Fable - Ask Three Squire Moon

A roleplay which may be open to join but you must ask the creator first
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The wishing well was one of those old-fashioned stone-and-spit type structures, built long before brick and mortar. Rumor had it that the smooth stones its base was made from came straight out of the Vale, the real Vale, the place in between where spirits and gods still roamed away from human influence. Of course, that was just a rumor. The well was old and really far away from the monastery's main buildings, which made it a perfect place for prospects and squires to meet up and cause mischief. Everything else to be said about the well was the natural result of hundreds of years of childhood gossip.

Innis leaned world-weary against the lip of the wishing well, crossed arms hugging her big coat across her chest, hat tipped low over her eyes. Her training with Master Roebin had been exhausting, like it usually was, half lecture and half seance. One of the many downsides of having a ghost as a mentor - she had to adhere to his ghastly schedule.

One of the moons that hung in the sky was low and ripe as an apple, its full glow painting the landscape in yellowish light. Innis squinted up at the bright moonlight and wondered when the other two would show up. If they took any longer, she was going to leave without them and find the wolves all on her own.

No, nevermind. If they took any longer she was going back up the narrow foot path to the Dusk dormitories and going right to bed. That was more her speed.

Vos Fleetwood Hector
 
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"What yaaa doing?" The impish voice of Vos would be heard above Innis.

Soon, Vos appeared above her and slightly to the right of her. Vos was hanging from his legs upside down from a low-lying branch. Even in the night, his white teeth seemed to stand out with his mischievous grin. A slight grunt and a quick flip had him landing feet first onto the ground.

He carried with him his bow, a quiver, and a bag of whatever else he deemed necessary to bring. Vos made his way over with a nonchalant demeanor, before stopping beside Innis and looking down the well.

"I'm glad you showed up, Innis. I was wondering if you would show up. With all of use, this will go much easier."

Now all they had to wait for was Hector...which he was actually worried if he would show up. Hector had a habit of sometimes being a goody-two-shoes. Vos liked to think that he was slowly weening his friend off the bad habit. Tonight would be the big test for him.

Hector Innis
 

Hector

A Heart for Iron
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What was it about sneaking that made every footstep sound like branches breaking or rocks sliding? Metal rang louder, and floorboards seemed to groan and creak with every shift of the body. One such trap caused Chadwick to stir in their bunk, and Hector held close his sword, and did not even think to grab his shield or armor. Though the knot in his stomach made him feel as if that would be something he would come to regret.

Somehow, he had made it outside, and slipped on his gambeson. Wide eyed, he peered about. A sound, low and loud in his ear had him start straight up and out of the shadows, half hidden behind the pillar of a stone henge. His head swivvled left and right, but there was nothing. The sound came again, and his heart ran faster. He peered up and saw a small figure perched upon the stone pillar, large eyes, black in the night, shined only just.

"Oskar,"
he said relieved, laughed, then smiled. "It's just you."

His tiny owl hooted once more, and lifted off of its perch and flew toward the well.

Silent wings glided over the pair of squires at the well, and Oskar let out a low hoot as he flew over.

Hector soon followed, slightly out of breath, he waved a hand at his fellows. "Well," the squire, so used to early mornings and honest work, stopped near his fellows with a crook at the corner of his lip. "Let's go find these wolves."
 
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Jumping to attention, a little noise escaped Innis as Vos appeared suddenly above her. She grimaced at the other squire as he tumbled down and came to lounge casually next to her. He hadn't scared her, she was just startled at the movement. "Yeah, well, I was going to be up anyway," she responded, trying to recover her composure.

Innis looked to see a flutter of pale wings swoop above the well. She smiled up at the little owl, and then squinted down the path to see if she could find its human. Right on cue, there was Hector. He didn't waste any time with hello's. Good. Moonlight was burning.

"Well, let's go find these wolves," Hector announced.​

Innis threw her hands up. "Don't look at me, I'm no good at this Wild stuff." She hitched a thumb in the other boy's direction. "Vos said he had a plan."

She might not know where they were going yet, but she was ready to go. Like usual, she had her sword, her wand, and her lantern hanging from the belt at her side. Innis really hoped she wouldn't need to pull out the lantern. It was such a hassle.

Hector Vos Fleetwood
 
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"Yeah, everyone can just follow their oh so fearless leader," Vos responded confidently.

He headed off in a direction at a slight jog, his eyes glowing slightly yellow color. Vos had a good idea of where the pack was and their direction, but he still did not have an exact location. He would need to keep his eyes out for any signs of tracks.

The next part would be easier in Vos's opinion. There were only supposed to be 4 or 5 wolves, a relatively small number. It should be no problem for three future Knights of Anathaeum.

"Hector, can Oskar keep and eye out for us in the sky?"

Hector Innis
 
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Hector

A Heart for Iron
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Hector nodded to the younger squire. "He makes for a good scout," he said with some pride, and the little owl flew about them in silence, only his shadow against the light of the green-apple moon gave away his position. Yet, Hector could feel the little raptor in the back of his mind.

The silent flyer went ahead, and he landed on a pearch. Large mirror pool eyes took in the twists and tangles of the wood, and he hoot low once and twice, calm before he left his perch and went on further ahead with soundless beats of his wing.
 
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Why did that kid feel the need to start jogging!

Innis sweated under her heavy coat and hat as she did her best to keep up with Vos' ridiculous pace, her clothes better suited to gloomy walks through the rain rather than a brisk tempo along a warm night. The trio made their way around the unused parts of the monastery grounds, down the hillside and into the valley below, until they were nearly at the forest proper.

She stopped at one of the bulky stone monoliths that marked the boundary of Astenvale's grounds, if only to catch her breath. Squires weren't allowed past the line these monoliths made without supervision from an older Knight, and the pillar seemed to loom over her with a certain amount of judgement tracing its ancient runework. "Alright," she called out to her compatriots, hoping they wouldn't get too far ahead while she rested. "Once we go past here, we're now officially breaking curfew."

Vos Fleetwood Hector
 
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Vos took a look back behind him to make sure everyone was following him. He smiled in satisfaction before continuing his jog. The pace wasn't to much. He could run like this for an hour or so. He did not think he would have to.

The young man was already started to see signs of the pack. Not necessarily direct signs, but more the signs of other animals moving through the area that normally did not venture this close to the Monastery. It was likely that something was pushing them this way and Vos was willing to bet that it was the pack.

He would have continued jogging until he looked back in time to notice that Innis had stopped beside the old monolith. Vos came to a hard stop before looking back with confusion. When he got closer, he noticed Innis' expression and sweat. Maybe he should dial it down. They could probably walk the rest of the journey.

"We're already going to be in trouble if they don't like this, so we might as well keep going," Vos responded with a shrug.

Hector Innis
 

Hector

A Heart for Iron
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Hector laughed, small and to himself. "No use in going half-way," he said with a nod, glad for the warmth that came with movement, and the pump of blood through his limbs. Oskar gave a sharp screech that carried through the branches, a sound common to all ears in the dead of night. "I think our little scout has found something," Hector relayed, and he closed his eyes, remembering Master Brambleshell's lessons on Wild Magic, and the eyes of the beast.

From his lips poured ancient words, strings of vowels and consonants that rolled off the tongue and rose and fell like a song most old. Then, in the dark of his own eyes, he could see in silver and grey, through the eyes of night. Through Oskar's eyes. Large and luminescent eyes peered through the dark shapes of shrub and bush, and an enormous figure, on all fours loomed in that lightless growth. Then a stir. The soft snap of twig. The shape moved, and was gone.

"Oskar has found them," Hector let them know. "They are deeper into the woods," he said, his eyes still closed. "Near where we found the grave lilies for the anti-petrification poultice we had to produce last month," Hector spoke matter of fact. Sure they would remember such an important exam.

Innis Vos Fleetwood
 

Lysanthir of Arapat

Knight Sworn of Anathaeum
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Lysanthir inhales deeply, enjoying the tepid night air swirling in his chest. He almost wishes it was cool, to clear him, but that'd keep him far too lucid.

"Prithee why, can't bear to feel my mind ache... Prithee why, my sleep I cannot forsake... Prithee why, I never want to... Eat some hay? That's no good. This is why I shouldn't be allowed to throw verse at this hour."

The beautiful moon shone above him, shimmering slightly. A snow moon, he recalls somewhere in the back of his quagmireous mind. Every thought drags him in deeply, longer than a military train.

He had forgotten to drink his whitebud tea. One of his few stopgaps. Such a simple task, such an easy blunder. Then the particularly harsh snoring a mere three feet away kept him from reading.

And so here he's found himself, beyond the boundstones of Anathaeum, armed and armoured for the safety and the habituality of it, following a foundling deer trail. Occasionally, he pauses to make a trail tree.

Somewhere in the far distance, he hears the ever faintest of animal calls, and again takes a deep breath.

"Sing, children of the night. Let it ring."

He bends another trail tree, and makes off again, musing.

If one holds credence to destiny, perhaps he was meant to be a Dusk knight, in a quite literal sense. His unadulterated mind seems to think so, despite his desire otherwise. Were he not careful as a youth, he would be too drowsy to attend outings with his friends during the daylight, and when war's breaths came, he would find himself to be one of the few left wide awake at night, gauging the behaviours of the warriors sleeping or keeping watch.

Even after so many years of living with himself, it worried at him, like a grub to an apple.

Will a Dawn knight tolerate the ghoulishness of a sleepless Dusk knight?

Some good ways away, the soft call of a night bird rouses him, and he smiles slightly to himself as it pulls him from his thoughts. All will be well, if he can get away from his own foolish ouroboros, and into the world. He heads off towards the call of the bird curiously, and allows himself no more needless overthought for the night.

Hector Innis Vos Fleetwood
 
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Finally catching up to the other two, Innis nodded her understanding at Hector's directions. She did remember the grave lilies - she'd been disappointed that they hadn't actually had anything to do with the grave. Setting out in that direction, she started steering her way between the trees.

She didn't really understand why she had been picked for this particular adventure. Anything Wild wasn't really her strong suit, and she was starting to feel a bit useless. But then again, they weren't after anything dangerous here. All they were going to do was look at some wolves, laugh some as Vos tried to tame one, and then head back to the monastery.

Then why did she feel like they were doing something way worse? Innis stepped over twig and moss, willing the thought away. Must have been Hector's nervous energy rubbing off on her.

They were almost as the grove where the grave lilies grew when something rustled in the bushes right in front of Innis. She squeaked and startled backwards, falling right on her rear. A rabbit leapt out across the path, a silver streak that disappeared back into the brush as soon as it landed.

Still on the ground, Innis let out a sigh, too relieved for the embarrassment to fully sink in yet. "Just a rabbit," she breathed.

Hector Vos Fleetwood Lysanthir of Arapat
 
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The petrification poultice...where was that again? Vos had been paying attention, he promised, but that was a whole month ago. He did a lot of things in a month. Still, his lack of academic retention did not prove to be a problem. Hector and Oskar's warnings had led him to focus more and he was starting to spot more signs of activity. Vos grinned in triumph as he hurried off ahead of the others.

It did not take long for him to find the pack, once he was aware of the general direction. In fact, the first sign of the pack was one of its small members out in a clearing leading to a cave. The pup must have just snuck off to play.

Without thinking much through, Vos descended from his hiding place to stand out in the open near the pup. He withdrew some of the meat from his bag. "Hey, there little guy. Want a snack?"

The pup turned to him, its tongue hanging out with a hungry look directed at the meat. Still, it did not move closer toward Vos.

It was only now that Vos was closer that he began to notice just how many tracks there were. This pack must be incredibly active,...but that did not line up with his tracking. Uh oh.

"Guys, I think I might have been a little wrong on the size."

The pup yapped in delight at the meat before letting out a howl to the moon. That was almost instantly met with several other howls, which were quickly followed by the sound of movement. Soon there were wolves coming from the surrounding wolves and from the cave. There were at least 25.

"Ok, make that a lot of wrong."

Hector Innis Lysanthir of Arapat
 

Hector

A Heart for Iron
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"Vos, wait!" Hector called out as the younger squire hurried away, nimble as a hare, with all the courage of a wolf pup. And all the good sense that came with it. "Don't get too far ahead!" he warned, as he dodged branch and bush and bulled through thrush and reeds.

There was a moment where he had lost the trail of the elusive squire, his heart pounded and his eyes shifted, left and right, right to left, searching each shadow for any hint of familiarity. Oskar cried again in the distance. A low and calming hoot. The night bird had eyes on Vos. Hector wasted no time in moving toward him.

A yap in the distance ahead, then a howl, small and fierce. It was joined by a chorus of many more, strong and old full of the Wild. It stopped Hector in his tracks, right at the edge of the clearing. He saw the wolves pour out and surround Vos, saw the small pup, bright eyed beneath the moon as it stood its ground against Vos.

Hector, still some yards behind Vos, bowed his head low and dropped to one knee before the pack. "Vos, you must show them you are not a threat." Hector urged in a hushed tone. "Dump the meat, and don't make eye contact," his heart was pounding in his chest.

This was no ordinary pack. This was a gathering. He had seen the old gnarled pack leader Syr Dorn had mentioned during one of his stories after a training session. A massive beast, with one golden eye, and a jagged scar across the other. He had said it saved him from an ambuscade set by mercenaries turned brigand. There was a silver furred wolf that loomed in the back, with eyes as pale blue as a winter's moon. He remembered hearing of her too. Olwen the Mist Fang.

"It is a wolf coven," Hector said beneath his breath, hoping some sort of memory would be shaken loose by the words. Yet, without words, he focused on his breath. Took in the air of the forest, the smells of so many wolves. The smell of meat hidden away in Vos' cloak, the smell of his own fear pouring from his skin. He felt his magic swirl inside of him, a roil. He tried to calm it, to plant it in the earth and let it spread, gently out toward the member's of the pack. To Vos and Innis.

Maybe if they could show they were a pack, come to meet with the coven...
 
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Lysanthir of Arapat

Knight Sworn of Anathaeum
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The coven cries towards the beautiful moon, and the hair on Lysanthir's neck stands on end. A shudder rolls down his spine. A lace of fear, tiny and primal, shocks through him before abating quickly at his will. A prey's response from a predator's stature.

Ah, great forest beasts. Now the children do truly sing.

A thrill of boldness fills in where fear failed to cling, and Lysanthir makes his way softly towards the nightcall, determined to satiate his whirling mind before returning to the monastery.

Innis Vos Fleetwood Hector
 
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Fall on your ass for one second, and you miss all the action! Rolling up from the underbrush, Innis got on her feet quick as she could, following the sound of yelps and howls. The other two were up ahead, but she could see their forms through the darkling leaves, and she felt Hector's tempered mana warming the earth around them. She pushed her own magics out in response, hers like a cool mist rolling down from the foothills, washing the old grove in lochlight that could be felt but barely seen.

In the open grove, some of the wolves stirred, sniffing at the disturbance in the air. But the big ones, the golden-eye and the pale blue, did not budge, their gaze intent, weighing the two squires with cold intelligence. Innis finally caught up, barreling to a stop behind the two boys. Her eyes went wide at the sight, and numbly, she followed Hector's cue, dropping to her knees and trying to not make her breath sound so loud.

All of a sudden, the stirring and the howling stopped.

'1635973605.caraid_flourishinghunter_signature.jpgOne last pack comes to join us,' a deep but feminine voice echoed out in the newfound silence. An antler-crowned wolf emerged from the caves then, standing tall and high on a rock above the rest of the coven. Eerie green light rippled off the wolf's coat, obscuring its form and making it difficult to see where its silhouette began and ended through the trees. The other wolf pack leaders were massive already, but they looked like puppies compared to the figure towering above them.

'Welcome, pack of Anathaeum.' It spoke again, though its maw did not move. 'Come along, we have been waiting for you, and the moons hang full in the sky.'

The great beast dipped its head ever so slightly, looking now at the other pack leaders below. 'Let them pass.' Without hesitation, a line parted in the sea of wolves, clearing the way for the squires. Only the puppy Vos had found stayed in front of them, yipping cheerfully in play, too young to understand the alpha's call.

The great spirit wolf, on soft pads that made no sound, turned then, and retreated back into the cave it had come from.

Vos Fleetwood Hector Lysanthir of Arapat
 
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Holy hell it was like those weird little dolls that had smaller versions of themselves inside...Except for the opposite. Every moment he thought he had found the big one to deal with and then an even bigger and more important-looking wolf would show up.

At first, he had been mad at himself for not recognizing such things about the pack when he was doing his tracking. Then he saw the antler wolf that could also talk to people, so...he wasn't that made that he was tricked. Sometimes you just weren't meant to be the winner.

Vos was so busy trying to look big and not easy to attack that he did not move, at first. When his brain finally registered what the wolf had said though, he hurriedly followed after her. There was no way he was going to miss an opportunity like this. The wolf had antlers!!

As he jogged to follow after her, he stopped by the pup long enough to hand over some of the meat to him. "There you go. You are really brave." He whispered to the pup and then ran off to catch the magical-looking wolf.

Hector Innis Lysanthir of Arapat
 

Hector

A Heart for Iron
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Innis had joined them, and he did not need to look up or turn back to see her. He felt her, cool blue mana mixing with his own. But, their junior failed to follow. Failed to show he was part of their pack.

When Hector raised his eyes to peer up at the great wolf spirit, he could not believe what he saw, and his mind rippled with the voice of that being most ancient. The Mother of the Hunt. "Vos, you idiot, get-" but the Mother's voice went on, and Hector brought his eyes back down to the earth. His heart raced. Pump after pump, but he kept his magic feed pouring out of him, trying to remember the stories he had heard and read, and recall the countless lessons he had had across the years.

The great mother bid them entry, and her coven opened the way. Hector looked up, and saw Vos feed the pup before him, whisper some sweet words and dart forward. The big wolves beside him snarled, their hairs standing on end, some growled and showed teeth and agitation as he ran ahead without his fellow squires.

"Damn it, Vos, this obviously isn't a game anymore," Hector cursed, and rose slowly to his feet. He looked back at Innis, "Keep our manas linked," he nodded to the wolves around him, they were not big, their eyes low, just as Hector was sure to keep his own gaze low. "I...I think that is how we show them we are a pack," he tossed his head toward the cave. "Lets go, hopefully Vos isn't wolf food yet," he grinned grimly, then hurried, deeper into the Wolf's den.


Innis Lysanthir of Arapat Vos Fleetwood
 
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Lysanthir of Arapat

Knight Sworn of Anathaeum
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With a great many long, quiet strides, Lysanthir comes to the wooded, bushy surroundings of the clearing, crouched low and disturbingly aware of how much he must reek of musk to animals more sensitive than himself. He can definitely smell the increase in wolf.

They're more concerned of me, than I of them, surely. Wolves don't go after bipeds unless something is wrong.

He keeps his movement conscious and slow, peeking through the brush, feeling magic flow through the air, warm, as candle smoke swirls at an open window. His thoughts float for a moment to home, with himself, Cyrrus, and Alcibados playing Sun Bear Chicken. The last one to run from the creature being the bravest, the first being the chicken. Admittedly, the poor bears were only mildly annoyed at having idiot youths sneaking up to them, but it felt like a true challenge then.

His eyes refocus on witnessing the event at hand. Wolves, more than he's ever seen in one place before. And what appears to be three squires, one striding boldly into a cave, and two others crawling after, voices low. No doubt part of the source of the-

Lysanthir's mind comes to a screeching, grinding, all-consuming halt. Something both deep and low within his chest, and responsible, flares up, as a pocket of water from a log being revealed to fire, sending sparks.

What in the Nine Hells' Bells are these foolish stryplings doing?!

He brings himself to a far more intentional halt, and eases his muscles into relaxation with a cool exhale. He ignores himself and simply feels, just for a moment. Beyond the signatures of the squires- of Innis, Hector, Vos...

Vos, naturally. A strypling cut of similar cloth to mine. Similar.

Beyond them, something ancient and everlasting brushes him, like velvetleaf gracing his forehead, soothing his aches. Something as deep, no, perhaps deeper still, than Falwood's oldest settlement. This meant something. But what?

Lysanthir takes a slow, filling breath through his nose. Martials himself. Steels his mind. Focuses on his heart, hugged, between his lungs. Allows his exhale, slower still, from between near-closed lips. With each passing rivulet, he brings forth his soul- his magic -as candle smoke. His breath, breeze, sending it forth, across the coven of wolves, and to his newly acquired, foolish charges, undoubtedly such that they feel it.

He shifts around the edge of the clearing, and finding the part between the crowd, drops down as low as he can go without dragging along on his belly or looking ridiculous. Keeps his eyes forwards and pitched towards the ground. With a last, weak quake in his chest, he shakes the threads of anxiety from himself and plunges onward, after the three squires.

Here goes nothing.

Innis Vos Fleetwood Hector
 
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Oh, Innis was definitely going to keep their manas link, if not because she had a sneaking suspicious Hector was onto something with the whole pack thing, then because it was the only think keeping her calm. The constant pressure of magic soothed her skin, and she ran her fingers through it as she walked forward next to Hector.

She hadn't learned the mindsong yet, the deepest currents of Loch where elder knights could cast and draw forth whole thoughts. She could leave behind impressions, though, and she did this now, swirling reassurance and recognition into the circle of magic she spun around Hector and Vos and now, weaker and further in the distance, another knight that she could not identify from imprint alone.

Still too far away to be seen by the squires, the silver-furred wolf appeared behind Lysanthir as snowfall, her ice pale eyes flashing in the full moons. Olwen said nothing as soundless paw pads traced a half-circle around the satyr, sniffing at the air near him. An animal purpose guided her gaze, but there was no malice, no hunger. Then some unspoken approval washed over her, and she pointed her snout towards the entrance of the cave, and galloped ahead a ways. The Mist Fang stayed an even arm's length away from Lysanthir as she wove between the trees, sometimes following and sometimes overtaking his stride.

Up ahead, wolves were inching ever closer to Vos, growling at his approach, ears pinned back against their heads. One haughty young hunter creeped closer than the others, growling so much and so low that drool dripped from its teeth. At the sight of the threat, Innis growled out her own little sound and rushed forward, getting in the way of the young wolf before it could snap at Vos's heels.

"Be quiet," Innis said to the wolf, her voice cracking. She looked like she was about to cry, but there was nothing but indignation in her voice. "Your leader said we could pass." Seeming to understand, the wolf backed away to be level with the others, but the challenge was still there in its posture.

Innis took the last few long strides forward and finally caught up to Vos. She grabbed the other squire by the arm and pulled him to a stop before the entrance to the cave. Her grip was frighteningly tight. "Run off again and I'll kill you before Syr Edelbert even has a chance to," she said in a low voice. Then she let go, and entered the wolf's den.



Inside, the air was hot with animal breath, the musky scent of nesting fur overwhelming everything. The great antlered wolf lay at rest on a bed of moss and leaves, her paws crossed in front of her. Her long neck craned to look at the approaching squires. Then, her gaze went to the other wolves gathered in a semicircle around the edges of the cave. Each one looked like a pack leader in its own right. She saw the massive wolf from before with the one golden eye, though Innis did not remember enough about her Wild studies to recognize any by legend or name.

My sons and daughters. The great wolf blinked out a pause, slow and deciding. I have led you all on many a hunt, of men and beasts, those who tread lightly and those with thunderous roar. But on this night, mine last hunt, only one pack can follow.

An uneasiness settled over the coven of wolves, a shuffling comprised of noses and clawed feet. Once more the great spirit's eyes rested on the squires.

Step forward, Anathaeum.

Hector Vos Fleetwood Lysanthir of Arapat
 
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Vos would admit that he was not sensing the danger of the situation that the others seemed to focus on, but it wasn't because of any dumb or childish wonderment. It was just Vos and maybe his magical affinity was just understanding the situation differently.

For example, the wolves that were growling were protecting their leader, but that was a common display to show they were still protective. They may growl and bare their teeth, but they would never over step their leader. The leader clearly being the antlered wolf.

In fact the nature of this pack was strong and well organized with a clear hierarchy. It made him super comfortable. Of course, the others did not feel that way apparently as he was snatched up by Innis and berated for no reason. He looked between her and then to Hector and only now felt their auras connected to him.

Every person had a different feel to their mana. Hector's was warm but steady, like a sturdy winter jacket that would protect you from the harshest colds. Innis' aura was cold, but like the sudden cold of water that woke you up in the morning. It cleared away any sort of mental fog, Vos felt like his senses were working at their best.

He looked at both of their faces and realized they did not feel what he felt right now. He had ran off ahead without thinking about his friends. He looked downcast for a moment before looking up apologetically.

"Sorry, but we are fine. Trust me. Let me show you what I feel."

Vos focused for a minute as he had to shape his aura correctly to focus on the three of them. The best word to describe Vos' mana was...wild. It was like getting stuck with a shot of adrenaline that pushed you to follow your instincts. This was how Vos was the entire time. The next thing the others would notice would be that when they focused on the wolves that surrounded them now, their was something there.

The wolves could still prove to be dangerous as they were definitely still skeptical of them, but the wolves had that same wildness that the Vos had just pure. This commonality and instinct also meant that Vos understood the animals just from small bits of movement, the way they stood, where they were looking. He honestly had an easier time understanding animals than most humans.

"See, as long as their leader wants us here then we will be ok." He said trying to reassure them.

Hector Innis
 

Hector

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Hector scowled at the youngest member of their party, and spoke with a low growl. "What you did was beyond reckless, Vos, sheer stupidity, in fact," But Innis had already splashed him with a cold dose of reality. Hector set his jaw in a hard line and grumbled, stepping forward, he felt as Vos let his mana flow and swirl with theirs. The jolt of excitement, the call of the wyld. Did he think he was the only young squire to feel its call? Hector stepped toward Vos, and placed a firm hand on his shoulder. "Not every pup heeds orders, and not every read is right. But we'll talk more about this later," he nodded toward the mouth of the den, and the wolf mother inside. The crowned leader of this Coven.

"Now, there is something greater that requires our attention, and we have to do it together," he squeezed the younger squire's shoulder, as a brother might his younger. To reassure. To temper, and try to guide. He jerked his head toward the mouth of the cave and stepped into the veil of musk and wolf's warmth. "As a pack," He nodded and looked to both his fellow squires.

A fourth energy was soon felt, full of the wyld and cool that swirled in the tempest that was Vos. Only, it had longer roots, some stone and gravel to keep it sturdy and cool. If only to jump all the better with. The Mist Fang appeared, and with the great wolf, so too did Syr Lysanthir.

Hector's eyes went wide with shock. "Uh, hello, Syr," he waved at the satyr knight. But the greatest wolf beckoned them in.

There was no time to explain.

Hector bowed his head toward his senior. "I swear, I will explain all another time," The wolves began to bay in a haunting chorus. Hector gulped, turned, and walked into the cave with his fellows at his side.

Inside, with the smell of the Wyld so thick in the air, with wolves ordered as stars around the great moon, the squires stepped forward, and once more, Hector knelt to the great wolf, and bowed his head. No challenge to her dominance. No pretense of equality. He was her guest. And by her grace he remained living in this den of wolves.

Innis Vos Fleetwood Lysanthir of Arapat
 
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Lysanthir of Arapat

Knight Sworn of Anathaeum
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Lysanthir follows the impressing lead- guide -of The Mist Fang, trusting in her approval of him and her knowledge of the Vale. Understanding from his soul.

Whether or not he could find his way back to this location later, he supposes will rest entirely on what the Vale has to say of it. As it is, he feels the land around him, doesn't desire to see it beyond what could trip or scrape him. It isn't of import.

The shadows, then forms of the squires come to his vision. He hears their voices, quick and quiet and through teeth, feels their auras more strongly. He nods to The Mist Fang in thanks for her instruction.

He continues to let his soul be felt, hoping to gently temper Vos's winding, snaking wildness with the patience of an animal at hunt. Lend encouragement to bolster Innis' quickly fraying nerves. A stable hearth for Hector's dancing, shaking flame. Made it into his very duty, for if it wasn't his...

"Uh, hello, Syr," spoke Hector, eyes wide, hand waving in greeting. Heading his worry off at the pass.

Lysanthir nods to him, silently appreciative of his unknowing help, and offers close-mouthed smile. He gives the young man's shoulder a reassuring squeeze, then Innis and Vos. Lets Hector continue to whisper as they are urged forth.

"I swear, I will explain all another time."

He bites away a full grin, drawn between his teeth and eyebrows lifted in good humour. In it's stead, he tilts his head slightly.

"Of course."

The choir of wolves begins, and the untamed in him doesn't shrink. Doesn't recoil or retreat. Lets the breath of them swirl, their very musk to simply sink in, trust to rule.

Their joined entrance amongst the moonshadows of wolves brings more calm to Lysanthir. For a moment he wishes to ponder on it, of the soul of it. Relate it back to his past experiences.

Eye of the storm? Will of battle? Wyld influence? Deep connection of the Vale? Remember the keys, open doors later.

The Great Wolf is collected. Proud without vanity. Strong without brutality. Commanding without intimidating. She holds this court, unquestioning, not because she demands it, but because her knowledge keeps it.

Lysanthir bows to her.

My sons and daughters. Her voice rings in their fiber. I have led you all on many a hunt, of men and beasts, those who tread lightly and those with thunderous roar. But on this night, mine last hunt, only one pack can follow.

The shift of paw, tail, breath, stirs the air. Her unwavering gaze rests upon the newcomers. Upon the three squires at front, and upon their inadvertent ward at rear.

Step forward, Anathaeum.

He won't disobey her.

Innis Vos Fleetwood Hector
 
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The elder Knight didn't seem to be mad at them as he came to stand next to them, and Vos wasn't as stupid as he was acting, and... were they actually doing alright...?

The aura that Vos had shared with them was sharpening her senses. Little movements of the wolves that had previously been invisible were starting to stand out to Innis. A proud young hunter squirmed restlessly in anticipation, and its older packmate snapped at its ear to calm it down. The leaders of the individual packs sat solemn and stony, lieutenants at their heels, unperturbed by the energy in the air, drinking in the scene with cooling eyes and wild souls. What had looked like aggression to her before was well, just wolves being wolves.

Still, even if things weren't as hostile as they first seemed, it was unnerving to be standing in the middle of a wolves' den, with so many watchful eyes on them. Fists still clutched at her sides, Innis expanded her chest and focused on her breathing as the great spirit wolf stirred once more. Her voice echoed in their heads, and Innis focused on just that, important as it was.

We wolves are creatures of two natures. The blue moonslight guides us, and the green shade of the forest hides our step. It was your Knight-Commander Anathaeum who first showed me this, awakened the magic in me.

An entirely mortal look came over the spirit then, something soft and faraway. But now, that time is hundreds of years gone, and my light grows weak. If I stay in this dark world any longer, I fear what I will become.

She stood heads above them as she rose up from her haunches, bowing her antlered head in front of the quartet. It burdens me, that I must lean on ones so young. Green eyes glowed with ancient light, a wavering light, like leaves dappling a forest pond. But Anathaeum, too, was but a pup when they saved me. Stand tall and remember yourselves, Knights of the Vale.

In a wide sweep of her neck, the spirit wolf lifted her gaze up towards the back of the den. There, carved out of the stone wall, was an archway that led to nowhere. Thick vines crawled up the sides of the arch, obscuring much of its details. Open the door, and lead me on to the last hunt.

For the first time since meeting the wolves, Innis brightened once more. She broke off from the group and walked up to the archway. Brushing a few leaves aside, her fingers traced the stonework underneath.

"These look like the wards that are on the henges around the Monastery,"
she said, excitement at a new discovery an effective balm against her fear. "I can make out keystone runes for Loch and Wild, it looks like you've got to active them at the same time to sustain the spell..." She took a step back, craning her neck up to look at the whole thing. "Its too big for one person. We'll have to be pretty well synced to make it work."

Lysanthir of Arapat Hector Vos Fleetwood
 
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Vos fighting instincts were ready as Hector spoke to him. He did not meet him in the eye, but he did not agree with him either. He was only two years younger than him. He wasn't some pup in the pack that needed to be scolded for everything. He was a squire just like the other two.

To Vos, it may have been one thing if he had done something wrong, but in his eyes, everything he had done was still the correct choice. It just so happened that Hector apparently did not like his choices, but who died and made him the leader.

When he saw Sir Lysanthir, he bowed respectfully. The knight had always seemed a bit strange to Vos, but that kind of strange that made you want to learn more because you that it might be fun.

Vos watched Innis hurry off to the archway. He was sure she probably wouldn't be berated as he had been. He chose to move forward at the Great Wolf's request, but he did not step forward to inspect anything. Innis and Hector could do it. Apparently, he was just a pup who was supposed to heed orders.

Innis Hector Lysanthir of Arapat
 

Hector

A Heart for Iron
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"Anathaeum?" Hector parroted. "The first commander..." he reminded himself as her words thrummed through him, oblivious to the younger squires discontent. Larger things were at play, and they were not things he fully understood. When the great wolf bade them stand, Hector stood, and his eyes bore witness to the structure of stone.

When Innis rushed forward, Hector's brow did furrow,
"Innis!" he called out. But like Vos, the other Squire was a being of strong will and ceaseless curiosity, and the curiosity seeped into Hector too, and cooled his flare of fiery concern. He grumbled. "Maybe..." he grasped for ideas, but none would come. "I mean, do we know the spell?" he asked his fellows.

Lysanthir of Arapat Vos Fleetwood Innis