Private Tales For King and Country

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Yvaine would never tire of the sound of his whispered sweet nothings. Only, they were not nothings, they were everything, his voice a sweet tonic, soothing her mind body and soul with warmth, and love, and hope. She hadn't known she could love so deeply as she loved Faulkin, nor that anyone could ever love her as he did, but it was that alone that made her certain that no matter how fear set her off course, she would find her way back to him.

The night air cooled her bare and sweat slicked skin as she lay tangled with him in a bed of roots and grass, her lips pressing a trail of slow and tiny kisses across his chest, ensuring she drew out every second of this stolen time.

"I wish we could stay.." she sighed as she looked up at him, pressing another gentle kiss to his jaw. "But I think Tor is looking for us.." she laughed under her breath. "We should dress, or we'll give the poor man a heart attack should he be successful in his search." she smiled.
 
Not a single moment's passing meant a thing.

But each and every moment, meant everything.

This was his love for her.
​

Her skin against his, her breath and her lips, she drew from him those things meant only for her. The gentle trailing of his fingertips against her slick skin, his smile reaching down to press against her lips as she looked to him.

"I know..." he whispered, feigning irritation with Tor's potential meddling with an embellished sigh. He chuckled some, and ran a hand through her hair.

He studied her, his eyes betraying that tired smile that tugged at his features, and he sighed an almost sorrowful sigh with the mention of her beauty on his lips. It was as though he felt he could not love her enough, like he feared he had not enough time or … worth. Yet, she loved him anyway.

But really there was only one thing he was afraid of - that this was all just a dream. But if it was, then he would hope to never wake.


He looked at her with a smile as he fastened his final strap, a smugness on his features. It wasn't that he particularly enjoyed getting dressed again instead of the risky alternative, but the fact that they had to, he did.

"We're lucky to not have been spotted yet," he teased as he hazarded a look around, or heard. The grin he wore said what his voice refused.

Yvaine ​
 
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Yvaine laughed softly as she tightened her lace and tied it. She doubted the men were fools and it was more than likely that they had been respecting the couple's rare moment of privacy. Her cheeks warmed, but she would not apologise for taking such moments when possible. They were heading down a road where nothing was promised, where tendrils of darkness coiled out toward her mind more and more each day. She was certain that Faulkin had been the very thing that pushed it away, that it had been he who grounded her and shielded her with so much love and warmth that no darkness could touch her.

She picked a few strands of dried grass from her hair as she approached him, a hand curling around the nape of his neck as she kissed him in a way that was reserved for such times when they were alone and not in the campfire's company. A heady sigh tumbled from her chest and she bit down on her lower lip as she smiled.

"I love you." she told him, her cheeks still flushed and warm as she turned to walk hand in hand with him, back to their companions.
 
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He hadn't the time to respond before she placed her lips upon his, but he knew he need not speak it with his voice. He said it with his arm around her waist, with his hand softly running down her arm, and with the weight in his eyes as they finally drew apart. And he knew that he would yearn for a moment like this again until the next, and then again until the time after that. Always, now, could he hope for this escape with her, for this peace she gave to him.

Then they left from there, and all the while he struggled to keep his attention on the road, frequently looking back to her with a smile. He couldn't help but be unphased by the dreary landscape around them, in fact he almost ignored it altogether.

She was dangerous, or so he concluded when he had once again realized where they were.

Before long the campsite their company had assembled came into view, and the meager light of the day began to wane.

"Just in time," he said with a smile as his eyes caught sight of it.

Yvaine ​
 
Her mind was quiet, and no shadows played with her mind as they made the walk back, their movements the only sounds spearing the silence that seemed to have long since settled over these lands. Soon, the voices of their companions found her ears and she smiled with a soft sigh. She still felt foolish for wandering off on her own, even if the outcome had been far better than expected.

"Here they are!" a voice from the camp called out, drawing the attention of their companions. All eyes turned toward the couple as they stepped into the clearing, a few quiet grins exchanged among the group.

"We were simply awaiting your search party. Sadly, they failed miserably." Yvaine smirked.

She turned to Faulkin with a squeeze of his hand. "I should speak with Tinuviel.." she smiled, a soft blush on her cheeks as she slipped her hand free of his and tucked a tress of hair behind her pointed ear. She wandered through the little campsite and found a spot next to the elf immediately rushes to her, licking at her chin before curling up in her lap.Yvaine smiled fondly, scratching the fox's ears as she turned her attention to Tinuviel.

"I believe you have much to tell me," she stated, her tone a mix of curiosity and expectation, ready to hear whatever stories the elf had to share.
 
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Faulkin nodded, and returned her smile with one of his own, admiring her as she took her leave of him. He was planted in place while he watched her go, shaking himself back into the present only once she'd moved out of sight. He turned to make his way toward the camp's centre, and was abruptly stopped when he suddenly found a particularly broad fellow standing just there in his path.

"Well now," Tor gruffly rumbled, speaking less as the trusted voice in the captain's ear, and more so the mentor, "where have you been?"
Faulkin looked up with a grin, and his lack of comment said all it needed to.

Then, taking on those more formal roles, Faulkin did speak, "come. We have much to discuss."


Drennantor had plenty of elf folk who had come and gone, but most had seemed prudish or proud in the face of most humankind. Tinúviel was an oddity to most of Faulkin's soldiers, for an elf. He was far friendlier than most, Yvaine's company excluded, and quite sociable. As some would come to suspect after learning more about him, this likely had come with his age. When Yvaine did arrive she'd find Tinúviel in the midst of several men and women gathered round. As she approached, he smiled to her and beckoned her to come near, and he continued to tell the ending of what sounded like a magnificient story - something about the Shattered Star.

"But for now, the Captain has returned. You should make ready to hear his orders."

With some reluctance, those gathered there agreed, but insisted that he continue his story when they had more free time. He agreed, and then sat there by the small fire with Yvaine.

"I believe you have much to tell me..."
​
Tinúviel studied her, examining the resolve in her eyes. His gaze was piercing, cold and yet, kind. After a moment he canted his head one way, and then set his eyes upon the fire, remaining contemplative and silent. It may have seemed as though he was uncertain on how to respond, and this was true - if only partially.

A breath.

"What I believe to be for your ears comes with a heavy burden," he said, his eyes unwavering upon the flame. His features took on an almost solemn stare, and he continued, "but much is still quite uncertain."

Yvaine ​
 
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Yvaine's gaze remained steady under the weight of Tinúviel's examination, his piercing eyes holding a complexity of emotions that intrigued greatly, and that might have unsettled her were his presence not so much of a comfort.

A breath. And then he spoke, and the solemnity etched onto his features hinted at the gravity of what he held back.

Yvaine's expression shifted, a mix of nervous anticipation and understanding. She took a moment to absorb his words before responding with a determined yet gentle tone, "Uncertainty has become a familiar companion on our journey..” she smiled softly.

As she spoke, Yvaine instinctively brought the nestled fox closer, her little head nuzzling at the slope of her neck as though she understood her companion’s need for familiar comfort. Yvaine’s golden eyes met Tinúviel's, reflecting a readiness to confront whatever burdens and uncertainties lay ahead.

“As much as you can tell me. Please.” she insisted quietly.
 
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With a blink of his eyes, his expression changed, and gone were the lines of grief and dread. His features became quite plain for a moment as his eyes fell to the ground near his feet, and then they lifted to her and a smile found his lips.

"You speak with a wisdom beyond your years, Yvaine," he bowed his head to her, and placed a hand upon his chest, "I am humbled."

He drew in another breath, and gently nodded his head - to himself it seemed - and he began to speak as he looked into the fire again.

"It is said that the Order of my people rose up in the ashes left by the War of the Gods long ago, taking up their benevolent charge against the darkness. With their departure, from the sky descended a great gift..."

He described what he knew from written tales, of a great light, falling through the night sky. It was this event that had prompted the first of his kind to depart from Fal'Addas, and travel into the eastern Falwood. It was written that they found there the Shorai, the great crystal upon which the Aerai have bestowed such reverence. And too, it is written, that is was there that they first met the Patriarch.

"To the first of my people, it is written he appeared as kindred to us," he motioned with his arms and hands in an expressive way of the described features, "but it is said he appeared not as flesh, but as... light. And then, when he spoke, it was not with any spoken voice that he communed with my ancestors. It was through his thought."

And so this entity became a teacher to the first Aerai, instructing them in the ways of faith, leadership, and even war. It was this being who taught the Aerai to arrange their culture into the benevolent warriorhood, faithful to the Celestial Pantheon, that they would remain to be throughout their continued existence. It was also this being who gifted upon them the magics of heightened telepathy, and it was also responsible for teaching them their most intimate magics, and creating what they called the Shoraes, their collective consciousness.

"A great deal of history is lost after this, but what is known is that the Patriarch did eventually appear to us in the flesh. He became known as Finwë, and though we do not know much about him, we know that he was part of an ancient allegiance that defeated a great evil. I fear now that they may have been unsuccessful, and we may be facing that same evil."

Yvaine ​
 
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She did not feel particularly wise. If anything she spent most of her time confused and questioning her past and her path ahead, and so when Tinuviel complimented her in such a way she laughed under her breath and gently shook her head, but she wouldn't offer any argument. Tinuviel was wise, and he was a comforting presence, though she could not quite pinpoint why precisely.

She listened intently as the elf recounted the ancient tales of his people, his words carrying the weight of centuries-old lore and prophecy, and as Tinúviel's expression softened and a smile graced his lips, Yvaine couldn't help but feel a surge of admiration for the elf's resilience and humility in the face of such daunting times.

Her attention remained riveted on Tinúviel as he described the celestial events that had shaped the destiny of the Aerai people, and she conjured with ease the image of the great light falling from the sky, illuminating the darkened land, the significance of the moment not lost on her.

Yvaine's breath caught in her throat as the weight of Tinúviel's revelations settled upon her. The possibility that the ancient evil they faced now was the same that had threatened their world eons ago caused her chest to tighten. If Finwe had been unsuccessful, perhaps she had been foolish to trust a hope the dark plague could be defeated. Yet, intertwined with the fear was her own determination and her brow furrowed. It did not mean they could not try.

Her voice, when she spoke, carried a quiet resolve, her eyes meeting Tinúviel's "At least we do not face it alone." she smiled softly and sighed as she settled back, turning her gaze to the fire as she absently drew her fingertips through Juniper's soft fur.

"I think I've seen it, the Shorai. In waking visions and in dreams. I've seen much that I don't understand." she frowned, glancing at him. "There are voices in my mind that weren't there before, but there is a darkness too. I'm afraid I'm leading these men to their deaths, but it's the only path that I can see.."
 
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Tinúviel studied her as she spoke, the duality within her not lost to him. There was a great strength in her, and willingness to move forward and do what must be done, but there was also the fear and doubt she struggled with. But then, her admission of visions and voices brought to him a great, although vague understanding. He knew not exactly what she had seen and heard, but he knew such mental intrusions were of no small consequence, and often of no small meaning.

"The Shorai shows itself to those it calls to," he said, "but it rarely speaks, and only ever of good things, or the paths leading to them."

He was quite curious, but even more he was compelled by his desire to help however he could. And the more Yvaine had unveiled to him, the more he began believe what he had suspected for some time now, and to understand the significance of their paths crossing. There was something to her, and likely the good captain and his men as well, that had some great part to play in what was to come. He was not so foolish as to claim what, but he had his suspicions.

"Perhaps, if I were to see what you have seen, I could help you to understand?"

He spoke not of a lamented wish, but of an actual possibility. He could see what she has seen.

 
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Yvaine's surprise was evident as she realised Tinúviel's potential to see into her visions. Her brows rose in a moment of astonishment, but she didn't question him. Instead, she nodded hesitantly, offering him her hands as she sought guidance on how to proceed.

"I... Do I just...?" she asked uncertainly, her fascination evident in her voice. Her eyes closed as her hands settled into his, a sense of anticipation building within her as she awaited the connection.

In her mind, Tinúviel would witness the haunting dreams that plagued her—the same dark, winding path that she had taken night after night into the twisted forest and the red eyes of the beasts that hunted in the darkness there.

He would see as she had in Itae's home, he'd hear the whispers mingling with screams of fear and terror, the flames that she'd seen consuming forests and settlements, and the word "Aeraesar" echoing in her mind. He would see the vision of the city in the mountains and the vast wasteland that surrounded it, and how the ground had seemed to heal as she walked across it.

He would witness her journey into the great city, and how it had seemed to decay before her eyes. Her approach to the forge stone, the warmth radiating through her as she reached out to touch it, only for everything to shift and shatter into chaos—the cracked stone, the dead elves, the throne room transformed into a scene of horror, and the nightmare creature that stared directly at her.

As the vision unfolded, Yvaine felt a surge of fear and helplessness grip her heart once more. The demon's grip tightened around her throat, and her eyes snapped open, returning to the present moment. She gasped for air, her heart racing as she met Tinúviel's gaze, her hands trembling slightly in his grasp.
 
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Tinúviel took her hand in his as she offered it, and focused his mind upon hers. It would not be so intrusive as a true joining of their minds, but such was not needed in this case. Instead, Yvaine would feel Tinúviel's presence, though it would feel far off and far from intrusive. It would be a comfortable mingling of their minds - and Tinúviel would see with clarity. He saw as she had seen in her dreams, hear as she had heard.

Being inheritors of great telepathic potential, the Aerai trained their minds diligently from birth. It was a tremendous part of their society, and their affluence with it was essential. Because of this, the ability to detach one's self from another's deepest thoughts was a carefully honed ability. But even Tinúviel, one of the oldest and wisest of his kind, could feel what had permeated Yvaine's thoughts.

As the vision subsided and their eyes met again. Though he seemed far less afflicted than she and retained his calm composure, Tinúviel shared with her a worrisome expression all the same.

"These visions are of no small consequence," he stated, "but there is much in them to unravel."

He withdrew from her and reached for a drink to hand her.

"You see Sharyrdaes in your visions. You see it all as it is now, broken. But..." his mind went to the healing of the land beneath her feet, "... I see also hope in your vision - great hope. Only, it rides on the outcome of those you see in the end."

He knew the one well - Arkhivom. A vicious and exceedingly dangerous enemy who is the cause of Aeraesar's decimation. But the other - the female.

"I know little of her - only that she makes him stronger. Of the two, I believe she is more dangerous."

There were other things however - the cracking of their great forge stone, the Shorai, the countless death of his brethren - and the demon upon his throne. These were things that were greatly disturbing to him, and worst of all he could not know which of them to be the greatest of evils.

"I must dwell on some of these things, but I believe that whatever it is that has led you to this place will unveil the things you seek. I will continue to follow you and your good captain, and I will defend you until we find your answers, for I believe they are answers that I too must have. Come to me again after a time, and I will tell you what, if anything, I have learned in my meditations."

Yvaine ​
 
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It was a strange sensation to feel the presence of another in her mind, but Tinuviel was easy company and despite the memories that she relived, she felt at ease, if not intrigued, during the process.

Golden eyes slowly opened to meet his gaze with a solemn smile, and Yvaine took the drink offered by Tinúviel as her other hand was quickly reclaimed by Juniper, the comforting weight of the fox's presence grounding her amidst the uncertainty.

As Tinúviel spoke of her visions and the challenges they faced, Yvaine's expression softened with gratitude. It was a reassuring thing to know that he would continue to follow them, his presence a literal beacon of light in the darkness that she felt growing around the edges of their little group.

"Thank you.. That brings me great comfort." Yvaine told him softly and glanced around at the familiar faces in the flickering firelight of their camp. Whatever her purpose, she hoped they'd each survive it.

"The whispers are quiet tonight. Perhaps I might rest a while." she said as she turned back to the elf with a soft sigh, not caring to hide her weariness from him. "Let us trust in that hope you speak of." she smiled warmly.
 
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"The journey has been long, no doubt all of us could do from a reprieve... I believe we may find it here, for a time," Tinúviel mused as he cast an observing eye over the encampment as she had.


While Yvaine had gone to seek the council of Tinúviel, Faulkin's own council had been sought by those of his company. They'd established themselves quite nicely, but they were still so vastly unaware of what these lands harboured. What was clear, however, was that this was a harsh place, one that was likely filled with many trials.

In light of this, it wasn't until all of their company had come through the portal stone that he was going to give any further orders. In the meantime, they were to hunker down in their camp, such as it was, and rest as much as they could. They weren't likely to run short on supplies for some time yet, so they could afford to remain where they were.

So after making sure the word had been spread, Faulkin went to the center of camp where a great fire roared, and overhead the smoke vented out through a great gap in the canvas above. He sat there, and around him there were several others, and they welcomed him with a drink. While they casually conversed, he sat quietly with his drink idly in the grasp of both hands as he looked into the fire.

The revelations their travels had led them to swirled around in his mind, and he as they spun about he tried to grasp at them for understanding, but this eluded him. He began to realize how in over his head he had become, and though he did not question their path, he questioned his ability to lead them through this. The likes of Olwynn and Tinúviel were a great boon for their chances - but he was a simple man. He had no great powers, he could not see the future. He could not heal others, he could not read minds. Yet it was these things that had proven so prudent for their journey.

He'd not noticed the frown that had fallen over his features, and only when his focus broke from the fire and cast down to the ground between his feet did he realize, and a sigh escaped his lips. But when he lifted his eyes again, and looked to those around him, he was reminded that while he did not have those abilities, he still had something that was perhaps greater.

He turned his head, looking across the camp to where Yvaine was.

 
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How many times had she watched him from afar? Even still, despite the looming darkness of the path ahead, she felt the flutter of infatuation, the same sheer adoration that swelled in her chest so entirely that her ribs ached. There was a quiet intensity about him as he sat by the fire, his thoughts seemingly distant yet undoubtedly heavy. Her gaze softened with empathy, her love for him radiating in the gentle curve of her smile and the concern in her golden eyes.

When Faulkin's eyes met hers, Yvaine felt a rush of tenderness flood through her. She couldn't bear to see him troubled, not when they had already weathered so much together. Setting Juniper down with gently, she rose, pulling a blanket snugly around her shoulders against the evening chill as she approached with careful steps.

The firelight cast a warm glow over her features as she settled beside him, the crackling flames dancing in her eyes as she leaned into his side and looked up at him. Her touch was light as she brushed her fingers against his.

"What troubles you, my love?" Yvaine spoke softly, her voice a tender melody in the quiet night.
 
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He hummed as she came and sat close to him, and he took one hand of his mug to wrap his arm around her as she she leaned into him. He smiled, glancing down at her, the worry in his eyes having now been long whisked away.

"Only that I am becoming far too comfortable here."

He joked of course, for this place in Shekketh was far from hospitable. Still, as harsh a place as it was, if it was all as seemingly quite as where they were now, he could almost see himself becoming used to it all. And as he thought more and more, he found himself imagining what it might take to tend the land here, what it might be like for...

He stopped himself. He looked down at Yvaine again, more intent in his eyes now.

"Quite comfortable," he smiled, and placed a kiss on her forehead.

Yvaine ​
 
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Yvaine's smile mirrored Faulkin's, but beneath its surface lurked a shadow of concern that she could do nothing to hide. She felt the tension, the weight of unspoken worries lingering in the air between them. Her heart ached with the knowledge that he carried burdens that he chose not to share, perhaps to shield her from their weight or because he feared he couldn't.

As Faulkin placed a tender kiss on her forehead, Yvaine's chest tightened with a pang of apprehension. She longed to ease his troubles, to offer him the solace and support he needed, but she would not press him if he wished not to speak of it. The path they treaded was fraught with peril, and she couldn't blame him if he had second thoughts.

With a gentle squeeze of Faulkin's hand, Yvaine leaned into his embrace, seeking comfort in the warmth of his presence. She longed to voice her concerns, to share in his burdens and offer him the strength he needed, but the words caught in her throat, stifled by the fear of what they might reveal.

Instead, she buried her worries beneath a facade of reassurance, her smile faltering only for a fleeting moment before she forced it back into place, drawing her fingers over his jaw, his beautiful face wearing the flickering glow of firelight so perfectly.

"I'm with you.." was all she said as she nestled her head against his shoulder with a sigh.
 
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"I'm with you.."
​

That night, as he lay beside her in the privacy of their tent, he could not find himself so easily to sleep. Not yet at least. He couldn't help but watch her for a while, to see her so peacefully - or so it seemed - in her dreams. He couldn't stop the memories flooding by, of seeing her passing by through the castle's corridors, or sitting alongside her uncle at the main table during a feast. Always from afar. Always looking to her.

He placed a final, gentle kiss on her cheek before he settled himself in, resigning himself that it was time to sleep.


Renewed fortitude and courage were in Faulkin's voice in the days after. With compassion and strength did he lead, as ever, and as faithful as always did his company follow. Fully reunited at last, they'd finally taken to seeing what these lands held in store for them. Most of the company departed into two comfortably bulked scouting parties, commanded by Alwin and Tor. Faulkin remained at camp with Yvaine and a handful of others.

As nightfall in Shekketh approached, it seemed all the darker with far fewer swords at their side.

Faulkin stood near the war-tent's opening, his arms crossed over his chest. He looked out into the flat plains ahead, seeing far from their elevated place. Yet there was no sign of their parties.

"Its getting late," he said.

Yvaine ​
 
Yvaine stood just outside of the tent, her eyes scanning the land for any sign of movement. The silence was unsettling, the encroaching darkness more oppressive than usual. She wrapped her arms around herself, not just to stave off the chill, but to contain the unease growing within her.

"They should have been back by now," she said softly, her voice tinged with worry. She turned to Faulkin, her expression mirroring the concern in her voice. "They shouldn't be out there after nightfall."

Her mind raced with possibilities, each more dire than the last. She knew these lands were treacherous, filled with unknown dangers that could easily waylay even the most seasoned scouts. The thought of Alwin and Tor, along with the men under their command, facing those dangers in the darkness sent a shiver racing down her spine.
 
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No, they shouldn't, was his mind's reply as his eyes scanned the darkening horizon. And though he was worried for those he had out in the wastes beyond, there was a greater worry that pulled at his own heart. This worry was only heightened with the fact that Olwynn and Tinúviel had each tagged along with one party or the other.

He'd played all his best cards, and left little in his hand.

All the more reason for him to hope for haste in their return, either party let alone both of them at this point.

And then it struck him - the sensations washing over him, the coolness that seemed to wisp across his skin, lifting the very hairs on his neck and arms. The growing tightness in his chest, the shallow depth of his breath. The subtle darting of his eyes. The quickened pace of his heart.

Fear.

Had he grown so reliant on those who were now far from his side? Had he grown so accustomed to their skills that he saw no merit in his own? Did he still have the same heart beating in his chest?

And then another sudden realization fell upon him light the weight of a thousand stones. It forced from him all thought and feeling of all trivial shortcoming, all menial nothings that pertained to only him. The Captain rose up, pushing aside the fear for what it tried to be, and listened to it for what it was telling him, and it spoke to him loudly.

The quiet. Not even the gentle shuffling of horses hooves that should have scuffed at least a half a dozen times by now.

"Something's wrong," he said, turning to her.

Yvaine ​
 
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Yvaine's heart clenched at Faulkin's words, a chill blooming across her skin as his concern mirrored her own growing unease. She nodded solemnly, her eyes darting anxiously across the darkening landscape beyond.

"Yes.. Something's wrong." she repeated, her voice barely above a whisper.

"We can't wait any longer." she said, her voice firm despite the tremor of fear that lingered beneath the surface. "We have to go look for them." she looked to him, unable to hide the fear in her golden eyes.
 
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He nodded, his own eyes betraying the same subtle fear but he refused to let it shake him. Resolve burned as blue fire in his eyes, and a smile slowly lifted his features. Looking at her, feeling the strength she gave him, it was all he could do not to smile in even such a time as this.

That was until his gaze lifted just up over her head, and he saw it. The reason for the utter silence.

It felt as though his heart stopped.

His eyes landed on an armoured figure, who without his noticing had stepped out from beyond the far side of the tent. It lingered there, frozen mid stride, staring directly at the pair of them with eyes shining red past its ghastly horned helm. In one of its clawed hands it held the severed head of one of Faulkin's men by the hair, and the other set of clawed digits hung lazily at its side, dripping with blood.

Yvaine ​
 
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Yvaine's breath hitched as she followed Faulkin's gaze, her heart pounding in her chest like a drumbeat of dread. The sight before them froze her in place, her mind struggling to process the horror unfolding in front of her eyes.

Yvaine stifled the sound of a quiet whimper with her hand at the sight of the severed head in it's grasp, a man she had just spoken to some hours ago. Her other hand tightened around Faulkin's, her fingers trembling as they clutched onto his for dear life. Fear surged through her veins, threatening to overwhelm her, but she forced herself to remain steady, to stand firm beside him in the face of this nightmare.

Her eyes locked onto the armoured figure, its menacing presence casting a shadow over their small camp. Her heart plummeted at the realisation that the monstrous figure before them resembled the very nightmare that had haunted her dreams. The pieces of her vision now seemed to fall into place with horrifying clarity, and a cold shiver ran down her spine.

"Faulkin.." she whispered, her hand slowly falling to the small blade she carried.
 
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He betrayed it only a little, but there was a hesitancy in his step as he moved forward, just putting himself between Yvaine and the creature staring them down.

His mace hung on his hip. His hand reached to it.

The creature stepped. Sideways ahead of them, drawing only a little closer but staying many meters away.

He pulled the mace free, up into his grasp.

The creature stepped again. The head in its grasp fell to the ground with a thud.

And then the sound of many voices atop one another came forth, quiet and encompassing, frightfully horrible.

"Twin...kle," a step, "twin...kle," another, "lit...tle... star."


"Blast this damned dark!" cursed Alwin, rearing up the reigns and bringing his horse to a halt.

They'd ran into a little trouble a few kilometers back. A bridge they'd deemed good enough to cross proved only just so, and when they'd returned to cross back over they found it in shambles. Finding another route across the river took them far longer than they had hoped, and now they found themselves misplaced in an unknown land.

Out in the midst of the darkened, dusty plain beneath an overcast night sky, Alwin hated to admit it, but they were lost with little sign of any landmarks... what landmarks?

"Olwynn..." he turned his gaze to her as her horse trotted near, "help?"

Yvaine ​
 
"Light protect us.. Let this not be where our paths end."

'Don't be afraid, Evie.'​


"If you would be quiet for just a moment perhaps I'd find us a way out of here." Olwynn chastised, the sound of the boy clamouring around in the dark doing nothing to help hear anything at all. The elf huffed, turning over her shoulder to peer at the human. "Can't hear, can't see, can't navigate. Babies, the lot of you." she muttered as she returned to his side to reach for his horse's reins, attaching them to her own.

It was particularly dark here, even for Olwynn. With only a sliver of moon, a ghastly grin in the sky above, there was little to illuminate their obstacles, but she could see well enough to make out different shapes and shadows.

She'd just been about to degrade him yet further when there were snarls, followed by screams, surely loud enough even for Alwin to hear. The elf stilled, panic gripping her. "This way, hurry."
 
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