It was hard to believe that the night before he'd been in a fight. A real fight, not just someone doing their damndest to kick the crap out of him. Felt a little different. People had died. He'd seen it before and would see it again many times before his end but it still never sat right with him. Elhadron had always felt that one of the worst crimes against the world a man could commit would be to take another person's life unjustly. And who was to say what was just?

There'd just been so much blood spilled completely unnecessarily. Elhadron took great pride in the fact that he was very slow to anger. He felt that anger was an ugly emotion, and when left to run wild on its own it twisted people and their goals into unrecognizable horrors.

Nonetheless... Elhadron was angry.

He'd done what he could during the fight for the elves who'd fallen until he'd been yanked back by the collar only to see a sword carve through the grass below where his head had been. Scrambling back to his feet, he'd glanced behind him to find a rather impatient-looking Arayala Silverhands. Suddenly aware that she was waiting for him, it occurred to Elhadron that he was endangering her by staying. Not waiting to see how the fight turned out, he'd turned on his heel and raced off through the trees.

He'd turned to watch her behind him, unwilling to leave her behind. She was the easiest combatant for his eyes to follow, since her lower arms conducted heat much more poorly than normal ones. He'd waited crouched on his heels, watching her and trying to figure out what he'd do if she fell. Luckily his fears were not realized and she followed after him.

He and Ara had laid low for the next few hours, silent and watching for more guards. It was dawn before Elhadron felt safe enough to go back to check the clearing. He didn't dare bring up the hood of his cloak. If there were still soldiers around, he would need his peripheral vision.

The sun came blasting down between the treetops, searing into his eyes and his skin. Squinting against it, he shaded his eyes with one hand. There were few enough people lying in the clearing, at least compared to what he had feared. It looked as though the bodies had already been looted for valuables, and there was little left for Elhadron to use to identify them. Hopefully whoever came for them would recognize the fallen, let their families know what had happened.

Elhadron was briefly reminded of his own family. If he had fallen here, who would have known? Jord and Ara maybe. The others didn't even know his name, and certainly he had no loved ones here. There would have been no one to tell his family that he'd been killed. They would simply have to assume it when years passed with no word from him.

He gritted his teeth and covered his eyes with one hand. Too bright. Finally yanking his cloak up, he turned to walk out under the cover of the trees. He was filled with doubt as to how he could possibly help the rebellion pick up the pieces after this. They'd been so desperate for leadership, for hope. They deserved that much, after the suffering Gathodel had caused them. Most of all, they deserved it because Elhadron knew what lay in store for the wood elves and half-elves of Elentari if Gathodel had his way.

I don't know how many of us are left, he thought. Ara and I escaped. Many others did, but they may flee for good after this. What's left for them here? Last night they had hope, but all they've seen is death and chaos. Perhaps I can--

His musings were cut short as he took a sharp involuntary breath. With dismay he realized he'd been out in direct sun too long and felt the inevitable force gathering in his chest of--

*FSCHEW*

--a sneeze. And another. And after a tense moment... one more that was thankfully the last. He closed his eyes and shook his head. He still wasn't entirely sure why bright light had this effect on him, but it was considerable more obnoxious than the migraines, even if it wasn't nearly as painful.

Still.... if Elhadron was right and they'd have some travelling to do today... he'd have a good taste of those as well. They wouldn't reach Taure until the following night, and only then if they travelled during the day.

When they reached the gates, Elhadron had long since fallen silent. Even walking with his eyes closed as often as he felt safe, it felt as though his skull were being split apart slowly, as though his lovely companion had decided to crack him apart instead of walking by his side. Every dry twig snapping underfoot felt explosively loud, and even indirect sunlight had begun to feel like fire burning deep in his eye sockets. Eventually the pain had defeated even Elhadron's good-natured attempts at conversation. He just couldn't sustain the effort.

The sun had set by the time they found their way around to the trade district. Elhadron was deeply disappointed he hadn't yet had the chance to pay his respects in the temple district. It would have to wait. There was little enough of beauty in this district to comfort the dark elf after the last day, but perhaps the opportunity to help the rebellion pull themselves together again would be worth it.

He rapped on the door, and when it opened, two wood elves stood in the doorway. One tensed at the sight of the drow waiting with one hand in his pocket. He opened his mouth for some recrimination and his companion laid a hand on his shoulder with a sharp shake of his head. Elhadron looked a little closer and recognized one of the elves he'd dragged from the fray.

With a nod of thanks, Elhadron led the way into the room to see who else had committed to a second meeting.

It was dawn, and the sun filtered through the branches of the tress, upon the blood stained clearing. Picking up his axe, and reattaching it to the caribenas on his strap, Jord slung the mighty weapon back over his right shoulder. He got up, all he could think about was the fact that he needed to save Kyne, but he needed to escape, and wouldn't be any use to his brother if he was dead.

Keeping low, Jord made his way into a denser part of the forest, and ducked behind a large tree, out of sight. He removed the empty belt of bolts from his crossbow, grabbed a spare belt from the side of his black, leather belt, and fitted the set of crossbow bolts into the rotating cylinder. He loaded it, severing the loop holding one of the bolts, and moving it into place, he tossed the crossbow back over left shoulder.

He stood there for a second, sure that he had forgotten something... and then it occurred to him, Kyne had not arrived here alone, he had travelled on his trusty steed Tabron, and the Dwarf knew that he would not want the horse to be left alone, when nobody knew what was to happen in the near future. Jord put his thumb and fore finger to his mouth, and sent a high pitched whistle, echoing through the forest, just how Kyne had taught him, all those years ago.

Within a minute, the mahogany bay, gelding courser came countering franticly out of the foliage, coming to a halt in front of Jord. "Easy boy," the Dwarf whispered in to Tabron's ear in Elvish, stroking his black mane, "easy." He took a short rope from one of the saddlebags, attached it to the horses reigns, and lead him through the forest, towards the city of Taure.

The night skies had crept in by the time Jord had reached the main town, leaving the star spangled sky to watch over the forests. Dust blew across the ground, changing direction at the blink of an eye, as the unpredictable breeze weaved it's way between the buildings. Jord was astonished by how dirty this area was, as if it were a slum, hidden amongst a beautiful forest, as he lead Tabron through the town, searching for any signs of what could be a rebellion, forming once more in aid of the prisoners of Gathodel.

Making his way through the dark and dingy alley ways, a shady figure came out from the darkness, wearing a hooded cloak that covered his face, and brushed past the Dwarf. As he walked away, Jord felt something in his hand, a piece of parchment, he opened his hand, and unfolded it to find a few words scribbled across the small note.. It read: Turn left at the end of the alley way, second building on the right. He continued along the path, following the instructions he had been given, until he reached an old tattered door, that belonged what looked like an old store, that had been long forgotten. Leaving Tabron outside, the Dwarf placed his hand upon the door knob, turned it, pushed open the door, and to his great suprise found a group of Elves scattered around the room.

He scanned their new meeting place, until he laid his eyes upon two familiar faces... Aryala and Elhadron sat in the corner of the room, the Wood Elf whispering something  in the Drow's ear. Jord approached them, glad that they were both ok, and spoke once more in a hushed voice,"it's good to see you two are alright.. so what's the plan then?"

The attitudes of the time were especially apparent here in the streets of Taurë, and many passing locals watched Reece suspiciously as they went about their business, a disreputable looking Highborne like that had to be up to no good. Then suddenly, a childish giggling came from around Reece's feet, where there now stood a small Wood Elf girl, who would seem to the High Elf to have appeared from nowhere. Her small, round face was grubby from playing in the mud, as was her plain looking dress, and her long, brown hair was matted and straggly. Looking up at Reece with a cheeky looking smile she held out a small wooden cup full of water.

"You must be thirsty," she announced to the taller male Elf, smiling sweetly.

To Reece it would seem that the girl had spoken the words as normal, but her mouth had not moved, and the words were only heard in the High Elf's head. Giggling again, the girl told Reece confidently, "you're looking for Kyne!" She sounded very pleased with herself as she spoke, and still her voice only existed in the Highborne's mind. With a final giggle the girl ran off down a near by alley, stopping just in Reece's sight. Were Reece to follow she would run off again, but always just stopping so that he could see where she had gone, leading him through the back streets.

There were gods to pray to for hopeless causes but for a nearly-hopeless one, Ara wasn’t quite sure and she was sure the resistance had the early symptoms of one. “It is good to see you as well,” then she added, respectfully, “My condolences on the capture of your brother.” It sounded too formal even for her but it seemed like the sort of thing one elf would say to comfort another. Plus, she really meant it. Araweth had never been far from her thoughts and if she was in Jord’s place with Araweth in Stormchaser’s, Ara was sure that she too would be almost beside herself in fury and worry.

As it was, she was barely keeping herself together, despite the control she emanated. The guards that had stormed them were part of Gathodel’s private army. For a moment, she was anxious that the Royal Guard had been sent and, gods forbid, Araweth would be amongst their numbers. She counted her blessings when she saw no sign of him there.

“The hours between the capture and now are not too long for us to not do anything about,” she continued. “Gathodel would want information on our numbers and anything else he thinks the captured would know. That would mean they’re more useful to him alive than dead but interrogation would definitely play a part in extracting that information.”

Her words had caught the attention of the others and they gathered tentatively around the trio. “I wouldn’t rule out torture,” she added in stoic voice. “But there’s a chance they’re still alive and that’s good enough for me. But Stormchaser remains the resistance’s priority target and they know that if we’re coming for anyone, he’s the one we want. So, gentleman, we're going to need a cunning plan.”

Wulfe may have been living within the woodland of Elentari for years now, but rarely did he venture into the city of Tauré. With the recent events that had been unfolding it was becoming increasingly harder to find a meal as people tended to travel in groups and were armed heavier than they used to be. Paranoia had set among the travelers, and now the vampire found himself within the city looking for blood. He knew that the main streets would be too much of a risk to hunt on, so he found himself walking through the slums, choosing a meal.

As Wulfe was walking down a seemingly deserted alleyway with his hood raised to conceal his ghostly white complexity, and thus his vampirism, he caught sight of a recent edition of The Herald. Living outside of society Wulfe only learned of goings-on through copies of The Herald he would find on his victims, or from conversations he would hear from travelers, but the last he had been able to gather was that a band of rebels had begun an uprising against the current regime. Now looking the paper Wulfe saw that the leader of the rebels, Kyne Stormchaser, had been captured and was being held prisoner after a meeting had been stormed by troops of Gathodel.

The vampire himself didn’t have any emotions towards either side of the cause but felt that he wanted to do something about the current situation, as it was affecting his hunting. However for now the vampire had simply let current affairs pass him by.

Discarding the copy of The Herald that he had been reading Wulfe continued on his way through the slums looking for a meal. The place seemed deserted, yet still seemed to have the aura of life that was lacking from the woodland at present. Deciding to leave the slums the vampire exited his current street and emerged in the trade district of the city. Despite the sun having set there was still a buzz of activity here, which meant that if the vampire wanted to feast he would have to venture into the backstreets.

Wandering through the backstreets Wulfe noticed just how dirty the place was. Obviously this part of the district had long ago fallen into disrepair and had been abandoned, yet still there appeared to be light ahead coming from one of the buildings. The light was faint but Wulfe’s vampiric eyesight allowed him to notice it. The vampire approached the building and saw that it had once been a magical herb shop. The light was coming form what appeared to be an oil lamp inside that cast its light through the cracks in the boards that covered the windows, and from inside came the murmur of voices. It seemed as if this place wasn’t abandoned after all.

Then from behind him the vampire heard the clatter of hooves and launched himself upwards where he clung to the broken down wall of the building opposite, blending into the shadows. Around the corner came a dwarf with a horse. He said nothing as he left the steed outside and entered the building. Dropping back down to the floor Wulfe began thinking about why people would congregate in such a derelict part of the city. It didn’t take the vampire long to come to the realization that a group meeting here didn’t want to be found easily, and that the only group in the area that Wulfe knew about was the resistance. This was his opportunity to finally do something to return Elentari to the way it was, he could now help and would no longer let current affairs pass him by.

Entering the building the way the dwarf had, Wulfe came into a room occupied by many people. He lowered his hood to show his face, and then addressed the group.

“Recently Elentari has fallen into a state of paranoia and conflict. Many trade routes are now being avoided and travelers pass through the woodland less and less. As you may be able to tell I am a vampire and as such a lack of travelers means a lack of food. I believe that things will always be so unless you succeed in your goals, and that is why I am here. I am Milson Wulfe, and I wish to help you in your cause”

OOC: After this post I will stick to the posting order, many apologies if I have annoyed anyone

IC:

Reece followed the young maiden, keeping his distance as not to seem threatening but also remaining within line of sight so both parties could be aware of where each other was. Reece was one hundred percent sure that the young girl wanted him to follow her, the manner of which she moved suggested this but as he was lead down the dirty backstreets Reece could not help but feel a hint of suspiscian. What if this was an ambush? The mildly psychic would easily be able to play such a trick on Reece's mind as he had no talents whatsoever in mind magic.

None the less Reece decided to follow and though he eventualy lost track of all sense of direction he eventually found himself in an abandoned part of the trade district... except the only problem was everything wasn't abandoned. In front of him stood a herbalist building which, quite clearly had people inside.

Hesitating slightly Reece held back. He was sure that this must be the place where the resistance must be meeting but how was he, a high elf going to make an entrance without arising suspiscian?

Taking a deep breath Reece disregarded these negative thoughts and strode forth. Entering the building he was surprised to see that he was not the only one about to make his introduction,

“Recently Elentari has fallen into a state of paranoia and conflict. Many trade routes are now being avoided and travelers pass through the woodland less and less. As you may be able to tell I am a vampire and as such a lack of travelers means a lack of food. I believe that things will always be so unless you succeed in your goals, and that is why I am here. I am Milson Wulfe, and I wish to help you in your cause”

"You're a friend of Lochland O' Conners arn't you?" questioned Reece as he emerged from the shadows, "If this is the case then I believe that you can be trusted."

Reece turned his head to the others as he offered them a friendly smile,

"My name is Reece Fay, as you can tell I am a High Elf but I am also a friend of Kynes. I hear he is in trouble and I would like to offer my assistance in re setifying this problem."
 

Too much was going on. Too many voices. Things were getting loud, and to make everything worse, they were beginning to get violent. Elhadron had many things to contend with right now and it would help if that candle weren't blazing like a fallen star in the corner of Elhadron's vision.

"Jord," he murmured to the armed dwarf. Elhadron wasn't a man to raise his voice in anger, and even now he hoped to avoid doing it. "Jord. Lower your weapon. Please," he asked. He took a deep breath and glanced up at the other elves sitting around the room. None of them would speak against one another. None of them even knew what they wanted, only that things had to change and they needed to be part of it. If he could merely advise them he would but... they seemed so lost, sitting huddled in an abandoned slum.

He lowered his gaze, grey eyes boring down into his hands where they rested on his knees. He swallowed, steeling himself for the very thing he'd hoped would not be necessary. Perhaps he couldn't command their loyalty or respect, but someone had to be the first to set certain standards for this movement. Pressing his hands to his knees, he braced himself and stood. He knew that they could succeed, if only they could hang together and not fall prey to the low standard Gathodel had set for this conflict. That knowledge, that certainty, he wrapped around himself like a cloak and spoke with an authority he wasn't sure he had.

A high elf entered, and unfortunately the first thing he saw was a dwarf drawing a weapon on a potential ally. "There will be no violence here tonight. The first man to shed another's blood when we should be forging alliances will be cast out from the protection of the group. Milson," he turned his gaze to the vampire. "I will make no secret of my feelings about your motivations, and I do not believe the opinion of the group needs to be stated about them. You live for bloodshed and I will not have it here. If you can live for now by that simple precept I am the last man who will turn you away. Reece, this applies to you as well."

He took a deep breath, and there was a moment of tense silence. He spoke to the others, and only his roving gaze made it clear that his softly-spoken words applied to them all. "Again and again the dedication of this group has been tested. I've seen wood elves look with distrust on high elves for sharing Gathodel's race. I myself was turned away." A few wood elves shied from Elhadron's gaze.

"I've seen them cast scornful glances at a dwarf for being only what he is," he addressed Jord pointedly, flicking his gaze toward the bow he had leveled on Milson. He couldn't exempt the dwarf from this. He himself had borne the racist judgments of the others, and he had no place to turn them on another.

"And now we draw weapons on one another." He raised his eyebrows and shrugged, the dim candlelight shining on the black skin of his hands and face. "If we cannot be peaceful, if we refuse others as Gathodel refuses us... we do not deserve to be here. We do not deserve to say that Gathodel is unjust."

Switch of tone. He'd scolded them enough, and his heart went out to them in their reflexive fear of outside threats, particularly in a time of such stress and danger. He couldn't upbraid them all night.

"Jord, in answer to your suggestion earlier. I am aware that not all of Gathodel's men do not all agree with his orders. I would not see my friends and allies shedding the blood of men and women who only wish to serve and protect their kin." He took a breath and pressed a hand to his forehead. He really just wanted to sit down and have quiet, but this was not to be the night for it.

"But there are other reasons to minimize bloodshed, particularly of the Royal Guard. Those I will explain later. For now... I'll keep my long-term plans to myself until I'm certain I have something to offer you." A few of the elves exchanged glances. This drow would make their plans for them, and tell them so little?

He finally sat down, drained by the effort of speaking before his allies. Folding his hands, he rested his chin on his knuckles for one last point. He spoke only slightly above a plaintive whisper. "All I ask is that you not throw all our efforts in vain by resorting to the same childish disregard for our kin that has earned Gathodel the hatred of his people."

There was a brief hush as many of the elves present struggled to respond, to find in themselves some answer to Elhadron's expectations. Respect for the lives and dignity of their kin, even if they were enemies, was a noble goal but could it be done? Could they make a difference without striking back at Gathodel in the only language he understood?

Perhaps most troubling of all, could they trust a dark elf to set such goals for them? Would he betray any confidence placed in him, turning on his allies like the worst of drow? Racial hatred ran deep, and even now every member of the group struggled against it. Only the most hopeful and optimistic of men could dare to hope that the rebellion would learn to overcome such differences, but Elhadron was such a man. With luck, he was not the only one.