Beneath the Pale Moon (open adventure)

[O'Brien]

16th of Cryxatum

Darkness encompassed Arios in the late hours of the 16th of Cryxatum, several candlemarks before the 17th. In any other place, the citizens would be fast asleep, but in Arios, they were partying as usual. That night's party was held outside of town, down by the Aedile's office on the ocean shore. It had been a warm brightening, especially for winter, and the good weather lingered as the majority of the Ariosans who were out partying (many Shensra employees were still working voluntarily) made their way down to the beach. Their festive, drunken cries rang out in the cool night sky as a full moon cast a pale glow on the island. Based on the great setting and enthusiastic members, it was looking to be one of the best parties many Ariosans could remember in a long time.

In many ways, though, these people might as well have been asleep, as they would be on the mainland. They were just as oblivious to what was going on back in their town, past their very homes and businesses. Fortunately nothing was terrorizing people or razing buildings - security was lax on the island but not that bad - but something was certainly afoot. As the Ariosans partied on, a pack of wolves stalked the town. There were about seven or eight of them, and anyone who managed to spot one of them would be able to tell immediately that they were not normal wolves who had wandered out of the forest. Nay, these wolves had some intangible yet undeniably dark aura about them.

Rather than a standard corporeal look, these wolves almost appeared as shades, and seemed to be at least somewhat transparent. There was a definite dark blue hue to their spectral fur, and their eyes burnt like small fires rested in each of them, illuminating the darkness and betraying their presence. With maws shut, the wolves slowly walked through the streets. Their heads moved about back and forth as if they were scanning the area for something...or someone. A few citizens who were still in their homes caught sight of the wolves but shook their heads in disbelief - at the same time they barricaded their doors.

Through the town the ghostly figures went. Leaves blew through them and ground beneath their feet did not stir - it was no mere illusion of the viewers' eyes that caused the pack to appear so otherworldly. Almost as if avoiding the party to the south, the wolves slowly made their way north through the town in the general direction of the Thanal Mansion.

[Gareth Gruven]

A tiny dark figure lurked within the same confines of unknown building's shadows, it's form cleverly blending in with mixture of dark and adding shape and fuel for the shadow territory. He stood solemnly against the stone wall, resting in a casual stance with his left leg upright and his right tucked in for his foot to apply pressure against the stone blocks sealed with mortar. His back rested somewhat against the stone wall, though darker lines projected out of the shadows giving form to the shape of small wings. In all reality, the figure wasn't as tall as one would have expected, standing only at a small three feet from the ground. However, what it lacked in size and muscle, it made up for in agility and determination.

Though the shadow's casted a veil over his face, the platinum-silver hair easily reflected the pale luminous moonlight and bounced it nonchalantly to the ground. The hair seemed to almost shimmer like silver in the moon, yet it withheld enough of a grey hue to make it seem almost normal to human eyes. The face...was un-viewable, yet it sported concentrated, concerned features. Dark-green almond-shaped eyes stared out dully forward, plush red lips upturned into a smug, tight smile, with a means of force showing evidently behind it. Underneath the smile was pale white skin the travelled smoothly downwards to a leaf-shaped brooch, holding fastly togethor a foresty-green camoflauged cloak, supporting golden elven embroideries as well. The cloak fell gently across the man's arms, travelling the full length to his wrists and then some. Pale hands where clenched in concentration, small beads of sweat beginning to form on them. Whatever the Sprite was doing, he was applying his whole mind upon it.

Emerald wings spotted and shot with flecks of gold projected from the man's back, resting silently as they gathered energy for their next usage of flight. Underneath the cloak, cleverly concealed was the green and brown garb of a ranger, and underneath still was the glinted chains of mesh armor, wrought of the finest elven steel and alloyed with damascus...virtually nimble and quite comfortable. Underneath the tan garb was a tanned brown belt, supporting an elven-steel shortsword secured in a black leather sheath. A pair of black woven pants were worn underneath, accompanied by brown leather boots caked with a traveller's journey of dust.

And so this silent, stolid individual stood, leaning gently against the stone wall of a building so as to not crush his wings. He stood with his arms clasped about him, as if guarding his body from a brisk chill or breeze. Emerald eyes were opened, yet held a distant and faraway look to them. Gareth Gruven was in Clara. He had been for several minutes. Silently and deftly, he had been practicing his nightly mental excercises, ignoring the fabulous parties and inviting drinks and women that were usually found within them. No, he had placed his Arcanic studies before him and was grim-set determined to reap their reward. Silently Gareth stood, a lone sentinel abandoned and forgotten, the lonesome hero that often saved many lives but was never noticed or thanked. Quietly Gareth patiently travelled the hazardous trek to the Astral Planes, ignoring the primary signals of Elementalism and Mysticism, Sorcery and Song, Thaumaturgy and Necromancy. However...the latter of the spheres was exceptionally close, or so Gareth felt. No..instead, he travelled directly to the Planes of Druidism, then going further into the reaches of his mind and visiting the Secondary Planes.

It was the Plane of Water that he first travelled to, knowing fully well it was the most disastorous, yet nearest. He carefully kept himself in check as he came upon the patterns of energies, before extending a hand and reached out to mentally collect the strands of Ara. Holding onto them for further use, he left the rolling waves, the churning hills of the sea, and moved further on. He came close...almost too close, to the brink that seperated Thaumaturgy and Druidism. He bent down low, and searched for the Planes of Reflection, a most important addition to the spell he hoped to create and form. The Reflection strands of Ara were so much safer than the Water ones, yet they were denser, and required more focus upon them to bend them to his will. But eventually, Gareth had these in check as well, and with the two different strands of each plane in both hands, he travelled back to the Astral Plane, leaving the Secondary ones behind.

Now, he channeled his Vis outside of him, and began to mold weave the patterns of the Ara and Vis togethor, entwining them to create an Arcalysis. He briefly smiled at the forming, before taking the proffered Mana and began to weave into the easiest and foremost spell he had learned and mastered. Slowly, deliberatly he formed the spell, taking the reflecitonate water strands and conducting them into a web, much like a spider's, yet instead of forming it vertically, he formed it outside of him. He tightened it's weak points and strengthened it's knots, knowing fully well that anyone who stepped through the Arcanic energy would be noticed by Gareth. He watched with pride as his spell formed, spreading out from him and covering a good distance.

Farther away he could 'detect' the people at the party, and he briefly studied their life forms before noticing other things. Plant life was found, accepted and confirmed as common. Yet right when Gareth thought of pulling out of his spell, he felt an alien life-form come pass, something that was unusual. The hairs on the nape of his neck rose slightly, and he senses a dark aura almost surge through him, spreading through the entire portion of the web and alerting him of it's presence. Something bad had stirred his detection spell, had walked near it or through it.

Hastily Gareth dropped out of Clara, watching the strands of the Astral Plane darken into an oblivion, and the three-dimensional world Nature gave forth come back into a lighter shade. His left hand immediatly shot for the pommel of his shortsword, and he gripped the leather blue hilt soundlessly, considering drawing it out. The sword was the only weapon the Sprite had brought with him, and it would be his only defense against melee combat. Gareth debated the effects of drawing his sword now, and hesitantly decided against it. If he was mistakened as a criminal...things would not go well.

The small winged man took to air with ease, the emerald flexible wings savoring the wing currents as they beated rapidly, keeping the small body of his afloat in the air. Gareth soon swept over the building he had been leaning against, and found a large pack of wolves travelling on the street opposite of it. An intriguing eyebrow shot up as Gareth watched the wolves progress, travelling from the South to the North. Had Gareth not been paying attention, they would have taken him completely by suprised, and who knew what that would have been like! With a resolute sigh, Gareth travelled over the thatched roofs of buildings and homes, taking a course parrelel to the one the wolves were forging.

'What is to the North?' Gareth absent-mindedly wondered as he traced the wolves for any other signs that would have signalled Necromancy. His eyes caught the faint, shadowy midnight-black aura that seemed to be produced by them, and the Sprite immediatly suspected the spell of Undead. 'The shops...the Archery...all that is towards the South...The Thane! The Guardian!' Gareth stopped almost dead in midair as the realization struck him forcefully on the head. Was the Guardian in danger? Had he been warned? Gareth quickly took up pursuit of the wolves, making sure to stay in a parralel course, though travelling high and far enough to where he might not be seen. Something foul was indeed at work that night..and it would be up to Gareth to stop it!

[O'Brien]

The spectral wolves continued their silent run through Arios, oblivious or ignorant to the sprite fluttering above them, keeping them in check and spying on them. If they were indeed going to pay a visit to the Guardian, then they were not the only one. In the distance, Gareth could just barely make out the sight of a glowing orb with a pale blue light, far enough that a human would not have been able to see it, even from the airborne vantage point the sprite held. It was probably Arcanely created, but given the number of disciplines that had a simple light-bringing spell, and given the high number of mages on Arios, that didn't really tell anything. It was too bad that Gruven's Clara had been broken when he received the startling information of the prowling wolves.

Had he been closer, he would have been able to see the source of the light. Sremalis Rinmacar, elven son of the local history nuts, was on a little stroll, bouncing the light orb around, in the general direction of the Thanal Manor. Unlike Gareth and the wolves, however, he was very close. The blue light disappeared when the elf entered the building, but by this time the wolves' keeping to their path made it all too evident that the sprite's fears were well-grounded.

Inside the manor, Sremalis nodded to the ceremonial guards and made his way up to meet with Guardian Portier. "Serale, sir," he greeted the Nimâlni.
"Good evening, Thremalith," came the lisped reply. "What bringth you to my plathe tho late?"
"I wish to speak with you about Constable Zheunnhin."
"Ah yeth. What about her?"
"I think she should be dismissed from her post immediately."
"Dithmithed? But she hath done nothing!"
"Exactly, sir. I don't know about you, but I want a constable with the competency to actually keep this island safe. With all due respect, which I should think is very little, Constable Zheunnhin is doing a very poor job and I would like to see her dismissed."
"Now Thremalith, you know very well that Arioath hath little to no crime. A thtrong Conthtable ith thimply not nethethary."
"It would not hurt to have one though, correct?"
A pause. Qui'scent seemed reluctant to answer, as if he anticipated a verbal trap. "I belive not."
"Well I need a job besides teaching history at my parents' school. Give Necazo some time off and let me give the job a try. Maybe you will find my talents more to your liking, sir."

Meanwhile, the outside situation had not remedied himself. The silent wolves were now just out of view from the inept mansion guards, which was not very far at all since most of them were humans or elves that could not see well in the darkness. Gareth, blessed with his ring, was able to keep pace with them. Now, if ever, was the time for action.

[Tiarela Iceglitter]

It was a darkening much unlike any other darkening thus far on the island that Tiarela had come to grow accustomed to. People were closing their doors when the night was young (at least, those who weren't living it up down in the party near the Aedile's Office) and, seeing Tiarela had been here for a good number of days now, she had come to realize how unlike the citizens of the island this should have been. No one needed sleep here, and Arcana was about as readily abundant as water in the boardering sea. It confused the little one as she flew by house after house, having an omnious feeling that the citizens were.. scared.

Of what, though? Tiarela's eyes wandered around the darkened streets, her wings carrying her on the whispy tendrils of an island's salty wind, bearing her wherever she pleased. At the moment, the little faerie was looking towards the Thanal Mansion, where the most peculiar visage met her little blue eyes.

A hand went to her mouth in shock -- she thought she'd seen something move, there, in the night! What was it? Perhaps just a wild animal, a figment of the Faerie's imagination that was running wild on an island that allowed such a race so close to arcana the ability to be surrounded by it, a blanket of comfort in the Empire they knew little about. She shook her head in disbelief -- this could not be, there was nothing there. The leaves blew and yet no feet crunched them. The grass waved and yet no paws marred them.
Something strange was afoot this night.

Tiarela darted up into the sky to get a better look at outlying areas around her. The pale moon gave the scene an even more eerieness, unsettling the faerie as her translucent wings beat faster in anxiety. She had thought she'd seen them again, the spectral figures of animals as they prowled through the night. She could still hear the Ariosans partying the night away in the distance, and shook her head. If she wasn't hallucinating, they were oblivious to something most unnatural sitting on their very doorstep. Stupid big people, all of them! Anyone over the size of a foot was missing a few braincells, that was for sure. Maybe she just needed to turn in for the night in a tree or something that could be found nearby. Faeries were known for making their sleeping arrangements in odd places, such as trees, under the eaves of houses and even in attics, if they could get themselves there. Treehouses were not unheard of but...

Wait, turn in for the night? Last time she tried that, all she did was toss and turn. No, there was no 'turning in' in Arios. It seemed that this oddity she had thought she'd witnessed wasn't going to leave her alone, either, until she made sure that nothing was there. As everyone knows, it is better to try and prove nothing exists, then that something really was being seen by two tiny midnight blue eyes. For now, she stayed near the buildings, lingering around their rooftops and even coming to rest her light weight on it's edge as she crouched down and just watched, waited.

It was worth note that she was a bit north of Gareth when he first entered the state of Clara and began to poke around all nosey-like. Good thing that Tiarela had not been paying attention too closely, or the presence of a few people casting Arcana may have become apparent to her... If indeed the rumor that faeries could sense, smell, taste and hear magic were true. Perhaps she would find that out for herself in due time, though. For now, Tiarela was just concerned with trying to disprove her visions of beasts prowling the night and yet not uttering a single foot-fall of a sound in the earthen ground below them.

[Gareth Gruven]

Gareth's eyes grew contemplatingly upon the shadowy wolves and their pursuit to the Thanal Mansion. His left hand still rested upon the pommel of his shortsword, ready if needed to take action and draw the fearsome weapon out of it's sheath. He flew steadily, yet rapidly, maintaining the pace of the wolves but attempting to fly at an equal ground. He wanted to be there if a dispute would evoke, it would be his job to protect any of the townspeople involved. Afterall, as far as he knew, he was the only one that could see the Necromantic creatures.

Gareths emerald eyes travelled slowly ahead, to the point where his gaze reflected off of a pale white light. His eyebrows lowered in frustration at the vision of his sight, yet he could tell no further. He silently sharpened his eyes, squinting to get a slightly better look of the light, and noticed it was in the shape of an orb. That was all Gareth's conscience needed to alert the small Sprite that something was wrong. His gaze travelled sharply back to the wolves, and suddenly something inside his brain clicked. Were the wolves following the light? Was it a signal to draw them to the Thanal mansion? Obviously it was Arcana created, but a number of spheres withheld the power to create light, Thaumaturgy, Druidism, Elementalism, almost all of them. A frown became clearly visible upon Gareth's lips. Something in the back of the head began to whisper to him, telling him that now, if ever, was the time to act.

And act Gareth did! The Thanal Mansion was the theater, and death would be it's play. Gareth's slender pale hand twisted around the hilt of his shortsword, before drawing it out, listening satisfyingly to the ringing noice the elven metal produced against the sheath. His right hand tightened against the leather-bound hilt, and he gently lowered the weapon to where the blade pointed downwards. And then, then he began to fly.

He flew faster than he ever had before, making a sprint straight for the Thanal Mansion. His emerald wings were beating with pounding ferocity. Beads of sweat began to form upon Gareth's brow, but the Sprite paid them no attention, he would have to warn the Palace guards of the wolves before the they appeared. Though there was little hope that Gareth would make it to the Palace before the wolves had appeared in sight, he knew that if he tried, he would at least be able to make it to the fighting and join in upon the brawl.

Gareth began to set aside reserves of strength, knowing fully well he would be forced to use them later. As he came into view of the Palace's guards, he let out a wild yell, crying out in a loud voice, "Alert the guards! An attack upon the Palace is coming!" He shouted several more warnings, hoping they would fall upon the ears of either citizens or the guards themselves. He would then strive to make it towards the gates, intending to help hold off the wolves for more men to arrive on the scene. He wasn't planning on using Arcana yet, no..not until he had enough people here for it to work properly. But once they were here, he had rigged up a nice spell that would prove efficient for the situation.

[Paul Tyndal]

Paul drew closer to the Thanal Mansion, closely tailed by his two new female elven companions and wearing his brand new sabre and cutlass on his hip. He was feeling handsome and smart in his pressed and clean Navy uniform, and did indeed look nice sporting his freshly-cut hair and disciplined walk. His companions, excited about their mission, were chatting among themselves about the coming endeavor.

The first and eldest of the two elves was Nadia Werthyn, a young blonde, mother to the second, who lost her husband about an era ago when he was killed by bandits. During a trip to the docks of Arkdün, the bandit group, a small but vicious group who called themselves the Red Hands, had ambushed the wagon in which they were traveling and killed Nadia's husband after he had taken down several of them and was still fighting, despite numerous wounds. They forced her to watch as they dishonorably slaughtered her husband, and Nadia had sworn revenge at the time. She had grown wiser with her aging and harsh captivity, however, and knew that the group had most likely been caught and hanged, so she had long since dropped her dreams of sweet revenge. These same bandits kidnapped her and her daughter and sold her to the slave trader. Nadia was a quiet but strong woman; she was normally calm and gentle but for her daughter, who she would do anything for.

The second and younger of the two was Waverly Werthyn. Having lost her father at a young age, Waverly was in search of a parental figure (or at least a male figure) in her life. She admired her mother's quiet strength and tried to emulate this though she most likely took after her father. Her rash and impulsive nature was typical of a young, mischievous child. However, she really had an innocent, sweet nature and actually meant no harm. Both were rescued from slavery by Paul during a brief trip taken by him to the dark but magnificent city of Vortex in the slave markets in the caverns of Har'oloth, and now traveled alongside him performing household chores for the at best absentminded Paul. He appreciated the work that both of them did, and rewarded them with the promise of protection and a home alongside him.

He was now traveling to the Thanal Mansion to see if he could get them both a steady job in the machinations of the island Arios, giving them a place to stay beside the small tent in which he usually slept and steady pay. Even though they were not demanding monetary-wise on Paul, he knew that most women wanted to buy mundane and seemingly useless items and trinkets to either wear or admire, and since Paul was an adventurer by trade, he did not have the bank to support these female escapades.

Reaching the mansion entrance, he pushed the door open and entered the public building that housed the leaders of Arios. He headed for the room in which the Guardian Portier made his office, this man the only one he knew, if only by name, and therefore the only one that Paul was comfortable talking with about employment was him. As he approached the room, he beckoned to his two elven friends to stay close so that they would be associated with him, a moderately well-known face on this small island, and be let into the room without question. Entering the room without knocking, he was suprised and embarrassed to realize that he had just intruded upon a heated conversation between the Guardian Portier and a man whom which Paul did not recognize. Quickly apologizing, Paul hastily excused himself and ran outside, followed closely by his two, now confused, companions.

"What did you do?" Nadia asked, speaking for the both of the females. Paul shook his head and muttered something about not being welcome at the time, which did not help enlighten the two elves. Stepping onto the grass and smiling at the guard, telling him that the Guardian Portier was already with a visitor so he would be waiting until he was complete, he drew his sabre and began to play around with it, waving it this way and that, testing his new found sword-wielding abilities. Concentrating heavily on his foot work and staying inside the "zone" in which he was safe to swing as well as avoid attacks on himself from an enemy, he did not notice Gareth's shouts until they had been shouted a second time. Recognizing his friend's voice, he jumped to attention, and judged quickly judged the distance and direction of the shouted warnings.

Thinking quickly, he rushed the two female elves into the building, telling them to warn the Guardian Portier of the coming attack. Not for a moment did he doubt Gareth, knowing that for such a calm person to shout such a warning probably did not bode well for the heads of Arios. Keeping his sabre drawn, he gave quick instructions to the guards, telling them to stay put and guard the entrance, and rushed off in Gareth's direction. Keeping his sabre at the ready, he tuned all of his senses to finding out where the attackers and his friend were.

It was not long before he was able to see the spectres, and only a little while after that before he rushed upon them. Entering the fighting stance that he only hoped was correct, he could not be sure about anything as of now; the frightening ghost-like were-creatures had scared him more than he cared to admit. Swinging his sword for the first time in a real battle, he called out for them to halt and state their purpose.

[O'Brien]

The wolves treked on, oblivious or uncaring to the three adventurers stalking them. Tiarela was closest to the ghostly pack, hopping from rooftop to wooden rooftop with her tiny Fae eyes on them. Somewhere to the east, Gareth drew his short sword with a nice clean sound that the wolves didn't seem to pick up on, and poor Paul Tyndal was caught off guard, fumbling to firmly grip his blade when at last he heard the sprite's alarum. He actually was able to usher the women into the door and stand still against the approaching the beasts as Gareth began his descent towards the mansion. The ceremonial guards had not yet spied the wolves and immediately burst into a panic. They dashed into the front door and closed it, barricading it behind them and presumably keeping themselves and the women safe.

Perhaps Sremalis was right about this island's defenses.

Whether or not it was just a coincidence, the wolves picked up the pace at this point, gliding over the land even quicker until they were about two spits' distance from the largest building on the island. As Tiarela had to speed up as well, Paul stood firm and stared down the wolves. They didn't seem to respond to his challenge, but at this point Paul alone could recognize one wolf as looking of a slightly different tone than the others. The two airborne Fae, their vision obscured by the night, could not differentiate at this point. While most of the wolves remained a dark blue, the one appeared to be of a more light blue, somehow standing out from the rest.

The panicked guards dashed upstairs, with Paul's lady friends following behind. They quickly showed the elves to the Guardian's office before running off into some room or another. Portier seemed a bit peeved to see the women again. "I thought I told you I wath buthy," he began to say, but he was soon cut off by their excited chatter which detailed the situation to him and Sremalis.

"You were saying, sir?" Sremalis asked very shrewdly. "Of course, you have only to say so and I shall go out there and prove my worth. Arios will be safe with me as Constable."

[Tiarela Iceglitter]

Soundless wings beat faster in the surrounding night air as Tiarela Iceglitter continued along her trek, which was getting pretty weird and scary pretty fast. First these visions of things she was trying to disprove, then the cry of some stupid sprite (which most likely was a flashing red light in whatever was down there -- if there was something there-- 's face.) and now the guards at the Palace were going crazy and barring off doors.
Apparently this was either widespread hallucinations, or what she didn't want to think about -- it was real.

Darting around like a shapeless shadow against the velvety midnight blue hues and twinkling specks of sequins that were sewn ever so brilliantly into the blanket of night, Tiarela dropped her altitude and sped around the overhanging shingles now -- trying to figure out exactly what these people were going to be up against. It wasn't like someone so small could prove much help, but then again Faeries were best at gathering information from a vantage point of zero-harm to themselves. Thus was the reasoning for the Fae's observational nature. She watched the Thanal Mansion's doors become barred and realize no one was going to be able to warn the most important person inside that his safety might be in danger, if this stupid Sprite was right -- Guardian Portier himself.
Well, who was going to do it? Surely not those frenzied guards, and not the fat mistake of a faerie, that sprite's shrill girlish voice calling about attacks on the palace when no danger could yet be seen.. But of course, that was probably how whoever was behind this wide spread hallucination in the night wanted. No one could have seen it coming from a distance. They should be grateful Tiarela Iceglitter thought she was seeing things, they should! So who was to get in and see about hiding the Thane if these things were able to breech walls and normal defenses? Who was to hold off these denziens of the night? What the heck was everyone going to do?

The second job was definately not for Tiarela. Faeries just did not like to "fight", or fend off bad guys with physical means. Though, anyone who wasn't even a foot tall, had weak muscles shy their wings and to boot, had brittle bones that would snap in a moment's pressure.. Well, they wouldn't like to fight physically either. No, the faerie way was full of arcana and trickery.. The former being one of the points Tiarela wasn't too versed in as of yet. Trickery though, only required a quick witted mind -- something all faeries posess, of course. Unless they are over the height of a foot, and then sometimes their mind speed is doubted.

On any account, the best thing Tiarela could find to do was try and get inside the Thanal mansion before these crazy visages everyone was seeing but doing nothing about except spreading panic into the hearts of guards. So, with that in mind, she began to make her little path of darting under the cover of things towards the very Thanal Mansion herself, if possible. Of course, she didn't know the guards had gone against what she assumed and expected of them. Therefore, her reasoning for darting towards the mansion at her heightened speed (that of course was the same she'd used to speed up when the lupine figures below had picked up their pace) and began to look for a window that was slightly open for ventilation, or some other means that would let her find her way into the Thanal mansion -- even if it wasn't directly to the room the Guardian was in. She just needed inside for the moment.

Oh, but where would things go from there? What good would it do her if she found a way in, only to not be able to reach the Guardian and give him a long overdue forwarning of what was prowling his way? Well, one always had to think positive. Being pessimistic never really seemed to get anyone very far. And besides! It was the very thing that drooped faerie wings and made them less breath-taking. So Tiarela decided to be confident in herself.. She'd find a way to the acting Thane, even if it took her awhile.
Faes can be important too! I'll show them why the mind is quicker than the sword.

Praise Athernia for giving the fae lithe frames, though! No one else of any race shy a pixie could have even considered accomplishing such a feat. How special and important that made Tiarela Iceglitter feel. So, with her eyes moving between the wolves on the ground to the Thanal Mansion and back again, Tiarela wrought a path for her flight through the darkness of the night.

[Gareth Gruven]

Gareth watched attentively with disgust at the guards' motives. 'Disgusting..' he silently thought as he began the swift descent from the midnight-hued sky towards his good friend Paul. 'It's a wonder how the guards have managed to keep the Guardian himself safe. Just to wonder what would happen if a full-scale army presented itself. And if Olympia never got warning...' Gareth never finished the thought. He didn't want to. Olympia's Navy was the bulk of the Eunesia Isle's army, it wa the most applicable and capable of any military force that existed within the small province. If an army suddenly appeared to take over the islands one by one, they would all stand helpless. Arios would be the first to fall, probably followed closely by Ieffreon. Maybe Olympia would hold out, if they were able to gather enough supplies to withstand a siege.

'Meh..what am I thinking? This is a small pack of wolves, not a full-blown assault with an outstanding innumberable army!' Gareth reminded himself abruptly as Paul came into a clearer view, worry outlining his friend's face. Gareth shouted a Serale to his friend before making the drop down beside him, his own short-sword already drawn and ready, pointed downwards in the wolves' direction. He had not yet reached the ground, but was already calling out a warning to his friend. "Paul! Out of their way, I am willing to bet that casino lot that they have something to do with Arcana!" Gareth yelled worriedly to the Half-Elf. He couldn't risk the possibility of the wolves being able to cast Necromancy themselves...it was always a possibility. "Paul! I have to make sure...track them down and make sure they don't harm anyone...we don't know their intentions!" he yelled once more before changing his direction and dropping down upon beside his friend.

He glanced awkwardly over the to the wolves, silently thanking Carmelya for blessing him with wings before laying the shortsword out upon his lap. "Make sure nobody mistakes me for a Necromancer..." Gareth muttered to Paul before closing his eyes and concentrating upon reaching the State of Clara. He deliberatly began to clear his mind of all thoughts, barring off each and every one as they presented themselves against him. Once, if, he was able to reach Clara, he would be able to check the Astral Plane for nearby essences, almost positive that he would stumble across the shadows of the Infernal Plane.

[Paul Tyndal]

Paul waved at his friend happily, as if none of the frightening spectres in the form of wolves were silently floating by on their way to, presumably, disrupt the government of the small island of Arios. As his friend alighted nearby, however, his face took on a gravity that better represented the current situation and he sheathed his swords as it because obvious that they would be useless. Instead, he took out his bow and quickly nocked an arrow to the slim wooden shaft, pulling back on the taunt thread and readying the arrow for firing. Spotting the bluish tint of one of the wolves, he assumed that this difference denoted some form of leadership and he took his aim. Carefully calculating the wind, which blew with almost an eerie tone across the open landscape of this small island, and taking into account the steady, unwavering movement of the ghost-like apparations that glided towards the mansion that housed the government functionaries, he released his arrow. The thin, straight shaft flew through the air, almost certainly hitting the slow moving target at which it was aimed.

After he had fired off his arrow, he turned to Gareth and was given a few lines of instructions to follow. Ever a complacent follower, he gave no second though to carrying out these instructions and looked around for anyone that might have the gall to attack his friend if they did indeed mistake him for a Necromancer. Even though a follower of the Dark Arts would certainly not be welcome on this island, he was also sure that several people on this magical island practiced this mysterious Dark Art, even if they kept it a secret from their fellows.

Not seeing anyone around at all, much less anyone that would do harm to Gareth as he attempted to cast whatever spell he was working on currently, Paul stepped in line with the shades that took the shape of wolves, jogging parellel to them as they made their way in the direction of the administrative building. This was an easy task as the wolves never changed pace and never turned in either direction, and as Paul came over a hill and saw that the looming structure that housed the government of Arios was directly in the wolves' path, any doubts he might have entertained about the purpose of these spectres of unknown origins were dispersed.

Breaking out into a run, he passed the group of wolves and began to dash for the front door of the administrative building. Pounding on the door loudly, he shouted his name and purpose, hoping that one of his female companions or one of the guards would hear and recognize him and let him in. "I must warn the officials, and make sure this place is barracaded sufficiently," Paul thought, still pounding loudly on the main entrance way. He was fully ready to take charge of the situation here at the administrative building, and was experiencing a strange calm that came over him when a dire situation was at hand and he was in the thick of it. Despite the adrenaline that coursed throughout his veins and peaked his every sense, he did not feel energetic or pumped up; he instead felt passive, almost sleepy, and the knocking slowed.

[O'Brien]

Tiarela Iceglitter

How fortunate that little Tiarela knew what so many mighty warriors had yet to learn, that the sword along could only accomplish so much. Having the dubious distinction of being the most calm of the three adventurers who were presently aware of the wolf pack, The season still being winter, there was no great wealth of open windows, but she was able to find one cracked open slightly, on the second floor and several rooms to the right of the mansion's center. The window being a scant inch open, the faerie found it necessary to crawl through and hold her breath before squeezing into the room. For all she had already seen that night, however, this room was rather unique itself.

She now found herself in some sort of conservatory, almost as green as the Ariosan forest itself. Small potted palm trees lined the far wall, and there was a distinctly warm feeling in the room, despite the cracked window. In a vaguely triangular pattern, three ferns hung from hooks on the ceiling. Directly below the window Iceglitter now stood on was a long trough, used not for feeing horses but as a large pot, which housed a variety of small flowering plants. Such was the whole room decorated, and with the exception of the pots, there were only two places with inorganic materials there. Near the palm trees, there was an old worn desk with six drawers flanking an open space where a matching chair had been tucked in. Upon the desk was a yellowed piece of parchment near an inkpot and qull. The inkpot had an insignia of some sort on it. Across the room from the desk in a corner was a hoe, trowel, and a few other gardning supplies such as mulch and seeds. Contrasting with the rest of the room, whose walls were lined with a fine ivy, the white wooden door leading into the mansion sat as a white island in a green ocean of foliage.

What was this, Carmelya's bedroom?

Gareth Gruven & Paul Tyndal

The sprite and half-elf duo displayed utter grace under pressure, moving with a sort of determination to remain calm in the face of danger. Of course, there's only so much a man can do in the face of a band of marauding spirit wolves. At least they tried. They drew their weapons, but were unable to hide their fear. Tiarela probably noticed this on her gentle flight over to the open window. The wolves probably noticed this too, as they resumed their pace and were headed straight for Paul and Gareth, mere meters away from the ardent team. Gruven sat and tried to achieve Clara, but with the limited time and wolves bearing down on him, there was no way he would be able to make it. Frankly, an Evolved Archmage would have difficulty at that very task, so a lowly Initiate pulling off such a feat would have been extraordinary. At least there was no (reasonable) shame in the failure.

With the doors barred, it seemed that fighting was the only option. Tyndal deftly readied and fired an arrow, but the solid projectile cut through the spectral being as if it wasn't even there. Actually, there was a visible result to the attack. Where the arrow passed through the dark wolf, it appeared as though the arrow had pierced a cloud of gas. A hole opened in the ethereal canine's skin, only to quickly close up again. Well, it was more encouraging than if there had been no result at all. His arrow having fell not far from him, Paul wouldn't have much trouble retrieving the arrow if he went to get it.

Completely unhindered by any of their enemies' efforts, the wolves leaped forth at Paul and Gareth, who squinted their eyes and looked away, unable to watch what would come of the ferocious beasts' attacks. A few seconds passed. Neither sustained any sort of injury, and they certainly still felt alive. Slowly, each looked up around him. Looking the same as before, sans wolves...if this was the afterlife, it was extraordinarily like the regular life. They probably weren't dead. Had it all been a mere illusion?

[Tiarela Iceglitter]

Ha! This proved it, the smarter you are, the more miniscule of a height you have! Tiarela Iceglitter, being only eleven inches tall, had found a way inside!.. Which was more than those crazed morons outside could say for themselves. Yep, if this was something really bad, and Tiarela was the only one who happened to save a life by saying 'Hey, there's these wolf things outside, only they're not real wolves, and they're scaring people and heading your way, HIDE!'.. Well, Arios was going to thank her.

But this room she'd squeezed herself into.. It.. it wasn't a normal, natural run of the mill room. She saw the flowers below her in the trough and tenatively stuck a foot down to touch them in disbelief. Someone was tending plants in a room that very well could have been the rightful patron goddess' room, Carmelya, goddess of Athernia? Look at the place! It was full of life.. and, well, a welcome change from the blustery winter outside. Tiarela was almost lost in the vast wonderfulness of the room. It was so much better than the salty winter ways of the outside.. With it's harsh airs and grumpy people, not to mention wolves that weren't..natural...
Oh wait, that was why she was here in the first place, wasn't it!

The little faerie darted across the room, about to head for the door and find a way out of it when she noticed the gardening tools and the piece of paper with an insignia on it. Now, seeing metals were general shiney, this is why it caught her attention. She fluttered over to the desk and set herself down on it, peering over the parchment curiously. What did it say? She pittered around it for a bit, showing the greatness of posessing a mind that, while being one of the most intellegent in all the Empire, was disctracted by simplistic things. If she couldn't read it from where she was, she'd get herself airborne again and hover over it, trying to figure out what it said. Maybe it was, like, something to do with the mansion's grounds..keeper.. man! Yeah, that was right! Big buildings had guys that were paid to help keep up the area around it and make it look pretty.. Maybe this was like, his bedroom.. or storage room, or something. But did he sleep on a chair? Poor guy, Tiarela knew that if she was a big person, she wouldn't want to sleep on a chair.

On any account, Tiarela's mind kept reminding her of why she was in this room in the first place. The white wooden island of a door stuck out to her as the way to go, but then again she was assuming it was shut -- how was she supposed to get out of this room and into the mansion?..

Well, she was little, right? Okay.. So, after she was done reading, or trying to read/decipher the insigna, she spun around and gazed around the room. Maybe she could knock something over, hide, and someone would come in to see what happened!.. Then she could fly out of the room and continue onwards!... Hmm, but what to knock down?.. Tiarela looked back at the garden tools in the corner, wondering if she might be able to topple one of them as necessary. Knocking a fern down wouldn't create too much noise..
But maybe that wasn't needed. Was there someone actually in here, or coming this way? The little faerie kept herself very quiet, sitting on that desk, and looked around herself, listening closely. Oh man.. what was she going to do, so many options and ideas, and she needed to move quick! Suppose that is the curse of being a faerie.. Being smarter than it is possible to react with each new thought and idea. Let's just hope one of those ideas she had was going to work, and fast...