick fingers reached for the cloak with one turn of her heel and placed it around her frame. It smelled of the elf, of the perfume of nature. She took it in, the warmth and aromas of the Earth before settling across the fire.

She knelt before him; her hands were placed on her knees and the cloak seemed to swallow her entire frame. Her body was hidden among the shadows that were speckled along her flesh due to the fire and the cloak on her shoulders. Watching him in silence, she didn't truly understand why her sights should not be casted upon the riverbed. But she nods anyway and looks down at her hands, hiding her wrists in the warm material. "I will attempt to do so until it is safe once more, but please rest for now," Dafina's accented voice was melted away by the crackling sound coming from the brush he had collected. The flame was comforting; something about fire calmed her, perhaps because it brought light into the darkness of the night. But her eyes didn't linger on the fire before her long, especially when the elf was starting to arrange a few of his armaments aside and took position to start his rest.

Hazel depths studied him, his features, his posture and the display of weapons at his disposal. After a few minutes, hoping he was asleep, she stood up and walked close to him, attempting to not make a sound. Dafina sat a foot or two away from him now and looked him over ,admiring his exotic look. Her eyes traced any scarring she could see with the flame's glow. A hint of a smile tugged at her lips whilst a hand peered from the cloak to reach for his hair, pulling a few strands behind his ear. He seemed so peaceful, this ranger, this warrior of the forest. A sense of calmed swelled inside of her body and Dafina felt content just being near him; she felt safe even as he slept.

But her stomach growled then as she sat there. They never went after any fish and she was left a bit hungry in the end.

With that thought, and the reminder from the pit of her belly, she quietly pushed off the ground. With her back to the riverbed, the sorceress stepped away a bit from him a few yards into the darkness of the forest. She looked around the trunks of trees and the bushes in the vicinity - but never went far enough that she could no longer see the glow of the fire. Her fingers brushed the moist ground near the monumental trees to watch the acceleration of mushrooms growing with the gentle coaxing of her gift. She plucked them, after a few minutes of forcing them out. Scooping a portion of the cloak before her, she placed them in her pseudo basket and then gathered some of the berries - which she instantly knew whether or not they would bring her body harm - and mixed it along with the mushrooms. This menial task, as minuscule and mindless as it was, gave her a bit of joy as well. Her hands held the basket close to her when turning around and walking back. Before her was the flame, dancing erratically to distract her gaze.

She looked to Torienthos and softly smiled before turning to the flame, but something beyond it was catching the corner of her eye. Now, he warned her not to look at the water, but did not mention why. She had forgotten his warning for a moment and looked out to water...only to have her blood run cold immediately through her veins. Eyes were wide in terror, especially at the few bodies floating by, lifelessly staring at the sky with a frozen grimace, a scream, etched on their faces. One was missing eyes, blood was creating a pool of its own around them. Dafina backed herself up against a tree...breathing shallow as her hands tried desperately to hold on to the food she gathered. Murder, carnage, death, pain, it was inescapable. These little moments of joy were easily shattered by an act of malice. All Dafina could do was let out a ragged breath as her body came tumbling down so that she landed on her knees - losing strength in her legs.

As he had told her, there was a particular reason why he was in these woods. The cause of those bodies was perhaps why. Or maybe it was something even worse. Either or, it gave him good reason to put off the fishing till another time. With the time that had passed between her bathing and the passing of the bodies, there would be some coincidental luck that enough time to have passed for the water to not be polluted by blood and other dreadful plights that might have tainted it. Before such an occurrence, at that point when she had knelt before him; amidst the moments he had begun his plight into the depths of slumber; his neck to chin and much of his lips would no doubt be surrounded by the mantle of chainmail amidst leather that was unfastened, yet puddled in its" endrapement around his neck awaiting use to conceal his features with the guise of a darkening mask. He though, did not need such in his state of rest and the darker tone of his tanned flesh was indeed visible now to look upon. All the moreso with the aid of the campfire that was beyond him that sent the continual flicker and rythmnal dance of flames as they ate away at the morsels of wood. Seeping and drinking amidst a swarm of charring blues and oranges which fed its" invisible presence. Anyone who fought with a blade, or in melee for that matter, with a given length of time would acquire a scar. The longer one lived, the more fighting would come about. With each fight one would of course come upon situations that would be near death. Or perhaps mortally wounding. Others perhaps able to get away with chance knicks and wounds that would heal yet would leave marks and lifetime reminders of the mistake that was made in its creation. Torien was more than a mere name. Its creation was by now well aged in his elven years. There were as well the explicit scars which were remnants of when his flesh was torn, perhaps a name that wove his future from birth. Amidst the handsome residue of his elven heritage; a handsomeness that could fawn many a woman and lead them into the woes of being seduced; the taint of scars did indeed exist. They were few, but they were easily apparent. The mask, when worn, would in turn conceal them from sight. Their cause was not blatantly obvious unfortunately, and their creation would perhaps unfold a few unspoken mysteries much like the rest of he who slept so easily before her. The scars though, were just that, scars. His handsomeness easily encompassed more of his visage. His bodily strength and built physique added to such a guise of structuring befitting manhood that surpassed many a normal elf. Her perception of him as exotic was perhaps quite true to even deeper depths that were not apparent to her still perceiving eye. It was not noted whether her shift of position would put her between him and the fire. Nor would there seem to make a difference if she did so in regards to it waking him. Like some, he knew how to enter the depths of sleep and pinion his mentality into the hastening of thoughts that ran amuck amidst dreams and recollections. The length of a darkened brown curl her finger moved was perhaps still just a little bit damp from his earlier refreshing. Enough so that would aid it into becoming a thickening curl of loose silken strands that would swirl amidst the pull of her finger as if to attach its" length to her interested touch. His ear of course might give the slight guile of a flicker or twitch as the tickling movement might be sent behind its" pointing tip that rose a span of several inches beyond its rooting at the side of his head. The apertures bearing rings and the dangle of elven icons thereon to be sent into the slightest of echoing weaves. Narrow elven eyes would rise to gaze upon her figure after the sound of her dropping to her knees disturbed his rest with the ease of he who trained himself to be keen to such sounds. The pool of darkness that his cloak wove upon her concealing the vines that he had caught glimpses of earlier from over his shoulder. The corner of his eyes had been still put to some use whilst spending moments speaking with his feathered companion. The scent of mushrooms and berries gave a welcomed addition of nature to the air. Yet, that dousing acridness of death faintly pursued it from farther off. Reminders of several matters fluttered amidst his mind, explaining with ease the sound.. His voice nonetheless was restful, and perhaps a little disturbed, yet still caring and offering the incentive of his advice." I do not know how much more of this you can handle"but if you seek to follow the path we have spoken of, it would be wise that you grow stronger.? He'd shift then against the tree. The weave of his arms crossed over his chest sliding one amongst the other where flesh and muscle tightened and coaxed amongst the other to a more loosened alcove amidst and beneath the broad expanse of his upper arms. The angle of a jutting spike that prortruded from the vambrance at his right elbow subconsciously being jabbed into the air beside him a few times in the process as if in some dejavu of its earlier use before his arms would calm and his head would lower his chin back into the ruffled layers beneath.

It was difficult not to feel the wave of emotions from the nights' events. She couldn't have predicted the death of her comrades, the monstrosities that appeared to hunt her down...and now floating corpses made their way silently upon the riverbed. Death seemed to follow her, endlessly searching to hit a weak-point of her soul. She vowed to not cause harm to other human beings, and even if this was not her fault, she could not help but to feel a deep sorrow for their loss. As she stood there, her eyes glanced to their corners at the riverbank. The bitter decay lingered in the air only long enough for it to be swept by the next incoming current; it was a blessing to Dafina to feel it against her cheek.

It was when he moved that her eyes quickly darted back to his figure. Raising her chin, the sorceress stood proudly before him, though she desperately tried not to shake visibly. Was he going to lecture her" Was he upset that she did not allow him to rest' So many thoughts ran through the recesses of her mind that she barely had time to react when his hands reached out for her. Her breath was held in for a few seconds when powerful hands pulled the cloak along her shoulders. But, while he did so, the markings along her flesh moved about, sliding away from the slope of her neck and shoulders when his hands came in contact with her. Hazel, tired eyes, stared up at him and words failed her - for she was not used to a caring gesture such as this.

Bowing her head, she listened to his voice and glanced down at his chest, not wanting to keep her gaze on his own. "I understand, Torienthos, I will trouble you no more," her own voice was barely carried with confidence. She, being a stranger in these lands of his, felt like she was becoming more of a nuisance with each passing hour. She was not molded to be a wanderer of the forest or a warrior. When her fingers clutched the cloak, once he moved past her and to the tree he was comfortably slumbering against before, Dafina began to shake slightly. "I will remain awake," the voice was stern, one from a woman who was determined to make herself useful to this man, this elven man.

"Perhaps, the reassurance and depth of emotion that was still existant in her tone allowed him to feel that much more better that she was safe from the troubles that were in these woods that night. And perhaps that he was one of the reasons that she was still alive. A diminuitive shrug unrolled from the slur of muscles that were woven upon his broad shoulders that spoke of quickly forgetting and forgiving any problems she thought she was causing him. To dismiss such faults and bid her further peace for the remainder of the night. IIt would be perhaps a few more hours before the edgings of the mornings rise of chill into the air would awaken him that came amidst the normalcy of weather and the winds. He without his cloak would stirr easily enough awake a few times to seek its warmth and the comfort that such an abundance of wool and leathers normally provided him. It though was not found in those depths of his subconscious where he forgot where he was, and who was nearby. It would come to his recollection after the chill in the air would stirr him again and again till he could ignore it no longer. His eyes sent to the ground around him as his hands felt it not in their hastened spree that ran spider-like movements upon the ground around him. Dafina would be found only moments after. The fire no doubt had waned to a quieter crisp and dimness in the night without someone to tend to it. For she who was supposed to be on watch was notably dozing off as well not too far away. His cloak no doubt had provided her more comfort than he had realized. Or perhaps the build of such strictening emotions had finally overcome her and caused her such an esteem of fatigue that she gave in and fell asleep. .]: Torinethos would thus usher himself forth from his perch against the tree towering high behind him. The ripple of muscles slithing amongst the flesh of his upper arm as he pushed himself from the ground with the twane of feral movements that would cause not a single noise as he eased towards her and ensured that the chill would not cause her discomfort as it had to him. The cloak perhaps pulled one way or the other to ensure it covered her appropriately to ward off such that was in the air."

Dafina clung to the cloak, not wanting to break it from her release. She was exhausted, emotionally drained, from the experience of the fort-night. She was at peace; her features were softened and gentle as the break of light fell upon her. She had stayed awake as long as she could, fighting back the desire to break down. No, she stood tall during the evening until just an hour or two before dawn's break. When Torienthos drew close, she didn't feel his presence right away, instead, she stirred and muttered quietly in her sleep. It wasn't until he touched her that Dafina seemed to be alerted from her slumber. Immediately, her hand came up to take a hold of his arm and she snapped her eyes wide open. It was a defensive move when the Lord of Rain would sneak upon her and stir her from rest - the only time she had isolated from him. Already the wind had picked up as she stared at Torienthos, fingers curled around him tightly but loosened when she realized who was staring down at her. Immediately, jerking her hand back, Dafina turned to lay on her back and shake her head, "By the Gods, I am so sorry.." her voice was caught in her throat, very low, as if she was out of breath. She slowly rose up, letting her dark curls fall around her features and she stared up at the elf before turning away to not be rude. It took her a moment to gather her bearings, since things looked so fdifferent as the sun washed over the terrain. Fingers clutched the cloak against her chest and she wore a bewildered expression across her features, "I fell asleep, oh no, Torienthos," that is when she turned ot him immediately, "I apologize...this wasn't supposed ot happen," the pleading look on her expression spoke volumes instead.

"Torienthos was lucky, perhaps, that she was not well versed with a small blade and its use. His arm though was quite terse and rigid with muscles. Tight and firm where flesh was actually visible. There was shall we say a lack of fat upon his body let alone on his arms. Half of such was contained in a vambrance and similar guards that led to his very palms. A cherishing curl doused itself alured upon the slant of his tiers as she stared up at him in that following moment nonetheless. The obvious closeness reminded him easily of particulars of intimacy. The softness of her voice fitting so very well with the same personality of hers he had met the prior day. Pleasing him that she was still of the same mind and not one who had gone crazed or wove amidst different personas. The temperature had dropped enough that the cloak would still be quite useful. It though, was not so low that frost would be on the ground or anything of the like. He nonetheless eased back onto his haunches near the fire. His attentions sent to its unkindled warmth for a moment or two before he'd slink his way around it towards the small bundle of wood that he had gathered the prior night. To toss a few random limbs upon the errant flames to give it a few fresh timbers to feed upon. Which he watched to ensure such would for a few moments before flitting his eyes once more upon her figurine just beyond. "No worries..if a threat came near my lil' friends would have awakened me before hand. You may sleep for the remainder of the morning if you wish. You are liably in need of such after yesterday. I need to scout ahead and discern the location of my prey..perhaps I will return with something to break our fasting and ensure you are suitable to continue our journey." "

With him being close, she didn't quite understand how it would affect him. To her, being close to someone meant being on guard. When she was touched, it meant that the Lord was hungry and she was the meal he wished to have. But Torienthos wasn't him, she reminded herself of this as she watched him and he moved away. Her heart felt as if it had stopped for a few seconds until distance was made between the two. She slowly eased herself upright, letting the cloak drape around her frame entirely. Hazel depths lowered to her frame and she walked to the fire. Her bare feet seemed hardly concerned with how cool the grass was between their toes. It was a wonderful feeling, this cool air. Crisp and fresh, nothing fouling it - yet. When he spoke, she softened her features and glanced to her clothes before turning her eyes down to him, "I will change before I fall back to sleep, though I had a bit of sleep, I wouldn't mind more," she honestly said this in a soft whisper. Walking to the drying clothes, she runs her hands along the attire, feeling how cool it was - but it could be that it was still damp. "I can continue, I shall follow you as long as you allow me to, to the next town," Dafina looked past her shoulder and then pulled the clothes free from the limb of the tree which offered it to her. Stepping back, she laid them out near the fire and bit her lip a bit. Her stomach growled, angrily reminding her that she ignored dinner and completely put it out of mind. "Perhaps I can have something to eat for us when you arrive, unless you had already had your share." That is when she looked to the location where she had settled down the mushrooms and berries. Oh, that's right, last night she had gathered them, last night ...just that thought made her look away a bit and drape an arm around her abdomen. She completely ignored taking care of herself the past evening, perhaps from shock. "When you return," she started up again, "I will be here waiting, Torienthos." Her brows furrowed a bit at the center and a hint of worry sparked within her. She knew this elf could take care of himself, she had seen him prove that.

"The thick lenghts of his hair had swayed to a still in the few moments he took to lurk before the fire. Allowing her to tend to a few matters and perhaps even himself to awaken even more. A hand was sent to his equipment that was still in its perch of a lean. THe duo quivers were pulled routinely onto his back till their weights were set and the jut of his shoulderblades were stretched and extended behind him as if they were a set of enlargening wings that could spread forth behind him with the ease of his will. None of course did, yet the stretch was warming and ensured that his arsenal was in place. Buckles and fastenings were woven along the straps that ran along the front of his torso in those following moments till the height of jutitng arrows became a familiar tower over each of his shoulders. A waned over the prescense of a wineskin that was attached to such as he checked his blades and that all fit upon his back and made not a noise when he'd move. He himself having finally risen to his booted feet as well in such moments of preparation for his leave that morning. Her words nonetheless drew the cure of an admonishing smile to his lips.-"I forgot how lonely it is to travel until times like this when I obtain a caring companion. I will eat whatever you cook up then and leave the critters alone this morning." There was a span of a moment or two when he felt the need to say more, or perhaps prolong his leave. Yet a wearying eye looked beyond her to the forests beyond where he knew a semblence of death was awaiting him and the blades that he wore that would bring needed justice to clear his conscious this morning and perhaps right particular wrongs that had saddened her and laiden her with further guilt. He'd thus take his leave if she'd have nothing more to speak with him of. The tussling lengths of banded thick locks of that richer brown weighed behind him in its dissarray. The wineskin nonetheless was left near the fire as if to leave it to warm and await her use. The contents richer and more plentiful than any wine could be.-"

She watched him move, this creature of grace. His armaments drew her gaze, how each one had its place on his frame. How his muscles were sinewy and everything about him was taut, tight and in perfect shape. Dafina remained silent when he silently stood up and prepared to walk away. There was a lump in her throat, not truly allowing her to speak up. She wanted to wish him good luck, but would that be foolish of her" She wanted to go with him, to help him, but she would become a hindrance. "I shall do so, I am not much of a hunter, but I can gather food," she tried to smile up at him, but he was perhaps unable to see much due to the mass of waves tumbling down around her face. Her hand wanted to pull away from the cloak, to take a hold of him and keep him here - safe, away from harm. But he had his duties...she had her own...and she would not dare to lay her hand on him in such a selfish act. When he moved past her, Dafina glanced past her shoulder a bit to watch him and then faced her clothes and the wineskin he left. "Don't get killed," she muttered to herself and moved to her clothes. Fingers ran over them lightly and she started to pull the cloak away from her frame. The sun was inviting, but the wind was chilled and her body immediately felt the suddent temperature change. Her hands went up to embrace her upper torso as she slipped to her knees, on the cloak that pooled around her. She had to work quickly to dress herself, especially now that she was left alone, she didn't wish to be caught bare. As for his friends, she knew that they would alert her, or so she assumed they would, if anything was amiss. But, Dafina learned to trust little...and trust mostly in herself, thus she didn't wish to wait for something to happen and not be prepared. The markings 'bloomed' along her flesh, spreading like wildfire as they kissed her mocha-colored curvature. The pants were slipped on first, securing it with the belt she had. They were comically large on her, hiding away any remnant of her feminine appearance. It only was worse when the shirt was pulled over her head and tugged down, showing the abundance of her bounty, the only indication that this body did indeed belong to the female sex. She pulled on the laces and tried to keep the shirt fit and warm enough that it wasn't going to slip down her shoulders anytime soon. With a stretch, she reached for the heavens and the trees seemed to have their limbs react in the same fashion. It was going to be a new day, perhaps even a better one. With a solemn prayer spread into the current of the wind...she bows her head in respects to the fallen and turns to the forest wall with one slow turn of her heel.

______________ Dafina was busy working the fire, keeping it going so that she could roast the mushrooms for breakfast. Since he left, her time has been spent in peaceful gathering and occasionally looking out to the riverbed. The sun glistened and danced on the tranquil surface, reflecting the blue skies above her head. The beauty had easily washed away the fearful image of the past evening. The blood had gone away with the shift in tides. It smelled of flowers, of the earth, invigorating for one such as herself. She freed herself from the bit of depression she was in to wander about, gathering the mushrooms once more, in the same fashion she had done hours previous. Everything was settled over the surcoat and arranged delicately along with the assortment of twigs.

The sorceress looked up to the heavens, the melancholy expression lingered for but a second before she glanced down to the roasted mushrooms and assortment of different berries she had gathered, all ripened, not one touched yet. The sorceress wanted to wait for his return to enjoy a moment eating at his side. With the wind at her back, curls brushed forward and down her shoulders, now naked due to the shirt being oversized for her frame. It was a quiet morning thus far, which prompted her to atleast enjoy a sip of wine from the skin he provided, to ease her for the long trek ahead.

What she didn't realize was the battle that was taking place not so far from where she was situated. A battle where the victor would come find her, whether it was an enemy or Torienthos himself. Minutes were passing by, her concern grew, and hazel depths looked ahead as she now stood up. Against the wind, Dafina turned to look at the direction where he had gone; it didn't take long for the gut-wrenching sound to reach her ears, carried by the careful gust. Her eyes widened and she stepped forward, hesitating her next move. It didn't sound like Torienthos, but Dafina had no idea what a guttural scream would sound from an elf. "Oh no," she whispered to herself and shook her head in disbelief. The idea that something might happen to him gave her a sinking feeling - surprising since she just met him - but he was her savior and was becoming a friend as well. "O' winds, bring me news of him, I pray that it was not him that caused such a sound to reach my ears," she reached out and the winds shifted around her, causing the fabric of the shirt to flutter about her frame before its direction changed. Her heart drummed in her chest and her breathing became shallow. She feared for him, for he was going against orcs, one elf against a horde of them. And here she was, useless and waiting - where she could be helping him. Anxiety was her companion this early morning.

"Perhaps it might have been possible to not be able to distinguish one guttural roar from another when the distance was so great. It would in turn no doubt alarm any distant patrols or additional compatriots that these fiends might have had sent elsewhere. His little companions though informed him that such was not the case. That there were no more to be worried about. The ride upon the river was both tranquil as well as intimidating as it normally was. The water dark that early in the morning with the remnants of dew and the mornings growth of fungi still upon the waters surface that concealed its inner patrons. It was intimidating to ride upon waterbeds where you knew not what was beneath the surface. Sometimes like an unknown abyss with depths to be feared, or lurking creatures that one had never been introduced to. The water though, was not filthy or wreaking of mud on the other hand, it was just overly shaded by the canopy of trees above and that drift of lillypads and whatnot that were most normally found and known to exist. A prominiscuous breath passed through his nostrils in another passing moment. Another swish from the salvaged paddle in his vised grip sent another soothing churn through water that turned white and fuzzy with bubbles sent astrew amidst ripples and waves that were ushered beside and spanning out far behind him. His mind though, was somewhat hazed, tired perhaps, or closed up and seemingly fully relaxed and patient as if there was not a danger in the world that would stir him from such a somber mood. Beyond the sight and scent of the campfire began to break above the rise of foliage and the fallen length of a tree that was still half-rooted enough to remain green. In a few more moments he would round the bend in the river, his oars sent into the water with hastening strength to increase the vessels speed until the front of it impacted the shore with a skidding slide of wood amongst shifting mud and grass just beyond. The clank of the paddle was sent to return to the floor before him. He then rising in an exercised movement of predatory stealth that erupted with a slight humor of aching from the position he had remained in during the length of the ride. Nostrils would shift as he drew upon the scent in the air of the food she was preparing. A hand shifted the mask of darkening mail from his features to let it ripple and shimmer to the base of his neck where it could hang about his collar. A smirk slithered onto his lips whilst that hazed look remained eminent upon his features. He'd wonder to the fire once again, crossing his legs beneath him as he'd retake up a seat he had warmed to the prior night. His voice nonetheless spoke with residual calm and a capacity to speak not of the unknown that he had been up to. Disregarding what flavor of crimson blood had freshly been sent streaking across his attire in splatters amidst a lengthy splash. The scent of such no doubt that tinge of iron and ilk of something worse than human. "It is good to see you still here, safe and well. When you are ready, we can head ownriver to reach the next village as you so seek to do.??

Knowing that he needed his own space, especially since just arriving, the sorceress retreated and pulled her hands away from his back. Downcast was her gaze, staring at her feet before moving past him and to the opposite side of the smoldering flame. She plucked a few of the berries and began eating them quickly, especially since her head began to spin from lack of nutrition from the few hours. Quietly she remained, on her knees, as her hands continued to grab one berry after the other, at times breaking away from its monotonous gathering to reach for one of the roasted mushrooms. A nod was offered to the elven male when he spoke up and she dared not to look up just yet. The curls of her hair were swept in the wind, causing it to bounce about her slender shoulders and dark visage, concealing the drained expression on her face. She had hoped that her reaction to his return did not make her seem weak, especially when it was he that told her she had to toughen up. Dafina swore she would, not only for his sake so she wouldn't be a hindrance, but for her survival as well.

When done, she quietly stood up and folded the surcoat, not needing it now that the sun was warming the area up. She drank up the rays and removed the merchant's belt from around her waist - since it would make it obvious to any thieves, perhaps lurking on the road, that she carried currency. "I am ready when you are, I do not wish to hold you up," finally, the sorceress lifted her chin and gaze to look at him. "The weather should remain as it is now, I don't think it will shift," she quietly stated this and finished disguising her face with the light cloak so it would conceal her identity. Though in these parts, Dafina knew not of the knowledge of the populace of her existence. But with her own problems trailing not so far behind her and Torienthos, she had to assume that she was easily spotted by her features. The markings had ran their course up along her arms, the slope of her shoulders and neck. Teasingly, they made an appearance on her jawline, spreading their vines along her cheeks uncontrollably.

There were flapping of wings overheard, drawing her attention to the heavens past the canopies of the trees. Several birds began to fly toward the West, when she traced the trail of the flock, she noticed they were not alone. A mass of birds were coming, as dark as the night themselves, a few miles off. Fingers reached for the bottom of the hood, tightly gathering it against her fingers and palm to shield her face from view and letting it shroud in shadow. There were thousands of them. Dafina knew this was not a natural occurrence and slowly withdrew her gaze from the skies to Torienthos.

"Are these your companions as well?" The sorceress lifted a hand and pointed behind him, toward the heavens. Not once had she seen anything like this, and knowing that they were in the river, exposed...made her worry about their approach. "It was not known to him that she felt ignored so when she had been behind him. With the arsenal of quivers and longer arrows that rose up beyond the breadth of his shoulders, then the sheathed blades that were attached separately to each quiver; there was as well no doubt a few additional pouches and whatnot attached on opposing sides of the blades, as if it was a customized backback of some sort, only without the huge satchel that most were known for possessing. She had put him into some concentration as to why she would move so behind him, and had merely considered it some derivation from her past with a relationship with another he knew not of. It did not seem to affect him when she came about to the other side of the fire. Any threat to him gone that she might even be of that deadly acting sort who might have slipped behind him to stab him in the back. Or even worse, the sort who acted so to steal from him. Ah, but such were just past delusions, things to remind himself of being able to occur when in reality he recalled well she was moreso of the sorceress lineage, and the trees were beneath her command. They thus shared the meager meal of a vegetarian with eagerness that morning. Nor would it take him long to consume such with residue of his hunger still overcoming him. A reminder that he would no doubt need more to maintain his prowress and strength. There were perhaps only a few remaining for him to pick at and pop into his mouth to succel and turn into moosh to tease and satiate his senses with what flavor she might have cooked them into with the aid of the fire and what she had been given on such short notice. He seemed not to mind them and left her more of the berries than the mushrooms out of silent gratitude. The birds were given his attention after she spoke of them. The depths of his ochroid hues sent in such a direction with a narrowing of eyes that turned towards sleeping slits to perceive and wince through. A twist of his lips awrily began his judgement upon the matter. Eyes teetered for a moment over their own heads. "Eh..is a good thing their way over there..else I'd seek myself some shelter..ya know they bloody dunno the difference between food and a pebble most the time and can't hold a pebble in worth nothing if you knows what I mean.." He didn't blame her for covering herself up. A smug curl lifted upon his lips in mild amusement and pride at seeing so many swarmed together so, it was a bit intimidating if not questionable as to the cause of such. Which could be anything as far as the normal person knew. "Bah..they're not mine though. Maybe all that tree moving you were doing yesterday caused them to forget where they put all their nests at and are leaving the whole area to find somewhere..safer." It was humorful to think about. Nor did it not make sense to him either. There was always the possibility of something worse. His eyes shifted then towards the woods, to see if a stampede was going to become imminent as well. The bared elven tips of his ears twitched for a moment or two as he concentrated so with their lengths that received sounds at particular different pitches if not capturing all the more soundwaves. Waiting then to see if he could hear such a commotion in the distance. He though, made no face that said he was afraid of such approaching. His attentions briefly shifting to the floating vessel at the riverside that he had brought here that would make an easy enough mode of transportation to avoid such. ?"If your ready then we might be best off leaving now then.." Another moment and he'd delude his humorous thoughts into more serious ones. His breath huffing briefly into a downwards sigh that was somewhat relieved. A few begging words pleaded with matters in an ancient elven dialect that would in approaching moments cause the ground to churn and sink into the earth beneath the fire as if it were quicksand. The fire, wood and rocks as one sank within the very earth that doused the fire, and ate up the smoke to leave a last wafing drift of smoke to fade from view between them before it'd drift above their heads ever so fleetingly. Torienthos would snatch up what items she'd tossed aside or put away that morning and began tossing them into the boat to ensure nothing else would be left behind that would leave a trace of them. Another moment he'd be heading for the boat itself to prepare to launch it from the earth. Waiting though to ensure she was either already safe and well braced inside of it, or was finished with what she would need to get done and enter it in turn.?

"Her touch upon his offered hand was felt soft and delicate in that lady like manner as it was received and put into use. The vessel only sunk a little further into the murk of mud and earth at the aforeend of the vessel whilst the back would only shift just a little this way and the other before leaning against the dock itself that would provide a stable enough balance to depart from. The exclamation of the caught fish was denied his attention whilst his eyes roamed elsewhere. Ever careful and watching amidst new grounds, Torienthos joined her upon the wooden planks of the small dock. The sound of aged wood creaking against the torment of being applied pressure yet again sounded hesitantly beneath his added weight. Weight which would be relieved in another moment as her hand was consolingly maintained within his grasp as if she were to be escorted further within the city and he was hers to protect for a time still further regardless of whether there was a reward for her in this village or another. There was a stagnant err in his walk, one that shifted his the strictness of muscles taut and tense against their separating leathers as he'd move at her side. Somewhat facing the sorceress, somewhat to face the village. Enough so to lean in towards her ear that lacked the concealment of a hood. As if to utter particular secrets or soothing if not encouragements for her manner to escape the nervousness of anxiety and douse her further amidst the ploy that loosed her chuckles the moment earlier. "I am aware of a structure a few moments away which will provide such a respite to your travels. After I am assured you are set I will take my leave to tend to my own affairs. Perhaps a night or two amidst such comfort will be enough before we commence our travels." He would lead her along a well-worn path of darkened earth that was amidst seeping vines that rose and threaded through the ground from the higher reaching trees that loomed around and even within the village itself. It was as if the villagers had no need to clear away the trees to make its existence but had moreso chosen to conceal itself within the trees security or providing of shade and other resources. There was as well a multiplicity of varying structures. There was for instance several small huts that were used for varying purposes. Huts laden with several layers of hay, branches and other natural makeshift encoverings atop walls of both dried mud or clay as well as the brazen framework of limbs and wood alike. There was as well the more secure structuring of cabin-like structures amidst their number that were larger in size and could no doubt be filled with a half dozen rooms or several very large ones that resounded with exponential sounds and occurring transpiring within their concealing reaches. There was as well a few similar structures off of the ground entirely. Based within the higher parts of the trees and off of the ground entirely. Not all of the trees grew so close together, but where they did, such buildings had been constructed. Tree houses that were accessible via both stairways, more secure rope ladders that were left exposed and noticeable, but retrievable and defensive if brought out of use. As she was led further into the village, a handful of children would scurry from their playing. Their shouts and calls already heard from a quarter mile away at the docks as they loitered and ran about in their own idle games and working out of puzzles that the adults were providing them amidst their errands. One or two of such began to pick upon The minds of the sorceress and Torienthos alike as if imposing upon them for advice to holler about to the entire world. Parents to bemoan and regret having such encouragable children to care for further within the abodes of their homes and their own chores or lazy manners. In the distance there was the sound of chopping wood echoing from farther off to enter and reverberate amidst the coils of civility that were resounding and participating in the neighborly area. It was noticeably not full of commerce or trade. Yet there was still the noticeable adornment of wealth and appeal to being of the sort that yearned to make money by one means or another. It was not a long walk at all before a structure rose up from the foundations upon the ground itself A two storied building that was of a size suitable to afford the entire village with a means to get drunk and eat heartily if they so desired. Perhaps only a church could boast of providing more room than it did for such a population. Nonetheless, the engraved doors of solid wood that would provide a solid enough barrier to withstand weather similar to the logged walls that it was attached to was grasped and pulled in his direction to admit her an entryway into the safe haven that she was so wondrously seeking to make useful. "Ladies first?""

His hand was squeezed gingerly, more out of nervousness than anything else. The sorceress kept herself close to him, wanting to hide in the shadow of his step and conceal herself in his cloak. Much like the elf, her eyes did roam about, gathering what she could from their current surroundings. Dipping her head low, the lip of the hood hide away her features behind it, exposing only thick lips that were pulled tight into a line. From the corner of those hazel eyes, Dafina watched the boat shrinking away from view the more they walked, side by side. She started to realize that she had no control over this situation - she was being lead into a place where she could be unwelcome, a place that was their last refuge until she had to take her leave once more. Her breath quickened and her grip was now vice-like, but soon, it relaxed a tad when he leaned forth to speak to her - attempting to reassure the sorceress, who was starting to tremble, at his side. The groans of the planks caught her attention for a moment before redirection it back to Torienthos, "Do you trust those gathered here" That comfort would so easily be sought?" She tilts her head in his direction, shortening the distance between their faces by a few inches.

"You will remain with me, until we depart?" She whispered softly, her eyes finally were revealed to him when tilting her chin up. They were dull, almost as if she knew that it was inevitable, but he couldn't always play the gallant hero - though his display of chivalry will not be so easily forgotten when they do part ways. A free hand fell to her chest, closing the cloak around her figure and securing it. For the last few hours, she had never felt safer until their chance meeting, as awkward as it was for a brief period. Though within those hours so much has happened, death shattered the friendships she built, and from the flames of disaster was born a new one with Torienthos. Lowering her gaze, Dafina kept her silent thoughts within herself as they walked the earthen trail side by side. When her eyes did lift to take in the ambient once more, she found a pleasant surprise before her. Trees were reaching to the heavens, shrouding the this town from sight from those who would look upon it from afar. A light smile formed when her hand left her chest to brush along the vines, letting them spring to life from her caress..for a second - nothing too noticeable.

The jubilant sounds of laughter filled the air as they were visible to those within. Gently, the hood was pulled away from her sun-kissed features as she turned her gaze to the heavens. Her lips parted with astonishment at the houses built upon the strong, sturdy boughs of the trees. Everything seemed so simple, so tribe-like. A soft sound of laughter passed by her lips as she continued looking about, staring, capturing all the images as to preserve them for memory. The winds brushed against her curls, sending them springing forth as she turned to look at him with a perplexed expression. Before she could utter a sound and inquire as to the name of this place, she noticed children running about around them, pointing and tugging, trying to snag their attention. Dafina leaned down, though still holding Torienthos' hand, to touch one on the top of her head. But the terrifying image quickly halted that sweet gesture. She had seen children dead, children that were deprived by the touch of her hand upon their lands. Her hand jerked back and she sucked air sharply into her lungs when the one child was beckoned by to the side of his loving mother.

Haunted by that image, Dafina tried to set her focus again on the cabins, these structures upon the ground. People lived there, and by the looks of it, they appeared happy, ambiguous of the world of danger that awaited them past these walls, towers, of trees. Slowly she walked, letting the elf lead on until he brought her attention to the two story building. Dafina cants her head for a moment and looks up at him once they approached the wooden doors. She hesitates. She falls silent. She stares at him. Then, the woman finally speaks, "I trust you," it was hard to speak such words to a man she simply met the evening past. But she was putting her life on the line, and so was he. This village could easily show hatred and disgust toward a 'witch' like herself, if they knew of it. He could wash his hands of her and bid good riddance along with his hefty rewards. But Dafina knew...that deep within...this was not the case. Something about him didn't scream betrayal. The doors were slowly opened by him and she quietly stepped through.

Already, she was assaulted with the sweet smells of incense filling the air above their heads. Her shoulders relaxed and Dafina breathed in a bit, feeling how it effected her frame. It was relaxing, inviting and mingling with a touch of tobacco. Slowly, she looked around the room, how everything seemed to have been handmade by the very materials that were found all around - wood, mud, clay. Though it was not something that was crafted by clumsy hands; these pieces were elegant despite the crude materials used to make it.

When awakening to the cool morning breeze, Dafina took in the sweet smell of spices that drifted through the open window. Her eyes opened to the day's light and she sat up on the bed, facing the window as the curtains danced about to the symphony of the wind. She slowly had turned to the side of the bed to find Torienthos...but he was not present. For a second she panics and looks around, hoping that he was somewhere in side the room itself, but he certainly was not. A small frown of disappointment formed and she pulled the sheets against her bare frame as she slid to the edge of the bed, dangling her legs there. He touched her, she knew that was just going to be a one-time-occurrence. Her heart raced when thinking about it, the feeling he introduced to her. Dafina never knew the pleasure of such an act, but he was not forceful in his behavior. Quickly, she shook away the thoughts and stood herself up, to her surprise, on the bedside table, there was a small coin purse located there. She had not remembered this one in particular - since it was not her own. The sorceress gathered it into her fingers and held it in her palm - it was quite heavy. Turning to look past her shoulder, at the door, she was half expecting Torienthos to come through, with perfect timing, to explain his absence and the money he had left her. Pain ran its course through her chest, thinking of the terrible thought that he paid her for her service to him last night and went about his business, leaving her here. It was something she had heard of being done, but never thought the elf would think of her as some harlot. Another thought was pushed aside; she was perhaps in shock that he was not at her side, that she was alone once more.

With the small coin purse taken in her hand, she went to the bathroom and decided to wash herself from the dried sweat from the activities along with anything that had smeared her flesh as well. Perfumed with oils, and dressed in the few articles of clothing she had, Dafina took the coin purse with her and left her own. Down the stairs, with her face slightly hidden still, she passed by the owner of the inn and gave him a silent nod of her head before she disappeared from view. The markings slither across her features as she walks outside, greeting the sunlight splashing down on her features. The sorceress stood still for a moment, watching children laugh and play across the way as they hit their sticks together. Some of the girls were planting a few seeds in the makeshift box on the windowsill of the shop. A mother fanned herself and supervised. She looked up from her rocking chair to Dafina and offered a light smile in greeting before looking back down to the children. She wanted to ask the woman if she had seen a tall, broad elf leave this inn, but she thought it would be best not to make herself so noticeable - hard to ignore someone dressed like herself, however. With a hand against her face, keeping the veil along the bridge of her nose, she started to wander about in the heat of the sun, but soon found the comfort of the trees' shade as they reached their boughs out, it seemed, to provide her with some relief.

Everything seemed to be quite alive here. There were the sweet sounds of the children at play, the parents scolding them, and the closer she got to what seemed to be a marketplace, she could already smell the aromas of those spices once again in the air. She was drawn in immediately and followed the dirt road to the location where a few stands were set up. There were bushels filled with vegetables and fruits, an assortment of colors and beauty. Large bags of rice and spices were lined up and on display as well. Dafina drifted from stand to stand, forgetting Torienthos at the moment and simply indulging in one of her womanly instincts - finding a good deal. Some folks were cooking full meals by fire, offering a purchase of freshly cooked breakfast or perhaps lunch. She had not checked the location of the sun yet to tell what time it was. Something else was assaulting her senses, the decadent aroma of incense. Dafina turned to the location it was coming from, a stand with a woman hunched over some of the sticks, fanning them lightly to send the smell in the air, in hopes that it would overwhelm the other delicious, enticing scents. Dafina caught sight of her and slowly headed in her direction. "I have quite a selection, please take a — " the woman was speaking as soon as she saw the shadow of the sorceress over the arrangement of incense but stopped once she looked up to the veiled visage. "Well that is quite a sight," she smiled warmly, like a grandmother would as she extended her hand forward. "An outsider in our little village."

"May I take a look at your goods?" Dafina softly spoke up and leaned down, looking at the myriad of sticks, lifting a few to take in the scent. The jewelry worn chimed lightly with her movements, catching the older woman's attention. It was a light sound, like windchimes swaying in the breeze. A few seconds of silence passed where the bracelets only created the gentle sound to fill in the void. "You smell of the Earth, of the wilderness," the woman grinned, "No oils can conceal that," she continued and noticed how the sorceress froze for a second before looking directly at her. She fell silent but the old woman continues, "Be proud my dear, for that perfume is of nature, of life. Why is one like yourself here?" Dafina didn't know what to say, didn't think it would be wise to say anything at all. Instead, she bows her head and reaches for the coinpurse she stuffed into her overcoat and pulled out a few silvers. She presented to her with an open palm, but the old woman delicately took her hand and examined it. The tattoos were coming to life, circulating around her fingertips and wrist. "Ah, this is indeed a sight, my dear, keep the coins. Child of the Earth." She curled her fingers over Dafina's and pushed her hand gently back. The sorceress bows her head, "Please do not tell anyone of my presence here, I ask of this one favor," she said in a hurry, hoping the woman would comply.

"I will tell no one," she went back to her incense and Dafina straightened up, taking her selection of incense and began turning away until the woman called out past her shoulder and the sorceress looked to her. "You can't cover up another scent on your flesh, my child," she paused and then frowned before her whispers were swept by the wind to reach the sorceress' ears, "The smell of danger can not be washed off.."



" A finely crafted arrow jutted expertly into the maw of a third orc, producing a calamitous spree of gurgles amidst groans of pain as his inner sanctum was pierced. The sharpened shaft of velocity impaling through flesh till an orifice soundedly popped through skull and flesh as it made an exit. The encarved swirls and enscribed elven runes catching against bone upon bone and slowed down the treck to remain lodged and protruding from both ends of the monstrosities head. Long arrows were suited to be twice the size of a normal bows' arrow. It was all the more a reason why they were able to become buried so much the deeper within. Toriens' arrows were self-carved, as was the custom of age-old elves who were experts in the art of fletchery as well as crafting the bows themselves. Their own strengths, creative inuendos and preferences in style and the very items that they were constructed with their very own. In these parts of the realms, he kept his quivers well stocked with arrows. For there was rarely a week or the passing of at least a few days that the enemy was not found, and routed from these parts; if not eradictated by deaths more lethal pursuadings. For further beyond these woods, were the very mountains where the demons and other allies that they were bred with spawned. Where their grotesque cities of chaos and evil were thriving. Where these forests were a known commodity that were sought for their forges, as well as the destruction of the very races that they used these same forges to destroy. Nonetheless, there were still plenty of arrows hovering over his back. Along the way to his destination he had intent to scavenge forth more limbs to replenish his stock, as was one of his habits. Another of these ensorceled shafts was drawn free from wanly lithe digits. Fingerpads bearing strengths of their own grandeur wove its' entire weight via their pressure alone upon wood over the burl of his weighing back and broad shoulder to let it's weight swoop forward to be caught by the jutting patience of a sole thumbs' grasp and the sturdy husk of his bow it clung to. At times he didn't exercise the full speed and dexterity that elves were known to use with true lethality, when it came to bows and their arrows. Such as now, when the small number of orcs were already dead and forming pools of blood and icor to drench the earthen ground with and allow the trees to get drunk upon the blood of their enemies. It was a small group, perhaps a patrol, perhaps another small scouting venture. Movement was watched for from Toriens' spot in the trees above. Tens of feet above the ground was more than a safe distance to be seen from by the casual eye. At a distance, he was one well exercised in blending himself in with the branches and rising base of trees. His attire bearing matching tones to the trees and leaves themselves. As if he had either not scrubbed his clothing free of the dust and brushed debris that came against him amidst his movements, or maybe had derived some permanent means of dying such tones into his leathers and other attire amidst some evenings lengthening draw of boredom. All below was notably silent for several more moments. Perhaps that was the last of them after all. If there was another, hiding, scared of death for some questionable excuse that an orcs pride was not known for. There was no aid from his feathered friends since the day prior. The day when scores upon hundreds of them had fled, migrated, or for some purpose headed anywhere but here. Such included the vast partiality of his own personal scouts, his eyes and ears in places that were most advantageous to have them at amidst combat, were gone. Now, there was just one feathered friend left, and he was a bit too lazy to feign the act of flying about left and right amidst combat, and more so had taken the liberty of staying behind in the village to keep an unknown eye on his newest companion. A smirk rose upon his chastising features, features that were indeed still bearing that handsome cuteness that appealed to many woman in his more vigil years of immortality, yet the scars and weathering of age were increasing, even as an elf, they were noticeable at times, but not nearly as bad as it was for humans. A brief span of silent moments was spent, weaving amidst the height of the trees to circle around the corpses below. Eyeing their sprawled and twitching forms from that vantage of a distance that he was more so used to perceiving things from than most. As he thought of such, his mind erred and became distracted with worryings over Dafina. He had left her his purse with a large enough amount of coin that would keep her well cared for with food, new clothing, and a good fortnights worth of holding up in the room she was in which was long enough for him to be away, and get distracted by random events before he'd decide it was far too long of a time to be away. He in truth was of a mind to return that same night. Yet, the distance he could move through the trees was much better than by the boat he had used to transport her to the village. But still, he was of the stern mind to ensure she would be taken care of incase something did actually happen. Ohh how her mind could be adrift with doubt and trauma when she'd awaken to find hm gone. He who awakened so very early in the morning, and thought it best not to awaken her, no matter how much his body was of a mind to protest otherwise by most obvious means that men were known to have. Nonetheless, the moments had passed, no more were found hiding below. He thus lowered, branches spied as they were approached. Spots suitable enough to bear the front partition of his feet to land upon met in the instant after they were found. The movements fluent, almost instinctual and most natural for he who traversed them on a daily basis. Acts of balance and usage of gravity and the lightness of his bodies weight. What meager belongings the fallen had upon them were gathered, small treasures sought that could be sold off at the village on his return. Items that could be of use by allies to aid in their defense against the very ones he was taking them from. Orcs did the same in the makings of their armor. Even now, the agile elf allowed his gaze to pass over the threshold of the fat body sprawled before him. Muscles were in a disfigured array of ill proportioned strengths and noticeable disfigurements either from prior battles or birth itself. Armor thus had all the more logic to be taken apart and worn where it could fit or be fastened onto. Such armor though, was normally found already in dire need of repair if not being useless altogether, and maybe, the best that some of these parts could be used for would be patchwork leather or melted down metal. But such pieces of armor were quite heavy to carry about, and brought in little money the majority of the time, as the smiths were quite cautious about handling diseased garb that was worn upon those who didn't bath, tend their wounds, and one truly didn't want to begin to imagine what other grotesque assortment of misdeeds they were up to in their encampment when females were not about. Nonetheless, that was that, and he had two caches of equipment to get to and bring back to the village. Perhaps it would take maybe two or three days to do so. A trip each of these days no doubt. An errand that would run the coffins of the merchants at the village dry if their season was not rich. In the same process it would provide them with a fresh arsenal of weapons and other items that they could put to use or trade off to the next caravan of merchants that would arrive. Perhaps if they did run out of money, he would lend them the supplies, and return for the profit another week when he would be due to return and ensure their well-being. Yes, you see, Torien was also quite the business-man. Why did he do all this" Did he have some dream ahead of him in life? Maybe to visit those famed pyramids in the distant lands that so many villages gossiped about. Ahh, so many dreamed of venturing forth to see them at least once in their life. It though, was so much more rewarding to enjoy what he had shared the prior night with Dafina. Such reminded him wholly of his purpose for living it seemed. It was not every day he found a gorgeous, so well-endowed woman stranded in the woods, unfortunately for him.

"You bring misfortune, though whether or not it will befall us, that is left to be seen," the woman chuckled while turning around to glance underneath her display table. Dafina watched in silence as the horror of her words, which were true thus far, spilled from the lip of this woman. The wind was bitter and unfamiliar, a stranger that graced her cheeks as it pushed past the veil. Turning her face to the skies, she watched the tree tops shift about with the breeze, reaching out to the heavens. The smell of spices called to her and the sorceress turned to the direction of the marketplace. It was a nice day for everyone to come out and enjoy themselves, but Dafina could only feel a chill instead of the warmth of the sun. This old woman could read her without the need to take off the garments on her person. She could tell by her body language, perhaps it was the display of tattoos on her person' If it was so easy for her to be deciphered, why wouldn't the woman warn the others" While she swam in her own thoughts and silent inquiries, children bumped into her and looked up with apologetic gazes. They meekly excused themselves, but not without letting their eyes linger on the mysterious folds of her surcoat, the veil adorning her and the flesh that was behind it.

"Are you hiding from someone, lady?" The young girl smiled and pointed up to Dafina's face as the boy, whom the sorceress believed to be older, reached for the girl's arm and lowered it, "It's not polite to point you know, she could be a leper or something." Their little banter made her chuckle and shake her head, "No I am not a leper," Dafina leans down to their level and smiles warmly. Their eyes widened when she got close, able to see the coloration of her gaze. She was not from these parts, and the markings sneaking around the side of her gaze was a dead give away. It appeared as soon as the children were staring directly, and so close, to her face. "I am not from this village, just passing through, though I am in need of clothing, would you two happen to know where I can find some?" The girl chirped and, without fear, took Dafina's free hand, "This way, lady. We will just give you a tour!" Overly excited, the girl tugged Dafina along and she smiled awkwardly while being lead around. It was a nice relief that she was so welcomed, it was something she had missed, to feel as if she belonged. Though this was a temporary feeling, the sorceress hung on to it just as much as these children were holding tightly on her hand and surcoat. The boy kept looking up to Dafina, tilting his head to see if he could catch a look at her markings, but looked ahead whenever she gazed down at him. With a few more paces and a couple of turns around several buildings, and she was nearby the inn's vicinity.

The shop was fairly small, a quaint building made of wood much like most of the places here. It was next to a trees that seemed to tower high above the rooftops to provide an adequate amount of shade. Next to it were other shops, including a bakery and a small market. Outside the store, a woman was sweeping the front porch while an older gentleman fixed the fence. Such simple tasks, Dafina had never had the chance to watch ordinary people do their jobs day in and out - especially not as of late. With a small smile, she turned away and wondered what it would be to just have something normal, like this. It was tempting to remain here a few more days, to watch and learn and perhaps even make a friend or two. Just that made her chuckle, it must have been loud enough because the children looked up at her strangely. "Well miss," the boy interrupted and brought Dafina back down to Earth, "We are here, I am sure you can handle it from now," he took the little girl's hand and smiled to Dafina, "Our mom is going to be upset if we don't get home, good luck." With that, they went on their way, leaving her at the threshold of the store. Up the steps she went, but not without stopping after hearing a faint sound carried into the wind. She ignored it when hearing the door opened and the bell rang and gentleman stepped out. He appeared to be in this thirties with deep wrinkles where his smile dug into the sides. He ushered her in once he saw the heavy coin purse at her side, "Come come, get out of the hot sun for awhile," he spoke in a low voice and glanced out at the incense in her hand. "A young lady out for a shopping experience, well let's give you one in our lovely boutique, come come.."

And, as Dafina entered, and the door was closed, the skies started to grow darker - but this was not due to the clouds looming above. The faint sound she heard grew louder but within the building, the sound was muted. Above the canopies, a few large birds, a scarce amount, flew quickly overheard and vanished past the wall of trees behind the village.

Blood streaked through the air before him. A gusher of the dark crimson fluid that erupted and flushed out over the burl of his lithe arm to spray outwards off to his side. Much of his upper arm and that side of his chest obligingly obtained a good deal of of that outward flux of spray and droplets that came with such an eruption and outpour of any fluid. Thus he began to be drenched in the ichor. Perhaps a morsel or small flab of flesh would be felt warming upon his fingers where the vambrances ended along the muscled lengths of his fingers that were fiercely wrapped about one of his twin blades. A moment was taken to realize that he was rather close to getting a taste of drowning in the mess before the flicker of movement was discerned in the corner of his eye. His left arm, the one left untainted, so far by blood, was sharply pulled inwards for a brief few inches before the velocity of muscles that were thriving on their edge of unison and predictable instincts drove its underhand grip upon blade in an outwards arce that wove the lethally sharp tip of his falcions' blade into the oncoming guts of another stalk of greenskin that began to obscure his view. The roaring that priorly deafened his ears suddenly collapsing as it was drowned amidst its own blood that curdled from the breakage of inner organs that his blade suddenly pierced and followingly twisted with the pull of his forearm in a forwards churn. His biceps to shoulders erupting with a fluid continuance of the wave that would not fall shy in maneuvering his blade into a hook like upwards thrust that sprung another leak of gore and blood. A moment was felt where the strong beating of an inner heart was felt erupting against his blade. It then divided and snagged on bone for a mere moment of hardening its' path. Upon that instant his blade was shimmied free whilst he lunged in the opposite direction. An attempt to either evade the collapse of the soon to be corpse, its blade that was still approaching to wack off Toriens head. Or to perhaps remove himself from another flux of blood that would leave him reddened if he continued this spree. Unfortunately, it was not over. A solid thud was felt as a tree was smashed into by his digressive movement. The solid stature of it a reminder of his bearings, and that his instincts played well upon where they decided to move during combat. He was fortunate not to step backwards into the blade or arms of another enemy instead for example. In that moment, a clear view was allowed, but just for a moment. Several bodies were already strewn upon the grown before him, all green of skin, some armored, some clad in more barbaric attire. Their number were not as large as a horde. Unless the horde itself was elsewhere. These kept coming, the others were further into the forest. He had kept coming upon small groups of them as he had continued moving onwards that day. They were easily enough taken care of. He though, had only so many arrows. Another onrush was felt spreading amongst their faces as a handful of them approached, slow, cautious, furious about their fallen kin. Proving an aold saying to be true as they were wanting full vengeance carried out. Torienthos barely huffed, barely felt himself tired out. There was that fringe of sweat upon his flesh, but not soakingly so. It was moreso the sort that came from the heat than the exertion and use of stamina. Such was common for him. He who was so very well exercised and routinely maintained his physique for such conditioning. To be prepared for such occurrences, such possibilities that would eventually exist. Battles were known to go on throughout the day. A soldier was thus trained to be prepared and conditioned to last the entirety of that day wielding ones blade, and several others upon your person when that blade was lost or broken. Nonetheless, an ignition of a scowl grimaced and caused surrept teeth that were canine and fierce unlike the more civilized perfect rows seen in high-elves and human nobles. A flicker of a snarl unlaced itself with a threat and promise of his lethality and ability to maintain his own that countered their own taunt. Another moment a javelin flashed through the air. A projection of jagged steel and darkened wood that was not made for perfect flight, careened off target above his shoulder. Soundly it bit into wood that chipped into his cloak. The wood elf was already springing off of its' secure source of foundation to add strength to his momentum and velocity. Catching the targeted orc furthest to his right in a distracted state of balance. Taking the initiative, his blades swept, one over the other in parallel positioning that tore through hide and leathers alike to send another gush of blood drenching the air as the earth pulled it downwards to drink. The clang of steel was felt jarring his muscles. Muscles that held firm as a wooden shield shattered and the sound of iron studs clanged and fell away to thud into the trampled height of grass blades below. The body would follow with it in another moment. He did not wait for it. Instead he became a whirl of movement. The aging dance of the elves amidst their music woven through and into the way they wielded their blades. He was facing another orc that was behind the first. Unexpected, overwhelming speed, dragging the held blade of his right hand forward, a thrust was sent through the air that was allowed to be given a moment to be parried. In the next his blade was pulled sharply forwards slicing off the timber like length of a thigh as well as bone. Dismemberment causing another outcry of agony to wrench through the air as his secondary blade deflected the orcs. And in another moment sent the same weapon disarmed, swatted through the air to be heard ripping through flesh and burying into an-others neck quite nearby. His primary blade allowed then to continue its' path. His back having been turned to face the fallen orc that was first killed, and now behind him. Another step and he was facing the second orc, that would be adjacent to it and still of that front line. At that orcs side his primary blade was sent through the air above where an ax was already in the process of being sent in Toriens direction via a wide arc of the two handed weapon that was intended to decapitate if not maim. Torien lowered in evasion, divining his aim as he withdrew himself from the line of the weapons arce, and sent his blade into the lowermost bowels of the orc instead. The gluttonous habits preyed upon and disembowed with the exume of stench and digestion that began to muddy the ground between its' boots as those yards of intestine began to spill forth. The sound of the axes weight heavy and sent with strong arms above his hair, perhaps a little to close, but he had to ensure that it would not be sent any further downwards. Toriens own reflexes knowledgeable enough and with enough ease that he timed it with experience, or some inner trained habit. This no doubt..would continue..for sometime.

The wind whirled around her like an incoming typhoon trying to ensnare her. Her curls were tussled and formed tangles as it whipped against her features. Hazel eyes were cast down as the shadow swallowed the beauty of the woodland and surrounded her, hovering over her until the swarm of birds became one solid figure, one that took form of a humanoid. These winds were frigid as they brushed her cheek, her neck and arms, caressing her heated flesh. It caused her gooseflesh. "That was a good idea," the words were filtered in the current of air as the figure stood before her. The flapping of wings ceased all together and she finally lifted her gaze forward. Her hair fell in curly layers over her shoulders, framing her features. He was handsome, with golden hair that flowed like wheat in the field, yet no wind current was brushing against them. Blue eyes cut through the space between them and sought her gaze. Upon capturing it, he smiled - but it was warm, kind. Ethereal in appearance he seemed to be, something sent from the graces of heaven.

A killer with a beautiful smile.

"We could have torn the place apart looking for you," his bittersweet tone was deceiving, but Dafina knew better. As he spoke, he moved with a fluid-like motion toward her, a grace that was unrivaled by most women. It was as if his feet barely touched the ground, and the grandiose display of robes was mostly to conceal any sight of his appendages. He appeared like an apparition as he went to her, an outstretched palm facing the heavens and glass like nails shimmering in the little light spilling from above. "Staged a disaster, as if a plagued had fallen on this quaint little village, but no, we wanted to wait until your little guardian was out of sight," that is when she started to back away from his advances. His cruel, lovely smile, was acidic to her. Torienthos, how she wished for his presence and was thankful he was not here. She didn't want anymore bloodshed, but it was something she could not run from. Her hands were stained, and she now looked at them briefly as he continued. "But he is being entertained for now, good thing, we would have had a mess," his white hand fell to her cheek and he gently brushed her skin.

She hated his touch, it was too similar to the man she was taken to. To the man that took everything from her. Her fear climbed through her body in a torrent of trembles. She was frozen before him now, unable to bat away his hand. His enticing aroma was one of battle, it was saturated in his flesh. So when he touched her, she took it in and shuddered. Within seconds, he was standing before her, looming over Dafina as his other hand reached for her face and he forced her to glance up. "You are going to have these people slaughtered regardless, I can tell by the lust in your eyes," she spoke quietly, trembling words spilled from her soft lips, lips that were nearing his own. "Yes," he whispered softly as the darkness of his robes seemed to spread around them. "But I wasn't going to let you see, they will be useful as the dead. Make them animated, wait until your little companion arrives, and turn him into one too. Doesn't that sound wonderful?" he was against her ear, grinning as she stood there, stunned. "I will go if you spare them, all of them. Torienthos included, Marius."

Marius released her face and walked behind her, studying her almost. He knew she could invoke an attack from the ground, the air, the trees. He knew her skills, he has watched her work from a young age. What stood before her was no mere child, not anymore. It was a woman of power, a power he wanted to suck right out of her vessel. His chin rested on her shoulder and she jumped slightly as he spoke, "I will let them live, but you have to do me a favor then. I came all the way out here and shed not an ounce of blood," his lips twisted into a smile. Dafina curled her fingers into her palms and closed her eyes tightly, "What is it, you monster.."

"Well, my darling Dafina, kill Torienthos...and save a village." " There were always prices to pay to redeem yourself. To save yourself. To save your hopes and dreams. Prices that would weigh upon your lifes' substance. A price that one would sacrifice ones self-respect, ones honor, ones dignity, ones pureness and righteousness. A price that was a deal set before one and that was not to be negotiated with unless extreme circumstances were to be taken. And these were knowingly not the best choices. After time, these sacrifices became nothing. Ones self respect, honor, dignity, pride and righteousness were allowed to be reatained. Much like the very structures that businesses and accomodable ventures of finances in larger cities well-established fractions set into rules. They were perhaps sufficable from life itself. It was an age old saying, " What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger." Nor does it take decades to recover or recuperate. Such sacrifices are not like becoming a vegetable from some mortal wound. For with the passing of time, things change. And time passes quite quickly. But not nearly as quick as it does for the gods. Nonetheless, a village was just that, a village. The hopes and dreams of several dozen people now rested upon the shoulders of Dafina. A small number compared to other measured burdens placed on the shoulders of others. Much, much smaller. The villagers themselves were liably of the sort who lived and died in the village itself. Maybe some of the venturable guards, or adventureseeking youths of the village might seek higher life expectations that are not able to be reached in the village, but otherwise, the villagers were of low productivity. Dafina though, had not done any research, or held any conversations that would hold any meritable knowledge as to the importance that the village might hold to society in surrounding areas. It could perhaps, have some abundant surplus of herbs that were not able to be harvested in any other nearby lands that were vital to the longevity of one cure or another. And if the village was decimated, let us say the cure for the most deadly of cancers was to be no longer of use. But Dafina knew not of the consequences of what her decision might produce. She knew not the weight that was upon her shoulders, save perhaps, that the bareness of the lives of others was upon her shoulders. What her decision was, was up to her, and her wisdom. Nor was she aware whether Torien was even able to be resurrected, such a power, such a spell, or gift from the gods something that was not so easily traceable through the ages, through the stories woven over fires and hearths and songs of bards that traversed through the lands and picked upon the minds of secretholders. Torienthos on the other hand, knew well of his powers, knew well of the beings, creatures, allies, and sequential alliances that were woven through the depths of nature that could be called upon. The full turmoil and catastrophic abilities that could be brought forth and put to use to completely decimate the forces that were before him. Why then, did he not beckon upon such. Why then, did he not bring more of such power into use. Why, did he not seek the help of others, others who could astonish the normalcy of human intellect and harness the rewards of conquering his foes. It was, perhaps, in a religious aspect, a question such as why Jesus did not call upon the angels to take him off of the cross. Nor did Torienthos feel a need to call upon others to come to his aid when he was gaining ground, and sure enough keeping the village secure from danger for the time being. How long would he be able to continue such. To continue sacrificing his chances, his luck, his blessings before wrongs would begin. Before a weighing mistake would be made that could not be covered and cause him to keep his ground, and not lose it to some unwanton extent. It was perhaps, a reliance upon his abilities, a reliance upon his faith, a reliance upon his strengths and woven experiences that had chiseled well into his being and caused him to age into such a derelict of secreted supremecy. Perhaps, if such continued, he would prevail, and the mass of orcs would retreat entirely and give up their plot to pillage the village. Or, perhaps, Dafina would give in, and come to aid the orcs in eliminating him from the equation. And in turn, perhaps allow the orcs to become a means to doublecross the deal that Dafina was making. They though, were an unknown faction of the equation that she was about to solve. An unknown faction that always existed in every circumstance. One that was either to be dealt with quickly or allow to transpire with little regard.