The Skysail Treasure Co.

In the cold darkness the youth sat still warily awaiting his masters return. In the years that he had been apprenticed to Master Berak the boy had grown from a scraggely boy to a man. The baby fat that had dotted his skin was replaced by smooth muscle. He would never be considered large by any standards, yet it was advantage. People saw what they wanted to see, when they looked at him they pictured someone small, helpless. That would always be their fatal error when they learned his hidden strength.

He was quick, he was agile and he was relentless. These were what made him Maktah...or would. He wasn't quite there yet. However soon, his master had promised he would have the chance to recover his name, to be reborn again. To be a true maktah, an incarnation of death. An assassin for the Jelom Clan.

Heavy steps announced the return of Berak. He sniffed smelling the alcohol reeking from the man. The man was the opposite of himself. Where the youth was small and agile, Berak was a bear of a man with surprising speed. He also seemed to be torn within. At one moment he was a fierce instructor, the next a wisened old grandfather and then there were moments like this. He had only seen Berak drink a handful of times in the years since he had come.

It was a wonder that most of those times had come when he had meeting with the clan head...

The old man sat on the wooden steps the boards creaking under his weight. He was silent for a moment. He let out a breath and beckoned for the youth to sit. The youth sat still doing his part to allow the silence to play out.

"All these years...I never thought I would see it." the old man whispered. He layed out his colloused his hands. "So many dead...so many I killed for this clan for these people. I have trained pups like you and sent you into the world to reap more havoc, to make the clan money." He shook his head.

Juvarians...once they had been a proud kingdom one that spanned the world. They had been rich and powerful in both technology and magic. It was even said that they had airships once long ago too. The youth shrugged at the thought. It didn't matter about the past what mattered was now. Now the kingdom was a handful of clans that used its soldiers as mercenaries to fight in other peoples wars, paid assasins. That was the truth of being a Maktah, that was the path he was on.

The old man shook his head. "Damn them its not fair what they did to you. And time and again I have said it too..." he broke off. The youth offered nothing, there was nothing more to say. It had happened. He no longer had a name, only by becoming this could he have his honor, could he hold on to his promise. "...a storm is brewing boy. Mark my words the world is changing. This empire is nothing more then a swarm of locusts unsatisfied with what they take only wanting more. They are inching slowly to us, taking kindgom by kingdom. It wont be long boy, a few years maybe before this storm bares. And when it breaks so will this world. Other they die or we die."

The old man straightened. "Tomorrow you will face your test. When you pass you will be Maktah and then..." he lowered his voice to a whisper, "...and then you write your own story boy. Dont ever let anyone write it for you."
_____

The past few days had crawled slowly by. Cailey seemed troubled spending most of her hours in medditaional prayer to Nepheli. He understood, it was the first time anyone had questioned her faith. The answers would come to her in time she could not convert everyone to her way of thinking but she also needed to understand that she needed to trust in herself and her own feelings.

The crew seemed nice enough and while he recovered he had little to offer them in repayment. He knew so little of carpentry and these ships that he spent most of his times practicing his own arts. When he wasn't practicing he stood a few watches and went out on short scouting patrols to make sure the locals and anyone was leaving them well alone.

Only the doctor seemed to pay them much of mind. Cailey was recovering nicely from her wound and now that the poison was taken care of the actual wound was merely a discomfort rather then a graveous injury. He had spoken little to the doctor and Cailey with her brooding had grown even more shy. She still kept her eyes on the mages but most of her replys were a handful of words at best. She would talk when she was ready.

As they broke into the forest Drice couldn't help but smile. Cooped up for so long he was anxious to get to do something useful. He took point, that ghost spirit, a chill shuddering down his spine at the thought, vanished into the trees. The dead should stay dead. Death is but a release from the pain that is life. The motto of Maktah.
_______

She opened herself up allowing the flow of nephelis offering to swell within her. She had spent the last three days doing alot of soul searching. She come to terms with many things but had also raised more questions. Her faith in Nepheli was unwavering despite what that toddling old man had said about gods. He had not heard her voice, he had not felt her awe or her love. He was just a lonely and misguided old man. She felt pitty for him.

"Why do you believe?" she whispered to her brother who always made sure he was a couple of steps ahead of her.

"Its simple. You believe. I believe in you."

She nodded she expected as much, not that she deserved it though. She had let him down so many times and still his faith was unwavering. She stumbled losing her concentration. How was that any different then her faith in Nepheli? Maybe that old man was as crazy as she had first thought.

She concentrated on the spells at hand. Once they had come up with this plan she had thought of ways to help out beyond just locating this source of magicite they wanted. She was strong, her teachers were admant on that however because of that strength she was slow in actually creating spells. There were a couple like her Chinkari that came to her naturally without thought and then there were others...like the one she was already calling forth. It would take some time but they seemed to have some walking distance to go yet. She could vaugely feel the source in the distance ahead and it was then that she became aware of something else or precisely someone else ahead. Before she could cry out a warning the spirt called one for her as a man came through the bushes.

The last time she had seen one of these 'locals' as her brother referred to them, the man had planted a spear into her side as Drice dispathed him. Even though it wasn't the same man, she wasn't thinking clearly. She could feel the panic overwhelming her, her heart racing she did the one thing any young scared girl would she screamed...
_____

He was already on edge but even so he was surprised with how quickly the twin blades came free and sliced through the empty air. Well never really thought that would work on spirits anyway, at least he knew now for future reference. He took a step back as the man came into the clearing assessing the threat. He was alone, that would be a fair fight with a Maktah, however his new captain had stressed the importance of not hurting anyone.

Backing another step back he watched him wearily as Cailey began to panic. He cursed himself for not considering it before. The last time she had encountered one of the locals hadn't been a friendly exchange. With the blades at the ready he stepped between the man and Cailey with a sift motion raising his killing veil to hide his face. He held himself back hoping that Cailey would not escalate matters or that one of the others with experience with these people would step in. If not...it was always a good day to die.


ooc: Bel is back! How you been? Oh and you broght X'irah and Rama in this could get interesting..

OOC: Hey Bel. Nice of you to drop by the neighbourhood and glad you want to partake. I'm happy you want to get into the action right away, and help give those people waiting (Huntess, Aposai, Mire, Sao) something to do, and it's what I'm encouraging people do, I'd just have appreciated a little heads up since you're coming in from out of nowhere.

So, a couple things I'd ask from you. 1) Can you throw up your character sheets for everyone to see. The format's at the beginning of the thread. 2) Can you send me a PM of what exactly you're planning. My concern is that we'll have two separate story lines going for two long, and I don't want players to be divided in any way (choose one story line or the other, or decided which char to put more effort into).

For everyone, can you just hold off quickly before posting to Bel's plot until I've given it the greenlight. And, apologies if it seems I'm being anal retentive or anything, I'm just trying to manage the thread to make sure it continues to thrive.

IC:

"And you believe that by telling the second in charge, this Weka'u, he'll be able to remove Pu'aki from power and take his place?" the captain stood cross-armed in his cabin, listening to Arlen's theory.

"I'm not sure sir," the grizzled wanderer admitted.

"It's not that I don't believe you Arlen," he wanted to reassure one of the latest additions to his crew that he trusted the man, "It's just that interfering in a culture we know nothing about may have very unintended consequences, the unpredictable variety, the kind that don't go according to plan." Despite Arlen nodding in agreement, Gabe could see a conviction in his eyes that he believed this was the intended path, and that it was what needed to happen.

Gabe, however, wasn't so easy to convince. Life was rarely so simple and getting involved in something you knew nothing about was like exposing your back to a hungry tiger. In either case, he didn't like the feeling.

"Besides that, it's my experience that the corrupted powerful don't like giving up their power. If he has been siphoning this God's power, what's to stop him from using that power to stop Weka'u? That is of course, assuming he can convince his people that Pu'aki has betrayed their ways."

"That's why we have to help Captain," Arlen said calmly, "And I think that's why we found Cailey and Drice in the jungle. With their help, we and the people here may just have enough power to stop Pu'aki. Alone, they'd be crushed." Gabe got the feeling that saying no to Arlen would feel like saying no to a kid asking for a piece of bread so they could feed a starving dog - like you were the worst person in the world.

Biting his lower lip in contemplation, he regarded Arlen with a look of exasperation that said, "Why me?"

"Captain!" it was Sephara calling him from the deck.

Both he and Arlen cocked their heads toward the noise and began walking towards the door of his cabin, "What the hell are they doing back already?" Down on the deck was the group he sent to find the magicite, and there in the middle of them was one of the islanders. By now, the rest of his crew had heard the commotion and stopped whatever they were doing to come see what was going on.

"That's Weka'u," he heard Arlen whisper from behind him.

"You've got to be kidding me," Gabe blurted a little too loudly. He could feel Arlen grinning proudly behind him.

"Captain Solomon, yes?" the man called Weka'u spoke with a hesitancy that was normal for someone try to communicate outside their normal means.

"Yes," Gabe said as he descended the last of the stairs, "And you are Weka'u. I believe you've already met some of my people before." He tried to talk slower, use simple words, and really enunciate.

"I have," his dark lips curled to return Gabe's smile. "Pu'aki has sent me to check on you. How are your repairs?" He looked around at the newly renovated ship as he asked the question.

"Almost finished," he freely admitted.

"Ah, then you will be leaving the island soon?"

Gabe's smile turned into a scowl, "Hopefully, however, we our power source, the object that makes our ship fly, was damaged during the crash."

"We were searching for a new source when we found you," Sephara added.

"Yes, and I'm afraid without magicite, we're stuck here."

"Ma-ji-site?" Weka'u tried to imitate the foreign word.

Gabe nodded, "Yes, it's what we use for power. It looks like a small stone," he shaped his hands to replicate a piece of the precious material, "But has a translucent and reflective surface."

"You mean Fire Stones," Weka'u replied instantly.

Everyone was more than a little surprised at this revelation. "You know what I'm talking about?" there was a hint of hope in the captain's voice.

"Oh yes. Pu'aki has us collect them from inside T'a'u'weke. We keep them in our sacred place, as close to T'a'u'weke as we can get. Pu'aki says they are gifts from T'a'u'weke. He is always wearing one of the stones as part of his chieftain's necklace."

Arlen had stepped up to stand directly beside Gabe now, and they exchanged a silent conversation that ended with Arlen shaking his head in disbelief. "Do you remember seeing it?" he asked Aram. Sephara, unfortunately, had not met with the islanders leader.

Aram frantically searched his memory, "I don't know," he said at first, "I- I- do remember seeing something shiny around his neck. But I didn't think twice about it. We weren't very close to him, I didn't get a good look so I can't be sure." He gave an apologetic look.

Gabe dismissed the look immediately. For a long while Gabe and Arlen just looked at each other. Finally, Gabe closed his eyes, nodded, and Arlen stepped forward.

"Weka'u," he spoke tentatively, "I have something to share with you..."

-o0o-

Recounting the story for everyone and listening to the subsequent opinions had taken them well into the afternoon. The sun had traveled past it's zenith, and was halfway towards the edge of the sky when they had finished. They had created a large circle where everyone could have an equal voice. Some stood, many had found a crate or barrel to sit on. But everyone looked tired of talking and ready to make a decision.

"We have three choices, that I can see," he would summarize for everyone to make sure it was clear, "The first. We try to sail to Gebron. This will take at least another week from here, probably ten days in all likelihood. We risk starvation in that time period with food supplies being so low already."

"Not too mention none of us have probably done any real sailing in our lives," Kaltor commented.

"I have," Arlen raised his hand.

"Have you ever held your breathe under water for more than three minutes," the pirate asked with a cold expression on his face.

"Can't say I have."

"Then I suggest shutting up," he stared with fury.

"Enough," Gabe raised his voice, but more than a few people had chuckled at the exchange and it quickly turned into a communal joke. "Carrying on. Our second choice. We tie up Weka'u here, and carry out the original plan, and find our own piece of magicite. Sorry Weka'u," he added with a helpless shrug. The islander wasn't sure how he was supposed to reply to that, so he just stayed still and shifted his eyes towards the sky.

"Finally, we help these people get rid of Pu'aki, who is stealing T'a'u'weke's powers to sustain his life and gain power." He didn't feel the need to emphasize the downsides of this option. They had been emphasized enough over the past few hours.

"Let's vote. All for Option One?" There was silence.

"All for Option Two?" Kaltor looked like he was about to say something, but then quickly bit his tongue when realized he'd be alone in the endeavour.

"Option Three?" A chorus of ayes answered him, and he could see a relived smile upon Weka'u's face. "Very well. Gear up everyone. We leave in fifteen minutes."

OOC: Assume we've left for your next posts. We're almost there people! ^_^

...

OOC: I can assuade some of your reservations, Geco. Bel and I are, obviously, in league. I gave him the run-down of Kellan history, of which Phoenix is making all the better with his posts. The rest is all him. I don't really know much about his characters other than he's used them before.

IC:
Three days of putting a ship back together were not spent with too much for a mage to do. There was, witha great deal of relief, no other action from the pirates they'd so desperately escaped from since thier last encounter. For that, Cyradis was quite thankful. With the Dawn stranded one the island, thy had nowhere to run should an all-out battle take place. Not to mention they were very liekly outnumbered. Still, Cyradis had to wonder why the hadn't persued them and proceeded to loot the Dawn. It was a big ship, and a lot of the engine parts were quite valuable as salvage or spares.

Such thoughts were on Cyradis' mind as the group made its way through the jungle once again. She expected at any moment for a mob of men to burst from the foilage and attack. The relative peace in which the young mage Cailey walked was somewhat reassuring, however. Her ability to sense people without them first drawing in magic made her the perfect ambush detector. Plus, they had the aid of an invisible ghost. Cyradis had ot admit his mere presence was unsettling. Before, ghosts had only existed in her childhood nightmares, and spirits tended to be less... well... permenant.

Cyradis returned her attention to Cailey as she walked ahead of her. It was difficult to grasp how one so young could be as adept as she. Her specific brand fo magic was also unlike anything Cyradis had seen in Kell. It seemed to be more of a divine gift than practiced aptitude. Perhaps it was. Over the last few days, Cyradis often saw the quiet girl in meditation. Both her and her brother were quite a pair. They seemed alike enough to be twins, yet held few similarities in appearance. (OOC: I thought I read somewhere they were step-siblings. Disreguard if I'm mistaken) One thing was certain, however, Drice's devotion to her was unwavering.

Cyradis was snapped out of her thoughts when the ghost, Jacob, reappeared in front of them, warning them of the presence of one of the natives nearby. Sure enough, seconds later, one slid from the trees as if he were as invisible as Jade's brother. His only words were that of his curiosity to see the Dawn. Not being very far from the ship, the group elected to take him to see Gabe.

The rest of the afternoon was spent in talk. Like she often did, Cyradis remained silent throughout. Gabe welcomed discussion, but she still had no told him about her past. Each time she got the nerve to see him, she would only falter before talking to him, and return to whatever she was doing before. Her hesitation was inexplicable. She knew Gabe wouldn't throw her out on the beach and take off without her. But she did know Kellan military mages were not welcome in common society. After the final battle with the Dominions, few people looked at Kell or its people in the same light as they had before the war. She suspected even now some of the crew still tended to skirt the edges of friendship. Not all of them, though. And not Archamae.

After the decision had been made, a late lunch was served. It seemed the freshness of the more enjoyable foods had reached the point of no return as Aram began disbursing some finer choices than normally rationed. Cyradis sat leaning against the rail in the shadow of the newly installed mast. Arch joined her and offered her some small round fruits, which she accepted with a smile. In the same moment, Arch asked again about Kell. Cyradis spent a couple extra chews on one of the fruits to dely her response. The pilot expressed more interest in Kell than most diplomats to visit the valley.

"It was normal enough, I suppose. Running and playing in the forest and causing trouble for my parents. My mother used to try so hard to teach me a skill I could use after I got married, like sewing or cooking. That was before the University found me. Babies born in the capitol are found very quickly, but those of us in the border towns were less obvious to the seekers. After that, though, the University dispatched a tutor to live in the village and guide my lessons. A few years later my father was conscripted and I was moved to Kellei, the location of the University, with my mother. By the time I graduated, the war was in full swing."

Cyradis stopped herself. Many memories of the time after her graduation were not ones Archamae would likely feel comfortable hearing. The songs and poems of heroic battles and bloodless wars were pure fiction compared to the actual events of the battle after which the songs were written. Cyradis decided to change the gears on Archamae, and get her own thoughts off less pleasant things.

"So what about you?" she asked with noticably more cheer, "I can tell you're from the north, but I've never been further north than Vetemire Pass."

...

OOC: You've nothing to worry about, Geco. All of Rama's history will likely run together with Shari and Phoenix's little... history lesson? Once the airship finds its way to a seaport, so shall Rama and his crew (if anyone chooses to be part of it). Any NPC's I create will be discarded at that point. Also, Rama is my only character for now. I really like X'Irah, but there's already a female mage (thxalotshari) and a lot of other female characters. Need to add some counterbalance to all that. Anyway, on with character sheets, since you've asked for them. I'll inclue X'Irah just in case.

---

Name: Rama Morell
Gender: Male
Age: 30
Race: Human
Profession: Soldier, Captain
Description: Rama has dark blonde, almost brown, hair and brown eyes. He is 6'2" tall and very well built. He has a number of scars on his arms and legs, usually hidden by his attire.
Personality: Before X'Irah went missing, he was kind and respectful of everyone. He was quick to help and easy to get along with. After his sister went MIA and the war ended, Rama retruned home much colder and brutal then before. The community chalked this up to the bitterness of the war, and they weren't far from the truth.
Special Abilities: Rama is an expert with a shield, sword, and spear. He is also extremely capable in heavy plate armor and against seemingly impossible odds. He fights best with a sword, and is very knowledgeable of military tactics and manuvering. Beyond that, he is capable of making repairs to his armor and weapons.
History: Rama had a troubled childhood, being orphaned at only 14 years of age. He was left to care for his sister, a gifted mage, for many years until the University discovered her. After she was accepted, Rama joined the Kellan military to pay for debts owed by his deceased parents. Years passed and both he and X'Irah decided to remain in the military to save money and eventually settle a farm. As fate would have it, Rama was dispatched to the border town of Karamar shortly after visiting his sister in Kellei. It was there the Dominion invasion began, and marked the darkest chapter in both countries' history.
Race/Tribe: Kellan. While Kell is known for the power of its mage class, the strength of its legions became famous - or infamous - during the Dominion War.

---

Name: X'Irah Morell
Gender: Female
Age: 25
Race: Human
Profession: Soldier, Arch Mage
Description: X'Irah has dirty blonde hair and blue eyes. She stands at 5'8" and is of an average build.
Personality: X'Irah's devotion to Rama borders on fanaticism. She would do anything for him - and has. She is genuinely kind and caring for most other people, but also fierce and dangerous in combat. Frontline experience mixed with Arch Mage training has turned her from a frivilous magic user to a deadly battlefield weapon. She laments the things she's done in service to Kell, but harbors no regrets for her actions.
Special Abilities: X'Irah specializes in the manipulation of the Ice element. Anything from frozen spears to hailstorms of razor-sharp icicles. Her abilities earned her the loving title "Frostbite" among her fellow legionaries.
History: Following the withdrawl of the Dominion forces, a tense calm befell the land of Kell. Any reports of suspicious activity were met with entire centuries of investigators. One such report resulted in the disappearance of X'Irah and her unit in the mountains over the village of Tsav, who were dispatched to investigate. Nine months later, the High Council has decided to send one of thier best to find the missing unit.
Race/Tribe: Kellan.

---

Let me know if it's all okay. I'd like to get posting again :)

Drice frowned but remained silent as the others discussed the new options. He was of mind simply to carry out the original plan and discard this liability into the sea. However the captain although not a coward seemed squemish when it came to those type of things. He had no doubt that if he felt that Drice or Cailey were a threat to his crew he would have them executed but he seemed to need a reason. It was a refreshing change, but one that made him feel frustrated. It limited your options, it twisted things.

A Maktah was trained specifically. Every cut was killing blow, every move was meant for reason. There was no wasted effort no wasted time. Cut...kill...that was what he knew. Now though he would have to be more contained.

As they decided on their new option he considered the twist. This was a different set of scenarios ones that didn't feel quite right. It was like before he was just going with the flow. That had nearly gotten Cailey killed last time. How strong was this Paku whatever? How much resistance would they receive from the locals, removing a figure head was never as simple as they made. You normally had to gut the entire infrastructure that was rotted to the core. He should know, he had done it a few times.

"What's do we do?" Cailey whispered as she shuffled beside him. She seemed like she was straining with something. Her face was still flushed and she seemed embarrassed by her earlier actions during the encounter.

The jungle reminded him of home. It wasn't as hot there but the vast amount of trees. His body ached and his gut clinched. A forest that no longer existed. It was just an empty wasteland a final burial to Jelom clan.

"You remember that smash and grab stunt in Deksher?"

Cailey nodded a smile playing at her lips.

"Same idea just remember you stay well enough back near the other mages and give me a two count." He paused. "Its okay you know. None of the others will care how you reacted."

She blushed. "But...what if I panic again."

He shrugged. He hated her parents even more for that thought. She was 12 she shouldn't have to be worrying about this. If only....if only was in the past it made no difference now. They just had to continue to forge ahead. "You wont." he said firmly. "I know you, it wont happen."

The captain called the group for a short break as food was divided out. Drice ate nothing instead packing it away in a bag and handing his share to Cailey. From his experience he would be fine but Cailey would burn through alot of energy fast when the battle started. Food tended to help mages cope and regain their stamina. He had bad feeling Cailey was going to be called on.

He sat close to the Captain he had barely spoken a few times to the man but there were things that needed to be discussed. "I have had some experience in these type of things." Drice confided watching to see who was listening. "A plan is only as good as the paper its written on until it starts, but so far you haven't told us what we are really getting into. How strong is this Packu whatever? And how many of the locals should we be expecting to rush to his aide. Its my experience that usually these power hungry leaders tend to have a few like minded individuals that wont want us just instilling a new government."

OOC: I'll take your word for it then Bel, post away. IC to follow later.

IC:

The pungent and rich stench of hookah smoke wafted through the open doorway from the main room. It mixed with varying types of alcohol and made her head feel lighter than normal for a moment, until her training took over. Like a natural born instinct, she refocused on her purpose here, concentrated, and removed the distraction. When her eyes opened everything was as it should be.

She was standing in a fairly large room at the end of a curved hallway. No regular tavern would have a space like this. But then again, this wasn't a regular tavern. A large table occupied the bulk of the room, with a few cupboards and shelves around the walls. The dim lighting provided by the few wall lamps had turned her hair burgundy. She studied herself in the glass of a painting depicting a group of monks studying some dusty tomes. Not bad, she thought. Perhaps she'd change her hair to this color permanently.

Her attention shifted back to the rectangular table. On top of the table had been placed a world map of fairly detailed design. A pane of glass covered the map, to protect the elaborate artistry, and small miniature figurines and flags had been placed all around. It was a current depiction of the world today.

In the middle of everything was the Haloed Sea, surrounded by land masses on each side. The northern chunk was white, nothing but a freezing cold wasteland. The scene on the western and eastern continents almost mirrored each other. In the north, large amounts of the same flags had been placed, far outdoing any of the nations that were represented. To the west was the black and white of the Dominian, while the gold, red, and white of the Confederacy was on the east. South of either great power were scattered flags of the various nations, kingdoms, and city-states.

The southern continent caught her attention because of the lack of models there. It was a mysterious land that not many people ventured too. The ways of the people there were simply too different. Most of the land was a desolate desert, and many believed that living under the sun for too long had muddled the peoples brains.

"How'd we do?" a scratchy, yet deep and imposing voice boomed from the doorway.

She looked up, and saw the bulky outline of the man she'd come to meet. She studied the western half once more quickly, and pointed to a central territory, "The Dominians claimed this range of hills just across the Talis border a few weeks ago, but other than that, I'd say you're good." She smiled with thin, glossy lips.

The Bull snorted, and quickly corrected the map. She used the opportunity to look him over in full as he did. Muscles bulged visibly through his military uniform. A great mane of dirty blonde hair spread in every direction, and a great beard of only slightly darker hue covered his face. He kept one eye half closed, and she'd heard plenty of stories as to why, but doubted she'd yet heard the truth. The man was squarely built, and big, that's why they called him the Bull.

"We're fighting an invisible war right now," he gestured towards the Dominian Empire, "These Dominian folk are powerful, and aggressive. With their technological and military prowess, it's only a matter of time before the whole damned continent belongs to them. And after that, they'll start looking this way. That is, if they're left unchecked."

She already knew about this invisible war as he called it. She was one of the soldiers. An unseen presence quietly working behind the scenes to indirectly fight an enemy that posed a possible distant threat. She loved it.

He held up a finger, and pointed it towards the other major power, the newly formed Crimson Sun Confederacy. The Confederacy was a once autonomous league of independent states that united under one of the most charismatic men ever to wield power in this world -Balen Linth. With a drop of blood the man convinced 7 of the 9 league members to abandon their individual sovereignty to a greater communal power, the Confederacy. The foundations of the league were built on tremendous political and diplomatic acumen, and it was how they'd pressed forward ever since.

Balen had been great, not because he was a saint or a selfless leader, but because he was able to expose and exploit weakness. The man, if the history books were true, was uncanny. He'd bribe, blackmail, extort, ransom, whatever it took to apply to exact right amount and type of pressure to get the people sitting on the other side of the table from him to fold.

"Negotiations are moving, but slower than the Senators would like," the Bull continued.

"You can speak plainly with me sir," she replied.

His eyes sized her up for a moment, then he smiled broadly, "My apologies. One gets into the habit of using such terminology for the commons." She simply nodded her head at that. "The Senate is confident we'll be able to add another three or four of the smaller lands by years end, but the coastal regions are a different story. Most are rich are able to trade for any resources they don't readily have. A much more thorough investigation is being conducted," he meant acts of espionage of course, "But we need to buy some time."

"The Coalition is fighting the Dominian to a stand still. But it could crumble at any moment, that's the probably with coalitions. Gebron is what we're most worried about right now," he pointed to a small city-state in the interior of the continent. "Reports are in that one of the Triumvirate is in favor of joining the Empire."

"And that wouldn't be good for the Coalition," she add coyly.

"Nor us," his voice was stern, "I've received reports that you're reliable, and discreet. That's what we need right now."

"What's the job sir?"

"Persuade the councilman to reverse his position, or find an alternative solution. Whatever you do, it must not be connected to the Confederacy."

She purred delightedly, "Consider it done sir."

-o0o-

Meg was starting to fall behind on her timeline. The crash had been inconvenient for her, but very convenient for someone else. The more time that ticked by the greater to chances of her failing. And yet she remained calm, she had to. She watched from the topdeck as the crew shuffled about, doing this or that. They were supposed to be getting some magicite so they could finally get off this rock. Her eyes found the captain and settled on him for awhile. She hoped he didn't get himself killed. He still had a part to play in all this.

"I have had some experience in these type of things."

"So, you say the Fire Stone is passed down from chieftain to chieftain, Weka'u?" Arlen asked the chieftain-to-be. The decision has been passed by all, with it seemed a couple of individuals somewhat leaning to another option. Of course, the vigorous swordsmen, Arlen silently thought. People always thought that Arlen's years meant decrepitude. There was as much strength in his body currently as in any professional soldier's. Indeed, there was a time that they lived side by side in harmony... Far more years past than Arlen wished to admit.

Weka'u nodded, solemnly, understanding what Arlen was going to ask him. "Yes, it has been passed down for at least a hundred chiefs. I am of their line. There is another line now, in the Exiles, too."

"I have had some experience in these types of things. A plan is only as good as the paper it's written on until it starts, but so far you haven't told us what we are really getting into. How strong is thsi Packu whatever? And how many of the locals should we be expecting to rush to his aide? it's my expereince that usually these power hungry leaders tend to have a few like-minded individuals that won't want us just instilling a new government."

The salt and pepper strands of Arlen's hair was sticking to his forehead. He had gotten rid of the braids and cut it shorter because of the heat days ago. Though he put it in a ponytail now, some shorter strands managed to escape the tie he bound it with. It pained him, but he had considered putting it into the traditional top bun of his people for this endeavor. Arlen looked into Weka'u's brown eyes, "You understand, that you will never wear that necklace now? At least, not with that stone. Are you alright with this?"

"That is inconsequential to me. It is just an object, cursed as it is now," Weka'u shook his head. He broke his stare with Arlen and looked to the trees. "What bothers me is that my father will be killed. He has committed a gross crime against our True Father and against my people for this. His very son, Tipali, from many years before me. Still..." His head lowered, "He is my father."

Arlen nodded with understanding. "I have no father, Weka'u. Though I have had many that have made themselves my fathers. Be a good leader, and show them what a pure man can be. Your people will be as they once were, great and powerful, if you teach your sons well."

The talk seemed to uplift the man. Both of them, in honesty. Arlen was feeling that the right choice had been made. This is what he traveled for. Fixing the mistakes he made. Enriching the lives of others, instead of causing the loss he had before. Great or small. He put his hand on Weka'u's shoulder and stood. "Good. Tell me about the temple on the way. Let's take our time thinking this through. If we do it right, there should be no blood lost."

Turning to Gabriel and the newcomer, Drice, Arlen walked over. "Few. Probably just his closest guard," he interrupted. "Considering Weka'u is his son, and he is willing, he might be able to sway some to our aid, if not all. What I am most worried about are those tending to the temple." He crouched next to them both, mostly to speak on their level. "They might have been offered some abilities by Pu'aki that are... more potent than normal? It seems that I know much of the island, but almost nothing about Pu'aki's goings on or of anything INSIDE the temple. Weka'u will gladly tell me what he knows."

Arlen tapped on the ground with his finger. Intent on getting the point across. "Pu'aki is the key, but the stone around his neck is not enough to power the ship. We'll need to go to the temple to get enough to refine."

Cyradis watched Archamae's head drop. Her lips moved and sounds were made. She felt the muscles on the back of her neck tense as a shiver went down her spine, despite the heat of the island. The sheer amount of confusion and misdirected thoughts all vying for her attention left her frozen, speechless, staring at the pilot. Her face was blank as her mind tried to process everything she wanted to do or say.

There was every emotion and every action to go along with it. Anger, sadness, fear, regret, and even understanding somewhere deep in the back. She wanted to yell and cry and blame Archamae for everything, as if she were the only Dominion solely responsible for the war. At the same time, she could see the distress on the pilot's own face. Her own personal scars were as clearly visable as physical ones.

Finally, Cyradis turned away from Archmae, her eyes fixed on a distant cloud. Her chind began to quiver as her throat swelled. Emotion, as it turned out, won her internal battle. She abrubtly stood as her vision became foggy with tears. She quickly swiped them away and with a tremendous amount of effort, suppressed them from returning. Ahead of her, Gabe and a handful of other crewmen were gathered around discussing the impending coup of the local tribal leadership. Cyradis found her legs were all too willing to move her away from Archamae, and she was standing next to Gabe before even deciding what to say.

"Captain," she began, her choked voice cracking on the first syllable. She cleared her throat and continued, "Captain, I don't think I'll be joining you for this. It seems you're attempting to keep destruction to a minimum, and I would not want to scare any of the innocent from trusting thier new leader." It was strange how much sense her words made, but in truth, she didn't want her current state of utter shock and confusion to suddenly come out in the midst of battle, should one ensue.

"I'm sorry, Gabe, I've had enough war for one lifetime," she dropped her head slightly, and turned away as she felt the tears making a comeback. This time, her legs took her belowdecks without any real direction from her brain. In her cabin, behind a locked door, Cyradis sat on her bed, feeling numb. It wasn't long before everything she'd supressed boiled over the surface and the distrught Kellan was face-down in her pillow, giving the down-filled sack the full force of her rainbow of emotions.

There was a purpose and determination in the way Drice stood that most common sailors didn't show. What he'd found out about the man and his sister since he'd agreed to provide them sanctuary was virtually nothing. And yet the man displayed an oddly familiar presence to Gabe, like he already understood his ways, as soon as he found out what those were. He was resolved to doing so was this escapade was over.

"A plan is only as good as the paper its written on until it starts, but so far you haven't told us what we are really getting into. How strong is this Packu whatever? And how many of the locals should we be expecting to rush to his aide. Its my experience that usually these power hungry leaders tend to have a few like minded individuals that wont want us just instilling a new government."

A soldier didn't need the why, just what the job was, how to do it, and when. Drice looked like any old common brute, and had surprised Gabe with the fact that he had thought about the finer points of the plan. From his look, Gabe had thought the most thinking he did was deciding whether to kill people with his left or right sword. Judging by their being on this island, something had happened, and recently, and it had give the intimidating fighter a new perspective on things.

Drice alluded to his past a bit, but Gabe thought it better to question him later, "Trust me," he said smile, "I think the same way. Unfortunately, I really don't know what we're getting into or how strong Pu'aki is. However, most power hungry folk don't like sharing, so if he has an inner circle it's probably relatively small. From the sounds of it, the general populace is just unaware of what is really taking place."

Gabe mulled over the scenarios in his head quickly, "We go in passive. If we come in with swords drawn and looking hostile no one will believe us. Being calm and letting Weka'u speak the truth is the best bet. Then we push, gently. Get Pu'aki to make the first move against us. He'll have exposed himself and given our claims legitimacy."

"From there, we push him out of the village. If a showdown takes place, I want it to happen away from where innocent people can be hurt. After that..." he drifted away inhaling deeply, "Your guess is as good as mine as to what the outcome will be."

"If you do have any bright ideas though, now's the time."

Just then Cyradis came running up to him. Her eyes looked puffy and pink, like she'd been crying or was about to cry. "I'm sorry, Gabe, I've had enough war for one lifetime," she dropped her head slightly and ran off below deck before he even had a chance to say anything.

In the direction where she'd come from was Archamae, who wore a guilty and pained expression like she was confessing to a priest. What the hell is going on? And why the hell did it have to happen now?

"Sorry Drice, I need to go figure out what's going on." He hurriedly made his way into the Dawn's belly and found Cyradis' quarters.

"Cyr," he called evenly into the door, but received no reply. "Cyr!" he tried again, louder this time, but still nothing. When he tried to turn the knob he found it locked, luckily he'd anticipated that. Removing a small ring of keys from inside his vest, he placed one into the door and turned it and the knob all in one motion, and waltzed quickly into the room before the mage had time to react.

Cyradis had gone into a full meltdown, and look disheveled on top of her pillow, and more than a bit startled to see him standing there.

"What? You think I don't have keys to all the locks on board my own ship." She rolled her eyes and planted her face firmly back against her pillow, clearly unhappy with the obvious answer.

"I'm sorry to intrude on you like this, but we don't have time for whatever this is. You need to talk to me and help me figure this out, because we," he paused for a second, "...I need you to come with us and support us. I'm not sure what we're getting ourselves into, but I know it always power way beyond what I and what most of the rest of us possess. Without you, we won't last long out there." He let that last line stew for a moment, "Talk to me Cyr. Please."

Cyradis lifted herself into a sitting position. Gabe, at risk of injury or death, had given her little choice in her options. She really had nowhere to go and be alone, other than the jungle. Recent events there tended to direct her away from the increasingly hostile interior of the island.

Her eyes were puffy and a little red when she turned them to Gabe, "I don't want to talk about it, captain." The look on Gabe's face gave her effortless attempt to get him to leave her alone no chance of success. She sighed and rose to her feet, crossing the room to the door. She pushed the apparantly useless barrier shut and moved back past Gabe to her dresser.

"Do you know what it means to be a Kellan, Gabe?" Cyradis wiped her eyes, now significantly less inflamed, and pulled open her top drawer. From within, she took out a small metal box. "You've been to Kell. Do you remember who greeted you there?" She opened the box and lifted a round object attached to a sturdy chain from within it. "It was legionaries with armor and weapons and glares on thier faces. Anywhere else in the world you'd be greeted by a fat porter with nothing on his mind but money or what might be of vlaue in your cargohold."

Cyradis stepped up to Gabe and held out the object she was holding. She placed the round, glowing medal into his waiting palm, "That is the Kellei University's highest honor, the Seal of Karatam." The medal was a simple silver ring, but when held to the light, the ring acted as a focus of the latent magical energy in all things. As Gabe lifted the medal, it sprang in to life, casing glowing rays of almost every color from its center.

"I was awarded that after graduating to the rank of Arch Magus." Gabe's attention was drawn away from the medal as the words left her mouth, but Cyradis' eyes were lowered when he sought to meet them. Finally, she met his gaze and took a deep breath. After all that resolve to tell him, how was it that she would would be impulsively open only after learning one of her closest friends was her sworn enemy?

"Archmae is Dominion. I trust I do not need to explain what that means to a Kellan officer. Her birthplace is not her fault, and so far, she's done nothing to suggest she is my enemy, but you must understand. Kell and Dominia are still at war. The fighting may have stopped for some time now, but it is not over. They will attack again, and when they do, I can't afford to have a friend among thier ranks."

Cyradis reclaimed her medal and returned it to the drawer. She sat back on her bed and closed her eyes, swallowing hard. "Until I figure out where I am with Archamae, I can't trust myself to use magic. Control is key, and in my current state, I would likely do more harm than help. I can't even get the medal to glow..."

She sighed and looked back at Gabe, "Now, if you're satisfied, I'd like to be alone for a while."

...

The wind spoke softly through the leaves gathering momentum. A slight chill ran down the youth's spine. Two years he had been training. Two years he had dedicated himself to the principles of death. All of it rested upon this moment. He stilled himself, pushing the fear away he would not fail. He would not break his promise. Today he would be reborn, today he would recover his name.

The setting sun hid behind the old man. Berak frowned watching the youth. He huffed and pulled a long slender box from behind him. "Today you enter this room a boy, you will leave in the arms of the goddess or you will be reborn as a Maktah. Only you can decide it. Do not have it said that you have not been armed either here..." he pocked the youth in the head, "...or here..." he pocked him again in the chest and paused. "Or here." he opened the box revealing two long knives.

"These are the twin blades, life and death. The Zorlin shapes that your own father once weilded. Today the past will to see you to your future." The youth tentaviley ran his fingers upon the hilt of the blades in awe of the craftsmanship...they had been his fathers? But...it only mattered if he lived. He could ask then.

Berak nodded to a small building behind him. "Within this building is your first contract. Four souls reside in the building behind me. They are cons sentenced to death." he paused taking in the youth. "One of them is innocent. Your fate is in your hands. Succeed and you will be reborn, fail and you will die and they will be set free. Go boy..."

The youth took a deep breath steadying himself. Pulling the twin blades from their resting place he stalked towards the building finding the weapons remarkeably similar in weight and balance as the training sticks Berak had drilled him. Was it coincidence or had the old man given him extra help? Again it was another question one that did nothing but distract him from the situation at hand.

One was innocent...three guilty. But how was he supposed to know which one? How could he tell? He doubted it would be as easy as them announcing themselves. He cleared his thoughts. If he failed his life would end and Cailey...

With a snarl he kicked open the door tucking and diving into a roll as a bolt shot outside. He heard someone curse and then the rest became confusion in battle. He came out of his roll and slashed catching one of the cons by surprise and twisting one of the shapes through his rib cage. With a vicious kick he pulled the blade free throwing the dying body to the ground.

The second one came at him, his face pale from freight. The youth parried his un disciplined swing and deflected the blade away. With two slashes the unprotected man fell gurgling as the blood poured from his exposed jugular. Two down.

He heard the twing as the bolt chewed through the air glancing off his shoulder. He focused on the her as she reloaded clumsily. Even as he moved he knew her to be innocent one and yet it didnt matter, he didnt hesitate. He released the blade in his right hand, spinning through the air end over end. The adrenaline had obviously taken over for the blade hit her midchest with enough momentum that she staggered back several feet into the wall. Her eyes cried out to him and he ignored her searching for his final target.

The axe swung slicing through the empty air where his head had once been. He turned on the attacker catching him with a jab to his throat and a kick to his groin. The axe fell to the ground and the youth slashed three times. The man was dead before his body touched the ground.

A soft applause drifted from the doorway. "You did well Drice Malehn. Today your are Maktah." he paused walking to the fallen woman. With a sickening twist he freed the blade and tossed it to Drice's feet. "You learned your final lesson today. There are no innocents on the battlefield. The word innocent is a prespective one that you do not have the luxory of pursuing in the course of a fight. Engrave that lesson in your mind Maktah, for it surely keep you alive.
______

He licked his lips and tried to hide the frustration in his eyes. They were binding him in what he could do. This plan might be moraly correct but regardless of their morals it put him and Cailey in immediate danger. The one who made the first move always had the upper hand in battle. He watched as the captain went after the other mage.

That wasn't good either. He had been counting on her to check any magic these locals came with. Now that job was going to be in Cailey's hands. He looked at his sister. No he wouldn't forget the lesson his master taught him. There were no innocents in war....

OOC: I didn't like it, so i'm rewriting it.

OOC: This should make a little bit more sense. I'm just not sure how to have arlen react. if at all. I think this would be better.

sorry for my inability to coherently write, as of late. :\

IC:


Standing from his crouch, it seemed that things occurred in front of Arlen that could unravel the whole coup. He was tired. He was hungry. Now, he was getting angry. Very much unlike his normal laid back self. This had to happen quickly. Weka'u had been here for quite some time.

His gaze fell upon the young man, a warrior of some experience. Arlen could remember the boy curled up on the floor of the medical ward, his sister on the table attempting to heal. Every time he'd seen him since, he'd had those blades firmly affixed on his person. At times, Arlen could have sworn he stroked them almost out of compulsion. Almost as if they were a specter of the past, haunting him, and the only way to quiet the beast was to acknowledge it with a caress. Something Arlen was somewhat understanding of.

It suddenly struck him. "The ghost," Arlen said and grinned. Quickly spinning around he spotted Weka'u, a little agitated that he'd stayed so long and things were already falling apart. "You might not have to worry too much longer, boy," he told the young fighter, as he walked away.

A few determined and heavy steps on the deck of the ship, and Arlen was upon Weka'u. "Come with me, sir. I have a plan," Arlen quickly said and gently pulled the chief-to-be by the arm and down the deck further to a lovely young lady by the name of Jade.

"So... Where's that ghostly brother of yours we were all introduced to earlier? I think I have a job for him." Arlen's gaze looked glassy with his tired look, but the anger that once licked his belly had mostly subsided, replaced with hope. "I need him to take all the garbage that an interplanar being has shoved into my head and put it in his," he motioned to the native man at his side. Weka'u was thoroughly confused as to what was going on, and probably also Jade.

"Beside the fact that we'll probably need him to make sure Pu'aki has no hold on this world, once we destroy his body. I hope he doesn't try to anchor himself to T'a'u'weke and return in full force at another time in another body," Arlen tapped his lips. "Although... Hmm... Sephara?" His hand waved the thought away.

"First things first, I need to know if it is possible."

"Very well. Gear up everyone. We leave in fifteen minutes." The tone was not meant to be harsh, but something inside Jade jumped by the sound of the command. She avoided to look at Jasper, feeling his eyes upon her. Perhaps the rest of the crew had noticed nothing, but Jasper knew. He had seen it so many times before, when she had tried to hide it from him. Quickly, to avoid his stare, she turned around and headed downstairs where she busied herself with packing, or rather re-packing her medicine bag. Jasper wasn't far behind. He entered in silence, giving her a piercing look, which she again avoided by carefully replacing one item with another in the bag.

<You are not well>

She ignored him, but knew he was right. The nightmares had returned and she could feel herself distancing herself from the others a little bit more every day. Darkness had began to fill her mind again, darkness and fear, and there was nothing she could do to hinder it from growing. He was behind her, placing a warm hand on her shoulder and she tried to resist a shudder by his sudden touch.

<Don't think I didn't feel that>

"Don't be silly," she said with a hearty voice pulling away from him. "I'm fine." At least she had still control over her own voice.

<You may be plenty of things sister, but fine ain't it.>

She took a deep breath and gave herself a moment to gather herself before turning around and finally meeting his gaze. His eyes were worried, she could tell. He seemed almost alive again, as he gave her the same look he had given her more than four years ago. Mustering what could possibly, with much will, be interpreted as a genuine smile she said:

"You worry too much. It's just a couple of bad dreams is all."

<I don't really sleep you know> Jasper replied, eyes slightly narrowed. <You have been talking in your sleep, and...>

They were cut off as Arlen entered with Weka'u. Jade brushed a strand of hair from her face, giving her another moment to remove her troubled eyebrows and replace it with a smile. The small crease quickly re-appeared though as Arlen spoke.

"I'm sorry but I'm not sure I understand," Jade said in reply, sounding a bit distressed, "but.."

"but I'm right here," Jasper filled in as he materialized in front of them. The native jumped, to put it gently, but it only made Jasper's smile wider. If anything his mood changed direction quickly than the wind. Jade saw no trace of the worry he was expressing seconds ago. It had not been the same before, when he was counted amongst the living. He was still Jasper, in so many ways, but death had changed him, almost as if a part of him had been removed to be replaced by something else.

"If you take care of his body be sure that I can take care of the spirit. His will not be the first I have helped cross over to the other side," he continued. "Might be that I would need Sephara's strength if his spirit is strong."

"And for the other thing... well, that would be the first."


OOC: sorry, I've just felt quite uninspired lately....

OOC: Don't worry, I think you are not alone. It's a sticking point. We ned to get into the jungle and into the next environ.

IC: "Well. We don't have much time to figure it out, then..." Arlen grumbled. He understood, but was nonetheless disappointed. "Perhaps later."

Arlen motioned to Jasper and spoke to Weka'u in his own tongue. "This... man before us. He might give you the wisdom of T'a'u'weke through me. I have been given knowledge that I should not have. If T'a'u'weke is real, and I believe he is, then he gave this too me because Pu'aki is preventing him from giving it to you. He would not have given an outsider this gift if he knew it would never be given to his people. He told me 'The Tongue of Fire' would be with me as long as I was here, on this island."

"I see." Weka'u nodded and his face was firmly fixed with understanding. "Yes, he would not give you such insights for no reason. He is a God of passion and impulse, quick to change his mood - but clumsy, he is not."

Arlen nodded and looked to Jasper. He'd seen some interesting things in his life, but few so many as in the past week. Airships were delightfully inspiring machines. Tossing one to such emotionally parallel highs and lows in such a short time. Even when on the ground. "Well then, we'll give this a try later... and perhaps I'll be able to get some decent sleep, ha!" Suddenly, he was feeling much better about things, inded.

"So, probably time to go. I'll see you up above. I think you'll need to go with Sephara, Jasper. Just in case." Arlen grinned and started walking back top the top deck. The temple still was not resolved. The priesthood would likely try to fill the vacuum of political strength, if any were involved. Most likely, they were. Preists always held powers the common folk knew little of. Be it harmless parlour trick or more potent devices.

Popping his head back into the falling sun, he looked about for Gabriel to push him to immediate departure. There was time enough for working out finer details of the plan on the way.

By now Rama was used to the bitterness of the cold. The frozen wind sticking to his armor and making it look foggy and frosted. Fighting in the cold was so very much different for frontline troops than in any other climate. Even rain and heavy wind played less of an impact than the cold. Coldnees numbed one's senses, caused slower reactions and clouded the mind. The body spends more valuable energy keeping itself warm than it does focusing on the battle.

As the village of Tsav came in to view over the hard dirt path, Rama was reminded of so many battles in a peaks above it, and the consequences they held for these small trading stops along the highway. Tsav was all but deserted. Most of the buildings were partially destroyed from Dominion cannonfire and those left standing were only just keeping the bitter mountain winds at bay. Even now, just over a year since the fighting stopped, the economic depression hanging over the outlying villages showed no sign of lifting.

The remaining citizens of Tsav greeted Rama with glares and hushed whisperes as he rode past. Most of them blamed the Imperial Legions for not saving thier homes, reguardless of whether or not they knew the truth. People needed someone they could blame, and see proof of thier fault. The legions failed to stop the aerial bombardments at this humble village years ago that claimed the lives of several citizens and twice as many garrisoned legionaries. That was before General Samisis, and the strategy that eventually drove Dominia to abandon its Kellan desires, whatever they may have been.

---

"This place is a wreck, even now. The people here aren't even trying to rebuild. It's disgraceful."

"Calm down Mirelle," Rama gave the raven-haired scout a hard stare, "Angering the locals won't make our search any easier. I don't pity these people for thier lack of patriotism, or blame them, but it would be far more beneficial to keep them at least marginally friendly. Especially if conscriptions are handed out again."

"Let the Doms return. I'd like to see thier fancy magitek break and shatter against us. It may have taken a while, but we drove them out of our lands. I dare them to try again." Mirelle was a tragedy of the war. She lost two children, a husband, her home and all of her assets to the war. All she had left was her revenge and utter disreguard for the life of any Dominion, combatant or not. "So where are the others?"

"They should be here by nightfall. In the morning we'll talk a while and split up to search. I think it would be best to camp outside the town tonight. The others will know how to find us," Rama reached out and tied a blue ribbon to a charred post, "We have much to do."

As Rama and Mirelle turned thier horses to leave Tsav, Mirelle took a brief look back at the desolate village. Rama detected a hint of pain in her expression, but it was quickly banished and replaced by the normal stone-faced unemotion she normally showed. After about an hour, they had built thier camp behind a wind-sheltered rock. A warm fire blazed happily over some large dry logs. Rama sat opposite Mirelle with a long pipe tucked between his lips.

"X'Irah is your sister, isn't she?" Mirelle suddenly asked. Rama nodded gravely, and she moved around the fire to sit next to him. She linked her arm around his and laid her head on his shoulder. It wasn't the first time the two had been close like this in front of a fire. They both knew where thier feelings were, but neither of them wer ready to move any further on them. There was far too much left - too much bloodshed left - to put thier personal needs above Kell. There would come a time when Rama would know his place in the world without war, and Mirelle could move past the ruins in which her life was left, but for tonight, the two veterans were content with keeping themselves far enough apart to not be hurt.

"I will find her."

Satisfied? Satisfied?!? A familiar white hot rage began to consume him, one that he had not felt in fourteen years. Who was this woman in front of him that spoke like some kind of patriot, yet who had abandoned her people to go scouring the world for treasure of all things. And yet she had the audacity to take offense at a conflict she had turned her back on.

Gabe turned so she couldn't see the cold, disgusted look he wore. At the height of his fury he felt like laughing, surrendering to the absurdity that somehow, even in the middle of the sea, society, politics, and all the staggering obscenities that came with it, had once again found a way to catch up to him. His sanctuary had been infected.

And yet, he held his tongue long enough for the anger to subside and his calmer, more empathetic self reemerged from the darker waters of his mind.

"You're wrong," he said flatly, "I do not understand because what you're saying isn't making any sense." He was trying his best, but despite that he could tell his eyes were still aflame when he turned back towards her, "You say it's not her fault where she was born, but you'll condemn all the same because of it."

"We are not in Kell. We are not in Dominia. We are on an island in the middle of the Haloed Sea, you are both members of my crew aboard this ship, and the only battle to be fought, as far as I can tell, IS OUT THERE!!!" He shouted so loud he shocked himself, but instantly felt better and being able to release it. The last thing he wanted, however, was a shouting war, and to attack her beliefs would only dug a deeper hole, so he held up his hand to stop her from a rebuttal and just kept talking. He didn't say sorry though, because he wasn't.

"Listen Cyr, you're not the only one who has felt the sting of war," he felt his eye twitch slightly as he repressed the memories of a former life, "But for whatever reason at this moment in time, you and she are in the same god damned place, and it has nothing to do with any god damned wars your people may have fought."

"Maybe you didn't realize it, but when you enlisted under my command, you joined my family, and when you're a part of this family, you have a responsibility to everyone else in it. Why? Because they are counting that you'll be there for them when they need you most. That's what family does damnit. They set aside petty squabbles and look out for one another. I don't know what your intentions were exactly when you signed on, but you made a promise to me and to everybody else up there," he pointed towards the deck, "That you would be there when it counted. And now, you want to turn your back on them, on me, precisely when we need you most."

Even as he uttered the words the full weight of them hit home inside him. That was what bothered him the most, he realized, that she was too scared and blind to see the truth of the matter. A flood of emotions took over him, and he stood frozen, as if suspended in time, breathing heavily while fighting an invisible barrage.

He hung his head and made his way to the door, unable to be in front of her while she was like this anymore. Before walking away he risked saying one more thing. There was plenty he could still think of to say, but only one thing that really matted. As he spoke his voice shook with pain, "Your free to do as you will, but god damned I hope you're the woman I think you are, because I'm betting a lot of lives on that assumption."

Gabriel walked away from her, perhaps for the last time.

Cyradis was wide-eyed with astonishment at Gabe's reaction. She had never seen the man direct a negetive look in another person's direction, let alone erupt into an all out yell. She wasn't sure what exactly about what she said upset him the most, but apparantly, it was enough to hit all the wrong buttons. Cyradis could only stare and hold her tounge as he unleashed his fury.

Alot of what he said struck Cyradis as unfair. That she was abandoning her family was chord strummed deep in her heart, and part of tune Gabe knew all too little about. Everyone aboard knew she was an orphan, or at least, those that had been there when she joined. He knew so little about her past; not the least due to her unwillingness to share it. It should have been a clue to him and everyone else. A hint that just maybe the Kellan-Dominion War was more than just one army going after another on a level battelfield.

The more Cyradis tuned in to Gabe's insensitivity, the more angry she became; his own rage giving fuel to hers. As he turned his back to her, her tore her eyes away from him and clutched her bedsheets in her hands, squeezing the cotton covers as hard as she could. She could feel herself reactively drawing in the potent magic of the island. Gabe said his final bit and exited her room not a moment too late, for when Cyradis looked back at the closed door, her violet eyes were ablaze with the energy she'd gathered.

She lifted a shaking hand from the bed, and covered her eyes, trying with sheer willpower to calm herself down. She realized she'd been holding her breath, and let out a harsh sigh, rising quickly to her feet. Taking a deep breath, she dropped to her knees and reached under the bed, sliding out shallow wooden chest. There were no latches on the box, but instead there were three solid metal strips welded end to end holding it shut. With a stiff wave of her hand, Cyradis split the metal lashings and lifted the lid open. Inside rested the blue and white, lightly armored robe of a Kellan Arch Mage. The last time she'd worn it was during the war's final campaign.

Cyrdis stood, lifting the battle robe up with her. She cast a steely glare the door and replaced her current robe with the armored one. It took a few minutes to fasten the leather thongs that held the small shiney plates in place. Finally, she bent over the chest and lifted out a detailed silver circlet with a ruby inbedded into the centerpiece. Placing the circlet on her head, she turned and looked at a long supressed image of her past in the mirror over her dresser. To complete the uniform, Cyradis once agian withdrew her Seal of Karatam and placed it around her neck. This time, it was glowing faintly. Gabe wanted to start a war. Cyradis would show him war.

Feeling herself calm enough to face Gabe and Arch, Cyradis left her cabin and walked back out on to deck. She drew more than a few stares and raised at least as many eyebrows at her garb. Before now, none of them knew she was a military trained mage, but the unmistakable style of her battle robe spoke volumes.

"Well," she said, her eyes glowing softly as she focused the magic she'd drawn in earlier, "I hope you have a plan." Her gaze was fixed on Gabe. After that speech in her cabin, he ought to be prepared for getting her in this robe.

On the main deck of the Dawn, the crew had assembled and looked ready to leave. Having just come from his talk with Cyradis, he could still feel his heart racing. The adrenaline coursing though him re-energized his tired body and mind.

Striding across the deck he found Archamae slightly removed from the others, and he altered his course toward her. She looked downtrodden and to an extent he thought broken. Revealing her past to the mage could not have been an easy thing, made far worse by the Kellan's reaction, and Gabe saw his conjectures about the talented airship pilot were true. What haunted her was what she'd done during war, for the Dominia Empire, and she'd escaped by turning herself into a drunk.

Gabe had had his own struggles after his battle had ended. There was something inherently human about forcing blame upon oneself, feeling guilt, and letting those feelings devalue your sense of self. Perhaps he'd been lucky. Gabe had never understood why some people turn out the way they did, but he had always been a firm believer in the power to choose. He'd chosen to realize that what had transpired those many years ago were not his fault, and surviving was not something to be guilty for. He'd also chosen to leave his past in the past. Choices Arch had never been able to make.

How can you help a person either unable or unwilling to choose life?

He reigned in beside the Arcadian, "I'm curious as to why you picked now?" his tone was gentle and reassuring.

"Next time you feel like confessing something, I'd appreciate it if you could wait until we're not stranded on and island with angry smugglers, volcano gods, and corrupted native chieftains," he beamed her a smile, but the woman wasn't in the mood. It didn't matter though, Gabe simply needed her to know everything would be okay.

A part of Gabe thought on what the arch mage had said. Archamae was a Dominian. One of them. The same people who'd killed his friends and unleashed horror upon his home. No matter how much time passed there was still fierce anger bottled up inside him, but he knew very well that the past was the past. Arch was here now, one of us, not one of them. That was what was important.

"I'm not sure what your plan is, I doubt you've even thought that much about it, but you're going to reach a tipping point, and soon by the looks of things," his eyes focused on some point faraway into the jungle. "Walking around in this half-dead state of yours is no way to live."

He rose to his feet, "We all do things we wish could be undone, but the sooner you accept they can't be the better off you'll be. You have to want to get better Arch, want to live. Life is a gift that your friends may no longer have, and that you may have taken from many people... don't abuse what you still have by living a half life. Tomorrow is not yesterday. If you can see that..." he simply smiled at her as he caught sight of Cyradis walking up the stairs in her full mage regalia.

She looked pissed, but it didn't matter, he'd gotten her to forget what had just happened and focus on him instead. "...Everything will be okay," he finished.

"Well," she said, her eyes glowing softly as she focused the magic she'd drawn in earlier, "I hope you have a plan." Her gaze was fixed on Gabe. After that speech in her cabin.

"It starts by not dying," he took Arch's hand and lifted her to her feet, then walked past Cyradis towards the rest of the waiting crew. "Come on, we're leaving now. We'll figure it out on the way."

...

No sooner had the good Captain come up than he rushed to Archamae's side. Apparently she needed consoling. Ah... the Kellen Cyradis... Arlen thought, the gears finally clicking into place. He'd thought so much about the future and the past that the present seemed to have temporarily escaped him, fatigued as he was. A military person such as her; she could - and should - manage on her own in situations such as this...

Rather quickly after their exchange of words, and while waiting his turn to speak to the over-worked over-burdened Captain, Cyradis emerged from below decks. Blossomed was probably the word. The magical qualities of this island awake in her slightly glowing eyes. It does do some interesting things, this place... Awakens the senses that have been dulled through misuse. Again I think: Strange that all of us should be crowded together from such backgrounds... There she was in all her battlemage glory, Archmage status after all.

It didn't take someone as gifted with the awareness of modicum and analysis of said facts as Arlen to realize from Gabriel speaking to Archamae, who is clearly from the northerly regions, Dominion, and Cyradis from Kell, that an issue was raised. The situation was simple and distinct... Archamae disclosed she had been to Kell on assignment; telling from her talents, as a demon from the skies. Cyradis, now unearthing noted fact she was an archmage... that probably did not settle well with Gabriel. Thus the storming off of Gabriel and assuring Archamae of her safety aboard his ship, no doubt. The man that Gabriel was, he was obviously concerned for the camaraderie of the ship falling to certain doom. As would I...

With the dual blows of the Dominion under his own belt, Arlen could understand any act of ill will Cyradis had in mind. It would have to wait. More important things than a war that was, for now, over were happening that involved their lives in the here and now.

"Behold!" Arlen said, loud enough for all to hear, "The Archmage of Kell in all her glory! Why she had not graced us with it in the first place? A mystery... Though, a blessing! Now we have little to fear but our own trepidations! Shall we move on then, and see why Dominia fears them so?" His eyes quickly darted to the Dominion pilot, then back to Cyradis' eyes, as if telling secretly: Whatever you have in mind can wait for less pressing moments! Truth be told he pitied the girl. She had run so far from home, only to be confronted by the very thing that she was running from, reminders of the past. The many lives lost by her hands, and the many lives she couldn't save. Even with all that power at her fingertips. In many ways, he was reminded of his own sojourn.

"T'a'u'weke doesn't know how lucky he is! With magicite, we'll be feeling rather lucky too. Don't put yourself in too much of harms way, Archamae, we'll need you to fly the Requiem out of here and to put the past behind us once and for all..." It was a small token of his understanding that he hoped the quick-witted pilot would understand, and doubtless resent without appreciation. Arlen was only too happy to oblige a begrudged Dominion pilot who wanted no sympathy. With a hurried pace, he walked between the two individuals, a glance in both directions, and then moved onward to the gangplank.

At the head of the gangplank, he looked down at the jungle below. Turning his head to Gabriel, he wore a smile that none had seen for days. "Shall we go and rescue ourselves then, Captain?"

He spotted the young Drice and his sister off near the back and quietly schemed to himself. I have a use for you, young knife-master. I doubt you'll fear the reprise of the bad luck killing priests would bring, either. I also doubt the native warriors would want to, though quite capable. I wonder how your sister will manage joining us without you at her hip? Hmm...

"It been a long time my son." the older man whispered. There was no gentleness in his voice but a false sincerity swept from his look. There was a time when Drice had been fearful of the man, Gavin the clan chief of the Jelom one of the tribes of Juvarians. "I have heard of your exploits and you have done your people a great service Maktah."

Drice nodded keeping his tongue silent. He wanted to ask after Cailey to see her again. However he was Maktah there were no attachments. His life was for the clan chiefs, his duty was to the clan. If Gavin ordered it he would slit his throat and spill his blood upon the wooden floor now. Or would he? Berak had aluded that he was different. Was the clan truly his first concern? Or was it rather a little girl who looked at him with shinning eyes and love...

The older man turned his focus back to his master. They embraced with a heavy handed hand shake and Gavin handed Berak a stack of papers. Drice frowned still unsure of why Berak had asked him to accompany him on this meeting. After a few minutes Gavin raised an eyebrow. "Be honest old friend I trust your councel far more then most. Do you see it as well?"

Berak looked angry as his eyes scanned the pages. "Its true? Bah of course it is or else you wouldn't have shown me. Tis going to hell Nepheli save us..."

Gavin nodded in understanding. He glanced towards Drice almost as if answering the unasked question. "Two days ago the ambassador of the Empire in all his wisdom delievered these treaties. They are nothing short of annexation into the empire. Yesterday the empire cleared out land near the border for an air field as well as to demonstrate the Empirial Navy's power."

He glanced at the two. "War is suicidal." Berak whispered.

"So is doing nothing. Make no mistake we are at a cross roads. Two forces will meet, only one will go forward. Juvarians do not get pushed around. We fight when we choose too. We will not be used by anyone. I have a plan one that straddles the line of death and life. That is why the Jelom will be on the front line. The other clans will follow us."

"Tonight we declare war on the Empire. The first step is the reason I invited you Maktah." his eyes bore in Drice. "The first step is fear. I want them to fear the unknown to fear the darkness. To understand they live only as long as we allow them. I want their soldiers to know that we can kill them and their families in a blink of an eye." he tossed a paper to Drice.

"This is your assignment Maktah. Others of your kind will be dance tonight. Berak has promised me that as I had always thought you are one of a kind."

Drice opened the paper scanning the details of his assignment and gulped...

"Do you know what the empire will do? They will kill you and me and anyone who holds a threat to them. They will use your sister, use her to breed more wizards for their army. They are like locusts feeding and killing the land before moving. When they have broken her they will cast her aside."

His face was turning red with anger. "As you please Clan chief, tonight Death will dance with Empire."

Gavin smiled "Tonight we declare war on the Empire and in their anger and over confidence they will come rushing into our trap. And they will learn the true strength of the Juvarians."
______

His fingers carressed the hilt of the twin blades. He blinked he hadn't realized he had even touched them. His mind was distracted, he had been thinking to much of the past. Then again you couldn't run forever. He pushed the foliage back clearing a path for Cailey. She moved lightly on her feet her mind off in concentration. She had that look of preparing herself for a fight. Still no one had given him a hint of what to expect or what to do when they entered the village.

He understood from the little he heard that the shaman was the first threat but that there would be a temple that needed to be cleansed as well. Priests? Fanatics? He shook his head. It didn't matter any that threatened him or his sister would taste their own blood before they died.

With their 'local' guiding them the group was making good time. He glanced down to his sister.

"I have a few surprises for them." she whispered behind a playful smile. "Just like before right?"

Drice nodded. "When I give the signal you release one, when I move towards the temple drop two inside."

OOC: It's raining...I'm bored...and it's only 2 pm est...

Every treasure hunter needs a squishy rogue to trip those pesky traps right? Look no further than the queen of rogues! >_> Hope you don't mind my weird race but I can't help it. I'll try to give Jade someone to do her doctoring on.

All the italicized stuff is for Geco's consideration.

Name: Kitsunae (Kitsu)
Gender: Female
Age: 23 and a half years ...so she thinks...
Race: Half Yokai (meaning: half ninetailed fox demon thing)
Profession:
Off ship - Rogue aka Thief aka Trap fodder aka Sickbay regular
On ship - Deck swabber/Dishwasher/Maid/Sanitation Engineer

Description: Silver hair to mid back with two braids on each side that meet at the back of her head and tied with a slim black ribbon. Wild green eyes with golden flecks rimmed with black (not eyeliner mind). Pale skinned like moonlight on water. Black bodice with short overcoat, breeches, and knee high boots with silver buckles on the outer edges. A black leather belt with a simple silver buckle holds several small pouches holding various trinkets for trap finding and tripping, lock picks, and sheaths for two long knives. (Long knife hilts are white ivory-like with silver pommel and an emerald set just below each blade.)

Two black fox-like ears protrude from her head just above the braids and have a tendancy to twitch at varying sounds. Three black fox tails with white tips extend from just above her leather breeches.

Personality: A bit obsessive when it comes to getting to a piece of treasure she becomes easily distracted by shiney things. She can be a bit loony especially at times of a full moon as the shine of one has the possibility of entrancing her for long periods of time. She isn't very graceful and has a small fear of drowning, going splat after a fall, and won't eat anything that jiggles or wiggles.

Special Abilities:* If only she can turn into a three tailed fox during eclipses of the moon and/or sun >_> Good sense of smell and above average hearing (for a human).

History:* She doesn't know how she came to be, just that she is, and she makes the best of it. She's been on her own for so long she doesn't remember much before she was about 6 years of age. What she does remember is being integrated into a rogue guild and taught the fine art of picking locks and pockets and begging for money, food, and anything else she could get her little grubby hands on. Eventually she learned a little reading but doesn't do much of that. Her only concern is getting to the shinies.

Race/Tribe:* Yokai is a demon beast, in Kitsu's case, a ninetailed fox demon (prolly her dad with a human mom). Some fox demon traits exist like intense hearing and smell while more human features are dominant.

You have obtained the Geco:

Stamp of Approval

No need to thank me, just post ^_^

CHARACTER SHEET
Name: Amateira Tsumè
Gender: female
Age: 25
Race: Human
Profession: Hunter and Tracker, does whatever she is needed for on deck.
Description: Amateira is a priestess of Tau'weke, she wears little to nothing among her own people she wears a leather necklace with an amulet of Fire stone on it, as do all devoted servants of Tau'weke (they would never give it up). Though none have received a Stone recently as Pu'kai is hoarding them. When among the foreigners she wears a loose, light blue blouse, made of a silk-like substance that is a strong as denim. Her bottom half is covered by a short, cream coloured linen skirt, which would be entirely in decent for a crew full of men such as the Requiem.
Personality: Amateira being such a devoted priestess of Tau'weke is strongly religous and reluctant to leave Tau'weke's protection. She can be quite ignorant and distant at times, mostly because of her difficulty with the language. Until recently she only new the Tounge of Fire. Despite being a priestess she is curious of the outside world.
Special Abilities:* She is an excellent archer though she rarely uses a bow at all. Her goal is to learn of the world and spread Tau'weke to new places, and possibly find the Exiles, so you could call preaching an ability. She is also a fairly good woodswoman, though far from the best of her people.
History:* Amateira is first and foremost a servant of Tau'weke, she has lately been distanced from him and so seeks to restore the balance. Her past if fairly atypical of all of Tau'weke's people, one of religon, fear and cynicalism. She strongly dislikes the illegal traders on Tau'weke's island and cannot do anything alone. Or go against Pu'kai's word, so she attempts to keep Tau'weke balanced as much as possible.

Amateira's whole adult life has been secretly devoted to this purpose, and so she knows little else. Sometimes she wishes she had taken the path of a hunter or even a mother, but she remains on her path knowing it is Tau'weke's will. She is fighting a losing battle and need someone to turn the tides and ultimately save Tau'weke's existance.

Unfortunately for her and the crew, she was on the vulcano collecting Fire stones for Pu'kai when the foreigners arrived. Now she is returning as fleetly as she can still unaware of the happenings.
Race/Tribe:* Tau'weke. (I don't think I should explain this since Tau'weke is pre-existing)

((I might wait for acceptance, Geco come back))

OOC: Continue discussion in RPers Msg Board if you have rebuttle.

Fire stone necklace - That's fine, but only priests and preistesses and Pu'aki. Pu'aki would have an Elder's Stone sort of thing, much bigger and heavily designed.

Dress - I would say that she would wear whatever any other native would wear, plus some sort of thing to set her apart. Obviously, she will need to be clothed 'properly' later, and instructed as to why before they land at the next port.

----------

The rest - I will PM you a couple of details, but it's good. :) I can't wait.

From the moment he had read the note he had considered whether or not he really had it in him. He had killed before, killed many since he had passed his initiation. Yet this one gave him pause. Over and over again Berak had said he was different. That he was the true shadow of death and yet...yet he had come to the conclusion that he was not a true Maktah. His loyalty was nothing to Gavin or the clan. To hell with them both he didn't really care what happened to them. Yet he did care about Cailey.

That was the problem. Maktah were not supposed to have any attachments Berak had hinted that his father had been like him. That he too must have made attachments otherwise he himself would never have been born. But then again Berak had hinted that it was the attachments that had killed his father. The distractions. He could understand that.

Standing over the two sleeping forms beneath him a bead of sweat trickled beneath the raised Kamir hiding his face. It had been relatively simple to sneak into the embassy unseen, harder though to stop himself from killing nosy guards that had gotten in his way. But then those were his orders. His fingers rested uncomfortably upon the hilt of the twin blades, his breath slow and calm even calmer then the sleeping souls beneath him. They were weren't soldiers they weren't anything...yet...

The child stirred against her mothers side pressing closer for warmth. He let out a breath, the girl was no older then Cailey. Yet they could and would do the same to her. Something snapped at the thought the internal battle concluding. To hell with himself, if a demon was needed to protect Cailey then he would cross the line in the darkness and taint his soul with blood.

With a sneer he unsheathed the blades and struck....
_______

....the water splashed to no avail. He hissed a curse to Nepheli. No matter how hard he scrubbed the blood refused to come off. It was as if the dead refused to let go. Damn it....his thoughts returned to the blood filled room and his actions. He cough and lunged for a bush.

Nothing came as he dry heaved. He had already spilled his stomachs contents throughout the forest. He tried to meditate to find balance and yet every time he closed his eyes he saw that dead girls horror struck face as she had awakened before the blade had cracked open her skull.

"I had a feeling I would find you here." Berak whispered from nearby. Drice whipped his mouth with his bare arm his steined shirt and cloak he had left somewhere. "You are so much like him. I had a feeling but now I truly understand."

"I am weak." Drice whispered.

Berak shook his head and reached into his pocket producing a small flask which he held out to him. "Drink it will help you will find."

Drice wavered and took the flask. Unscrewing the top he held it to his lips and took a gulp feeling the cool liquid burning his throat. Yet he felt his nerves calming as he drank more. "Life is not fair, it is not good or evil. It is simply what you make of it boy. Sometimes you have to choose the best of two wrongs or sometimes worse. You could have let those two live. That was a choice. But they would have died eventually. Your failure would have killed you. And by your death who would protect your sister."

Drice cringed at that thought. "The moment we are born we begin to die. Remember that boy because that is our true power. The reality of death, to understand it and to face it not to run. Your father had an attachment to your mother. In so doing he made enemies powerful enemies. Those enemies sent him to his death. Your father was sent on a suicide mission that he accepted gracefully to protect you both. Did you know that your blades were the first to ever touch the emperor?"

Drice froze. That was how his father had died. He had been sent to assisinate the emperor? They had touched him which meant that his father had nearly succeeded....he licked his lips realizing what Berak had not said. Understanding all to well and now everything made sense. Gavin had been that enemy, Gavin had killed his father. Now he was being angled into an impossible position because of Cailey.

"You are not weak boy, if anything you are powerful. Despite your feelings despite it all you over came them and carried out your duty. You are truly Deishein, I feel sorry for any who truly threaten you or those you care about but you must be careful. We are going to war boy, and anything can happen now."
_____

"I said we are here." Cailey repeated snapping Drice out of his thoughts. She looked warrily upon him but he dismissed it with a wave of his hands.

"Are you sure?" he whispered wondering why the past had suddenly come to him. Then again he had been running from it for so long sometimes you just had to face it. Cailey grinned and rolled her eyes as if suggesting that she was wrong was one of the dumbest things he had ever said. She was right though he was distracted if she could sense people nearby then were here.

"I think its time for one of my surprises." she countered. He wanted to ask her what she was talking about but stopped. Her eyes glazed over as she worked her spell. A soft trickle of green light rose from the ground beneath her feet swirling around her body as it rose. The light flashed around her and then split off. Drice was the first to receive Nepheli's blessing. The green light struck him and the hair upon his neck rose as a cold shivered through his spine, replaced by a sudden summer warmth. He felt the fatigue leave his body, leaving him feeling rejuvinated. He waited to see the reaction as the spell struck the others.

ooc: The spell is like a six pack of red bull you will feel wide awake and full of energy for a little whilie :-)

ic: Upon completing the spell he watched his sister carefully. She wavered slightly the recoil effect of the energy it had cost her but she smiled. "Chenkari." she chanted. The orbs of light burst from her fingertips focusing to the size of fireflys and swirled around her.

"I think we are ready." Drice announced raising the Kamir. Peace or no he had a feeling he was going to be earning his spot amongst the crew today. "Lead the way and everyone keep your guard up." he said to the local as he pushed through the foliage to look upon the village.

"Remember what I said Cailey."

"This might be fun." she said behind a mischevious smile.

Amateira picked up the final Fire stone, there were nearly a dozen in her bag made of grasses weaved by her own hand. She glanced around at the mountain top and down into the crusted over crater that was the actual volcano. There would be a dozen more stones in the next few months if Tau'weke blessed them. Amateira examined the glossy stones in her bag, these too would go to Pukai as with all the other stone collected recently.

If she didn't return soon Pukai would send hunters after her, she wouldn't be treated too well either. Did the people not notice the changes? It seemed so sadly, but there was little a single priestess could do. Even her connection with Tau'weke was weakened. One hand went to the Fire stone hanging from a leather cord around her neck just to feel that her god was still there. A surge of energy went through her re-vitalising her tired limbs.

Return... the words seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once.
Amateira looked up at the tropical blue sky for a few seconds raising her hand against the bright morning sun. She noticed a ship crashed on the southern beach. What is going on? she thought as she began her slow decent down the steep mountain back to the village. Surefootedly she recklessly ran down the hill as something urged her legs onward.

Nearly to the bottom she stumbled and rolled the rest of the way down the hill, her body obtaining a few new bruises on the way down. She managed to hold on to the Fire stones though, and quickly stood brushing herself off. She resumed her walk to the village this time at a safer pace. It was a short walk from the base of the mountain to the village. on the way she encountered a village woman who looked a little edgy, a bag similar to Amateira's own was on her shoulder as she gathered herbs. "What is wrong Rendi?" Amateira asked the older woman in their native tounge.

"Strangers on the island, looking for help to leave again," Rendi spoke as if fearing for her life. Something seemed to be effecting all the villagers, making them paranoid.
"I shall find out for myself, Tau'weke's blessing be upon you faithful one," she said responding with the usual blessing that had always been second nature.

Continuing her journey with a little anger in her heart. Why hadn't Pukai sent for her? Or anyone else for that matter? She would have words with Pukai, for as a priestess she was entitled to speak before him, unlike most others men and women alike. Finally she reached the outskirts of the village, all felt uneasy and tense. Hurriedly she headed to the temple where the rotund Pukai would be sitting on his throne as usual.

Fire in her soul and anger in her mind she strode into the temple leaving the guards no time to announce her as was proticol. "Pukai, I call myself before you by right of Tau'weke and the heat of his fires I wish to speak with you," she announced from the entrance of the temple. Pukai looked up from whatever he had been doing. "Ah, I see you have Collected the Stones," he said ignoring her last comment. "I and Tau'weke thank you."
Amateira noticed he said I before Tau'weke as if he were more powerful.
"Why did you not summon me and the other priests and priestesses?" she asked him barely veiling her anger.

"Why should I? I am the Leader after all," he retaliated.
"Because you are not our god, Tau'weke is. He selected all of the Council to help you," she answered anger coming unveiled well and truly.
"Well Priestess of Tau'weke, they come now, with blades drawn and unholy intent," Pukai told her. "Will you defend me?"
"For Tau'weke, I will defend you. Not for you," Amateira responded still angry. She walked to a wall where a line of bows and bristling quivers sat in a rack.
"Priestess, the Stones?" said the powerful man. Amateira touched the bag protectively then tossed it to Pukai who stood and disappeared behind a doorway veiled by braided hair. Amateira continued string the bow and nocked an arrow. Pukai hadn't said how far away the enemy was. Why didn't he prepare the villagers for a fight?

The walk passed mostly in silence for Arlen, only breaking it to answer a direct question, or ask something errantly of Weka'u. No, for the most part his mind had reflected on the possibility that his memories would forever be stuck in his head, even if the knowledge had passed to weka'u somehow. Why can't I see anything important about their religion? he continued to ask himself. It was such an important piece to have missing from his puzzle. For these missing pieces Arlen found that Weka'u was a wealth of insight. Perhaps T'a'u'weke meant for him to work with Weka'u - that only with cooperation could they gain power over Pu'aki. Certainly, T'a'u'weke knew that Arlen had no wish of ruling any people. Even one with such lovely young women so scantily clad as these. With their honey-colored skin, Arlen had already started to crave the fruit their youth. With such a brief glimpse as he had had when they were first in the village.

His lewd thoughts were interrupted by Weka'u stopping. He pointed to the temple, as a view of it could barely be seen before entering town. A green light passed through the group, including Arlen. Fascinating and wonderful it was, when it sailed through his body. Something he had never had the pleasure of before. Better than any opium or canab. Better than any snuff or beetlenut. As the warming sensation replaced the shocking cold, his weariness seemed to be replaced with it as well. How sublimely charming...! His mouth opened ever so slightly in sweet release of his agonizing tiredness.

His eyes went to the young Drice and his sister. She looked slightly fazed, the source of the refreshment. Drice seemed used to such a thing, and wore the slightest smirk of amusement at the surprised looks amongst them all just as he raised his face mask. "Everyone keep your guard up," the young warrior said.

"I think you, my hashasim, will go to the temple," Arlen said, pointing to the way. "Your sister should come with us, I beleive. I doubt you'll want her to be in the danger you are likely to face up there... but that is up to her. We should split now, while we have the chance. Either way, Gabriel, Weka'u, myself, Kaltor, and Cyradis will go to Pu'aki. Sephara'na and Archamae, having the most tact in stealth among the remaining should move to the temple. I trust we should have the upper hand if Weka'u has the trust of the guard or not."

Arlen looked to Gabriel with a nod, "Captain, that is my advice, but the choice is yours, sir. Command as you wish." Something in Arlen had changed since his encounter. His life was not so happy anymore. He had seen much in the way of death from the eyes of the dying. As if he needed such reminders of undue carnage. How sadistic T'a'u'weke was in showing him such unnecessary things as that. Arlen supposed he knew the value of life previously. Now he had started to doubt such value, the way he saw men used as pawns by self-imposed gods, it seemed that it mattered not any longer. You were a pawn no matter what you did or didn't do who your served or didn't serve.

Arlen assumed this shift in Arlen's eyes would be seen by Gabriel. A man of his insights likely knew the knowledge that could be gained of a person through a glimmer in their eyes. A doorway to the soul.

Jade was sitting on the grass outside her home watching him working below in the paddock. It felt strange calling it her home. More correctly their home, she smiled at the thought of it. It had been many years since she could call a place home. After their parents had passed, far too early, Jasper and she had been moving around finding work where they could. It was here, in the inland city of Vishay, that she had found home in the shape of a man, Edric Worthingstone. When she first had met Edric she had never thought a man of his status would show her any notice. Lord Daron Worthingstone was his father and as the first son he was one day to inherit his father's estate, but meanwhile he had built himself a name as a well reputated horse breeder. At the moment he was working with a black foal, a gift to the new Lady Worthingstone. She was beautiful, but it would take weeks until he would let Jade ride her. Jade sighed.

"Stop sulking, sis," Jasper said as he had managed to walk up from behind without her noticing. She tilted her head upwards and gave him a warm smile. He had decided to stick around after the wedding. His given reason was to keep her safe, but she knew the real reason. He longed for a home, somewhere to belong, just as much as her. Here at the Worthingstone Manor they had that.

"Can you pinch my arm?" she asked him. "It feels like it is all a dream. A wonderful dream!"

Jasper looked away and mumbled:

"Sometimes you wake up."

"Well this is a dream I never want to wake up from!" Jade lifted her hand up in the air and waved it at Edric ignoring the warning tone in Jasper's voice. Her husband threw her a kiss in return.

----------------
<Wake up!> Jasper told her and Jade almost jumped. <No time for daydreaming now.>

Jade left her memories and returned to the present just in time to see the young girl working up some sort of spell. She could almost feel the air around her move and a chill ran down her spine just as the green light hit her. Warmth began to spread through her body as the full reaction to the spell hit her. She suddenly felt more awake and alert than she had ever felt before. Amazed she looked at Jasper, who didn't seem to have responded at all to the spell. He was occupied with watching the other with an intense look on his face.

"I'll be coming with you," Jasper said to Arlen. "And Jade with me." He shimmered slightly behind Jade, placing a protective hand on her shoulder as he faded out into nothing.

...

When one considers a place of study and knowledge, one does not picture the interior of the Kellei University. On the outside, the white marble finish and intricate, detailed carvings belied the almost gloomy, sparsely lit hallways. Most new students entered the University feeling more like prisoners than respected Kellan magi. To the world outside, the University was Kell's greatest accomplishment, and the traditional Rite of Attunement was something to be celebrated. Most senior students and graduates knew better.

Cyradis stood in the center of a circular room with a curious, sapphire blue backlight to almost every stone. A mystical sort of mist flowed directionless across the room; propelled by some unfelt wind. The young mage stood with her eyes closed and her fingers held together tip-to-tip just in front of her bosom. Around the room, hooded and cloaked Arch Mages began a chant that slowly rose into a crescendo. As they chanted louder, the mist thickened and the stones grew brighter. Louder still, Cyradis' fingertips began to turn white with the pressure she was forcing between them. The glow began to coalesce into the center of the room, gradually crawling up Cyradis' feet and legs until her whole body was glowing a prime blue. The chanters abruptly halted thier chorus and Cyradis' body was wrenched as every muscle tensed; causing her to lift into the air and throw her arms back while her back arched. To her, the painful lock felt to have lasted hours as the Attunement energy melded with her body.

After some time, she drifted gently to the groud and collapsed onto her hands and knees. When she looked up, she saw the proud face of the Kellei Magister, the head of the University and arguably the most powerful man in the world. It was said he could snap his fingers and change the color of the sky or erase a mountain. Cyradis hoped that was an exaggeration, but his confident smile swelled her pride slightly as she stood to face him and the now unhooded memebers of the ritual as thier equal.
___________________________________________________________________________

It was an odd feeling Cyradis had pushing through the jungle in her old battle gear. She thought it would feel... different; like revisiting her past. But instead, she only felt more at home. More like she should be wearing them and no longer have to worry about hiding who she was. Being an Arch Mage was something of which she was very proud, unlike most of her peers who viewed the University as nothing more than a military training camp. She had her reasons for leaving, and if Gabe saw that as some sign of her lack of duty, then he could remain all the more ignorant of her motivations for being here.

Her eyes strayed to the confidently marching captain of the Requiem Dawn. She saw a side of him no other crewmembers had seen before, except mabey Sephara. A side that, perhaps, made her view him much more differently than them. All thier past exploits seemed shone upon by a much different light knowing even the happy-go-lucky Gabriel Solomon had some demons of his own.

The group ground to a halt, presumably a safe distance from the native's village to prepare. Cyradis felt and odd pull of energy behind her and saw the all too young Cailey weaving a brand of magic completely foreign to Cyradis or the University. Cyradis was instantly awed and intrigued by the girl's talents. She found it fascinating that magic could not only be present at that scale in a girl her age, but also so differently woven and applied. The source of the magic - latent ley energy - was the same, but the method was altogether new.

"Remarkable..." the Kellan mage commented, giving Cailey an intrested gaze and warm smile, "You and I should talk some time. I think we could learn alot from each other." She said to Caily, curiously following the small balls of energy casually swirling about her. Cyradis winked at the girl as she turned away. A fallen branch caught her eye and she plucked it from the undergrowth. She felt somewhat naked without a staff to carry into battle, and while this was devoid of any magical focus, and nothing compared to the one she left behind, its mere presence should help her to combat any magic they may be faced with. She planted the butt of her newly comissioned battle staff into the ground and awaited the Captain's plan.

He breathed slightly, the feint aroma of roses twisting through his senses. He licked his lips unable to keep from glancing periodicaly at the young woman crouched beside him. Arieko was a stunning mix of graceful beauty wrapped in a deadly package. Long flowing auburn hair streamed down her shoulders. She was only slightly older then himself, however she showed that girls matured much faster. He flushed at the thought and tried to think of something else.

He caught the brief snicker and flushed worse realizing that she had noticed his attention...Two weeks into the war sitting on the front lines he didn't have time for this he had to focus. He was glad for the fog but was sure that it did not hide his awkwardness. For was un natural in the this time of year and rightfully so this was no natural fog. This had been called forth by the mages to cover their attack. Gavin had been smart and kept the fog going for several days to alay suspision.

In two weeks the Maktah had been busy. Although there were less then a hundred within the clan they had already removed every Emperial citizen from the Jelom territory. According to Berak the other clans had followed their lead although not nearly as ruthlessly. Gavin had wanted to anger the empire Drice was sure that they had done so. If the present of hundreds of ears and tongues of family members hadn't been enough, the staking of the 'others' upon the boundry must have sufficed.

Which led him to this position. Just beyond the tree line, less then a hundred yards stood the latest Emperial incursion within their lands. Once it had been deep rooted forest now it was a stripped field turning into an airstrip for their assault fleet. Well they would have to find another one after today. There were only a few vessels grounded at the moment it seemed to be primarily made up of the engineers and a large garrison to protect them as they prepared for the arrival fleet. Well this staging fleet was about to disapear.

"Wont be long." Arieko whispered, her breath warm upon the back of his ear. He felt his heart skip unsure of what to say. He nodded and thought he heard a snicker. He felt his face flush further. He focused on the airships and wondered if Cailey was with the Mage contingent that had accompanied him on this attack. She was powerful although young there was a good chance she was there. There weren't many Juvarian Mages and few that could be considered powerful.

His fingers touched the hilt of the twin blades. "May Nepheli guide my hand this night, may she allow me to appease her anger with Domion blood."

"Amen." Arieko finished. He had realized she had nocked her arrow until she released. He didn't how she could see in this mess but he heard a wet thunk as it made contact. "He's down. Let's move."

He paused as a fire fly gently swept passed and landed upon his shoulder. He frowned realizing it wasn't alive just a small speck of light. He nodded in understanding. Cailey was here. It was time to move. He stalked forward his heart barely skipping as the first airship exploded outwardly sending splinters of wood raining upon the garrison. Another breath and the second exploded in the same ferosity.

He hadnt realized that he was running his right hand up the twin blades flashing in the fog carving the unprepared soldier before he could scream. He raised the Kamir. "Kill em all." he hissed at Arieko. By the terrified screams that echoed through the field he wasn't the only one thinking those orders.
______

Cailey beamed proudly her face flushed. Drice rolled his eyes. "...Of...course." she stammered to the mage. He was sure that his sister had been waiting for an excuse to talk to her. He understood though. He couldn't help her with magic. It was like a bird talking to a cat about flying just wasn't going to really understand. He moved foward and stopped as Cailey squeezed his hand.

"I don't trust him." she whipsered eyes on Arlen's back. "He acts like we are pieces to his game and I do not think he would hesitate to throw us away when it suits him." Drice nodded his own assesment of the man were earily similar. "I will stay with the others but I can sense a large mass of power in that temple."

He nodded. There was nothing left to say to that. He had crossed his blades with magic before and it had not ended well. "I will be careful."

"And I will be there with you." she winked and moved away though she kept a few feet distance from Arlem.

He knew Cyradis was powerful or at least Cailey was sure of it. He knew nothing of the other except she carried herself with a lethal grace that demanded respect. Gazing down at the temple he noticed the lack of guards placed outside. That didn't bother him the locals seemed rather skilled at concealment. He was sure that they were down there, as long as he fought with that perspective he wouldn't be surprised. "I will go first and get their attention. While I distract them you two make your move. Cailey said there are magic users. I will leave them to you but if you notice something call out the target and I will act accordinly."

It didn't occur to him until after he spoke and began to walk away that he had just dictated orders to crew that obviously out ranked him. Well he was Maktah and unless he missed a beat that didn't have this sort of experiience.

OOC: To clarify, the village is a standard islander type village. Huts everywhere and one big hut belonging to Pu'aki. The temple is actually on the side of the volcano and has access to the underground tunnels the magma flows through. So, no temple in the village. Most of the priests or shamans stay in huts near the temple on a terraced ledge.

IC: The walk from their stranded ship through the jungle to the tribal village gave Gabe plenty of time to play out every possible scenario of the coming confrontation that he could conjure. Everyone seemed to be in a ponderous mood, and any conversation was kept short and quiet, as if by their words alone they would somehow compromise their plans.

They stopped just on the outskirt of the village and huddled together. Most of the crew looked to him to divulge the plan at that point, but he had a smaller goal to accomplish first. Even as shifted from him to each other in slight concern, he stayed quiet. Over the pas several days they had taken on a bunch of new faces, and their ways were as much a mystery to him as the location of Shandalaar. One thing he'd learned early on as a First Mate was that sometimes you learned more about people when you stayed quiet and watched.

It was obvious that some of the newer hands were perhaps a little too eager to jump into action. Those who had served with him for some time were the ones who remained quiet, waiting to here his decision. Even Cyradis, who was must have been harboring some resentment after his outburst, still remained loyal and willing to follow his lead.

It wasn't surprising when Arlen and Drice stepped to the forefront to provide guidance. Arlen at least had the decency to ask for his approval afterwards, whereas Drice seemed ready to take charge of the situation and had already barked out his tactical orders. Between the two he'd take Arlen to keep around. Drice seemed like a loose cannon and possibly even a self-centered man, although it was hard to be sure of that last one. Gabe cast a glance in Cailey's direction. He surmised that the warrior's selfishness had been born out of good intentions, but it's hard to be a team player when you are only concerned about two people on the team.

"I will go first and get their attention. While I distract them you two make your move. Cailey said there are magic users. I will leave them to you but if you notice something call out the target and I will act accordinly." He started to walk away, but only got a few steps.

"No," the command was stern. "Thank you for your suggestion Drice, but I have no intentions of fighting the entire village." Weka'u nodded in agreement, reaffirming he would not support any attacks on his tribe.

"Listen closely people. No one harms the villagers. We're here to confront Pu'aki, draw his corruption into the open, and remove him as chief if he does not voluntarily step down," He looked at Weka'u again for resasurance, who nodded in agreement.

"We go into the village behind Arlen and Weka'u - no weapons or hostilities of any kind," he snapped a look at Drice to make sure he understood. "The goal is to bring the truth to light in front of the village. Weka'u will be a strong voice, but many still may not believe our accusations. We must draw Pu'aki into attacking us first. Everything relies on that."

"And what if you can't provoke him Gabe?" Kaltor challenged him, "What then? Weka'u here gets exiled or worse and we probably end up as sacrifices to T'a'u whatever and get thrown into that volcano," he pointed over his back with his thumb.

Gabe stared back with eyes of ice, "We attack his ego. Men like Pu'aki can't help but demonstrate their power."

"I don't know, I mean, I think Drice might have the right of it," the pirate continued, "They have sticks and stones. Their priests can probably be checked by the mages here. Why not just go in and take what we need. Less risk to us," he crossed his arms as he stood up straight.

Gabe quickly pulled his pistol from his side and leveled it at Kaltor, "If that's how you really feel I can repay that debt I owe you now," he cocked his eyebrow suggestively.

Greycloak just rolled his eyes, "You always were a touchy one," he raised his hands in surrender, "Fine, no hurting the village folk."

He lowered his weapon, "We aren't a bunch of murderers and thieves. Anyone who crosses me on this had better be comfortable here, cause you aren't coming with us," this time it was Sephara who crossed her arms behind Gabe. They all knew that going against him meant going against her as well.

He holstered his pistol and continued, "Cyradis, Cailey, I don't know what kind of firepower this guy might have, but we'll need you to be ready to block anything he throws our way. Can you access your power without drawing attention or looking suspicious?"

The two mages nodded at each other, "Can do."

"I'd venture if their God is a Volcano spirit, he'll be using some kind of fire magic. Once he attacks us, Weka'u, you declare that it is a sign from T'a'u'weke that he stopped us from being harmed because we speak the truth. The goal is to create confusion. The villages won't know what to think, and we capitalize on that. Once Weka'u declares Pu'aki unfit to be Chief and tells us to move, then we move, and not before. Try not to kill any of Pu'aki's followers. They probably don't have a clue as to what he's doing. After we've secured the village my hunch is he'll flee to the temple where Weka'u says he has the support of the priests. Ideally, I'd like to isolate Pu'aki before he can get there, but with the village right against the base and the side of the volcano wide open there's no place to set an ambush. So we chase him down. If he gets to the temple, target him as best you can. A man with that much to lose will fight to the bitter end, but once he's gone, any of his follower will be more inclined to see the light."

Gabe took a deep breathe and let the air fill his chest. "Very well. Let's get this over with and get the hell out of this place. Arlen, Weka'u... you lead the way."

Arlen's eyebrow raised at the comment about murderers and thieves. In actuality, from the looks of it, that is exactly what many of them indeed were. Despite that, Gabriel himself is not in either profession - presently. He'd get to the heart of it someday, but not today. Gabriel gave his plan away and Arlen felt satisfied with it all. All except one bit he would keep to himself for now. Let him run to his associates the priests, he won't make it far.

Arlen nodded and waved the Captain be beside Weka'u and slightly ahead of himself. He nodded to Weka'u and the trio stepped forward. Arlen and Gabe both unfastened their weapons and the later handed them to Sephara. A passing branch caught Arlen's eye as acceptable as they passed and hung his weapons - quiver, machete, and bow - on it. Weka'u, obviously, kept his own in his hands. He had nothing to fear.

"Don't forget to hand Captain Gabriel something to fight with, Weka'u," Arlen grinned, the other accepting the comment with a smirk. He would at that. As they led ahead of the group and broke the jungle, two guards of the village stood, and saw that it was Weka'u and their previous visitor Arlen, who is accepted among them as part of the tribe for now. Arlen would use that to his advantage.

Something else caught his mind and attention as they walked ahead, many more stares today in doubt and fear than ever previously on this crew. They were at a tipping point on this knife edge. The role of ambassador is a precarious one. For who is his master? His selfish nature? Perhaps the multi-planar being possessing his mind? Or is it the mortal Captain who holds the measure to allow or bar his departure from this accursed place? I must affix my place in the Captain's heart now yet again. I have no aspiration to rule his ragged crew or patched vessel. I wish only my life to continue unabated...

"All except one thing my Capitahn," he said, the last word accented with a strange tongue. "With how miss Cyradis... With how The Great Archmage of Kell: Cyradis, rather, has some unique geomancy on her side, perhaps she could embellish a bit, being near the volcano as we are, to strengthen our points. Unfortunately, she seems out of earshot. Hopefully you have some... secret communication methods with Sephara or our Archmage?"

Arlen held his finger up as well, "I still suggest that Drice's better qualities rely on stealth and he would be masked quite thoroughly up to the treeline and beyond to the temple."

His suggestions were far past their point of usefulness, being separated as they were from the rest of them. Yes, they could turn and signal or speak, but that would be foolhardy. What if someone happened to know a bit of common like Weka'u?

"Know that I would never contradict you, my dear Captain. I might be bold because my life is mine to keep or lose at the moment, but the responsibility of leadership is yours. No, thank you but no thanks... I am a thinker, not a leader. Just ask my people, if even one remains until now." Something caught his eye as he made his place in his crew clear to Gabriel, a woman with a bow. There wasn't much interesting about her except for the look on her face and the stone around her neck. "I am right. A young priestess at Pu'aki's threshold."

"Amateira, what are you doing?" Weka'u called out from afar. The woman was beneath him and would listen, if she knew what was good for her. There was no reason for her as a priestess to even hold the bow, but he knew she learned the arts of the hunt from childhood. Fascinated as she was with the physical and spiritual. "Put down that toy! You plan to supplant me? We have guests! One of which is now, as you should know, part of this tribe! Picked by T'a'u'weke himself!"

Her grip relaxed while the concern in her eye remained. The trio walked through the village and eyes stayed fixed upon them. Gabriel was a newcomer to them. Much was unspoken after their previous visit, or rather, unexplained.

"Where is Grandfather Pu'aki?" Weka'u asked. "These men wish to ask him a question. Is he at the temple?"

"No," the command was stern. "Thank you for your suggestion Drice, but I have no intentions of fighting the entire village."

Drice froze and turned slowly to face the captain. So now he finally chose to speak? Anger burned beneath his eyes. He had only taken charge because to this point leadership seemed to have disolved. No one had wanted to take the mantle, and regardless of what the captain said Drice had no qualms about killing when it was needed. They weren't murderers and thieves? He wanted to laugh, in a way that was all he was now.

He glanced to the right and caught Cailey's eyes and gulped. No he wasn't that. He was...he didnt know what he was anymore and that was the problem. Cailey looked knowingly at him as if she saw through him and into his thoughts. "Its okay." she mouth silently.

He unhooked the Kamir letting the veil hang loosely around his neck in a solemn gesture. He didn't like the plan, disagreed with it completely but he would do what he was told. But there would be a talk later. One that he wasn't looking forward too.

As the crew moved to follow the Captain's orders Cailey slipped beside him while they walked. "It's not your fault." she whispered. "Its not your fault I got hurt, in a way its not these villagers fault either."

He cringed realizing the truth of the what she was saying. He had allowed his anger to cloud his judgement anger at letting her getting harmed, anger at these people for showing how weak he was that he could not defend his sister from everything. He swallowed and let it go trying to find the peace in the void of his emotions. "I'm sorry."

Cailey snickered. "I know you far better then they do brother. I know that you were just trying to look out for everyone. You and the captain are alot of like when you think about it. You were putting all the risk on yourself and limiting to the others."

"His plan puts us all at risk. He puts you at risk."

Cailey nodded. "Life is risk, you taught me that."

Cyradis was happy to be moving. The group was largely silent during the walk through the jungle, and it was refreshing to hear someone give some suggestions. Cyradis found it somewhat odd that Arlen would suggest a tactic involving violence. She always thought he was more of a relaxed fellow. Then again, she thought that of Gabe as well. She was compelled to wonder how many others were as mysterious as these two.

She looked first at Drice. Everything about him seemed like a clever disguise. As if he were trained to always be not what he seemed. Hashasim was the word Arlen used. She had heard it before, but like most who know the word, they know even less about the people it describes. Cailey - certainly his sister or other close relative - was still very interesting to Cyradis. Despite all she must have gone through, she still maintained a certain innocense while seeming to be completely unafraid even knowing they were walking into a situation that could very well be deadly if handled wrong.

Next, her eyes found Jade. She'd been on the crew for a little less than two weeks and had already experienced their worst run of luck to date. Cyradis knew very little of her, but her connection to the spiritual world seemed strong indeed. It's not your average shaman who can not only summon, but maintain the spirit of her brother in the mortal world for such a long time. Perhaps she was unaware of her connection, and merely thought it some other supernatural work at play. In any case, it was her physical and life force that kept her brother anchored.

Finally her eyes found Archamae. Diliberately last, perhaps, but Cyradis wasn't certain she was quite ready to face her. Logic told her Archamae was not her enemy. the pilot knew she was a Kellan long before Cyradis knew of her Dominion ties. If she were a zealot, Cyradis would have been killed in her sleep or poisoned or some other indirect method of death months ago. No, instead, Archamae choose to get to know Cyradis, recently anyway. She asked about Kell and about Cyradis' childhood; not question likely asked by one's enemy. Despite at all that, though, there was still a part of Cyradis that blamed all Dominions for thier nation's unprovoked attack. Guilty by association, as it were. And that part of Cyradis' psyche was very difficult to ignore. Eventually she'd have to talk to Archamae again, but for now, for the sake of her own sanity, they would remain silent.

"All except one thing my Capitahn. With how miss Cyradis... With how The Great Archmage of Kell: Cyradis, rather, has some unique geomancy on her side, perhaps she could embellish a bit, being near the volcano as we are, to strengthen our points. Unfortunately, she seems out of earshot. Hopefully you have some... secret communication methods with Sephara or our Archmage?"

The mention of her name pulled her attention to the trio leading them the last few hundred feet to the village center. Cyradis gave an annoyed look to Arlen's back, "Barring the mystical and difficult task of simply saying 'Now,' my scruffy friend, I would not suggest meddling with such a powerful natural force, especially if the source of the island's power if from within the volcano." She spoke jsut above a whisper to not attract too much attention to her words from the locals. "That is, unless you prefer your undergarments in the burning and melting style." Cyradis rolled her eyes at the undoubtedly amused grin Arlen now wore, "And if you insist on attaching titles to my name," she added, "then the only applicable one is my rank: Vehir."

Cyradis cleared her mind and took a deep breath as Weka'u stopped before a large, importaint-looking hut; likely the island's center of government. Gripping her makeshift staff, Cyradis concentrated on the island's magical presence. She could sense the presence of the rocks Weka'u spoke of, but the strength of thier power was still hard to tell. She would likely only know once the stones were used against her.

OOC: Vehir would be something equivilent to a Captain in today's ground military.