Niculaie had been out more than once looking for any signs of Anna, but, had nothing to show for his efforts. Nothing but a rage he could barely contain. Niculaie was only held together by his love for his son Gosha.To who laid beside him, and he glanced to his son with a small smile, "I bet your mother is thinking of you even now, I know it." He said and looked down to his work at hand, on the coffee table in the living quarters of the keep he and Anna had been assigned, he had many small metal parts, before him laid a disassembled pistol, and he went about cleaning the gun, the pistol. Niculaie though back over the time that had passed since Anna's abduction, had he not shattered the wards with his stupid mishap, perhaps she would not have been taken.

Hard to say if it was true or not, but in the time since she had left he had put himself to work ranging, was that how you would say it? Tracking down people who lacked the ability to use their freedom wisely and capture or more often than not punishing them for their crimes against society, with a bullet to the brain. The Abyss reaver just leaned back on the couch, and closed his eyes as he sought to calm his thoughts, part of him was almost willing to go to Mekkor and plead for his help, but he had resisted thus far. Niculaie was dressed simply in a tunic the color of sand, and and brown leather breeches and thick does doe hide leather boots. His dark hair a mess but tied back to keep out of his face.

He looked to Gosha's nanny, "Go put him down for a nap, would you? I appreciate it." Niculaie rubbed his jaw, he needed to shave had had grown in a bit of scruff on his face, but lately he hadn't care too much about it. "Damn it, where are you."

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Wyrvaust had left his family after he told them he needed to speak privately with Nic. The demon was not nervous persay, as he walked the brazier lit streets of that city underneath his own lair on his way to visit Niculaie, but he wasn't looking forward to the talk he and the other abyss demon had to have. Wyrvaust had a lot to say to Nic... some of it involved Anna, and some of it had to do with family ties Wyrvaust had just recently found out he and Nic shared. It was all very... complicated, and disconcerting, but Wyrvaust was used to being disturbed as a self-exiled member of the Adram clan. Muustala, the demon he had thought was his sire turned out not be his maker at all. It turned out that the demon who had truly sired him had also been the one to torment him for ages, only he claimed it had not been HIM who had menaced him at all, but that Mekkor had done so in his guise. It was almost too absurd to believe.

It was a long walk from the Sapphire keep to the Glass Keep where Nic and his son lived on the west side, almost dead west of the keep that would be Anwarr's soon enough. The shadows folded the distance to bring him to the otherside of Sapphire springs and to Nic's doorstep. The lovely spring pool and its falls were practically in the front yard of the Glass Keep, which was named after the blocks of smokey quartz and obsidian it was built from. Now standing on the stoop, he knocked and waited for an answer. When the door opened to present the face of Nic, Wyrvaust eyed him a moment before he entered as the demon stood aside. He looked around as he walked into the main floor entryway. All the rooms were quite large, and the place had quite a few stories, an asymmetrical tower really whose roof met the ceiling of the cavern but with balconies that extended out beneath it.

"The son of the Snake seems tired..." He observed. "We are sorry to bring the news we must. Is there someplace comfortable we might speak?"

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Niculaie was surprised to find Wryvaust, who was related to him more closely then they had known, at his door step. "Wryvaust? Come in." He bade and would shut the door behind him and nodded to the other, "Yes, of course." Niculaie led Wryvaust deeper within until they reached the den, it was only him and Gosha, as well as the nanny. So they would be free to speak as they wished. "Please have a seat." And Niculaie sat back on the couch and went back to assembling the pistol he had been cleaning.When he was done he would lay it down on the table, the gun was empty, the slide cocked back still exposing the empty chamber.

"Whats on your mind, Wryvaust? I didn't accidently knock out a ward again, did I?" But the look on the others face told him this was serious.. "Did you find Anna?" He asked flatly, dead serious now as well. Wryvaust certainly had more resources than Nic, perhaps if this were russia it would be different, fact was Niculaie had few allies and contacts here in this desert. The young demon would just listen, hear what his elder had to say.:

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The tall abyss demon was dressed in his usual loosely layered robes of earthy colors. His long black hair was pulled back in a single braid Arilwen had woven for him. His feet were bare and steps perfectly silent as he followed his clansman as he led the way to that pleasantly accomodated sitting room. On a different day he might have laughed at the ward crack. Instead he just shook his head. "No," he said. "The wards are stronger than they have ever been." A god alone might break them given enough time. When a seat was offered, he took the chair that most appealed to him, broad, strong and straight backed. He settled, gave the room in general a quick inspection, then locked his indigo eyes with Nic's expectant gaze.

"There is so much the Raven needs to speak of... He shall not delay in what needs be spoken. He shall begin by saying he has discovered that the Raven and Reaver are even closer as brothers than previously believed. It has come to his attention that the proxy of Mekkor is his true sire, thus Mekkor is his sire. A proxy is an extention of a being... a part of them as an arm or leg is, only it is a part that can, though extremely improbable... become somewhat, though never entirely, independant of them. The object we try to reach is that he is your clan brother of the same sire. Mendorin is the Raven's sire and the ancient proxy of Mekkor. That said... our kinship is tied to Anna." He sucked in a deep breath. "Has Nic wine?" he asked and sat quietly while Nic got up and poured some wine. He nodded to the demon as he handed him a glass, which he drank deeply of before setting it aside.

"A child of Mendorin came to the Raven and his wife while collecting an orphan to call their own in the desert. Her name is Nuni. The Desert Fox found her trapped in flash cement. Her parents did not survive it." He drank some more wine. "Dantes is the acolyte's name. It was he took Anna. He came to tell us... everything... He claims to be protecting Anna... Nic, the innocent child Gosha, all of us from the consequences of the visions shown to him by the fates... for it was chance he was shown what he was when he gazed into his master's oracle. The Raven sought this knowledge... to verify it. It was all true, and no options would alter the course of it without resulting in even worse outcomes. If Anna remains with Nic... their child will die, and their marriage will end because of that death." He let Nic absorb what he had told him so far.

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Niculaie would make no other attempts at humor as Wryvaust explained they were both sired by the same being essentially, though throuhg a proxy of some sory was Wryvaust had, but Mekkor was his sire all the same. "Seems he gets around, hm?" Nic arched a brow though wondering what that meant for them, "There is also another like me, Felix." He offered, hoping to hear from his brother reaver soon. When Anna was mentioned though he went still, "Yes, wine of course." He would return with that wine in hand and offered Wryvaust a glass as he sat back down.

Nic had a gladd of wine but could not bring himself to drink it as he listened, Dantes.. an Oracle. This sounded farfetched to Niculaie. "This Dantes is kin?" He asked, and if it was true that would really rub him the wrong way, Niculaie knew magic and all that was real but it was still hard to swallow, but as much as he believed in that.. he refused to believe that he could not protect his family and keep it whole at the same time. "For someone who would so nobly protect the person most precious to me, his cloak and dagger execution only enrages me." Niculaie said, resisting the urge to throw his glass at the wall in a fit of rage.

"Are you telling me there is no alternative, who would see harm done to my son? Who would would destroy my family Wryvaust?" Did Wryvaust expect Niculai to just accept this, did Anna just accept it? He could not believe Anna would just leave of her own accord without a word, "Something feels wrong, Wryvaust. Terribly wrong."

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Wyrvaust heaved a deep breath. "Dare not believe it was easy for the Raven to accept any of this. He tested every fact to disprove it as lies... Was certain the Toad was lying and did all he could to prove it... but he spoke true. ALL he said true. He even admitted to using trickery to bring Anna to him, and to the haven of his sire. Taken him prisoner the Raven has, and a model captive the Snake's Progeny has been. If harm comes to him it might endanger Anna. Mendorin values little but he places a high value on clan. Trade him we might for Anna. But Nic... the Raven MUST have Niculaie's most solemn promise... that if Anna is returned to the Lair of Wyrvaust, he shall not approach her... not torment her with the sight of her son who she cannot be near. Until we know otherwise... Nic cannot be with Anna."

Wyrvaust was sure Anna was being used as a tool to reunify lost bonds. One thing Nic could count on was Wyrvaust being truthful with him. "Dantes no doubt involved himself to ingratiate himself with the Raven and his chosen kin, but it makes his claims no less true. Gosha will perish if his mother remains with Niculaie. For whatever reason... Nic's family has become the obsession of a devil who seeks to divide the Reaver and his Lark. She will stop at nothing to kill the child to make this happen. Killing her would only make matters worse... horrible retaliations would result. The Raven knows little about this devil, for her echoes are shrouded. What he could discover about her was only found through the fatelines of the Reaver, his mate and child. There is only one thing to be done, friend of dragons. The Magic Eater must put self aside and content himself by being a father to his son, and let his wife go. It is the only way... or we all of us shall be in dire peril." Wyrvaust really didn't get yet that he and his family could not be harmed. Did that include Nic? Memnoch had not included Wyrvaust's demon clan as family, because Wyrvaust only counted his chosen tribe as family, and if they weren't related to Wyrvaust, then they didn't fall under the devil's protective command over events either. Wyrvaust, Arilwen, Anwarr, Cevari, any other children they produced, and even Nuni fell under the contract they had made. Anyone Wyrvaust sired would not be included in the contract. Adopted children yes, sired acolytes no. BUT... many things could happen to people outside of the contract which might result IN the endangerment of Wyrvaust or his family members. The protective reach Memnoch controlled could extend broader than just his family.

"Will Nic vow most sacredly to divorce his wife and stay away from her?" Of course he knew it was a lot to ask and he was sure Nic would fight it, but he had to make him submit to the facts. The alternative was not something he preferred, but would resort to if he had to.

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Niculaie tried his best to stay calm as he heard more of the matter, but the more Wryvaust spoke the more the Reaver just found himself on the edge of throwing up. Give up Anna, someone he loved as much as life itself, he found that it was a hard pill to swallow, and he looked at Wryvaust the pain in his eyes appearent as he did so. "What?! You cannot be serious. You want me to just forsake her because some coward threatens us from the shadows? I find it hard to believe if you were in my shoes you would let this person get away with this?" Nic then took his wine in a single gulp and slammed his glass down on the table.

"Is that how the desert tribe defends its own? It doesn't feel right. It is one thing to stay awaay from her, to watch my beloved from a far, but to just let this devil win? Just to accept this as how things are going to be, I am not sure that I can. I will not fear defending those I love Wryvaust! I will never abandon Anna and I will not let my son perish." If anything this only served to push him toward Mekkor, the most evil bastard he knew, but Mekkir knew how to get things done. Knew how to handle things.

"If I am to lose my mate, someone will pay for it in blood. Gosha deserves better than to live in a broken home, Wryvaust." Perhaps it would be Niculaie's blood that was spilt, who knows. "Gosha deserves to be with his mother, not with me."

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Wyrvaust sighed deeply, his expression grim. He understood perfectly how Niculaie felt. He had been driven insane by the near loss of his wife, first to Sammael, and then to Gabrian. "The Raven would feel as the Reaver does in his shoes... Exactly as he feels. The choice is his... all his, but there are consequences to any action which results in Anna remaining his,,, each outcome one that shall remove her from him anyway. The death of his child is the kindest of those outcomes and would destroy his mate's spirit. A shell of her former self would remain. It is unfair to mother and child, the most innocent in this... but life is seldom kind or just. The child will perish if cared for by Anna. The child is key here somehow. The Raven will find out why if he can. There are times when we must place self aside. What would Anna want...? She so far has chosen to stay away. Free of domination the Raven is told, and his search into the sphere of knowledge has proved that pledge true. What keeps her away from husband and child is knowing her child and husband are safe for her absence. She is content in that knowledge. Will she be content if Nic tries to undo something the fates vow can only end in tragedy to seek another path? Anna and the child were almost killed once. Will they be saved next time? The wards make it safe here... but a child of Sammael and Lilith as an obsessed enemy is not one the Raven would be happy to have. Think of Anna in this, Reaver, and of Gosha. A son relys on his father. His mother sacrifices what she must to protect him. Fight it if no other choice he can embrace... but be prepared to accept the consequences which shall fall in the wake of that choice. Stay here in the city and be among friends, while we secure Anna's release and keep her safe above. The devil may tire of her game and the fates of mother and child change... Or some other influence may persuade her from her course... Until that time, do what is right, Niculaie. The Raven implores thee. Make the hard choice... the right choice here."

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"I want to do what is best for them, but so long as this devil is allowed to draw breath, will Gosha and Anna ever be safe?" Niculaie had to know, "How can we besure that harm does not come to them anyway? How do I know twenty years from now she just doesnt just hurt them out of boredom? Niculaie then shook his head. Niculaie had never faced down a devil before, perhaps it was beyond him to kill such a foe.

"If giving up my soul is what it takes to save her, then so be it. I can sacrifice that for them." MArsol and the desert tribe could not keep his family safe, "You may not be happy to have such an enemy, but I do not have a choice, she has made herslf an enemy. But, I am not stupid, I know I am too weak to protect my family, to keep them safe." Nic then tossed the gun back to the table. He had only one desire, to plunge a dagger into the heart of this enemy and bind her soul in an eternal prison. It would seem MEkkor would finally get his progeny's genuine devotion.

"So thats it? I can never hold my beloved again.. This is our grand plan?" Sacrafice. Wryvaust spoke of it, yet his wife was still at his side, whatever trials had come between them he did not know.:

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Wyrvaust flopped back against the chair's high back and shook his head. He was clearly not getting through to Niculaie. Wyrvaust knew a LOT about sacrifice. Arilwen was only by his side because he HAD sacrificed so much of himself for her. "It would be wrong to let the she devil separate the three, but she does not get what she wants. She wants Anna or Gosha, one or the other dead. Removing her from thee was the only answer we could find among all the viable possibilities that would save all three. Dantes discovered it. We verified it. It is what it is. Wisdom is what must be heeded here, Reaver. The Raven has looked at EVERY available option, as has Dantes, as has Mendorin, as has Ronwe, as has Memnoch. Killing the she devil trapping her, hiding Nic's family, seeking help of others... on and on. Some times fate is tied in a knot. Such is the case here. Even desperate efforts such as going to Maelmorda, Sammael, even Mekkor, sending all of thee to earth or another world. Either mother or child will die in every scenario BUT one, the one where Nic and Anna stay apart. In others Marsol ALSO perishes, in yet another Marsol, Nic, Anna and Gosha dies. In all scenarios where Nic perishes, so does either Anna or Gosha. There was even one scenario where at first neither Anna or Gosha die, but then Nic, Marsol and Sammael do, and all hell broke loose as a result, literally. Anna ends up killing herself out of guilt and Gosha enslaved by bitterly grievous advocates of Sammael and turned pure evil. All Nic has do here is remove himself from Anna and all three of thee shall live as would all others in every other event. We asked the oracle of Acheron himself if a prefferable option existed to the lesser evil Dantes discovered and all who looked proved least horrible. Agree to STAY AWAY, Niculaie." His dark blue eyes were burning on the Abyss Reaver now. He wanted to make sure Nic understood the situation. He wanted his vow that he would give Anna up. "It may not be forever... or it may..." he added truthfully.

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Wyrvaust flopped back against the chair's high back and shook his head. He was clearly not getting through to Niculaie. Wyrvaust knew a LOT about sacrifice. Arilwen was only by his side because he HAD sacrificed so much of himself for her. "It would be wrong to let the she devil separate the three, but she does not get what she wants. She wants Anna or Gosha, one or the other dead. Removing her from thee was the only answer we could find among all the viable possibilities that would save all three. Dantes discovered it. We verified it. It is what it is. Wisdom is what must be heeded here, Reaver. The Raven has looked at EVERY available option, as has Dantes, as has Mendorin, as has Ronwe, as has Memnoch. Killing the she devil trapping her, hiding Nic's family, seeking help of others... on and on. Some times fate is tied in a knot. Such is the case here. Even desperate efforts such as going to Maelmorda, Sammael, even Mekkor, sending all of thee to earth or another world. Either mother or child will die in every scenario BUT one, the one where Nic and Anna stay apart. In others Marsol ALSO perishes, in yet another Marsol, Nic, Anna and Gosha dies. In all scenarios where Nic perishes, so does either Anna or Gosha. There was even one scenario where at first neither Anna or Gosha die, but then Nic, Marsol and Sammael do, and all hell broke loose as a result, literally. Anna ends up killing herself out of guilt and Gosha enslaved by bitterly grievous advocates of Sammael and turned pure evil. All Nic has do here is remove himself from Anna and all three of thee shall live as would all others in every other event. We asked the oracle of Acheron himself if a prefferable option existed to the lesser evil Dantes discovered and all who looked proved least horrible. Agree to STAY AWAY, Niculaie." His dark blue eyes were burning on the Abyss Reaver now. He wanted to make sure Nic understood the situation. He wanted his vow that he would give Anna up. "It may not be forever... or it may..." he added truthfully.

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"Wrong.. and yet it is so, by your account the most powerful beings in this.. world and in hell cannot stop this she devil from doing as she pleases. What good is a clan or tribe if they cannot protect those who are a part of that tribe! Don't look at me like I am stupid Wryvaust. I understand what you want me to say, but once I say it.. I will be broken." He frowned deeply now as he deflated and just laid back against the couch. "I was lost before Anna and if I give her up, I don't think I will be truly alive anymore."

Niculaie then put his face in his hands and went quiet as Wryvaust made it clear these was no winning, only submission. "The desert of fire cannot protect us, how is it one female can bring the entire desert to its knees? And no matter how you look at it, this is submission in its purest form." Even Marsol could not see this to its end? Or Maelmorda? "He wondered if there could be a solution high up in the heavens, in haman.he did not exactly have alot of pull there..

Niculaie then stood up and grabbed the coffee table and flipped it all the gunparts and glasses scattered or shattered as he did so, "Very well, I wont see her.. I will submit." But in his heart there was only hate and rage, not submission. "Just leave me be, I do not wish to speak anymore." Niculaie then left the den to go to what was once his and Anna's room, where he sat on the dge of the bed, suddenly it was a cold lonely place now. "I am sorry, Anna. Forgive me." Niculaie then Focused his mind, ~Felix can you hear me? I need to see our maker.~ He would try until Felix replied to him.Mekkor had a way of getting things done, if that meant giving his maker his utter fealty, so be it.:

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Wyrvaust scowled at Nic when he agreed to stay away from Anna, but he could tell he had surrendered nothing. It was in his eyes, the tension in his muscles, the rage underlying his voice. The Raven stood with him and moved out of the way when he flipped the table over. "The Reaver still fails to understand. This is not about a vindictive devil but escaping FATE. Yes, the she devil is the instrument, but she and the three of thee are written in history to come. It is fortunate there IS an out. Gosha is fated to die... It was seen. Should we have hid it from Halfscale and let fate play out? I see now that perhaps we should have... Instead of trying to PREVENT a thing. DO anything to change it beyond the SINGLE answer we found, and the child, or the wife, and possibly many others are doomed. The Raven believed he could trust the demon he always held SO many doubts in before. It seems the Raven was right to doubt him, and wrong to trust him with such rare knowledge. I can see in his every quality that he will not submit to actually helping his wife and child. A pity... Go and be a fool and when the bodies stack in the Halfscale's shadow... The Raven shall call him friend no more. Marsol perhaps shall call him friend no more. The Raven implores thee one last time... DO what is right. Pursue this matter no further other than to remain aloof of Marsol's daughter." That said he could say no more. He regarded Nic a moment with troubled eyes and then turned to withdraw. He felt a terrible heaviness in his heart. He had truly believed he could trust Nic with the lives of his family and it was oppressive that he may have been wrong. He hoped Nic would back down still. He would hold onto that until Nic crushed the faith he had finally extended to him. Perhaps he had held his trust out to one too many people.

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Felix was at the bar in Castleguard. Things had gotten much better in the city since Artorius had taken over, though Mekkor had moved into a different haven. Artorius would never have allowed him to reside in HIS city. He would sooner let Caine move in. In any case, Felix was always open to Nic, well, unless something closed his mind off for him. ~"Brother... Good to hear from you. Is it time for me join you in the desert yet?"~ There were those plans of Mekkor's. The ones involving capturing Wyrvaust and bringing him back into the fold? Or... using his family members to achieve the same objective? ~"Mekkor is at home, bro. He is working on some project he is all hush hush about. Let me know if you can't raise him. If he's in the lab he's probably closed the curtains on his mind."~ Nic would find Mekkor was not mentally available at that given moment, but Nic barely had time to decide Mekkor was out of reach when his suavely even toned voice entered his mind. "Nic. Six months have passed and I've not heard from you. Made any progress securing our lost clan brother?" He had sent Nic back to Ametmorgu for a purpose. He shood have sent for Felix by now as Felix himself had mentioned, perhaps as a subtle heads up to Niculaie that Mekkor aka Morneaux had not forgotten the mission he had sent Niculaie on which Felix was to have joined him in. Nic had proven his loyalty so tilted the way he straddled the fence that the mission he had assigned him was how he could prove his loyalty to his clan. He hadn't done much to earn his sire's favor. Mekkor had given him and Felix a great gift in what he had made them, and Nic had shown his appreciation by teetering between his loyalties to Marsol and Mekkor, and he often seemed to forget Felix who remained constant in his friendship and devotion to Nic. "Tell me you have at least secured his trust." He begged to hear.

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Nic watched Wryvaust, the demon was hurting inside, he would not let them come to harm his wife and daughter. Though he would keep his distance, he would not divorce her. They said he could not see her, but they had made vows. He would keep those vows and love her from a distance, and he was sure she would do the same. Niculaie just scoffed, "By your account you went mad, when faced with a similar circumstance. I do not ever begin to say I knew what happened, try to understand that just letting her go is not an option for me. At least not an option I can swallow easily." He said calming himself as best he could, but the rage at this, it was so much. "I said I would keep my distance. But, promise me you will not rest until we can set things as they should be, Wryvaust." He had to know Niculaie would not rest, how could he? He would raise Gosha though, pass on the things he knew to his son.

Nic would then return to his bed chambers, but at the last moment took a detour to the armory and looked over the the weapons in his armory, mostly guns. ~Yes, I could use you here, in fact I need you brother.~ Niculaie would soon find himself talking to another, he listened as Mekkor spoke and then he sighed. ~I think that I do, though after tonight its a bit shaken. I am being forced to keep a distance from my beloved, some vision has them sure that if we remain together Anna and my son could die. It has me very frustrated.~

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Wyrvaust's shoulder dropped and he exhaled a deep breath. "The Raven understands." It was the best Nic could do and the abyss demon could ask no more of him. "Of course the Desert Fox shall do all he can to secure the happiness of Marsol's daughter. Uniting her with her child is something he shall strive always to achieve." He assured. He stayed put while Niculaie withdrew for that interim which carried the Abyss Reaver towards his bedroom only for his course to deviate to his arms locker. Wyrvaust poured himself another glass of wine while his clansman stepped out and paced the floor slowly while he drank it.

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When Nic said he needed him, Felix smiled and set his bottle of whiskey down. He was enjoying his freedom from Mekkor while he could. "I'm on my way then, brother," the only other original Abyss Reaver assured. Felix had sired his first acolyte three months ago, a fallen angel of swords in his mortal stage. He had chosen well. His youngblood's name was Gremora, an angel who had once been very close to Thane. Not that he remembered Thane or being an angel for that matter. Like many his mind had been wiped in the fall to transient mortality. Felix left his table and went to his room to pack.

Mekkor meanwhile heard Nic's response and gave it some thought, then asked for more details. He listened as Nic told him what Wyrvaust had told him. He encouraged him as needed to tell him everything Wyrvaust had reported to him, and when he'd heard it all he smiled a little and leaned back against the table he was standing by, ignoring the drops of blood which dripped from the table top and splattered one of his boots. His tones on Nic's ends sounded grim nontheless despite his faint smile. "I am sorry to hear you have lost your wife, but if I can help it the situation shall only prove temporary. In the meantime, your troubles might be just the thing to bond Wyrvaust to you. Just be careful not to let HIM drag you under his wing. There IS a bond between you. It is true he is mine. Why else would I go to such lengths to reclaim him? But it's delicate... Marsol is dear to the Morning Star. At the same time... Wyrvaust IS mine by blood. Mark over blood though... But that can be changed. Kill Wyrvaust and his mark may be broken, unless Marsol seared his mark into his soul." Marsol had not marked Wyrvaust's soul. He had not the experience to burn himself into anyone that deeply, despite his age. Wyrvaust had been the first Marsol had ever marked, even before Anna. Death would divide them... IF someone COULD kill Wyrvaust. "So there is no misunderstanding... I am not asking you to kill Wyrvaust though. All you and Felix need to do is get him to my Haven. If that proves impossible for whatever reason... then his wife or son. If necessary, THEY will bring him to me. Only this time I will not be in Hawkers' Forte or subject to a team of do good arch mages. My closest clan alone knows where my lair lies." And where was that? A stronghold in the Greenwood Rainforest, on the outter edge of Adram territory. He was deep in the swamp where the trees grew tall, the vines as thick as trees, the snakes and crocodiles gigantic, and all things creepy great in size or venom. It was the Black Keep otherwise known as the Snake Den. "I will do what I can about your family circumstances in the mean time. An answer will come to us in time." He wasn't sure of that of course, but he told Nic what he needed to hear. Better to ease his worries and give him hope until there was none. Mekkor was not convinced ALL options had been explored. He might think of possibilities they never would. "Felix will play on his sympathies as well... Give Wyrvaust something he can relate to... His suffering at my hands." Mekkor believed he made his acolytes strong by stretching their limits as far as they could go. It was simply what he believed no matter how WRONG and evil in deed he was. Nic would find that out for himself when it was HIS time to face himself.

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Niculaie was glad to hear Wryvaust promise such. As he listened to his master speak he would slowly let his eyes wander over his guns, he had a decent array of weapons, he even had a means to make his own ammunition, given the materials to do so were available. Niculaie had learned much back home in Russia, he bet no one would believe what his family was really like. But they were on earth, and he was not, so it was a nil point. The Abyss Reaver unlike Felix had not taken any under his wing and sired. He commited what Mekkor said to memory. ~"Thank you, my lord. I will do everything in my power to see this task is done."~ It would be sometime, Nic was to bet before the plan was seen through to its bitter end. He only hoped Wryvaust would not hate him for it. ~"I shall await the arrival of my brother, then."~ Nic said as he left the Arms locker to return back to the den where he spied that Wryvaust yet lingered. The abyss reaver then righted the table and began to clean up the mess he had made. "Wryvaust would it be acceptable for my brother Reaver to come and stay as my guest?" He asked the elder demon then, it was not like they were just going to let him waltz in without explanation.

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Wyrvaust cut a pair of thin twilight blue slits on Niculaie when he asked if his clan brother could come to Belowground. The Raven shook his head. "Trust another child of Mekkor into my domain? One who has served the Snake for over four-hundred years? No. Not acceptable. Meet with his brother beyond the Raven's province the Reaver must." If Niculaie wanted Felix at his side, he would have to convince Wyrvaust to let him enter the city. He was not about to just TRUST Felix, or any of Mekkor or Mendorin's progeny. The only way Dantes had been allowed to pass through the canyon's gateways was as Wyrvaust's warded prisoner, one he hoped to trade for Anna.

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Niculaie looked at Wryvaust as he was told he would have to meet with Felix outside of his domain. Niculaie just frowned a bit and sighed softly, "I understand your mistrust, and believe me, I get it. I was lucky to avoid his gaze and make it here, where I have been kept safe by Marsol. Felix hasn't had the same luck.." Niculaie went and poured himself another glass of wine and drank deeply of it. "Felix and I, were both remade into Reavers. You do not know what he has endured in that monster's care, Wryvaust."

Nic would sigh, "I cannot turn him away now, in his hour if need. He needs my help, he needs protection from that monster, Mekkor. I will beg you, if thats what it takes Wryvaust." Niculaie said solemnly.:

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Wyrvaust stared hard at Nic as he spoke of Felix needing his help. "What is the Halfscale saying? Why does the Serpent's most loyal pet need the help and protection of his brother? Has he not been in that monster's care for most of his life and stayed with him? Why now would he need help? What has changed?" Clearly he was not about to assume anything.

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Niculaie looked at Wryvaust a moment and then set down his glass, "Surviving a thing, is not the same as loving a thing, Wryvaust. I also once thought Felix was a mad fool. To stay at the side of someone so deranged as Mekkor." He sighed softly, "But sometime ago we were finally safe, atleast for a while and I got to meet the real Felix. He is not a monster Wryvaust, he is not Mekkor's pet, he was his prisoner! He is not as fortunate as you and I to have avoided a life outside of his sphere of influence. He is OUR brother, and he needs our help. I cannot abandon him in good conscience. Please help me to save him. Its only a matter of time before Mekkor gets to him." Niculaie pleaded, then he walked to the couch and flopped down into it.:

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Certainly Wyrvaust knew what Mekkor was capable of, but even he didn't know the full extent of it. He could imagine though. So when Nic spoke of how unfortunate Felix had been and how he had endured what he had as a prisoner, Wyrvaust heaved a deep sigh and folded his arms across his chest. "The Raven keeps a prisoner and has taken in a tenant. It is enough to spring on his chieftain without bringing home the carnal thrall of Mekkor. The Raven is the arm of the king and much is happening to carry his attention. He may camp in the eastern corridor with the tribes and public that gather there, until he has Marsol's vote of approval. If Marsol does not return soon, then the Raven shall decide if and when the favored child of Mekkor can enter his domain. We shall protect him from the eyes of the Snake while he sojourns in the camp. That is the best the Desert Fox can do at this time." He met Nic halfway.

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Niculaie sat up, he was sure Wryvaust was going to say no, would stand his ground. "I.. Thank you, Wryvaust." Niculaie was not sure what this demon before him actually liked to be called, what with all the nicknames and what not that flew about this place. "I could just hug you right now, but it would be awkward I think." Niculaie then smiled softly, "I also need something to do. I have a very specific set of skills Wryvaust, on earth I was known as a mercenary. Let me and Felix work to take care of unsavory elements that may reside in the desert." Niculaie very badly needed a cathartic manner in which to relese his anger, his rage.. his frustration.:

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When Nic thanked him the Abyss Demon shook his head. "No need. The Raven is trusting Nic and hopes his trust is well placed. Trust is not something the Raven has been treated well by." The demon moved a little closer to the door. "Very awkward," Wyrvaust agreed about the hugging. "Inform us when his... their clansman has arrived." He canted his head in thought when Nic spoke of needing to work. "There are raiders in the area, always are, but in Marsol's absence they are causing more trouble. Hunt down as many as can be found. Talk to them, convince them to become wardens, protectors of the realm, and as for those who refuse? Kill them." His hands dropped to his side. "If there is nothing else..." He wanted to get back to his family, and had to think about contacting Mendorin about the trade.

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Niculaie found the terms agreeable, and even had some work to help keep his mind off the terrible things assaulting his life. "I will keep you informed. I am curious, do you dislike the name Wryvaust? I find the manner in which you speak interesting but I do not completely understand it. Since I have been in the desert Marsol and Anna have been my whole world I didn't really think to get to know you or your family. I guess I had my head buried in the sand all this time." Niculaie was not lying, aside from Marsol and Anna, he had not cared much at all about anyone else. Well Marsol was gone and Anna was still prisoner, so he had all the time in the world. :

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Wyrvaust skewed his lips when Nic broached the subject of his name. "The Raven does not dislike his name... no, but he has other names given him by the desert and answers to them all. Wyrvaust is the name his Neffari family gave him when he reached his name age. Neffari have child names and spirit names. Wyrvaust is his spirit name. The child name is never spoken again. Raven is the name his dragon tribe gave him. Desert Fox is the name the desert people gave him." He explained. He was fine being called by any of them. He said nothing about the way he spoke. It was what it was, how he spoke. He knew his speech was strange to others but did not examine why he spoke as he did. He saw no need to speak of it. Wyrvaust wasn't actually someone who made himself easy to know. He was guarded, unsure, insane. He avoided people when he could unless they were a part of his very small inner circle. "Buried in the sand... I think I see..." Or maybe he didn't get what he was trying to say at all. "We shall keep the Reaver informed of his wife's situation." He decided to add, then turned to leave. He felt like their talk had come to a close.

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Niculaie nodded to Wryvaust, "Thank you for your patince tonight, I can be a bit of a hot head, especially when it comes to Anna." And with that he would bid Wryvaust farewell. "Good bye, Raven." He thought he would see how one of these other names fit, Raven didn't feel so bad, and he would finish cleaning up the mess he made before he took to imbibing some vodka, the wine was good, but nothing beat vodka, or whatever the Morashtar version was called. ~"Good news Felix, Wryvaust has agreed to extend protection to you. let me know when you reach the desert and we will meetup with you."~

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Wyrvaust smiled faintly at Nic when he extended his thanks and his apology. He would not say what his response would be had the situation been reversed. "The Raven understands why Nic is upset. This whole matter is quite upsetting." He truly empathized. The demon dipped his head to Niculaie in farewell and took his leave as Nic sat down to enjoy some vodka, if he could afford it. Valis and a few others imported various products from Earth, liquors high on that list, and Valis had recently brought back a large 'shipment' via his stargate to Castleguard. Because Valis had lived so long in Romania vodka was one of HIS favorite liquors. Brennpraga was the Morashtar equivalent of Vodka, and a great improvent over it in strength, smoothness and flavor alike.

Felix spent a day arranging for Crevan and his son Trirdan to take over the Blackstag Tavern and Inn while he was away. Felix had built on to the place and added rooms for rent. It made a lot more money for he and Nic now. Once business was settled he told his progeny to pack, and when he was ready, he and Gremora gated as far as Felix's shadow gate allowed from Castleguard to the canyon and found himself and his three month old acolyte standing outside the corridor on a dune which sloped down until it met the flat floor of the Eastern Corridor which formed the northeast mouth of Sapphire Canyon. The corridor itself was warded but not against entry, only against the ingress of called enemies. Felix had, for the time being, been taken off that list but cautionary protocals had placed him just beyond the warded zone which surrounded the entire canyon, underground and both northern corridors east and west. Gremora had never been added to that list. The wards could otherwise be used to expell anyone Wyrvaust or his family named among other things. Woe trespassers because if they tried more than twice to enter the wards they would transformed into either Black Minions, Demon Knights, or Wraith Minions. Memnoch and Nic might eventually be added to those who could command the expell factor end of the wards.

Felix had a single backpack of leather with him. It was not the magic variety to popularly carried in Morendor but just a normal pack with some clothes and a few valuables in it. He was wearing leather pants, a tea-shirt, and a leather vest which concealed a double holster and two firearms, while on a harness around his waist were a pair of elven long swords he had custom ordered at Marco's place years ago. He owned no armour.

Gremora meanwhile had a two bedrolls and his own backpack. It too was non-magical and had all the clothes HE owned in it, which wasn't a lot. He had only been in the world for three months and had arrived there quite naked. Tsetar that had been cast out even years ago could actually meet their destination weeks, months, years or even centuries later, sometimes getting caught in limbo in the fall. Haman did not want them all falling at once. They WANTED to separate them, which was why Cirgoth's job of uniting them had been and still was so hard. He had gathered many thousands now though... He had finally fulfilled his pledge to himself to bring his forsaken brothers together under a single banner. Ironically they were back in the Upper Kingdom, but not Haman, in Aegores. --

From the top of the dune where they stood they could see the large gathering of people below. Their mounts were in several large holding pens. On the east side of the dune was an even larger holding pen where a number of Mumaaqu were kept. Just looking their way caused them to exibit agressive behavior. They faced the dune first, flapped their large ears, swayed and tossed their heads slowly and curled their trunks back to show off their immense pair of curved and corkscrewing tusks. Felix doubted the wood picket raised around them would hold them if they really wanted to get loose. He also imagined they had to belong to royalty, and they did, the Prince of the Blue Horse tribe.

"What now?" Gremora asked.

"Now we find our place in that camp," he announced, and started walking down the hill, Grem passing him a doubtful look then going after him.

The second they stepped foot in the camp they were met by several guards and a mage posted by the gate the Blue Horse tribe had built and manned. The wall around the gate was built of wood and stone and closed off the corridor with a large wooden gate in the center. "State your names and purpose here," one of the guards demanded.

Felix, who was trying to go into hiding, or at least give the impression that he was, didn't plan on giving up his actual name to this guard he didn't know from Adam.

"Lord Wyrvaust is expecting me. Tell him the clan brother he is expecting has arrived."

"Your NAME," the guard insisted.

"Fine," Felix seemed to cave. "I am Joe and this is Tom."

The guard scowled a little but told the mage that watched over the entrance to contact Wyrvaust with the message.

Wyrvaust was in the garden watering his plants when the message was received and likewise extended the report to Nic. "The Raven will meet Nic at the east gate," He added and put down his watering can. Arilwen was inside with Nuni at the moment. Memnoch though was laying back on one of the garden benches, and when Wyrvaust started heading for the Gate, he hopped up and went after him.

"Where yeh goin'?" The winter devil in albino Neffari guise asked him.

"To the corridor," Wyrvaust apprised.

"May I come with?" the author of desire asked him.

"Why not?" Wyrvaust allowed.

Before long he and his new devil tenant who also acted as his public voice stood at the gate. "Allow them entry," Wyrvaust began by ordering, at what time the gate was spared and Felix and his companion were allowed to pass through. Wyrvaust regarded Gremora suspiciously.

"And who is this?" he insisted on knowing.

"And who else will hear us?" Felix wished to know.

Wyrvaust understood his concerns and raised a mobile sphere of silence over them which would move with them as they did. "No one will now," the abyss demon assured and led the way across the encampment towards a cluster of tall palm trees.

"He is my acolyte of three months. I won't abandon him to Mekkor. He is my responsibility. His name is Gremora." Felix told him.

"He is loyal to Snakeson then?" Wyrvaust asked.

"Snakeson?" Gremora asked and Wyrvaust pointed at Felix at what time Gremora answered. "ONLY to him," he made perfectly clear. Not surprising for a clan demon, and that was the problem.

"Very hard is it for a clan demon to break away from its clan... even harder for two." Wyrvaust reminded them.

"But you did it... You know how. Will you help us?"

Wyrvaust shook his head. "We are unsure... We will help hide Snakson and his younger for now. Time will guide us the rest of the way."

"I accept that," Felix said with a smile and threw himself against Wyrvaust in a tight embrace which made the Raven stiffen all over. "Thank you so much, brother. I will never forget this." Wyrvaust looked quite unhappy when Felix kissed his cheek and quite relieved when the younger demon withdrew from his personal space.

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Niculaie would arrive perhaps a bit later, he proceeded to come armed with his trademark revolvers at either hip, truth was he was likely quite safe, but he didn't know many of these people, and if he needed to defend himself, he cound a bullet in the gut quieted most men down. When he arrived, he slowly approached taking note of the complete silence, though their mouths moved. And it stayed so until he entered the dome of silence, where upon he saw a rather shocking spectacle.

"Brother, our brother is not the touchie feely type, lets not make our kin uncomfortable." He looked to Gremora, that was new. "I must have missed the introduction, I do dislike surprises." Felix had not told him he had a.. what.. Acolyte? He also did not know the one who came with Wryvaust. Niculaie had no clue about the difficulties of seperating from clan, what happened to Jules, didn't Mekkor eat her or something? She hadn't been reliable as a demonic sire, good doctor though. Niculaie dressed in dark leather breeches and boots, and a black cotton shirt.
"Although I am a fan of standing around engulfed in a silence thing, perhaps we should go somewhere less.. here?" Nic offered, he really did not think it was appropriate to do this here, hell he wasn't sure what this was exactly, besides maybe a meet and greet. Wryvaust was an enigmatic sort. "Christ im so hungry I could eat someone.. Is that a weird thing to say?" He was trying to lighten the mood a bit, Niculaie, had a special bond with Felix they were truely brothers after being remade as the first reavers, one could not get much closer than that.

"Well, I am glad you made it in one piece my brother, and my brother plus one."

Niculaie would shut his damn mouth, he was talking too much.

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True, Wyrvaust was secretive and a demon of few words in most company, but that's what Memnoch was for. He was working off room and board for an entire wing by granting a few wishes and acting as the Raven's voice. The spot that was less public was the stand of palms Wyrvaust was leading the group to. There was quite a nice tent of carpets with colourful sheets of silk separating it into three rooms there that was roomy enough inside to accomodate five or six people sleeping and a large open front area a dozen people could crowd into, so when just the five of them ducked inside the tent it felt quite open and spacious. The front and back of the tent was open to allow the air inside to be cooled by a breeze and by the shade of the palms. It was probably the fifth nicest spot in the corridor and Wyrvaust had claimed it for Felix and paid some of Prince Jaashiq Aamid Mendaama's workers to raise the tent. They had done an excellent job. The spring which snaked around the edges of the corridor ran by Felix's tent.

"Is this private enough?" Wyrvaust asked, if not it would have to be. Yes, Felix had neighbors. Numerous tribes and caravans were camped in the corridor but he had some space between his tent and the other groups of tents scattered around the grounds. The corridor had become a sort of tent city.

"The tribes here are under the Raven's protection as Felix and Gremora are," Wyrvaust had them know. "Much trouble and unrest stirs in the desert and the tribes must unite if the threats are to be eliminated. Be as one with these people, Snakeson."

Felix nodded. He would do the best he could to be part of the community Wyrvaust had placed him in. Owning the tavern had helped him learn to get along better with people. Felix laughed at Nic's comment about wanting to eat someone.

Wyrvaust meanwhile smirked. "Not so odd coming from Abyss Demons." That was his excuse for being a cannibal and making peace with it. Wyrvaust was due for a meal on two legs himself, but he hunted alone, always hunted alone, whether for humanoids or animals, no exceptions. The predator in himself was his alone and he did not share that side of his nature with anyone BUT his prey.

Wyrvaust then motioned to Memnoch. "Sons of the Snake... This is Gollieth Memnon," He introduced him by his recently assumed alias. "He is tenant of the Raven and Swan and the Raven's voice."

"Otherwise known as Memnoch," the albino devil in albino neffari guise bowed to them as he gave up what the Raven had felt it was not his place to himself.

Wyrvaust smiled a little then locked his eyes on Felix. "Nic will speak to Snakeson of a task ahead of them. Get settled in the meantime. Now drink this..." He handed Felix a cup of what looked and smelled like water. It was actually infused with protective powers the chaosian had preparred ahead of time.

Felix took it without hesitation and drank it down. If Wyrvaust wanted to trick him then he would let him, but he didn't believe it WAS a trick. It could just be water. It was a hot day, and Abyss Demons did not favor hot climates, albeit they could easily lower their temperature by drawing from the Abyss, which is what Memnoch was doing, because he HATED the heat and blinding rays of the sun. "Mmm, delicious water." Felix said and handed the cup back to Wyrvaust, but just as Wyrvaust received the cup his hand began to tremble. "What..." he felt horrible suddenly... but then he felt very strange... He fell back on a wicker bench with a high back made soft with furs.

"It will pass," Wyrvaust assured. "Snakeson just drank many powerful magics. It will destroy all marks but those of the Morning Star, whose marks can never be destroyed... although they can, for awhile, be hidden from him. It will also render all Felix is unseeable and unreachable to all but the Morning Star, the Raven and Nic. It protects Snakeson from many other things as well. What makes him feel dreadful is a power which at once destroys and remakes his will and soul..."

What...? What!!?" Felix was panicking now.

"It is the only way... The single way..." Wyrvaust had no idea that he was the ONLY one who knew HOW to do what he had figured out how to do to himself and was now doing to Felix. What he intended for Nic as well. He was the only person beyond the Morning Star someone could go to if they wanted to remove a sire's marks.

Wyrvaust produced another cup 'of water' and held it out to Nic. "Drink, and Nic also shall be released..." Now by this time Felix felt like he was dying and it showed. The agony he was in was aweful as his soul was summarily destroyed and pieced back together again. Massive amounts of power were pulsing through him and it was all he could do not to sob like a baby having its fingernails pulled. What else those powers were doing to him Wyrvaust only knew. But even as he writhed and wept in agony, Felix trusted that Wyrvaust had his best interest at heart. He suspected he might also be protecting his OWN interests though, and that's what worried Felix the most. His blood shot eyes locked on Nic as the same drink was offered to him. He wasn't sure Nic should drink it... but if he didn't... Wyrvaust would never trust him.

Gremora and Memnoch meanwhile watched all this almost curiously. Wyrvaust had not known Gremora was coming so had not prepared a drink for him, but he planned on doing so now.

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Niculaie found the tent to be quite nice, and would look over the inside as they came to take a seat and have words, yes words they would have. Nic had always tried to keep his demonic hungers hidden from Anna. But, she was not currently in his company, may never be in his company. The demon watched his brother as he was offered a drink, Nic had almost forgot about that.. "Gremora, how do you handle a gun?" He asked curiously, but noted Felix was not enjoying the drink half as much as he had been.

"Felix? Is it spicy or something?" Nic wondered as he seemed to be in distress, now he leaned forward and placed a hand upon his back gently. "Be easy brother," And he looked to the offered glass, and took it up, "Bottoms up." And he swallowed it down quickly. "Thats not so bad." And he spoke way too fucking soon as he felt it, that burning of the marks being burned away from him, Mekkors hold on him suddenly ripped away. "Fuck! That! Burns!" And he then pushed himselg to sit on his haunches. "Christoph, Alexi, mat',day mne sily!" He said, speaking russian now as he tried to resist the pain. Purge the weakness from his body, but it was so great.

Niculaie head bowed and his body shook with pain as he tried to kep back tears of pain, and of joy. Freedom from a monster that would have him betray his beloved people.. The desert was his home.. He almost wanted to scream, beg to be locked away. "Anna, zvezda moya, day mne sily!" He shouted, it was all he could do not to pass out, when his head stopped spinning he was pushing himself up weakly. God damn, it wasn't over!

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Wyrvaust had not 'snuck' the drink in on Felix persay. The Boy Reaver (Felix looked only 16 remember) HAD to know it was no ordinary glass of water the Desert Fox was giving him to drink. He had indeed been pretty damn sure it would do something to him, he just had no idea it would do SO much. Felix was terrified to tell the truth... Terrified that when it was over and his will and soul was all HIS for the first time since he was three years old, that he would GENUINELY want to leave Mekkor... and that Nic would too. Gremora meanwhile barely knew Mekkor so his loyalty actually WAS geniunely and freely given to Felix. They had formed a fast friendship which had led to Felix siring him. He HAD gotten Mekkor's consent. Mekkor was not about to let a fallen Tsetar slip out of their fingertips if he could help it, and Felix had earned the chance to sire a clansman. Gremora was his first ever acolyte. Mekkor HAD marked him though. He wasn't about to relinquish any control over a clan demon. So far though Mekkor had left Felix and Gremora well enough alone. There was more to Gremora than met the eye or senses however.

All soul marks were permanent, even in death they marked the soul... but Wyrvaust had found out that if a soul was destroyed, the mark of souls when laid by their clan and he supposed demons in general was too. This was not true of the Morning Star's marks... Acheron's mark of souls by proxy. To destroy HIS mark, you had to destroy the Morning Star, which was more difficult now that every form he had ever taken were now proxies of his own. To kill the Morning Star you had to kill Eros (not to be confused with Eos who was Acheron and Leviathan combined), Arasgal, Helial, Killian, Maelmorda, Malachai and Morbius.

Wyrvaust was pleased to see Nic take and drink the concoction so readily and smiled as he watched him gulp it down. At least it just tasted like water. It could have tasted foul too. Many of the powers layered in it were necromantic by nature after all. He had removed the foul taste and odors. He did not wait while the two suffered through the effects of the arcane potion. He left them through a shadow gate. Memnoch remained though, as his voice for the moment. "He went to make another draught for Gremora. He'll be back in a while."

Memnoch meanwhile sat down on the low, longish table towards the back of the sitting area as he waited for Wyrvaust and for their affliction to end. Large pillows surrounded the table, meant for sitting on. There were some thick mats and more of the thick, woven pillows stacked against the tent walls for sitting on too, and one more high-backed bench off to the side like the one Felix had collapsed on. Gremora meanwhile explored the tent and the other two rooms in it. The larger space had a huge mattress on the floor covered with fine bedding and pillows. He thought he should move Felix and Nic to it then climb in with them if he was also to take one of those arcanely imbued potions. After that they could all use a nap. There was also a low table on either side of the bed. If Gremora was worried about taking one of the potions he didn't show it.

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Niculaie would after sometime finally feel the potion he had imbibed wearing off, well he supposed it was wearing off.. could be just a calm before more anguish. Or maybe the hard part was over, either way he could go without screaming bloody murder. "So, Memnoch, thats a unique name. Are you like royalty or something?" Nic didn't know shit about this guy, but he was curious.. With everything happening he could only wonder, was he connected to all of this..'No! Do not lapse into paranoia, Nic!'

So nic would just sit right where he had been enduring that painful tonic that was in the guise of water. The demon felt a bit light headed, but he was sure.. well he hoped it wore off.:

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Memnoch knew it would take some time for Wyrvaust to combine his unique powers into another infusion, so after Felix and Nic recovered for the most part, he struck up a conversation with them. "So... a couple of clan brothers trying to escape their sire? Shouldn't you be striking out on your own instead of bringing the kind of trouble what you're trying to do will invite to the Raven and his family? Once he makes all of you... invisible to your clan sire, wouldn't it make sense to go somewhere your maker ISN'T likely to expect you to go? I mean... clan demons, heh, what you are doing is considered the highest treachery. Think Mekkor of all demons will just LET you go?" He made it evident that he knew who Mekkor was and enough about him that he wasn't about to just let Felix and Nic walk. "Alright, I get why... especially where Felix is concerned. He had no choice. He was claimed as a child. But you, Niculaie? You had every choice the whole way. You wanted to be an abyss demon out of Mekkor... You wanted to be an Abyss Reaver. So why commit the ultimate act of treason?" He knew an aweful lot about them. Memnoch knew a lot about everyone through their desires. Want compelled a great deal of what each creature did.

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He watched Memnoch and looked away a moment as he thought of how to explain it to him. "I am caught between my sire and my mentor. Marsol found me wandering the desert, and and brought me back from the brink." H explained, that was of course before he was a reaver, back then Jules was his sire. "It is true I did not fight it, even willingly accepted it." He sighed softly. "I did not know that my maker and my mentor were sworn enemies, and my soul mate is the daughter of my makers nemesis. I cannot be caught between them, Memnoch, and I have chosen my side. Is it your place to judge me, is it your place to decide what I do is wrong?" He laughed under his breath and groaned in echos of pain. "Mekkor has ignored me, and only ever called on me when he wanted to make some demand of me. An absent sire, is not a sire I wish to have in my life." Niculaie said then shrugged, "If Marsol wishes me gone from the desert, he only need ask."

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Memnoch regarded Nic with a steady eye a moment then laughed. "You really don't know what it is you want, do you? You stand at a glass wall, peering back and forth. One moment you want this... the next you want that. Whoever grants you attention you flock to, then when they ignore you, you flitter back to the other again. I am amazed you are alive. I would say you should be thankful Mekkor HAS some use for you. Why should he otherwise keep you alive? Clan Demons are hard to break away from. His mark is broken now. You are free but do you really have a choice? Who am I to judge, you ask? I'm a devil, it's what we do. If you choose Marsol, Mekkor will never rest until you are dead or HIS. Is he not STILL actively seeking to reclaim Wyrvaust. After HOW many years? Over five hundred I am sure. Are you as good at hiding as he is? Have you ANY idea what he did to avoid his clan? If you care about Marsol you wont endanger Wyrvaust by making HIM a part of your plans, whatever they are. When your youngest brother drinks his magical Mekkor cure, you would be wise to take what he has given you and your brothers and go, if you really care about these people. Wyrvaust became a hermit to succeed. He had Marsol true, but he hid in the depths of the desert for most of his life. When did the old clan come after him? When he settled and began to come out of hiding... When he started going where people go. You think going out shooting raiders will keep you hidden from Mekkor?" He scoffed. "Dream the impossible dream."

Memnoch was making Felix very uncomfortable. He finally rolled off the bench and stood. He still felt shaky. "Raiders? Why don't you just leave us alone? We won't do anything to endanger Wyrvaust or his family."

"You already are, by being here." Memnoch insisted.

Felix looked to Nic. They had a thorn in their side and his name was Memnoch. The Boy Reaver looked back to Memnoch. His lips parted to speak but before he could say anything Wyrvaust returned with another cup of infused water for Gremora. The Reaver walked over to meet him halfway and take the cup. He looked to his brothers then drank it dry. He burped and handed the cup back to Wyrvaust. Angelic Abyss Reaver... and he was drinking treason because his older brothers had. Wyrvaust sighed a breath.

"It is done... Felix and Gremora..." He kept saying his name wrong. "...may stay in this camp until Marsol speaks to them and decides otherwise." Whenever that came about. He would probably want to speak to Dantes before anyone else, IF Wyrvaust had not traded him for Anna by then. "Track the raiders as they wish..."

"Memnoch thinks it's a bad idea for us to hunt the raiders? I am assuming that is a task you had in mind for us?" he looked between Nic and Wyrvaust. "I guess it might draw attention to us?" he pointed out.

Wyrvaust canted his head and swapped glances between the demons and devil there. "A logical point... The arms they carry are rare... loud too. Not used in the desert. Use swords, wear desert garb, not the outland clothes I see now, and lay low when not confronting a rabble," He suggested.

Felix then spoke up again. "Memnoch also thinks we should stay away from you... that we would only bring trouble your way. That is not what we want."

Gremora shook his head. "Nope," he chimed in, then burped again and plopped down on one of those big fluffy pillows, holding his stomach. He was one tough reaver. Maybe it was the angel in him.

Wyrvaust looked between them when Nic stated something similair. "Nic has his keep... the camp will be safe for now... the desert will hide the Reavers elsewise..." He wished Marsol was there.. Wyrvaust just wanted to get past all this help everyone needed and go back to his lair and family.

Memnoch had said what he wanted to Nic and his Adram crew. It was for them to hear not for Memnoch to repeat or harp on. He was no harpy after all. Nic and his brothers were seeing a completely different side of the winter devil than Wyrvaust and his family had seen. They he showed his childlike, playful, fun loving face to. He had as many faces as there were people. He was who and what he was to each one of them. He was called the trickster of hell because he could portray so many personalities, when in fact he wasn't trying to trick anyone. Everyone just brought out something different in him. Nic and his brothers brought out the guardian in him.
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Niculaie did not trust this Dantes who played the part of some gallant rescuer, he was above all else, related to a rather decietful demon, though Nic's own maker was Mekkor.. But Niculaie knew well enough men did not do good deeds without a prize in mind. Either they were the origin of Nics misfortune, or they looked to take advantage of the opprotunity.
Niculaie just looked to Memnoch as he sat up, though it pained to do so. "Well, with someone so knowledgable of Mekkor, as you do. We will be well advised in any undertaking we assume. And do not insult me, I have the tools to do my work in silence." Niculaie had suppressors, some brought back from earth, others traded or crafted here in Morashtar. though the ones made here were harder to come by, and had to be tested, after all fire arms were not so widely used. Niculaie had history in paramilitary organizations, and even trained martial skills with Marsol before everythingbecame so crazy. Niculaie had even been doing some work as a hitman on earth, an agent who said to speak for the interests of Haman would give him names, mostly demons and vampires, those dark sorts. A few raiders would not prove terribly hard to defeat. Niculaie would be careful though, last thing he needed was a sword through his chest.
"Attention or not, it has to be dealt with. This is my home and I will not abide by raiders, Marsol wouldn't either. I will not have my son endangered by such foul elements like a raider." Sure his son was safe in here, but being a fathe rmade him a bit more aware of other threats. "If need be I can handle the matter on my own." Of course doing so would take alot longer and ran the risk of failure if he missteped.:

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Memnoch merely smiled at Nic when he said not to insult him. "A person can only insult themselves," he said, and that was all he really had to say. He did not care for what these kin of Mekkor brought with them, and believed Wyrvaust was being overly trusting of them, and it may have seemed that way but the Raven was no fool. He had given a secret away, certainly, perhaps even foolishly soas to keep Mekkor blinded as much from him as them, but he had also insured his 'clan brothers' would be doing no harm in Ametmorgu.

Wyrvaust watched Gremora a little while after he had drank down his cup of soul purging water and when Memnoch gave him a pleading look and mouthed the words 'can we go now?' the abyss demon chortled under his breath and headed for the door. He wanted to get back to his plants as much as Memnoch wanted to get back to his game of poker with Arilwen and Nuni. Arilwen was teaching them the game... well Nuni, Memnoch already knew how to play, but enjoyed Arilwen showing the girl how to play. "The Raven shall leave Halfscale to his brothers. We are sure they have much to discuss," Plots and schemes if they were anything like their sire, the demon thought as he left the tent.

Felix waited for the pair of immortals to leave then locked his eyes on Nic. "Christ, that Memnoch is a pain in the ass, yeah? Glad to see him go."

Gremora laughed and raised that supposedly empty cup of his and waved it around (he had a minor shield over it to keep it from spilling). "Annnnnnd.... whah lah!" he acted like he was doing a lame magic trick. "It's full again, see?" he grinned as he showed it to them. "I was thinking we could give it to the Crow. He could be marked after all. Won't do to take him if he's marked. His dragon pal would only follow his mark to our great lord's lair." He smiled and toyed with the cup and water he had sealed inside of it. "So what now? We go chasing raiders? How does that get us any closer to Crow Boy?" Calling Wyrvaust a crow was his way of getting back at him for calling him Gremora. The Tsetar Reaver wasn't worried about his voice carrying. He had raised his own dome of silence.

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Niculaie wouldn't argue, he just smiled and stayed quiet, nothing good would come of a pissing contest with a devil. And so he turned his attention to Wryvaust and nodded, "Yes, I will explain the situation to them in more depth, so we can formulate a plan that will expose us the least." He would bid his kinsman goodbye.

When they were alone once more, Niculaie just laughed, "Now, now.. Don't be unkind, he is our brother also." Niculaie felt that magical silence wrap around them, and looked to Gremora, being a reaver he knew just where it had originated.. "How.. can you do that?" He demanded as he glanced about, the other trick was a parlor trick, using magic as a reaver was a feat. Could they all learn such a feat? If he could do it, then there was room for evolution, of course.

"Also, Felix, did you bring the tome?" He meant the one Mekkor had given them when he made them what they are, he wondered what little secrets their maker had left. Reavers were a newly born sub-race, even Niculaie and Felix did not know the extent of their power. "We will hold on to the potion for now, I can store it safely in my keep. While you are here you cannot simply pretend you want to help, I need both of you to become part of this place, make this your home. Our task is one that could take years, so I hope you are prepared.":

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Gremora had his own way of accessing the paths of his past, a heritage ring which tapped the paths he had commanded as an angel. The ring both harnessed and channeled those powers as Gremora directed. He had 'found' the ring laying in the grass by a creek he and Felix had visited. The ring had called to him instantly. All Tsetar had heritage weapons. His had come in the form of a ring. Where did they come from? No one really knew. They only had theories usually involving either the devil or god, depending on what side an angel had fallen. He could not access his paths without the ring, being otherwise resistant to them and therefore unable to harness them. But Reavers could use magic items like any other mundane, if a reaver could be called that. Did he share ANY of this information with either Nic or Felix? Nope.

When asked how he did what he did, he laughed and showed him his ring. "The ring is enchanted to do a few things. Shield, Silence, Heal, Gate and Shroud. We Reavers can use magic items you know, though what we are drains them of power after awhile." Normally, but his ring regenerated the power as it was drained. "Means they have a limited number of uses before you have to recharge or reenchant them, depending on what kind of power it has." That was true for most magic items. His was divine though.

Felix was curious about how raider hunting would achieve their goal himself, although he was having a time forcing himself NOT to have second thoughts about quite a few things... What Nic then said made sense. Wait... Years...? "Years, no. We have months. You DO remember who our sire is? He expects results. We have to be smart about this and not dick around." Or... they could run away for real? Felix cursed himself for even THINKING it, erased the idea right out of his mind. Clapped the chalk dust out and smiled at the blank slate in his head. "So... we go right for the leaders of these bands... get some locator scrolls to help us pin them down... Impress Wyrvaust..."

"How about some close calls to speed things up?" Gremora suggested. He like Felix was a thinker.

"What kind of close calls?"

"The kind where our lord or some of his people almost catch us and fuck us up in the process? Gain the sympathy vote." He waggled his brows. Well he fit right in with the clan, didn't he?

Felix got up and went over to where he put his pack down on one of the tables and dug around inside of it. He pulled the tome Nic mentioned from inside and held it out to him. Felix had memorized it, as had Gremora. "You can have it now.." Felix had actually copied it as well. "We have been practicing a lot. Daily." Of course Felix had been practicing a lot longer than Gremora.

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Niculaie felt silly of course when it was explained to him, magical trinkets. Yes they still were able to use such trinkets. "Right, magical baubals. makes sense." He then attempted to get more comfortable. "Do you have an empty wine skin or something? We should put that water into something safer then a glass." Last thing they needed was it to be spilled.

Niculaie though was surprised at Felix, "You think I don't understand that? I want this done just as quickly as you, one misstep though and were dead, all of us. I will have a lot more to be worried about than potentially never seeing my mate again! I also know that Mekkor's expectations ar elimited by the situation he is well informed about. Wryvaust is not stupid." Niculaie would not risk being exposed because Felix wanted this to end quickly.

Gremora fit in nicely indeed, and Niculaie turned his gaze on the young man then with a smile on his lips, "Oh stage some theatrics, so long as its convincing I do not see whay that would not be an amazing idea."

Niculaie turned to look upon the Tome, and followed to where Felix laid it down, and he touched it gently. When they first were made he had read some of it, but most of his mastery of their powers had been through trial and error. Niculaie had used those powers in combat to deady effectiveness, but with the time he could increase the scope of which he used his power, perhaps. "Good, I am glad. I think I finally can control weather or not I want to pass through a ward or if I want to shatter it. The world has never seen anything like us brothers, never." Niculaie reached and placed his right hand on Felix' left shoulder. "Above all else, even our maker, we must protect one another and trust. So just trust in me, I will do what I can quickly as I can, but do not rush me. Also, we may need to see if our maker knows anything of this Memnoch, knowledge is power." Niculaie sat down at the table and began to turn through the pages of the tome.:

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The potion was in a wooden cup, not a glass, and it was well sealed in that shield he had placed around it. "It'll be fine," Gremora promised him. "Look," he then said and smashed it up against the table. Not so much as a chip or crack. "This shield preserves anything it surrounds. Like if we were in it we would remain unchanged. It won't break, it wont spill, and its contents won't change. I mean, what if old Crow put an experation date on it, eh?" he chuckled and stuffed the cup in a pocket within a leather pouch on his belt. "We need it close in case we need to use it." He said as he stowed the cup of 'water'.

Felix had seated himself on that bench again. He heaved a breath when Nic made all his points and he looked up to him when he laid his hand on his shoulder. "I realize Wyrvaust is not a fool but he does make mistakes. He showed us something he never should have... that he can break a mark. How is that even possible? The importance of that is just astounding... I actually feel... I don't even know. I don't feel him in me like I always have anymore... I have never NOT felt him in me. It's like a big hollow place inside of me filled with panic... I feel almost like I am losing my mind. I am having thoughts I never had before... thoughts SO many others have tried to force on me... And I fight it because... no matter what, Mekkor is my sire and I am his. His blood is in me and that hasn't changed. He is still with me... just not IN me." He knew Nic knew what he was talking about though Gremora was still marked because he had not drunk the stuff. Mekkor shrouded his marks so it wasn't a problem.

When Nic suggested they gather some intell on Memnoch from Mekkor Felix nodded. "Already on it," he assured. He hunkered back in his seat and waited as Mekkor filled him in on the guy--gulp. His brows gradually knitted as his listened then his eyes rounded beneath creased brows. A breath then puffed out his cheeks and he locked his eyes on Nic. "He said to avoid him at ALL cost... Evidently he is some kind of legendary wish granting devil who can read anyone by their wants and desires and know almost anything about them. He is like... THE Devil of Desire? Fuuuuuck. You think he knows what we want? With Wyrvaust I mean? Maybe that's why he was so... hostile?" Course if he hhad actually beenn hostile none of them would probably be standing there. "What would someone like that be doing here? Mekkor says he is hugely powerful." Mekkor's word had been omnipotent. He was actually thinking about pulling them out. He had not told Felix that though.

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He took Gremora's word on the potion, and would make no more fuss over that water in the wooden cup. He just leafed through the pages of the tome a moment as he listened to Felix, his eyes raised to lock with that of Felix own, "I understand brother, I feel it too. It is funny, I had at times wished I was free. Even though I accepted Mekkor willingly, some able to recall me and focus me on whatever his need of me is.. Disconcerting. I am not a fan of having other decide my destiny. But the sudden eptiness has me at a loss." Niculaie offered, then just sighed. "Felix, I know you hate that absense, but we were given a task, and no matter the price we will see it to its conclusion." Or until Mekkor pulled them out, although Niculaie did not need to be pulled out, in fact him suddenly leaving to go to Mekkor might be considered strange.
Nic smiled when Felix already had intel on Memnoch, well that was good news right? Not really, it woud seem. Niculaie listened as Felix passed on the intel, it would seem he was some kinda evil devil djinn? Interesting. "There is only one thing that I want, in my heart of hearts. Only one desire that overwhelms all other needs and wants. I will have it, if it kills me." He was of course not talking about completeing his task, this was just a means to an end, he felt that now more than ever as he was free of Mekkor's will. Nic would not say what his desire was aloud, but he wondered if this magical wish monster could free Anna and his son from the fate that loomed over their family.:

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When Nic said there were times when he wished he was free, Felix glanced over at Gremora then sighed. "Me too..." he uttered, then added after a pause. "Yet when freed of him I wish otherwise..." If Memnoch had been there he could have called Felix a big fat liar. Felix had wanted to be free of Mekkor for a very long time, and Arghal had almost helped him achieve that dream, but Felix had come to understand two things about Mekkor... One, you could never escape him unless he was dead, and even then only for a little while, and two Mekkor was lonely... perhaps the lonesomest creature Felix had ever known, so lonely in fact that he would only let a clan member go of his line through death. That however was normal for a clan demon. They were called clan demons and not just demons for a reason. Clan was their focus. In that way they were kind of like vampires, only they were even more fanatical about clan than vampires were. Mekkor would never admit to being lonely though. A part of Felix actually pitied him, and a part of him wanted to BE there for Mekkor, BE everything he needed, because if not him, who else? So was Felix loyal to Mekkor, if only out of fear and a twisted sense of responsibility to him? Or did he truly wish to escape him? Perhaps even he didn't know the answer to that..

"I understand about Anna, Nic. I will stay on task. When have I ever NOT? We'll get her back for you. I am sure there is a way, even if everyone else says there's not. Mekkor believes there could be a way." Of course HIS way might have consequences HE was willing to accept. "And we will bring Wyrvaust back into the fold. That will be a lot easier now that Wyrvaust has not only revealed a way to break Marsol's mark, but even provided the means." He grinned. Felix was aware of their situation, and part of that situation was Nic's attachment to these people, and not just Anna. He didn't mind 'being a part of the desert', he even wanted to be. Felix had always seen that about his brother whose heart was split between clan and friends. Felix believed they could claim Wyrvaust far more readily than Nic was willing to admit, but Felix wasn't going to argue about it. He would play along with the whole thing until opportunity knocked, or they made it knock. "I feel better now... Want Gremora should gate to the city and get us some locator scrolls?"

"I could do that," Gremora said, nodding his head. "Quick as a flash," he chuckled. He was rough around the edges but likeable enough. If Nic agreed, or added anything to the need it list, Gremora would be off to the White City for a little shopping. He had not expected the warded checks he had to go through just to reach the market! Had he known he'd have taken his business to Castleguard... even if it WAS under siege... Speaking of.

"By the way, Nic... I've managed to keep our Inn in one piece. Even managed to safeguard the place from all the fucking dead zones. Mekkor warded the place for us. I had JUST built on to it, added rooms for rent, when all hell broke fucking loose. The city is under major fucking siege. The enemy has managed to get inside the city numerous times before the city mages, including me and Gem, and the castelarn warriors beat them back. You knew about the siege right?" Felix said fuck a lot.

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Niculaie really did feel torn between the two, between his clan and his friends. Just so happened his mentor and father in law, was the nemesis of his maker, which made things that much more difficult. He just smiled at his brother, the encouragment meant the world to him, and Niculaie could not accept anything but that, he would get Anna back, if he had wad through the legions of hell themselves. "Yes, of course I know. I would not have called on you, if I did not trust you to be able to handle yourself, Felix." Gremora, he would give the benefit of the doubt, he seemed a capable.
"Yes, the scrolls will do nicely. I cannot think of anything else we could use off hand.." Niculaie said with a nod, then looked to Gremora, "Thank you, Gremora."

Niculaie arched a brow as Felix brought up the Inn, "Oh yeah? Lucky for me, you did. Between my trip to earth and time here in the desert I have not been the most reliable brother, have I? I should not be surprised by the turn of things here. I let my guard down," Anna did that to him, she peeled away his armour and left him exposed. She was pure, and truely kind. Niculaie then blinked, "Are you talking about all that Army of men stuff? I had heard rumors of it since I returned, I didn't realize it was so serious. Why didn't you call on my aid, brother? My guns hunger to punish those who would see my brother harmed." Niculaie said, drawing his revolver with his right hand and looking down the sights, Nic had always been a quick draw, even without haste his speed was very high, he then laughed softly as he twirled the pistol in his hand, of the likes you would see at a trick gun competition.

"So, Gremora how well trained is he? I am not so confident that these raiders will take us up on our offer. They may need a show of force." Niculaie said with a grin, "So we may need to execute some precise urban warefare to put the fear of god into their hearts." Niculaie said tossing him a wink. Niculaie knew how to fight mortals and immortals alike, he had even been a part of FoG's paramilitary organization, though he had not taken to the politics that they were spouting, he did however like the pay. :

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"Yes, the Army of 'Man'. Whatever. All kinds are in that army. Led by Heldras, they attacked Westguard first. Then Seumir, then Black Camelot, and have moved on Esscha Endor as well. According to intell gathered by Lord Urik, who is Provus of Westguard now, the actual leader of the army, its high commander, whose name I don't know, let's call him HC, was secretly vanquished into Acheron by some kind of ancient arcanum. Meanwhile the remaining leaders under HC fell under the command of Halen Dreward, who moved against kingdoms the true leader CLAIMS he had no intention of attacking. The HC had one of his guys take the nephew of Valis, son of that vampire king Byron, and it was the nephew who reported all of this to Valis from his cell in Acheron. He attests that the HC's last orders damned him really. He told his commanders to build up the Morendor factions in their camps and not to move into position unless 'orders were received' from the high command. The positions he gave included all the cities of Morendor and some other key locations; Castleguard, Morash, Hephrades, Aiberon, Black Camelot, the Wilderland Crossroads, Redmoon Chateau, Serhaubren City, Keystone, Gothtyrdan, Noctmaire, Inaaksu, Zanthuhs, and Sudaer. Dreward could not GET an army into Noctmaire, not yet anyway. Nor has he moved against the Desert Kingdoms or Hadrian's Kingdom yet. So the targets are right, but what HC claims is wrong is what the AoM forces were supposed to DO in those locations, or rather NOT do. He declared that AoM forces were supposed to do nothing unless those cities were attacked by legions out of Acheron OR Haman. Dreward had other ideas though when he hijacked the AoM. Evidentally Dreward KNEW the army was not MEANT to attack immortals, or get whatever all powerful magic item which was supposedly gained at Redmoon by Dreward's forces, but defend those positions IF they WERE attacked. But because the High Commander's orders had not been made clear before he was taken... Dreward took over as High Commander and waged war. Because of one flamboyent wanna be king the country has been thrown into a war that may trigger a world if not planar war. The guy evidently WAS able to get word to his most trusted that Halen was acting independantly and against his orders and that he suspected Dreward arranged for his vaquishment, but can't prove it yet. Either way... Halen has control of the AoM, the country is a mess and Dreward has enough of AoM's leaders convinced that Acheron IS moving against Morendor, that they follow his orders. I imagine those who are loyal to the real HC are in a fix, because they have a gigantic minority voice. Not the first time some high minded asshole gained controlled of someone else's army, but never seen it done to such grandiose extremes." That said Felix felt like a stiff drink and dug a bottle of Brenpraaga out of his pack to take a swig, then offered it to Nic. "I did try to contact you, many times, and got nothin'. I guess after awhile I gave up. I knew you were alive, but that's about it."

Felix laughed at Nic when he twirled his gun in his hand. "Aight there Tex. That's some fancy pistol-hand you got there," he teased. "You could just make them dizzy watchin' all that and tip 'um over like drunk camels." He snickered.

"Gremora is an angel of swords turned reaver," was his answer when Nic asked. "He excells at throwing down with his blades and tearing men apart with his bare hands like they were paper dolls. Consider him a pistol. Just point and shoot and watch how many layers he can punch through. He is plenty clever but I doubt battle tactics are his strong suit. He is more like a canon or rocket launcher you fire." He cackled. "I guess he's what some might call a berserker, but one who can reign himself in instantly. He remembered nothing about his life before his fall, which is common for his race. But his memories came back to him when I sired him. It was hard on him but he is one tough dude."

Felix took another swig off that bottle. He was somewhat of a lush but it had never gotten in the way of his duties.

"Hey Nic... Does it bother you that just about everyone hates Mekkor and wants to kill him? You know he is like super loyal to Sammael, right? And aint Sammael the biggest of all Marsol's Nemeses? Don't get me wrong... I understand you wanting to have friends and all... but I don't wanna see you get killed. You are riding on one HELL of a conflict of interests tidal wave, and its gonna crash into shore sooner or later. I imagine its gonna be cliffs it hits."

He drank some more. "I have seen what happens to people who have betrayed Mekkor before, and who thought they could play him. Nic... I am begging you, man. Choose a side. ONE side. You are messing with people all around who demand loyalty from their people. If you try to have things every which way, you are gonna get torn apart. Please, Nic... "

Felix didn't have a clue what Nic was up to, but he knew Nic well enough to know that he was not done with Marsol. He could not be friend and stepson of Marsol and help plot the kidnapping of his most loyal compadre.

"As for me... I am Mekkor's. You gotta know that by now. I have imagined getting away from him more times than I can count... I even tried it once. I could have kept trying and I might have even succeeded but I remembered what made him. He was once a god... THE god of fertility. He was like this titan son of Eos that belched out life... But when Eos was no more and there was only Acheron, Leviathan and Mekkor... well... long before Auros, the proxy of Acheron was cast down, Mekkor and Acheron were cast into the pit, and only because Levi decided there could BE only ONE God. Acheron and Mekkor had to serve him as the eaters of all that was dark, forsaken, and evil. They had no choice. It was all they HAD to eat. Auros continued on in Haman for many ages before he too felt Levi's wrath. Point is... Mekkor used to be full of life and wonder and wild passion and propogated all he embodied in hundeds of thousands of animals, then he was cast down so low that all hope was wrung from him, all care strangled, until all he could wish for was that all feeling in him was murdered so he could feel no more pain. All he had left was bitter hate, despair and the lust to spite all which Levi held dear... Light, virtue, compassion, beauty, hope, love, and above all... innocence. But what he longed for was companionship, someone... anyone he could trust, truly trust no matter what. I thought I could be that person... Maybe that is who Sammael is to him. Maybe that is why he is so completely loyal to the Desert Wind. I can only guess. I just wish I had that strength... But I like most everyone else has failed him. He has not failed me, Niculaie, whatever anyone thinks, he didn't. Can a crocodile fail a fucking fish by eating it? He aint no fucking sicko human petafile, he is the fallen god of fertility. There aint no comparison there. When he does stoop to unspeakably horrible and despicable shit its because he wants to HURT someone. And he has put up with a LOT of shit from you he would have killed most for. Maybe that chick Jules stuck you with him, but he IS your clan now. If you want to leave him, do it CLEAN, Nic. Don't dick him over, cause he has does NOTHING to you but benefited you. I love you, Nic... Don't make me your enemy, or if I am your enemy, tell me now to my face so I know. And to be clear... If our sire is your enemy, if you are not loyal to him, than I am your enemy." Felix had been wanting to get that off his chest for a long time, but Mekkor had willed him furtively to let Nic betray his true face in the course of time. He knew Felix would confront Nic with how he felt and he had not wanted him to interfere. Now freed of Mekkor's mark and the control over his will, Felix felt he HAD to come clean with Nic and hoped his brother would show him the same courtesy. He had chosen that moment to speak with him because Gremora wasn't there. It was something Felix wanted to keep private.

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###### Gremora Goes Shopping ######
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Gremora was just out to do a little shopping today. He had come from Ametmorgu, the Desert of Fire dragon kingdom of Marsol, and had not expected all the warded road blocks he'd had to pass through just to do some shopping! He had passed through the blocks with no trouble because he neither lied or had any kind of fell agenda for Inaaksu. He really was there to buy a few things. He certainly was impressed with the fair city of the Blackhorn. He had never been there before but his heritage ring was fitted with a gate map that allowed him to choose destination via the map which appeared as a hologram whereever the face of the ring was pointed. His eyes were soaking in the beauty of the city and the palace on the plateau of white marble it had been carved from above it. The palace was the most beautiful he had ever seen. He could barely take his eyes off of it until he almost ran into a guard making his rounds. He apologized for the close call and that is when he saw the gift shop. It was one of those shops that would not let you pass by without going in. And man, the STUFF! He had never seen so many baubles, books, nicknacks, novelties and whatnots in one place, but then... he had never been to an Earth mall either. Gremora was a freshly fallen angel of swords turned abyss reaver of only three months. Battle is where his mind was, always had been. He was a bulldozer with the speed of a swift. When not fighting however he was just as friendly as could be, albeit rough around his edges. He picked up 'The How to Build a Harem' book with the long ass title. He picked up some of that Inaaksuan desert garb including the Inaaksu shorts (bermuda style) and oasis shirts (hawaiian shirts). There was no accounting for Gremora's taste in clothes. Clothing styles were kind of a new concept for him. He had always just worn robes and armour, so he picked a few of those desert robes, they were actually nice, too. The toys... he could have bought them all! But he was traveling light so he only purchased eight of those; a Blackhorn 999 sided dice, a The Battle Of Fizzskull Cliffs Playset, The Inaaksu palace puzzle (a jigsaw puzzle for the experienced puzzler), a Galax Plush stuffed animal, a talking Solbaidian plush doll (loadable with selections of The Blackhorn's finest rants! which Gremora DID purchase), a set of Jacks (made only from the best human knuckles and rubber trees), a Paddle Ball, and a magickal puzzle box with a surprise prize inside! (watch those Solbaidian prizes).

All of the rain gear there baffled him, so he had to ask one of the clerks... "Expecting the entire desert to flood, are you? That happened once in another world I know of... A flood so great came to a desert that people thought the whole world flooded. Silly humans..." Yes, he was speaking of Noah's flood. "Then one story piled on another and next thing you know some farmer with good weather sense saving his animals and family in a boat turned into a guy saving two of every animal in the world. Such nonsense. Humans exaggerate a lot. It's entertaining I guess..." If the clerk was a Neffari and took offense to the human remarks Gremora would just smirk. "Well? Its true." Couldn't deny that. Then... "Holy crap what is that...?" he saw the toilet of doom statuette. He laughed and giggled as he looked over the small one he picked up all the way up to life sized one. "This is hysterical..." His sire Felix would love it. He added that to his cart. Last and what he was actually looking for, he asked if they had any locator scrolls or items of power with the same effect. Yeah, if he could afford to buy something like that he could easily afford all that other stuff he was buying.

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Thanias had been traveling with Cirgoth into the desert of fire, his friend intended to reunite with lord Marsol. Thane was sure it would be a wonderful reunion, but along the way he found that he and Cirgoth got seperated, and with all the warded gateways he had to pass through.. Well He wen't the wrong way, but Thane did not fret. He just continued on, Cirgoth would find him if there was need of it. Thane took it as a sign, he was meant to go this way, and would give his name up without so much as a fuss. If asked his business, he would reply truthfully, he was a traveling healer. Thane only saw glimpses of heaven, he saw war and carnage.. Things that turned him from battle, to healing.

Thane fought as hard as any though, but he was pretty strict in that he would not kill, if he could avoid it, had even healed those he had injured after the fighting was over. The dark haired angel moved through the market slowly, scanning over things.. The scent of food making his mouth water, and he was about to go to what was pretty close to a schwarma stand, before he was hustled into a some store by a very handsy person. "Okay, okay!" He exclaimed and brushed himself off, the angel looked around slowly and laughed, "What a strange place." Thane was browsing the things, mostly silly things.. This place reminded him of spencers back on earth. He just grinned as he was too busy looking to see he was about to slam right into Gremora, Thane tended to get caught up in the moment. The angel turned his gaze to the fellow he slammed into and something just clicked. "I.. am sorry." He felt a sudden rush of memories, they came to quick though for the angel to process. "You remind me of someone I once knew.. forgive me." Then angel just shook his head, wondering what just happened..:

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Gremora had not seen Thane come in, he was busy paying the clerk for all his junk and the locator ring... Sounded like something you would send away for after saving up box tops, and that was no accident. The gift shop had that cheesy quality to it which Gremora ate up like a kid in a candy store. While the clerk bagged the items in oasis printed canvas bags, Gremora dropped a pouch of coins on the counter he had counted out and asked for the ring, which was handed to him with the leather pouch the clerk emptied into her till.

Angels of swords were often though not always like Gremora... like overgrown kids who happened to be explosive warriors. They enjoyed their down time which was surprisingly infrequent. If not in fighting with fallen brethren or Alamascan, they were sent all over the place to fight Haman's battles universe wide. Gremora had found falling depressing as hell at first, but Felix had proven a true friend who had pulled him out of his funk and shown him what clan was for. Being so completed accepted by him and sired by him had been a priviledge as Gremora saw it.

When Thane ran into him, Gremora grumbled and shoved the decoder... err locator ring on his left hand ring finger then grabbed his bags and turned. He was about to shove Thane off when he saw who it was. His eyes immediately lit up and he grabbed the angel Haman had reclaimed through Cirgoth and Aegius and hugged him, the bags smooshing up against Thane's back. "Thane! Devil's knees, I never expected to see you in this of all places! What brings you here brother? How wonderful to see your face again? What happened to you when Haman tossed us out?" He jostled him with great affection as he greeted him and held him out at arms length, bags and all, smiling at him... warrior to healer, demon to angel, a glint of his fangs showing. His fangs tended to protract when he was happy and smiling.... or angry and snarling... "I just came to do a little shopping." He held up all those bags of his. Two in each hand. Each stuffed with... well all the stuff he bought with exception of the ring he placed for safe keeping on his finger. "I can't stay here long... I have friends waiting for me..." When Thane mentioned that he did too, in Sapphire Canyon, and asked Gremora if he knew how to get there from here, Gremora laughed and bumped his shoulder with the knuckles of his hand, the bags swinging to bump against Thane as well. "That is where I am headed." The corridor was a public area so need being secretive about it. "Why don't you come along with me?" he suggested. Thane had never been anything other than a friend to Gremora, so he saw no reason his status as a demon should change anything. "If it doesn't bother you that I am an Abyss Demon." No point calling himself a reaver. No one knew what they even were, outside of clan and a few close friends.

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Niculaie listened, but he could not be bothered to care much for this Army of Man, they were not a huge problem for him and his at the moment. everyone he cared about was here and he would not bother to worry over military manuvers half a world away. He did try to remember the names and such though as Felix spoke his little tale. "Hm, sounds like you and Gremora got in some real battle experience than. I however was sequestered on earth at the time, only recently returned." This of course might interest Felix as earth was very hard to travel to, or atleast had been. "But I am not so rusty, I flexed my reaving muscles on earth as well, though my battles were of a much smaller scale I bet."

Niculaie though was concerned about Gremora's combat style, "Well, thats all well and grand in a large battle, but it is only we three. Pointing him and letting him go postal might not be the best strategy." Niculaie seemed a bit nervous now, "You know I have tactical warfare training. Mama made sure her sons were ready for the real world." Nic's mother was a crusader and the bitch had Moxie. He missed his mother. He was not sure Felix would do well with his mother, she was quite strict.

Niculaie didn't want to hear it, not right now.. But Felix wasn't going to let him go. He sighed softly, "Does it bother me? Do I wish my friends and my family could come together in friendship? Yes. It all bothers me, but, do not make escuses for him, Felix. Mekkor knows what he is and doesnt make excuses, so neither should you. He is what he is, I am what I am. As to my loyalty? I am loyal to you brother, I am loyal to my son, I am loyal to my wife. My will is to save them all." Nic said, sounding like a true Martyr.

The reaver took up the wooden cup and went to the basin cleaning them out, he did want to accidentally have his should remade again.. or something. "I brought some Russian vodka with me, people swear that this Morashtar stuff is better. But, Russian vodka, is best vodka." He said as he looked back at his Felix, "I am sorry, Felix. For not being around more, I know things were tough for you." Niculaie said, opening hte bottle of vodka, and setting the cap down. "From now on, I will be there for you, Felix. Everything is going so wrong, lately."
Niculaie glanced back, "In my satchel, there are some cigars, grab them for me?"

Niculaie would fill the cups with vodka, humming to himself softly as with a deft sleight of hand he added something a little extra to one of the cups, the action was smooth and natural, that same hand reached into his pocket and and dug for a second then pulled out a silver squar of metal and tossed it to Felix, the glass vial deposited into that pocket, hidden behind that action. "Its a zippo, light us up, hm?" Nic picked up those cups and moved to sit back down with Felix, placing a cup befor him then raising his own. "Stoikost." The Nic downed his vodka and slammed his cup down on the table. "So how did you meet Gremora?":

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Felix just sort of nodded to the things Nic said, taking swigs of his Brenpraaga in between, letting him know he was paying attention. Then when he mentioned that it was on earth he had been when he was gone, Felix locked his moss agate eyes on him and shoved that wild mess of shoulder-length black curls away from his face to stare at his clan brother. Mekkor had never mentioned that Nic had gone to earth, and he HAD known, despite the fact that Nic had not INFORMED him. Felix had been French Born so naturally he was quite interested in Nic's little 'trip'. "How...? How did you get there? How did you get back?" He most certainly couldn't have done it himself.

The comments on Gremora made him smirk. "Well he's not stupid. He can follow directions perfectly well. You just have to point and shoot him more carefully." He smiled wryly.

The boy demon thinned his eyes on Nic when he told him not to make excuses for Mekkor. "There is a difference between making excuses for our sire and trying to help you understand him, you ass." He scoffed. Then he listened to him go on about loyalty without once placing Mekkor in the list of who he was loyal to. He stared at him blankly a moment then shrugged his shoulders and sank back on the wicker bench he had parked himself on. "You know... I really wouldn't know how you feel about all of this, Nic. I have been with Mekkor since I was three. He fucking hated humans so much that I was just something for him to take his hate out on. Came a time when I understood that I was just a mouse in a lab. But also came a time that Mekkor's 'experiments' proved me something strong enough for him to... like? Uhher... Want to keep maybe. Anyway, by the time I was fifteen he decided to sire me. I was fifteen when I became an Abyss Demon. I guess he considered me a mouse he respected enough to sire. Born Demons are to us what humans are to ants. It's just the way it is. Some humans see ants as something that deserve to live, others see them as something to tear the legs off of, to smash, to drown, whatever. I understand just fine that Mekkor like all first demons and devils are what they fucking are. But you and me? We were ants who became gods. We see things different." He took another swig of the Brenpraaga he liked better than vodka... smoother and stronger... what wasn't to like? "I likes me some Brenpraaga much better." He smiled.

Felix cut his eyes on Nic when he said he was sorry and stated why. The reaver shook his head and sneered. "Tough for me? What could you have done? Stopped a vampire from breaking my heart? Stopped the lovely citizens of Hawker's Fort from beating the crap out of me while I was passed out drunk? Stopped the tower of mages from trying to rip my sire out of me? Stopped Mekkor from being temporarily executed for crimes a lot of people would have stopped breathing to know the half of? Stopped everyone who took an interest in me from trying to use me as a spy against my own clan even when they had no clue Mekkor had made his return? Know what going through all that shit did to me? Made me closer to Mekkor than I have ever been before. I am grateful to all those fucking assholes for opening my eyes. They ALL fucking tried to use me while pretending to be my friends. I hope Hell claims every last one of them and I get to strap them to a table. Personally, I am glad you were no where in sight when all that shit was happening." He guzzled a good half of what was left of his booze after saying all he had to say about all that.

Felix glanced over at Nic when he asked him to fetch his cigars for him. "You're kidding right? Do I look like my name is rover? Go... fetch it boy..." He whistled like he was whistling to a dog. He was half joking so when Nic looked at him funny he heaved a breath, set his Brenpraaga down on the carpeted floor of the tent, and went over to Nic's satchel to fetch just one cigar. "I am your elder. You should be fetching shit for me, bitch." He leaned over to dig around in his clan mate's satchel. "Nice purse you have here. Got any shoes to go with it? I hate cigars by the way, you know. I'll have one of my own smokes." He snorted when Nic tossed him that lighter. "I KNOW what a zippo is, mate. Maybe you aren't aware of this but I was born in France and lived all over fucking Earth with Mekkor. France, England, US, New Zealand, Ireland, Africa and we even had (have actually) a place a Central America." He dug a box pack of camel filter imports out of his vest pocket after handing Nic one of his cigars. "He is patron demon of a clan of vampires who have havens in London and Costa Rica." He said and lit Nic up then his own smoke. He took a deep drag and looked to the vodka Nic just poured for him. "Satan's balls, Nic, I just got through saying I preferred Brenpraaga. Pushy ass mother fucker." He shoved him. Felix had a tendency to say what he thought unless in the company of strangers. He picked up the drink when Nic toasted in Russian. "Vivas," he cheered in French and drank it dry in one swallow, then traded the cup for his own bottle. "I found him naked in the mountains. I actually saw him fall. It's like watching a meteor land. That's what I thought it was at first. I went to collect what I hoped was a cool rock from space and found Gremora instead. He remembered nothing... I mean nothing. It was like finding a baby that could walk and talk. It was fucking funny as shit watching him respond to shit for the first time, ever. He had never been in the middle kingdom before. That's what the immortals call the part of the universe where the planets are. Middle Kingdom of Planets. When I sired him all of his memories came flooding back to him. He was pretty depressed for about a week, but he is the sort who bounces back quick. He's fought in every rebellion but it never took him beyond the upper kingdom and the corridor between the two kingdoms, whatever the fuck it's called." He paused to yawn.

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Niculaie gathere he was surprised that he had been to earth, and he was not entirely surprised Mekkor did not share the info. The Reaver just smirked as he thought of how to best explain it to his dear brother. "I made a deal with.. The upper kingdom. I was heavens hitman, or earth, killing unsavory types, appearently haman has some claim on earth and part of the deal was I put my talents to their benefit. Did you know we can destry wards?" Nic just laughed with him, and winked at his friend. "Come now, what is all this talk of humans? I wasn't born human either, buddy. I do not talk about it much, but I am a dark templar, by birth." He said with a grin, it was indeed the truth. Though his family was interesting to be sure, not the typical family.

Niculaie just laughed and shook his head as his dear friend begrudgedly drank the vodka, "Yes, yes, but Vodka is from mother russia, I am a patriot. All sons of Russia are." He said and tossed him a wink, then listened as he was told of Gremora's fall, it took him back all of this talk of angels, having angelic blood himself, he could almost relate.. But then again he was never truely and angel, just some offshoot. "Sounds interesting, although a space rock would have been dope as fuck. Like in one of those comic books man, you could have gotten super powers!" Nic said then slid his cup over to Felix, while he lit his cigar, and took a deep hit. "I don't smoke often, but a reunion is worth it. Even if its with my older brother, who is overly conscious of clan structure. That is how it works right, since you are older than me, you are the boss?" He wondered who was considered the lead man on this operation, Nic felt like this was his show to lead though.
"Part of me wants to hunt this devil bitch down, and just flay he alive for the next hundred years, even after she tells me everything she had planned. Something I cannot abide is my family being threatened." Nic did not care how strong she was, he was resourceful, and had yet to meet an immortal who could resist the effects of a particle reactor. Those human made gizmos were just so fucking good. So good. "Dont tell me youre already tired, we still got a fe bottles to go through.":

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Felix arched a dubious brow hearing Nic speak of working with Hamanites. "So from angels to demons, eh?" he cackled. "You really do like pitching for all sides don't you?" His head tipped over as his brother mocked him for talking about humans and making comparisons to the mortals. "Dark Templar? Let's see... Crusader and Sharr Nephalim, right? Crusaders and Nephalim both are half human, so you are half human, and you were mortal, ageless but still mortal. Face it 'buddy', a good part of you 'was' human." He scoffed a chortle. "Moreover... don't dark templars usually work for Hell? Damn, you really DO enjoy playing the B sides." So how did he know so much about Crusaders? Him and Mekkor and some of the Forgotten Temple vampires had hunted enemy crusaders down over the years, specially those tied in with FoG and later with WAVE. The only dark templars they had crossed paths with were on THEIR side, that is, were tied to demons and other Hellions.

"Well..." Felix went on to say more on the subject. "I was born human, though I guess I wasn't human for very long, and I was raised by about the most notorius demon in Acheron. And though you may not have been born pure human, you sure act it, like that whole mother Russia Pavel Chekov thing." Yep, he had watched Star Trek. "Sounds like a human sentiment to me. Hell, if anything, you are probably more human than I ever was, where it counts, Nic." He smirked.

"Don't we already 'have' super powers, bro?" He teased. "More likely I'd have picked up some kind of evil space chiggers hitching a ride on a rock." He snickered.

Felix smiled impishly when Nic asked if he were the boss. "I am only the boss of you if I feel you are crossing a line, bro. When it comes to battle and desert warfare and shit, you are the boss of both me and Gremora." Felix paused to drink more of his Brenpraaga out of the bottle. "It fucking cracks me up that Wyrvaust kept calling him Grem. Think he knew it pissed Gem off?" he laughed and drank some more.

"So who was it took Anna anyway?" He wished to know. "And who is this devil bitch you are talking about?" He quirked a brow at the question of him being tired. "Haven't been getting a lot of sleep lately. But don't worry. My being sleepy won't stop me drinking if we have the TIME for it. But don't you think we should head out soon as Gremora gets back? We shouldn't make ourselves readily available to that albino devil." Mekkor had told them to avoid him.

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Niculaie had worked with FoG, or rather contracted with them, they had recruited mercs who were atleast on human scales, who were well known. And Niculaie as well as his family were known in such circles. Though his family had put them at an arms length, only Nic had been under their banner, however briefly. Niculaie would explain it as his mother had to him, "Mm, no, not exactly. I was born through the union of my mother a crusader and an angel. A Temple Nephalim. Regardless though, there is human blood in there somewhere." Niculaie said with a laugh as he looked to his beloved brother, perhaps the only abyss demon he felt true kinship with. Niculaie had not seen his father sinc ehe was very young, he harldy remembered the man, he remember warmth and love. That warmth was overshadowed with years of anger for being abandoned by his father, for leaving his mother alone.

Niculaie had to laugh at the Chekov jab, "Are demons not loyal to their homeland? Would you not fight to defends the sovereign land of Acheron?" He then smirked and punished Felix in the arm. "I am a mercenary through and through, I have been known to go where the money is best." It was not to say he was heartless, but well ideals didn't feed you. "Heaven or hell, I never tried to get caught up in the war, just went where it was convenient for me. Sometimes neither, sometimes humanity paid better.

He was glad atleast that he would have command on the battle field. "Oh I am almost positive he knew, Wryvaust is sharp. I doubt Mekkor would want him otherwise, unless claiming him is just some powerplay to goad Marsol." He shrugged, "It was pretty funny, though."

The topic of Anna made him clench his jaw, "Ariela, I believe Wryvaust called her, A devil of some sort. She has made me her enemy." He decided to withhold who her parents were, he did not need to be talked out of his course. He would flay that devil alive, be it a week from now or a thousand years, he would punish her. Niculaie spoke no more of it for now, "When he returns, I will be sure that you both are rested. We should be in top form." Niculaie hoped the doses he used were strong enough to put Felix out, they had been intended for a bounty, on a rather large demon he did not intend to fight fairly. The dose he gave was enough to put the larger demon out for atleast an hour, so given Felix size, it might do him in for a while longer. He had to save his brother. "So are you and Gremora.. You know.." He winked at Felix with a grin, Felix liked exotic types after all, or so nic believed, then again who wouldn't love an angel?

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"Oh... I thought you used to be a temple crusader, not a Nephalim. Well damn, man, so we have two angelic bros in the clan now." He grinned. "Yeah, you are like a quarter human, unless your mum was some kind of special crusader, temple or meridian or some shit, then you would be like one eighth human." He snickered. "Well, whatever you and I were, we're reavers now."

He took another pull off his bottle, which was almost empty now. He set the bottle down and got up to go stand at the tent entrance for a moment, looking out at the other people scattered around, clustered in some areas. There were a lot of people there. None of them seemed interested in their tent. He saw a kid nearby too, playing by the creek. Cute girl, she looked Neffari. He often wondered what it would have been like to have a childhood. He would probably never know, probably, because in Hell, anything could and often did happen. He knew plenty of angels and demons who had been reborn as mortal children. It wasn't JUST angels that could happen to. Behemoth had been forced into a mortal rebirth on earth twice. Other demons did it on purpose to blend in and gain a footing on earth. They possessed babies invitero or as they were born.

He turned around and walked back over to the bench were he sat down again beside Nic. "I would fight for Acheron if I had to, but I'd fight to defend my clan's haven and sire because I was wanted to. It took me awhile to finally realize where I really belong. I am an Adram Abyss Demon of Mekkor's line... The blood of Behemoth runs through my body. That is the greatest gift a human could receive. I don't know why it took me so long to understand that." This said without the mark and bond's direct influence, but bonds like Mekkor's didn't just die because mark and bond was destroyed. Still, it was completely possible that was just how Felix truly felt, possible because it WAS what he believed.

"Mekkor does resent Marsol 'adopting' one of his clan members. It's a great sleight after all to take a clan member out from under a demon, much less a clan demon patriarch. Mekkor may BE a second generation Abyss Demon, but he is also pure first demon. Ever heard of Behemoth?"

He stopped at that. Mekkor was basically the human form Behemoth had been forced into that Adramelech sired to keep him diminished compared to what he was capable of becoming if he reclaimed his former power AS Behemoth. In some very ancient circles he was still called Behemoth despite the changes to him.

"But claiming Wyrvaust? That's about clan, brother. If it had been me... I would much rather BE Mekkor's than have him trying to recapture or kill me for centuries on end. To go to the lengths Wyrvaust has? FUCK that."

"Ariela..." Felix echoed... The name sounded familiar... Maybe he had met her? If he had he couldn't remember. (will ask Troy if they could have met when Sam and Mekkor got together) Then again, could have been he met someone else by that name... Sounded like it could be either Mythemyn or Esurian in origin. Either way, he would try and found out more about her if he could. Felix was a firm believer in knowledge was power, but power was greater than knowledge, so when seeking knowledge go to powerful people, heh.

When asked if he and Gremora had hooked up, Felix cackled. "No, man. Take the angel aspect away and he aint my type." Lavoy was HIS type, le'sigh. "Besides, I am pretty damn sure he likes women. I swear he hit on every female servant Mekkor has, not to mention the guests. Yeah, he is quite girl happy." He shrugged, no loss there, he really wasn't his flavor. He liked those 'beautiful' angels, the upper echelon Tsetar and Alamascan. The swords tended to look more... human, rougher... Gremora was a prime example. He was scarred, handsome but ruggedly like so... He was the Marlboro angel without the wrinkles of age. He did love Gremora as his acolyte and friend though. "He is a good friend is all and makes a great acolyte." Vampires called them progeny, demons called them acolytes.

Obviously Felix needed a higher dose unless Nic had planned on talking his target to death, and trusting Nic enough not to conceive of him drugging him, he had turned his back on him and his liquor again when he'd gone briefly to the front of the tent. He did not see him slip the second does into his liquor bottle, which he only now raised to Nic.

"Down the hatch," he cheered and drained the blue bottle of its clear, potent liquid. "Bust open another won't you, Nic?" He smiled, then his smile faded... and the empty bottle slipped from his fingertips... and his eyes rolled back, and he keeled over right across Nic's lap. Blood of Behemoth indeed. Good thing Nic had been able to afford two doses.

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"You want me to say my mother isn't special?" He asked, as if to dare him to infere such a thing, but he would not go into talking about his mother and what she was or wasn't. It was not his place, and it mattered little for Niculaie was a Reaver now.

"Do you not have to now? I doubt Acheron will abide by the Army of Man, misguided or not, the gauntlet sounds like it has been thrown down. What is stopping Acheron from rising up and throwing all its might upon the Army of man?" Dead zones or not, the armies of man could not hope to quell all of Acheron alone, could they? Niculaie was not sure, he was sure that he would not side with this Army of Man though.

Felix seemed so broken sometimes, but Niculaie would make sure he was not broken again. Keeping him away from Mekkor likely was not an option so he didn't bother with such a notion, but he could help to calm him. Keep him centered. Help him find esires that were less incriminating, if what Mekkor said was true, they needed to be extra careful.

"Behemoth? Sounds familiar.. but, I could probably stand for a re-education." Well if it was about reclaiming clan, could it truely be called betrayal? Mekkor had never made him do ill to Marsol. One could still have friends and clan." Niculaie wrestled with this, hoping that he was right, because he did not want to lose Felix or Anna, he loved Marsol.. Mekkor had never done him wrong either. "We will do justice by our clan, trust me."

Niculaie said nothing in regards to the talk of Ariela, he had only one desire in respect to her, retribution. Nic had promised he would not, but denying his need for it was so hard. She had to pay! Niculaie though looked cool as a cucumber though on the outside.

"Don't like em rugged and manly, hm?" He teased and clapped his shoulder, grinning as he listened to him talk about Gremora's love for girls. "Sounds like a good wingman, but I am spoken for, so.." He shrugged, Niculaie was happy with his wife, even if he was banned from seeing her. Niculaie felt guilty, but he had long ago mastered such emotions as guilt and remorse. Which allowed him to give his clan brother another does, a much stronger dose.

As he slumped over in Nic's lap, he would gently stroke his head gently. "It is okay, my brother." He said softly, Niculaie would soon be laying Felix down , a pillow placed under his head and he sighed softly. "What I do now, I do for you, my brother."

Niculaie had gained power since he had last saw Felix, on earth his power had jumped quite a bit. He had learned he could make people bend to his will. Niculaie straddled his brother and placed a hand on either side of his head. He poured his will into his brother, over his mind, will and soul he poured his domination into him. Niculaie needed to be able to control his brother, to keep his impulse to see their masters will done. And so he wrapped Felix' mind, body and soul in his will, binding him in it until it could be wound no tighter.

Niculaie smiled finally and caressed his brother cheek as he impressed upon Felix, "Focus yourself on one thing, brother. Create the best Acolyte clan demons have ever known, this is your mission. Your desire." And he ingrained that into him, burying any desire to please Mekkor, deep down. Niculaie then rolled off his brother, and laid beside him in silence. "Sleep well." He said and then pushed himself to his feet and went back to where they were drinking, and cracked open that bottle of whatever its called. Nicululaie took a deep drink of it, then allowed himself to get lost in thought. Thoughts of Anna, and Gosha.:

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"Jeeeeesus, Nic. You really ARE human in nature if you are gonna play the 'your momma' game." He mocked when Nic put words in his mouth about his mother when he had only been trying to figure out how much of Nic was human. Yep, he seemed plenty human to Felix.

"Do I?" Felix asked when Nic inferred he had to fight for Acheron now. "I was helping to defend Castleguard from AoM, not Acheron. I was defending my own streets and business. My own turf. If war comes to Mekkor's door, whoever it is, I will defend our home there as well. I am as much about clan as Mekkor is. Acheron is the kingdom we are subject to, but if Acheron sent people after my sire, it is my sire I would defend. If Mekkor said I was going to war with Acheron, I would do it. I know who I am loyal to. If Marsol attacked Mekkor, whose side would you join?" He would be willing to bet that Nic would either stay out of it or side with Marsol.
"Speaking of war... you mentioned our ability to bust up wards awhile ago? We can walk through them as well. Gem and I have been experimenting with that, but we never to shatter the wards we tested ourselves against. In doing so we also found out that clan wards and powers hold up just fine against us. I thought you might want to know. I think its because of the blood... Demons and some other immortals like vampires power their commands with blood, thus the loss of stamina, only our blood regenerates whereas vamps have to replenish theirs by feeding. Angels and devils power their commands from other sources... the same sources they harness and channel, the elements, spirit energy and life force. Elves are like that too. Its why angels, devils, and elves have some of the most powerful magic, but blood magic is the next most powerful, and by drawing greater amounts of blood into a command as by sacrifices, can be made a LOT stronger, even strong enough to overpower forces that are usually greater. That's why there are stories of great demons or necromancers who wiped out entire villages or cities to combat an enemy. Problem with that is... that kind of gross abuse of power tends to piss the Morning Star off, heh." As Mr. Toilet of Doom Marcania and Zombie Happy Marcus among many others could attest.

On the Behemoth matter... "Long story short, Mekkor IS Behemoth, the once deity of beasts and procreation who became the demon of sin, lust and gluttony, who became an abyss demon. Most people believe Behemoth and Mekkor are two different beings because Mekkor can't tap in his Behemoth form now. Give it time. Do you even know that your sire is the 2nd Prince of Demons after Sammael?" If he didn't, he knew now.

Well... when the time rolled around that Felix collapsed in Nic's lap, all talk came to a grinding halt. Nic may have believed he had taken command over Felix's will, but his attempt to bind his will to his own failed implicitly, and it was clearly NOT because Felix was fighting him on it, he was unconscience, so how could he resist him? However he did it, Felix DID resist his attempts to mind control him. Completely, though on the bright side, he was unaware that Nic had ever attempted it. Mekkor had protected Felix a long time ago from all manner of mental and spiritual control as a matter of security, and had maintained and strengthened that protection as his powers grew over the years. Felix couldn't be possessed either and that wasn't the end of what he was protected against. That wasn't to say there wasn't a way around it or that Mekkor had protected him from everything, but for the moment, Nic's domination efforts failed him. Being that Felix was knocked out, was there any way for him to sense of know his attempt at dominating him had not taken? Nic might have saved himself a lot of money and two valuable potions by TALKING to Felix about what he had in mind to do, BEFORE he had done something that would surely destroy Felix' trust in him IF he found out about it. Mind spirit and will? They were a wash.

Felix shifted where Nic had laid him out with a soft groan. He wasn't waking just yet but the drugs wouldn't hold him forever. He and Nic alike were quite resilient and resistant to a LOT of things owed to the blood Mekkor had mixed with theirs. As he rolled to the side the celtic knot tattoo on his shoulder was exposed to Nic. It was quite elaborate and pretty. Felix had occult type tattoos all over him.

Didn' think it was gonna be that easy, did ya, Nic?

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"Oh yes, we can bust them up indeed.. I am confused though. I shattered Wryvaust' wards when I first began staying in this part of the desert. If he is of the same blood, how is it that I was able to shatter them?" Niculaie could only wonder, he was not surprised that their own clan would be able to stand up against their power, not surprised at all. With news that Mekkor was perhaps one of the three most powerful beings i Acheron, it really did making resist him a very sketchy idea.

Niculaie had dominated beinds before, he could not feel the 'strings of domination' as he liked to imagine it, he felt nothing. He had failed to dominate his brother Mind, body and spirit. There was another way he could think of, as for the markings he could see on Felix he had little idea what they meant and he was not about to start slicing away at him, the notion did not enter his mind once. There was still the notion of blood though,Niculaie would leave it to that very blood that granted them their power, to be his key to saving his brother. Niculaie knew of this, Mekkor had taught him somethings, and so had the tome. Nic looked down on his brother who he held cradled in his arms. The abyss reaver would pet gently at his brothers head, "I will not waste a drop, my brother." And so the partial shift was taken and razored teeth soon just through his gums and Niculaie lifted his brother and carried him to one of the tables throwing aside the things that covered it, and laying Felix atop it. The demon then bit into his brothers throat, tearing into his juggular with feral need, and drank deeply of him. He sucked that gaping wound in his throat, drinking that life blood eagerly and with abandon. As he drained Felix he pulled him so he hunt off the table letting gravity help with the task until nothing more could be sucked from him. Niculaie then opened his own wrist, and began to force his blood into Felix mouth, and forced him to swallow his blood. Niculaie would continue with the process, feeding his blood to his brother, Niculaie was not experienced though and stopped just shy of two quarts of blood. The results would be.. unexpected. Niculaie pulled Felix back to the bedding and laid him down to sleep gently as he could, watching the wound in his neck, making sure it had healed up before he rolled onto his back, exhausted. But he had to clean up this mess.

Niculaie popped open that new bottle when he wa ssatisfied that he got up all the blood, and then drank deeply of that Morashtar vodka, and heaved a sigh. "I sure could use a fuckin sammich.." Niculaie said and just took another drink, those raiders better hope he got a meal before they set out, or one of them might end up in his belly.:

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On the subject of Wyrvaust's wards Felix had only one theory. "He had to have powered his commands with something other than blood. He used to be a shaman.... maybe it's related to that." He shrugged. It was as good as anyone's guess. "These wards he has now though... I tried to brush them on the way in and got a hell of a jolt. We aren't touching or walking through them. They are Behemoth wards if ever there was such a thing." whatever that meant, he knew what he meant.

Then he was enslaved by his younger brother who looked twice his age... yes, blood did the trick. He had not been protected from physical bondage, or rather he had but that arcanum had faded and grown weak because in strengthening the rest, Mekkor had missed the small rose on his neck which protected him against physical domination. It was so well hidden by his dense mass of curls that it had simply slipped Mekkor's attention and let him forget it. It had enough power in it to absorb weaker blood, and even to weaken Nic's power over him a little, but nowhere near enough to eliminate the blood bond. Indeed it was so corrupted between too little blood and the unstable weakening of their blood mix, that there was no telling just what the results would be. Those consequences could only be observed, however, not felt. The bond felt strong to Nic because it was.

Quite a lot of time had passed by the time Niculaie sat down to drink from a fresh bottle of Felix's Brenpraaga. Indeed as he tipped the bottle back Felix cracked a single eye open on his brother who was... upside down? Err....noooo.... wait. Himself was the one who was topside to a table. His eyes then popped open and he sat up with a start. "What the fuck fuckin' happened?" He hopped off the table, stumbled a little because he felt dizzy as a kitten in a drier (he had done that once), and turned to stare at the table suspiciously, then swiveled to train his narrow green eyes on Nic. "What did you do to me, Niculaie? You drugged me? You fuckin' DRUGGED me?! WHY?!"

It would be really awkward if Gremora walked in on them right then, wouldn't it? Well, that's just what happened. He walked into the tent happy as you please, dropped his four large shopping bags (they were canvas with oasis motif) and the second the bags filled with toys, books, novelties and magical nicknacks hit the floor, he drew his two broadswords, brandishing them like one handed weapons and lunged in between the two to take up a defensive posture over his sire. "Answer him!" He demanded, those quicksilver eyes of his burning on Niculaie. Maybe his timing was the objectivity of chaos at work.

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Niculaie had been drinking of that Brenpraaga when his brother awakened, and in such a sour mood too, Niculaie had not been sure what to expect. The Reaver just looked to his brother when Gremora came all but rushing back in waving his swords around as if he meant to do Nic harm, and perhaps he did intend such. Niculaie just sealed the bottle and stood up and glared at Gremora, "Lower your sword, new blood." Niculaie demanded, his usual playful demeanor all but vanished, Niculaie didn't yet reach for those high velocity revolvers that were essentially his signature weapons, he would rather not draw attention to them if he did not have a need to. "Welcome back to the desert Thane." Niculaie said without turning.

Stepping inside, Thane Cross, looked about the room and he could feel the tension between them all and he sighed softly, the angel who had once fought against his own angelic brothers now abhorred killing. "Greetings, Niculaie Lutrova." Thane evidently had a superb memory when it came to names. "It would seem I have shown up at a poor time."

Nic just nodded, "Very poor time." Nic said as he looked past the acolyte to his brother, "All I did was make sure I could protect you, Felix. I did just that too, I will not apologize for it. You are the only clan I know, and I refuse to lose you. Now call off your tenacious little guard dog so that we might talk like brothers. I may not have been the best clan demon, but we will not resort to drawing swords upon one another!"

Thane had run into Clan demons before and it made him figet a little, Mendorin was a clan demon.. Wasn't he? "Maybe I should come back another time.." Thane said as he backed up a little bit, his anxiety was making him a bit nervous now, his heart pumping rapidly as he could see flashes of the torment Mendorin had exerted upon his flesh back then. The demon had tried to steal his light.. and perhaps for a brief time he had taken some of that from Thane, but with the love of his friends he had recovered, but it was suddenly rushing back.:

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"I will lower my weapon when I know my sire is safe," Gremora wasn't about to back down until he was sure Felix was safe.

"Fuck you, Niculaie! If you wanted to HELP me you could have just ASKED. If your INTENTIONS are trustworthy you wouldn't've needed to drug me! Just fuck you, Nic! FUCK YOU!!" He raged. Yeah, he was pissed, but more than that, he was heart stricken because he felt horribly betrayed. Nic had never seen Felix angry before and was getting a full blown look at the youthful reaver in a fume. "I was a fool for ever thinking I might actually be able to fucking TRUST you!" He grabbed Gremora by one of his sword arms and went to storm out of the tent.

Gremora looked between Nic and his sire as he hurried along after Felix and noticed a burn of tears in the boy reaver's moss agate eyes. When his eyes fell Nic's way he gave him a scathing look for what he had done and the state it had left his sire in. Gremora stopped dead in his tracks as he locked eyes with Nic and in doing so stopped Felix too. Hanging onto Gremora was like holding on to a tank. He was actually far stronger than his sire. "Wait, my lord... I would like to hear every detail of what he DID to supposedly safeguard you..." then to Thane telepathically on a secure path... 'Can you tell me if he lies?' He recalled that Thane commanded abilities unusual for swords... divine precognition, a much higher order power set as taught to him long before the fall by Cirgoth. In days of old; Thanius had been a lie detector for the order of swords. Thane had truth sight, the one thing Nic would rather they avoid altogether. Maybe the priests of chaos taught truth and practiced it for a reason. It could be hard to lie in some circles, Acheron and Haman in particular.

Felix frowned. "No, Gremora. Forget it. We can't trust him or his word. He just proved that." He growled. "Let's go." He resolved with finality and started towards the door again only to stop himself just as he reached it and pivot to lance Nic with his smoldering gaze. "Wait... this is MY tent. YOU get the fuck out, Nic! And STAY the FUCK away from me and my bloodson!" He demanded, pointing violently at the exit.

So had Nic's bondage not taken? Oh it had taken alright, enough so that he felt his clan brother's betrayal that much more deeply. He felt like Nick had cut he heart out... No worse. He would rather feel THAT pain, and he knew exactly how much it hurt.

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Niculaie felt a bit unsettled by the rage of his brother as it was so set upon him. Did he feel bad? Yes. But, it had to be done. Niculaie felt sorrow in his heart and he knew he had to do everything in his power to make things here work, if he did not they all three would.. "This was my task, given to me. When you answered the call you knew that you would have to follow my lead." Niculaie was of course not pleased, "I was placed in command, and the well being of both of you rests on me, the responsibility is mine to bare."

Niculaie would not be cowed by Felix' bloodson, and would not back down. Nic reached into Felix mind as he stood there, h could not speak this part where the angel could hear it. ~"What we are doing here, could cost us everything. If snatching Wryvaust was easy, Mekkor would have done it himself. You need to trust me Felix, if they ever suspect we are spies for Mekkor, you dont want to know what Marsol will do your Acolyte while you watch. I have never wronged you before, and I would not go to these lengths if it was not a necessity."~ He spoke through that secure mind link only he and Felix could hear. Moving closer he would unholdter a pistol and extended the grip toward Felix.

Thane had listened to Gremora's request as he watched the exchange, and nodded in response, focusing his eyes on Niculaie he let his eyes read them, the angelic gift was one to be feared for sure. It had made Thanias very valuble in the old days as well, and if Mekkor or someone else who coveted angels knew of his gift, it might make him a target. ~I see no deception yet brother, but he is being vague.~

Niculaie was not about to spill his guts in front of Thane, he knew where this one was, Cirgoth was likely not far off. Niculaie had to calm his brother, if only he could just reassure him that it was for the best. He was letting his will seep into Felix slowly, flooding him with calm as best he could. "If you cannot trust me, then take my gun and put a bullet in my head, Felix." Nic could feel another part of his soul darkening from this, perhaps one day he would be just the kind of acolyte Mekkor wanted. Wet work always had a way of making a man do things he would never do, and with the stakes as they were, he had no choice.:

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Niculaie clearly underestimated Felix's capacity to act on his rage and severely corrupted emotions. Nostrils flared and cheeks clenched as Nic mind spoke his 'reasons' for doing what he did. Then... when one of his pistols was extended to him, Felix stared down at the weapon for an instant just as that calm hit him to let him respond like a manic killer who found his steel on ice. In a stunningly quick move Felix snatched the offered gun from him and dozed forward, thumb against the safety to either slide it into the firing position or making sure it already was as the press of the gun's cold steel muzzle met his temple and did not hesitate for an instant to pull the trigger.

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Nuni's bare feet sloshed through the shallow water of the creek as she hunted intently for noticible pebbles and stones. There were plenty of people milling about but none that she knew. She barely knew anyone here. From the moment she had shown up, everyone seemed so busy. Most people were nice enough though. She had a small burlap bag and was dressed in only a plain pair of rolled up leggings that were also rolled to the waist because the large size. She wore no shirt, but that was hardly a modesty issue with an eight-year-old Neffari. Her dark hair was loose over her shoulders though, and she knelt in the water as she fished out a moss green colored stone that was almost perfectly smooth. She inspected it before slipping it into her bag.

There was a large tent nearby and she heard men's voices, but didn't pay much attention as she fished through the water for more rocks. She wanted to find some that might look like her dragon eggs. She was close enough to hear one of the men talking about someone named Mekkor. Mekkor. That sounded like a dragon name. She wondered briefly if Mekkor WAS a dragon. Would he mind if she called one of her dragon eggs the same name? She should ask Father Raven. He knew a lot about dragons, just like Memnoch. This Nic person seemed torn between a Sammael and a Mekkor. Was Sammael a dragon too? She didn't like that name so much.

Nuni's dark eyes lifted when Anwarr came wandering down the creek to fetch her. He, however, didn't hear one word coming from the tent. The men were using a dome of silence, which was a smart idea. Then...why could Nuni hear them? "Come on, Dah says to come inside." He glanced down in her bag, then grinned. "You aren't going to throw those at people, are you?" Nuni shrugged, jerking her bag away from his gaze. "Depends. Are you going to keep up your snoopy attitude?" Anwarr laughed, then shoved gently at her head and challenged her to a race on the way back up. They had been called in for a good reason. They were about to be locked in for a few days...

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Thane was too slow to block the hammer from striking the firing pin of what had to be an old fashioned revolver much as semi-automatic guns like Felix carried didn't have the kind of hammer and firing pin a thumb could slip between. Haste could not even be used against Felix in a hundred yard radious around him because of an anti-haste rune in the protection arcanum inked on his left breast. And without haste, Felix was quite a bit faster than Thane. Regardless of Thane's failure to reach Nic in time, when the hammer hit the striker it did so with a dry 'click' instead of a 'bang'. Nic could feel the percussion of the hammer striking through his temple but no bullet accompanied. The cyclinder was empty. Now whether Nic had handed him an empty gun or the wards had vaporized the bullets before one could fire, Felix jumped to the immediate conclusion that Nic had furnished him with an unloaded pistol. Just in case it was a Russian Roulette scenario and only some of the chambers were empty, he rapidly pulled off several more shots before Thane came over and stripped him of the weapon, at what point Felix called Nic a coward and swung at him, only Gremora caught his fist before it made contact.

"Enough, my lord... Calm yourself," he advised in deep, even tones. Now while angels were capable of being stronger and faster than demons, Thane was neither faster or stronger than Felix, perhaps because he had not fully recovered himself (he needs to be leveled up in other words), or because the angel had been concentrating on his powers of healing and protection. Whatever the reason, Felix was generally more physically and even mentally powerful than Thane. Gremora meanwhile was stronger, but no where near as fast as his maker.

In a fit of pure frustration and anger, Felix backhanded Gremora for telling him to calm down, and his acolyte simply glowered at him after the initial bruising blow to his face. Felix met his gaze and held it a moment, then Nic's voice drew his gaze. After Nic had his say Felix heaved a long harsh breath then got up in Nic's face. "You want to know how to NOT to make an enemy of me? How NOT to lose another branch off your fucked family tree? You tell me the fucking truth is how. You TRUST me with whatever is troubling you. You come to me with your burdens and concerns. You don't FORCE me to see things your way. You don't trick, subvert and deceive me! You can lie to anyone in the world, Nic, but you DON'T lie to your clansmen. You don't drug and enslave them unless Mekkor commands it. And DON'T you DARE... don't you fucking DARE try and command me! Gremora... make SURE whatever he did to me to 'twine' my will with his is removed from me. Do whatever you have to. And Nic...? I am not YOURS to claim. I am Mekkor's. You would do WELL to remember that. I also outrank you, you fucking ass!! Don't say another word... I swear to LUCIFER if I hear any more excuses... no... nope. Zzzjjjjt! Zip it mother fucker. Give me a loaded gun that WILL fire and I WILL shoot you again, I swear. Know why? The answer to that should be obvious by now. You crushed my trust in you. This plan of ours? It has all gone to shit. Plans have CHANGED. YOU changed them. If the truth sets us apart, Nic, then we SHALL be set apart. If the truth divides us, then we are MEANT to be divided. ACCEPT that. Better to be divided by the truth than by LIES. Now... I commanded you once already, and I won't repeat myself a third time. LEAVE my fucking tent. And DON'T come fucking back unless I call on you. Are we understood?" Oh yeah, he was pulling rank. "Disobey me and you WILL be punished, and I don't fuck around."

Gremora waited to see if Nic would leave peaceably, and if not? Well Gremora would escort him out and he wouldn't be gentle about it. As far as cleansing Felix of Nic's blood? Gremora would find a purification spell or someone powerful enough to do it.

Gremora locked his eyes with Nic. "Respect his need for time to find his center and reflect. I do not care for this division you have caused, Lord Lutrova, but for all your faults and misteps you are still clan. You have made a serious mistake, and clearly my sire will see you pay for it, but that does not mean you cannot atone for those mistakes and regain the trust you have broken, IF you are sincere in your efforts. If he did not love you, your betrayal of his trust would not have wounded him so deeply." The angelic reaver went on to counsel rather wisely. He didn't really realize that the domination made him feel what he did even MORE deeply, and it had all cut him plenty deep without the help of a corrupted blood enslavement. "Please just go," Gremora encouraged, not wanting Felix to be spurred towards further violence or upset.

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Niculaie was surprised that a bullet had not blasted through his head when that hammer fell, it would appear the wards had some sort of contingent. Niculaie knew well enough that the gun HAD been loaded. It would seem Niculaie was lucky today, or atleast for now. It was hard to say what Felix would do next in some act of rage, Niculaie just watched his brother with that cool gaze of his and listened to just what he had to say. Thane pressed the revolver to Nic's chest, and encouraged him to leave.

Niculaie holstered the gun, and would collect his things, though he left the tome, unsure if it would set Felix off or not to take it and then left. Niculaie would return to his keep to remain there in solitude for a time before he decided what he would do.

Thane though had remained behind in the tent, he felt saddened to see brothers fighting like that. Something that also upset Thane was that he was not fast enough or strong enough to save Niculaie. "I grieve for you, it is not easy to lose a brother. I still mourn the loss of my own brother. Lost to the darkness as he is." Thane had a sound of profound sadness in his voice, for Marcania was indeed lost to them, had been lost for quite some time now. Thane was not sure about Felix, he seemed a bit to eager to kill his own clansman. ~"He did not appear to be lying, so far as I could tell."~ Thane sharing that telepathically, he did not trust Felix, in fact he wondered if he was in trouble now. "I think I should go, perhaps we can meet up again sometime, Gremora."

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When Nic had left, Gremora went over to Thane and patted him on the shoulder. "Thanks, brother." Thane knew he was thanking him for more than just seeing that Nic withdrew peacefully. "I'd like that," he assured with a smile when Thane suggested they catch up some other time and patted his shoulder a few more times. "I am done holding anything against anyone because of what kingdom they serve." He let him know. How many Achonians had he killed simply BECAUSE they served Acheron over the ages as a Sword? He had lost count. Now he WAS one of Acheron's own. If he killed somebody now it would be because he was defending a clan brother, friend, himself, or hell... even someone he liked, against immediate or certain threats.

"Good to meet you, Thane... Sorry the timing was so poor," Felix bid the angel. "Look up our Inn if you are ever in Castleguard. It's the Blackstag Inn." He invited. He tried to be warm but his voice was hollow and solemn underneath.

More than anything Felix needed time to cool down... to let his heightened mayhem of emotions settle. So much had happened in such a short duration... having Mekkor's potent influence pulled from him, his anguish at failing to get Nic to commit to Mekkor, being drugged by his own clansman, being dominated so freshly out of his maker's chains... the treachery of it all... listening to all the excuses Nic had made. The combination of everything had pitched Felix into a murderous rage. And what did he do when Nic had left? He sat... sat for long durations in quiet contemplation. He paced now and again between the places he rested himself... the tabletop, the bench, the mats on the carpet covered floor of level sand. He found his center... the calm there, and in that serenity reflected on so many things... not just what had happened, but thought about how he really felt. Felix knew he was lying to himself, seriously deceiving himself... and he was quite clear on the fact that he did NOT have the courage to 'follow his heart', to 'be true to himself'... He was NOT WILLING to stop living the lie that he lived for so long that it had become its own sort of truth. He might never be ready to laugh at death and tell it to its face to come and get him... He really didn't believe he would ever have the courage to split away from Mekkor... from Sammael. The fact that Mekkor served Sammael wasn't even the issue. Any demon who betrayed their clan ran the risk of answering to Sammael's judgment, and in his absence it was Mekkor the demons had to answer to. Mekkor aka Behemoth was the 2nd Prince of Demons and heir to Sammael's throne. Mekkor was also utterly loyal TO Sammael. He had never once made a play for Sammael's throne. If Felix was sure of anything it was that deserting Mekkor was a death sentence. That was what he had been trying to get across to Nic.

Nic had botched his domination attempt. Felix could even feel how badly it had gone in himself. Just thinking about Nic made him crazy... the things Nic had done... screwing himself by refusing to choose a side, the thought of having to see him tortured, perhaps put to death, it just drove Felix out of his mind... his botched attempt to enslave him even pissed Felix off. If you were gonna DO something you did it right or you just DIDN'T do it!! Grr... Every excuse Nic made went round and round in Felix's mind and it drove him mad because he didn't know if he could BELIEVE a word of it! THAT pissed him off and broke his heart more than anything... Nic had shattered his trust so now he couldn't believe anything that came from him. He asked Gremora at one point if he thought Nic was telling the truth, and Gremora had just shrugged. "Maybe..." was all he could get out of Gremora.

Felix knew for a fact that if Nic had just told him what he intended with the enslavement then Felix probably would have ALLOWED it, even HELPED him... TOLD him how to dominate him properly. Instead he had tried it behind his back and fucked it all to hell. Had Nic just commanded him... instead of trying to SMOOTH talk him. You didn't slick talk slaves. You commanded them to do this, that or the other if you wanted something from them! It was THAT fucking simple. Just thinking about it made Felix smack a palm to his head and start pacing the floor again while guzzling liquor.

Felix had a restless night. He tried to sleep. The tent was extremely comfortable, the night air cool, the night song in the desert soothing... any voices in the camp past midnight were quiet and only added to the tranquil ambience... But Felix could not sleep more than half an hour at a time. He woke at the crack of dawn.

(on the morning after Arilwen's dinner party)

What Felix did not carry on his weapon harness or handsomely tooled belt-pouch was all stowed in a single pack which he shouldered once Gremora was ready to go. He still had all those bags from Inaaksu and Felix had stuffed some of it in his pack. Had he been in a better mood he'd have been more amused by the things Gremora had purchased. Still... the items cheered him a little. Then off they went... Where to? Felix was going to go see about those raiders. Across the level camp they walked, waving at the occasional early bird as they went, but when they reached the incline of the hillside which met the corridor where that picket had been raised, Felix found himself unable to pass through the gate, halted by a wall of force. He tried several times in fact, unsuccessfully. He asked the guards about it and they didn't know anything about it. Worried, Felix retreated but not to his tent, just a little way from the gate to a pretty little area where the creek gathered into lovely but fairly shallow pool inside an outcrop of bedrock. There Felix sat himself down on a rock.

~"Nic... I am unable to leave the camp and the guards claim not to know the reason for it. Do you know what's going on? Or have you tried to leave the canyon by any chance?"~ His mental voice would reach Nic clearly unless he was blocking Felix. Felix did NOT like the feeling he was having... the feeling of being a mouse caught in a live trap. Now even as he talked to Nic he attuned himself to the magical forces surrounding the area... seeking a chink in the armour of Wyrvaust's powerful ward fields. So much power covered over the area... he could almost see them weaving in and out and circulating in a dome around the canyon. Reavers had a sort of magic sight which awakened in them about the time they mastered Arcane Aura.

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Thane looked to Gremora and nodded to his old friend, he was of a like mind, Thane did not write someone off cause of the kingdom they served. And enemy or friend, when the fighting was done, no matter the side you fought for, there was no need to hold a grudge, and Thane would heal his enemies just as quick as he would his allies. Perhaps many would not understand it, but Thane looked at it this way, enemies were just friends who did not understand your point of view. People argued and fought, Thane knew this was the way of things, but to hold a grudge, was stupid, pure and simple. He looked to Felix and nodded.

"Take care of Gremora, his heart is still good. Also, I do want to thank you, Master Felix." He did not mean that in a subserviant way, he was just being polite, Felix appeared to have some amount of rank in his clan. "You have made it clear to me, being able to heal and mend wounds is not enough to protect people. I must be stronger, and faster than those who would do harm." Thane then bowed to Felix, "I bid you farewell, and hope you find peace and forgive your brother, he seemed.. Sincere at the very least. Though I have only met Niculaie once before." The angel then wandered off, to see if he could find Cirgoth, or someone... Thane would make his way deeper into the warded area, where Marsol was, that is where Cirgoth would be, surely.

Niculaie however just left to go back to the Glass keep, as he walked he would eject the cyclinder of his gun, it was empty, it had to be a ward. Felix thought him a coward, and Niculaie had thought himself a dead man. Surely dominating your clan mate was an offense deserving of punishment, but to kill? He soon returned to his keep, he would have to come up with a new plan. Niculaie hung his weapon belt on a rack as he entered his bedroom, and went about undressing.

The young Reaver soon stood under the hot water of his shower, as he brooded over what to do, if wards did save him, it was safe to bet Wryvaust would be curious. Niculaie needed to take the initiative, but it was growing late. He would have to share his fears with Wryvaust, that his brother was not ready to let go of Mekkor yet.

After drying off, and Niculaie would get into a brown cotton robe and went about drafting a message to Wryvaust, it was late so he felt it was inappropriate to wake or disrupt the elder demon.

The message read:

Raven,
I wish to converse in regards to our clansman, Contact me at your earliest convenience.

-Niculaie.

The demon then made his way to the rookery, he kept in his employ a couple ravens, used to courie messages, though telepath usually made such an action nearly pointless, Niculaie would use the archaic messaging technique. He communed telepathically with the bird, though he could not communicate words, he could give the bird an idea of what he wanted, and it was quite trained. "Now fly, deliver my message!" He said as he released it out the open window, and then retired to his bed to sleep. Thoughts of Felix gave way to thoughts of Anna and Gosha, and he clenched his jaw, "Harden your resolve, Niculaie. Your family is relying upon you." He refused to let Gosha go on without his mothers love upon him.

Niculaie was not up long when he was contacted, he was eating his breakfast, very rare only lightly seared steak. Gosha was not far off, already having finished his breakfast, he just smiled to his son. "Gosha, my strong boy, you are getting so big. I got news your mother is well, I am sure her thoughts are with you." He said, but his happy moment was shut down by his.. 'brother'.

He thought about just ignoring him and shutting himself off from Felix, but it was not appropriate he decided, nor was it a very grown up thing to do. ~"It is more likely that whatever ward kept my brains inside my skull, set off some red flags. I am waiting to speak with Wryvaust. He is not easy to trust, so I would prepare myself, if I were you. I will do my best to smooth out the situation."~ Niculaie shared on a select path, ~"For now we wait."~ Niculaie had not yet tried to leave, and likely would not. He was in no rush to go after the raiders, they were not going anywhere. He would wait to see if Wryvaust contacted him, if he did not shortly, Nic would have to be a pest and send a mental knock.

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Felix stared after Thane when he made those comments to him. "You want to be powerful again? Go back to your past. It's what Gremora did," he told the angel. Why would he help an angel become powerful like that? Maybe he liked Thane. Or maybe he just wanted Thane to be able to protect himself from HIS kind.

Wait... That was Nic's response. Felix sighed and kicked a smooth rock into the pool with a splash. He had a bad feeling about the situation. Nothing had gone as it should from the moment he had set foot in the desert. He could tell Nic was pissed and it pissed him off that Nic had the gal to be pissed! It was all could do not to tell Nic to go fuck himself... again. Something then occured to Felix that really irked the hell out of him. He STILL fucking TRUSTED the son of a bitch! He fidgeted where he sat and kicked a second rock into the pool. But WHY? WHY did he trust him? Was it their bond...? Was his will twisting inside of him unknown? Felix almost cried. Tears did well in his eyes but his anger burned them away. No... it wasn't that... He just... trusted him, despite everything. Did that mean his intentions had been pure?

~"Fine... we wait. What other choice do I have?"~ He acknowledged. Then... ~"Nic... I want to forgive you... Please give me a reason to..."~ He found himself saying because his heart compelled him to. ~"And about almost shooting you... I couldn't stop myself... I just... you offered me that gun at the wrong time..."~ What else could he say? It was the truth. However furious he was, he also loved Nic. He wanted it all to be one huge mistake... One they could get past.

Gremora meanwhile was trying to catch a fish with a bug on a bone and a string he made out of plant fibers.

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Thane would take that advise to Cirgoth, if anyone knew how to do that, it was Cirgoth. Thane had only seen glimpses of himself, fighting and killing his brothers. Angel against Angel. Glimpses of him battleing other darker kinds. It was like he woke up at random spots in his life, only seeing small parts of the time line. Then the fall, he would get back those memories, he would reclaim the whole of his divinity. Thane disappeared into the night, he would find a nice cozey place to spend the night and continue his search for Cirgoth after a few hours of rest.

Niculaie finished his breakfast, and then went to and picked up his son carrying him to the couch where he would sit down with his son in his lap, "Lucky for you, there is no TV here. Thats a distraction you won't have." Niculaie knew Anna would not be pleased.. "When you are old enough to hold a weapon, I will teach you, my son." With this threat that loomed, his son would know how to defend himself. Niculaie had decided.

Nic was pissed, he had not expected his brother to pull that trigger, he hardly had the right to say.. But Nic didn't think he would pull that trigger if positions were swapped. Then again, who knows. Niculaie could feel the inner turmoil in his brother, and would open himself to Felix, letting those emotions seep into him. He would have to learn control over this blood domination. ~I can understand anger, you felt betrayed. I know what it is like to have brothers, and sometimes your brother will do something you want to kill him for Felix. Thats one thing we cannot allow our selves to do, kill out own family. No matter the crime. I won't lie, this whole clan business is new to me, I do not truly feel I am a part of it, just as I am not truly a part of the dragon tribe.~ With MEkkor's blood in his veins many distrusted him, though Marsol had always been kind. Anna had only ever shown him love, and kindness, and for that he would never let her go. Never abandon his wife.

~Relax Felix, whatever comes next we will handle.~

Niculaie then became tired of waiting and reached his mind out to Wryvaust.~Raven, might you have the time to speak with me at my keep, or yours if you prefer I come to you? OR I can find you if you are out. There is something I would like to discuss, a rather interesting turn of events.~ Niculaie was sure he could spin this in a way that felt like a win for them, and well it would be. Niculaie had not betrayed anyone yet, and it was not a decision he was taking lightly. The abyss reaver just sighed softly and then leaned over his son, rubbing his stubble against his sons soft skin to elicit a playful laugh as he curled up with his son.

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Now come next morning Wyrvaust woke to crack his eyes open and throw an arm over his face as Nic's voice tried to get through the guards he had built up in his mind. He had expected he might be hearing from either Nic or Felix, but not so damn early. He did not answer him at first but instead spooned his wife, nuzzling against her and getting hard in the process. She had that affect on him... Hell, she could just brush him with her fingers and he had a hardon. Then Nic went trying to knock around in his mind again, and he growled quietly under his breath before he opened his mind to hear him and then lend a reply.

~"What does the Reaver 'want' of the Raven?"~ his surliness came through in his mental tones. Wyrvaust was not a cheerful sort when he was awakened from his slumber near the crack of dawn. He and his wife were late sleepers. Wyrvaust would then listen to anything Nic had to say. If Nic suggested they take their conversation to a more personal level, Wyrvaust would insist mind speak was just fine for the time being.

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Niculaie wa snot dense, he understood the tone, and just smirked to himself, he had no idea what Wryvaust sleeping habits were. ~"I apologize for the early ring, I just wanted to give a heads up. I believe Felix is not yet ready to give up Mekkor. I feel as if he is having second thoughts. I thought breaking the mark would free him of that burden,~" Niculaie said and then sighed softly, "~I think I might have compounded the problem as well, in an attempt to save Felix from himself, I tried to use blood enslavement. I think in the end, it will be for the best. But, it caused a bit of discord between us last night."

Niculaie just took a look down at his son and smiled as he tickled him gently, ~"I just thought you should be aware. I love Felix, but it is hard to say what he will do, with the mark so freshly torn away from him. I doubt you were in danger of trusting him so soon, and after last night.. I am not sure I do either. Abandoning him though, would feel criminal."~ Niculaie was not about to do that, he did want the best for his brother, even if it meant enslaving him.

~"I figure you are more skillful with such things, I would ask your guidence on how to properly wield this bond of blood. Or maybe you have a better solution. I will be with Gosha while you decide, I leave it to your better judgement. I only ask that you give us a chance to save him."~ Nic had a bad feeling, only because Wryvaust had made no indication that he would be sealing them within the wards, yet he had. It felt like some serious foreshadowing. He withdrew fromt he mind link, and would await for Wryvaust to reestablished that mind link between them.

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Thane had not gotten far into the canyon path where it narrowed after leaving the much broader walled in mouth of the west corridor before the ward seal was contacted and his way any further barred. It was like running into a solid but perfectly transparent wall. At least that is how it felt the first time in was contacted. As Felix had found out the hard way, when contacted a second time a rather strong jolt was received, strong enough to deter someone from attempting another pass. If the warning was ignored and a third pass was attempted? The ward seal would knock the intruder back then rapidly drain off enough of their physical stamina and strength to render them helpless and unconscious until their stamina was recovered, but their strength would remain weakened until a healer's services were solicited. Meanwhile; any energies siphoned in this manner would increase the power of the wards. If the wards were attacked on the other hand? Backlash. Two of the counter attacks were potent warnings. A third attempt at disarming the wards ended in obliteration and reincarnation as one of several varieties of minions whose will was utterly under the control of Wyrvaust.

Telepathy witin the ward field still worked, though it was limited and reduced to within the ward parameters. No mental attacks or abilities could be used other than communication, and not beyond the ward field.

Cirgoth was asleep when Thane tried to contact him. He heard and felt nothing as Thane's inner voice bounced off the ward field, despite Cirgoth's mind being open to Thane and all his Aegorien brothers. He never even knew Thane tried to contact him. Wyrvaust was unaware of Thane's presence there, and barely knowing him, he had not selected him for telepathic latitude. (mostly because nothing going on with Cirgoth presently has been settled).

Felix was given that restricted liberty because Wyrvaust was monitoring him as the Reaver suspected. Though Felix could be rash, he was not an idiot. He knew he had made some serious errors when he had spun out of control that could only draw Wyrvaust's gaze on him. That was what happened when control was lost. He still felt on that edge... like he was barely holding himself together, and had felt that way since he had awakened from being enslaved by Nic while drugged. He still fumed within that Nic treated such a horrible betrayal so lightly. Yes, he WANTED to forgive him, but he wasn't sure that he could. Neither Felix or Nic could possibly suspect the half of what Wyrvaust was aware of though. Their little spat was the least of it.

While Thane tried in vain to contact Cirgoth, Felix was seated on a flat rock in a perfectly pretty little location in the northwest corner of the corridor, using martial disciplines to condition his mind for what he was sure to come. Felix was imbedding mental commands in himself, building profound focus and walls around the tower of his will. He wanted to be ready for whatever came... for anything. Though Felix might seem weak to many, he had not survived the beginning years with Mekkor or survived him for so long by being weak. As humans went he had been extremly strong willed. Mekkor would never have sired him if he hadn't impressed him. As for Nic... He was more of a wild card who had fallen into his lap through Jules. Nic he was curious about. He saw potential there, but his faith in Nic was diminishing. The mission he had been given to capture Wyrvaust was his final chance to prove where his loyalties lie.

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Wyrvaust listened to Nic, and when the Reaver had said his peace, the Abyss Demon responded in placid mental tones. ~"Snakeson is a concern to the Raven..."~ He admitted. His voice then hardened. ~"But we shall NOT take part in forcing him to be something he is not. If he is our enemy, a rival, or something else... then we shall contend with his TRUE face. If he is loyal to his sire he shall be RETURNED to his sire. Are we clearly understood, Niculaie Lutrova?"~ The sobering menace in his voice could not be missed for the sheer command of his tones. In that same instant Felix and Gremora were seized by the wards that already had them trapped, and plunged the two and their belongings into the holding cell (18 on the map) in the oldest part of the lair, Prowler's Way. Now Nic would find himself unable to gate outside of the wards, or even within the confines of the canyon, but he could access all of it WITHIN the canyon walls by foot. He could even visit Felix, though he couldn't enter the cell, and he could enter the garden, but he could proceed no further than that. The garden was the only area out of doors he could access presently. Wyrvaust had clearly built up area by area wards. ~"None of the Snakesons shall be leaving until we have sorted out the full truth of the matter, and until Marsol has recovered from his trials to hear our recommendations and as chieftain pass final judgment over all of the snakesons' fates. Either way... the Raven shall see them returned to their despicable maker."~ He informed the earth born Reaver.

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Thane had not expected the run into that solid wall, and frowned as he did so. The angel gently rubbed his nose for a moment as he fixed his gaze ahead and then reached outward slowly to touch the winvisible wall, the sting would be enough to keep him from trying again. He just sighed, and his mental voice was not able to connect with Cirgoth, there was obviously some powerful warding about this place. The angel just backed away a few feet and crossed his arms over his chest as he watched for a moment, looked about for anyone who might know a thing. Did Wryvaust have guardians he could question for further access? If not he would just stare for a bit longer. "Is there a secret word, or something.. Open sesame!" He shouted, but dared not touch again.. Who knows what would happen if he touched it again. "Hello, can anyone hear me!" Thane then snorted in annoyance, and Cirgoth didn'r even leave word his brother Thane was coming, he was willing to bet!

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Niculaie was sitting quietly with his son, as he awaited Wryvaust to respond, little Gosha giggled softly as his father tickled him with his stubble. He was roused out of the loving play with his son by the voice of Wryvaust who made it clear they would not make use of his blood bond. ~"As you say, it was a stupid irrational move on my part."~ Niculaie's tone revealed that he had more than a little apprehension about enslaving his brothers will, but that link would allow him to feel his brothers plight as he was transfered to a holding cell, Nic clenched his jaw as he did his best to filter what he felt coming from Felix. He continued to listen as Wryvaust spoke, and could not help to feel as if he too were under being looked upon with such mistrust. ~"I cant help but to feel that I am also on trial, Wryvaust."~ Niculaie said so because of the manner in which the elder demon spoke, though Niculaie had been seperate from his clan for a long time, he was still a son of Mekkor, a snakeson? ~"If you are going to accuse me, atleast do it openly."~ Niculaie, then stood and carried his son with him, to lay him in his crib, leaving him in the care of his nanny once again. Niculaie kissed his sons forehead and then left to move into his own bedroom. Niculaie was unsure of why they were being accused, they spoke nothing outside that dome of silence, perhaps Memnoch had fed Wryvaust with distrust toward the reavers, it was hard to say.

Nicualie would dress himself then, he was pulling on loose fitted black cotton pants, and a tunic that fit just as loosely, it was sleeveless, Niculaie then pulled on some boots, fastening them. The rever had no reason to arm himself, so he would not. ~"I hadn't heard Marsol had returned, I was not notified."~ Which brought some bit of irritation to Niculaie, esspecially if he knew Memnoch, a stranger had been given access to Marsol.~"I would like to bring Gosha, Marsol would want to see his grandson after so long a time."~ Niculaie then opened a gate of shadow with his ring, back to the tent, he walked inside and quietly made his way to the table he had left the tome upon, he had kept the shadow gate open long enough to grab the tome and return. The Gate fizzled out as he was once more back within his bed chambers, and he laid down the tome on his night stand, and then sat upon his bed. The earthborn reaver just took a deep breath, cosed his eyes to retreat into his memories he shared with Anna, drifting back to Russia, remembering a very happy memory that had made together before they returned here. They should have just stayed, this world was nothing but strife, and pain. People demanding Nic show his loyalty, pulled between his clan and his friends it made the reaver want to scream! The worst part was this cursed fate that now lay over his family like a net, ensnaring them. He would have to become more powerful if was to punish those who would cause his family harm though.

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###### LOG - Marsol and Felix ######
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mike dilly (15:19:24): Niculaie had let their conversation end at that, he had no desire to fight with Wryvaust about Felix, or about how he felt about being put on trial by Wryvaust, he had contacted with intent on telling him why those shots were fired, but he woul dlet the disenfranchised demon do as he pleased. Niculaie returned to his bedroom to get dressed, Niculaie had over time with the allowance and other benefits given to him from Marsol had gathered quite a wardrobe, he donned his garb, it was red and black with gold threat work and embroadery about the robes and such. Niculaie wrapping his head in what he could only remember resembled a shawl? He could never remember the name of these things, so many names. With his barefeet sandled, he would proceed to his son's bedroom where Bella tended to young Gosha. "Leave us, Bella, but do not wander far, I intend to visit my father." Niculaie had always had a close personal relationship to Marsol, had even called him father more than once, the dragon lord had never corrected him.

Niculaie looked down to his son as he decided to tell one of the russian fairytales his mother told him when he was young. "I shall tell you of the death of Koschei, the deathless." And he would so tell his son, of the story of Ivan who married a warrior princess and while she was at war he released Koschei, even though he was warned not to enter the dungeons below. His wife is later taken by the immortal, though Ivan persues him, Koschei eventually kill him, puts him in a barrel and tosses him into the sea. "Ivan though is not without allies my son, the husbands of his sisters, are powerful wizards. Able to become birds of prey at will, they revive him, telling Ivan he will stand no match for for Koschei, unless he goes to Baba Yaga." He said to his son, as he then continued witht he conclusion. "Ivan faces Yaga's trials, and is victorious, he is given a magical steed to aid him, and with the aid of this magical steed he once again battles the evil immortal who menaces women with his magic, and slays him. After which he urns Koschei's body so he can never again be revived. His beloved wife returns to him and they return home to celebrate their victory." He loved that tale, it was a classic good versus evil. He wondered just how many Koschei's were here in Morashtar.. too many to count most likely.

After a while Niculaie decided he would go to Sapphire keep, after all he wanted to know exactly what he COULD do. He gave Bella a mental tap, had her get gosha ready to travel to Sapphire keep, and she made the preperations, from making sure he had the formula and such needed to tend his hunger and other things needed to care for a small child. Niculaie waited until she had Gosha wrapped up tight in blue sheet she had tiet tightly awround her back, he was wrappe dup like a little piece of corn on the cob, his cute face poking through. Niculaie then bid her to come, and he would so lead her out of the castle to make the trek to Sapphirre keep, it wasnt too terribly far.

Niculaie had left unarmed as this plae was quite secure, he had no reason to fear for himself or his son, and the reaver jus glanced back making sure he was not leaving his son's nanny, Bella, behind. Into Snakeshole Bastion and up they would ascend upward and into prowlers way, which was a long corridor on the far west side of the canyon that led to sapphire keep proper, but he could feel he was near his brother, Felix. When they approached he Glanced back to Bella who had Gosha in the Reverse papoose? Well she was wearing it with Gosha pressed to her chest as opposed to her back. "Come, I want Gosha to meet someone." He said and looked to Hiall, "Could I have a moment to speak with my brother?" If he was not allowed to enter, he would just accept it and talk to felix through the door. "Felix, I brought someone I want you to meet.":

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JD at TMK (15:39:27): Wyrvaust had just eaten breakfast with his wife and children and decided to make his rounds... He walked the hallways of the keep daily when time allowed, letting the powers which circulated through the haven flow through his senses. If the slightest flaw in their interweaving matrix was found he would adjust them to close any microscopic gaps or holes he might find, which so far he had not. His wards were as close to flawless as wards came. He had spent six months tirelessly working between the wards and excavation of the canyon interior.

Wyrvaust had only finished one small area of above ground, accessed from a tower by Sapphire Keep. Above Ground was the keep he had given to his brother, and he had stopped with that keep. He wanted only one pathway of access to the sacred oasis perched ontop of the canyon, which was gained by the same tower which accessed Cevari's keep. The only other access to the oasis was the earth shrine of chaos he had kept hidden and used as his arcane chamber for as long as he had been there. The shrine was a great tower whose roof formed both the bottom of one of the crystal clear pools of water in the oasis, and a stairway which rose up from the pool like an island of marble. Wyrvaust had excavated the oldest part of the lair and the shrine when he was still a Neffari human. If there was ever any reason to expand the city more than he already had, whether above ground, ground level, or below ground, he would. He doubted he would ever have any reason to excavate what remained of the city though, a great deal of which was still buried across the canyon in both directions. Sapphire City had once been a great city, greater perhaps than even Inaaksu. The rage Marsol had been in when he buried the city had been built upon by the greed of humans for centuries before he finally snapped and left the city a ruin beneath countless tons of earth, sand and stone. Wyrvaust had no intention of digging out the entire thing, but time for immortals was long and one could never say never. Being a great terromancer he had the ability to uncover the entire city given time and incentive.

Wyrvaust arrived in the fountain chamber and there seated himself on one of the benches as he allowed the power surrounding him to pour over his arcane senses. He was pleased at what he was finding. Even in the presence of all the reavers there was not a single chink in them. He wondered at this to tell the truth. The last time he built his wards he had done so with spirit energy, which was supposed to be harder even than blood based powers to destroy, and yet Nic had done just that, by accident, so he said. Wyrvaust would always have doubts about that. It was just his nature to be suspicious. The present wards were based on blood, spirit and earth elements. Being a chaosian and terromancer he could base powers on earth elements, which he found to be very resistant to abyssal energies because earth did not bend to abyss. It could not be drained, and even if cracked or pulverized the element itself remained intact. Having his clan as a thorn, he had wanted his wards to resist abyssal energies, whether from reavers or abyss demons.

Finding his wards in top condition he stood with a smile and went over to the fountain, where he picked up a dipper, dipped it in and drank deeply of the amazingly pure water. It was among the springs found around Morashtar which had healing and rejuvinating properties. Even when already fit the waters boosted one's health and left them feeling hale, and energized (+5 strength and stamina, +25 health). After drinking he continued on his walk. He thought of Marsol... as he often did, and wondered if he had been cleansed of the dominating influences over him...? He knew better than anyone that even when or if such powers were eliminated, such bonds did not just 'go away'. Wyrvaust still struggled every day with the enslavement he had been broken from. He kept that part of himself as far from Arilwen as he could, but it was a part of him no matter what else happened. He had desires which he kept secret and only to himself... Memnoch knew of them though... Memnoch knew of all desires. He seemed to keep secrets himself though... the secrets of others. For himself he seemed very open.

When Hiall was met by Nic he was seated in a chair by a table. He put down a book he was reading and stood. "I was told to expect you," the elf said. For a black minion he certainly didn't LOOK black. He had hair the color of a golden sun and eyes the color of sand dunes. His smile when he greeted Nic was quite bright and disarming coming from a beautiful elven male of the sun. He bowed a little to Nic in fact, out of respect. "I am Hiall by the way," he said as he walked east down the hall towards the large chamber Felix and his acolyte Gremora were being held in. "Just call me Hall if you wish, though. Everyone else around here does." So why was this fair elf called a black minion? Because his soul was utterly eclipsed by Wyrvaust's will and his blood was mixed with his master's as well. He was not unlike a demon slave but everything he was was tied to Wyrvaust, mind, spirit and body. At the same time he was also strengthened and empowered by Wyrvaust's blood and even his will. He was a demon he just had limited and more specialized powers passed onto him. Hiall unlocked the cells and motioned for Nic to enter, then would lock the chamber door behind when the reaver entered. The key, which could not be reproduced, allowed the wards over the door to be breeched but sealed them again when the door was locked.

As Hiall walked away Felix climbed out of the bed he was lying in. Gremora meanwhile was playing with one of the games he had purchased in Inaaksu. A Solbadian Chaos-Cube, a darkly colored rubix cube in otherwords. Byron and Maelmorda had passed on a lot of ideas to Saeed, ice-cream, jacks and paddle ball just a few among them. Leave it to Saeed to profit from silly ideas that came from worlds away. Felix folded his arms across his chest as Nic came into the chamber. They hadn't been there long, only a matter of hours. It was the afternoon after Arilwen's dinner party for Marsol. Felix had been grabbed by the wards early in the morning.

"Hey, Nic. You're the first one we have seen since we came here, except for ol' Hal there." He tipped his head towards Hiall as he ambled back to his chair. "He is the only other one we've seen since being captured into this chamber." He repeated himself because he thought it might be significant, like maybe Wyrvaust wanted them to talk. He was sure they were being watched. Wards often had 'eyes'.

Wyrvaust was on his way to see Felix actually. He had not heard from Marsol yet. He wanted to give his chief some space, feel him out... see how he really was by letting him have his freedom within the confines of the wardseal area. Wyrvaust had locked them all in... himself and his own family included. He realized there were SOME dangers in doing what he was, but because he was sure it was the right and only thing to do, he was doing it, and had his wife and family's full support. And Wyrvaust's wards did have 'his' eyes at will, but only really if the wards alarmed him to something going on he should know about. He did not use them to spy on anyone. Not even his prisoners. He had better things to do. Besides, he had Hiall to report back to him. And Grym was watching over Dantes. Wyrvaust was just leaving the fountain chamber and heading for the long stairs which would deliver him upward to Prowler's Way and the chamber Felix and Gremora were being held in. He sensed Nic there as well now. He would have called Nic there anyway.

Then the boy reaver's eyes settled on Gosha as he was introduced. Lips pursed. "So... this is your kid, huh? Heh... cute." He was not exactly kid savvey... in fact, he avoided children. Felix was sure of one thing. He would NEVER have children. Mekkor had poisoned his mind against them, more like poisoned his mind to being around them. "Uh... Nic... why did you bring your kid here?" he was curious to know. The most evil think about Mekkor was the fact that he hated humans SO deeply that he saw their children as nothing other than meat and play things. Sure, Gosha was not human, but he LOOKED human. Then because he tried telepathy and failed, he whispered to him. "I think you should know... You should never bring kids around anyone closely connected to Mekkor. It's just... just a bad idea. Mekkor... Lilith... they are like kid eaters and haters..." He did not get into the details of what the 'hate' part entailed, but demon of sin and lust? He'd let him put it together for himself. Felix had been one of those children who had actually SURVIVED long enough that Mekkor kept him a toy, and over time ended up slave sired, and then actually sired. #

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mike dilly (16:27:12): Niculaie had never met Hiall, maybe he had seen him, but Niculaie was not super social. Hell he had hardly ever talked to Wryvaust before recent events really, he had always kept in the tower with Anna, before they left for earth. Upon their return, everything had gone bad. Niculaie bowed back to Hiall, but to a slighter degree, "Hiall, is it? Sounds like Niall.. I think I met a Niall once. Anyways, it is a pleasure to meet you. Maybe we can play cards sometimes, I have few friends around here." Nic had no clue he was a black minion or whateven that was, so it did not occur to him that he might not have a will of his own.

Niculaie turned waved Bella, his own demonic slave, who very much had her own personality, but had only ever been pleasant with Nic. He smiled and proceeded into the Cell with his son and Nanny close behind. He looked upon Felix, he looked well atleast. "Felix," And he glanced to the youngest of the reavers, but likely the eldest of the three, "Gremora. Sorry I took so long to come, I was spending time with my son, thinking." And he turned to Bella, who Felix likely recognized, and took his son from her, and turned to Felix. "I want you to meet Gosha, my son. I am not sure you ever got to meet Anna, you would like her she is the kindest woman I have ever known." He said, but he knew Felix had other questions, he moved closer with his son in his arms. What Felix said did draw concern for the reaver, if he disappointed Mekkor, he was sure his son would pay the price. "I trust you, Felix, I cannot believe you would ever bring harm to my son. Not even death would stop me from feasting on the heart and soul of anyone who harmed even a single hair on my son's head. I had intentions of taking him to Sapphire keep actually, there are other children there." Niculaie then broached the subject of Felix imprisonment."I believe our fighting caught the attention of the wards, which is why we stand here now. The gun was very loaded, Felix."

He turned his gaze down to his son, "A son of russia and the desert, his life will not be easy. But, my son will be strong. True." Niculaie would not have his son be like him, he had thought of asking Marsol to sire him when he comes of age, otherwise it might be likely that Mekkor could claim him. He did not want his son to be a part of the Abyss.. And humans were never safe in this world. "Have you two eaten? I could ask Hiall if they could bring something for you both to eat."

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Justice (17:20:14): After the removal and purification process that evening wound down to being a quieter one. Dinner went without incident, minus little Nuni's mentioning of Mekkor and Sammael, and gave him the opportunity to focus on his sons, on his family, on his clan. Having his sons under his arms was enough to distract him from his inner turmoil for the time being. Add to that he ate dinner at a table surrounded by his family and loved ones it was a small soothing salve to the raw wound he still carried inside for his feelings and his "feelings" having been tangled up, torn from him, and made hazey all at the same time. He was reserved during dinner, distant somewhat from Cirgoth, but not when it came to his twin boys. Marsol caught up with them as if he had never left them, as he always had and would. After dinner he did retire to the chambers Wyrvaust kept for him when he did visit and stay awhile in his gorgeous lair of a home. Now the sleeping arrangements were as such that everyone ended up sleeping in his bed in a sort of squashed pile under a sheet. They needed no blankets since Marsol was a walking furnace he kept the three of them comfortably toasty under that sheet without sweating to their auburn haired heads off. Though the boys fell asleep between their parents sprawled as children often did, Marsol folded his arm under Cirgoth's pillow and rested his fingers near the back of the angels head to keep physical contact with him. Why though? Why not just hug him and hold him close as he use to? Baby steps. It was a huge step to just want physical contact for him. Their conversation before he watched Cirgoth's eyelids droop consisted mostly of their boys and how when he did bring Anna home he would have her go do the "big sister" part for Amaru and Ardwyr not because the Namas could protect them from physical or arcane combat, but because he knew such a task would be uplifting to Anna, make her feel needed by them and give her a chance to bond with the twins. The next morning he woke to barely open his left eye to see the bottom of Ardwyr's foot. Flaring his nostrils a little he tickled that foot and disturbed the youth in his sleep. He felt Amaru's legs over his chest since he choose to sleep sideways with his head on Cirgoth curled up snug as a bug in a rug.

How were they going to get out of bed when everyone was all over the bed? Moving his face upwards he saw over Ardwyr's toes, still flaring his nostrils to tickle his toes mind you, to see half of Cirgoth's face covered by his hair with Amaru's head tucked under his chin. Dare he wake any of them? No however he did have business to take care of today and could not stay in bed like a bum. It'd be disgustingly comfortable though. Carefully he started to slide himself away from his mate and sons to his side of the bed where he had to steathily not disturb them too much. Dressing in all white from his trousers to his sleeveless vest he strode from the bed chamber after laying kisses to each of his sons foreheads and whispering a faint blessing in the language of his tribe. For Cirgoth he kissed both his brows and whispered something else against his forehead before kissing that too then left the chamber, shutting the door after himself. What did he say? It would be for him to know and Cirgoth to find out, if he heard it at all even. Marsol paid a visit to Anwaar II and to this spunky Nuni as well as Memnoch. Though he was wry of these offers Memnoch extended he didn't sense or perceive any malicious intent from the winter devil. Then again devils were the masters of deception weren't they? Then he crouched in front of the new addition to Raven's clutch to ask her if she knew how to build a bookshelf. Before she could answer he brought his hands from behind his back as they appeared to burst into bright orange flames which he held at his sides burning warmly. "Do not be afraid, these are kind flames to you and I, they are not of the same fire that burns in the wood stove Lady Arilwen prepares her delicious food over." As he told Nuni this he watched her react and waited patiently for her to scurry back to him because the sudden bursting of flames scared her to her bed. The red draconian smiled as she slowly came to kneel in front of him and extended her hand hesitantly towards his left hand as flames roiled all over it. He nodded reassuringly to her and when she did touch her little fingers to his bigger palm she would only feel the warmth of a tamed fire critter he brought back with him from the Plane of Fire. Those flames seperated to show his palm as if scared by Nuni's little fingers. Was it a game of tag then? Nuni touched near his index finger and the flames grew shy then inched forward again to warm her fingers. "Blow it out as you would a candle, little Meerkat," he told her. Nuni couldn't form the words to speak because she was so tickled by the prospect of being able to touch magic and that it was a dragon showing her. When she did take a big huff to blow out the fire in his hand she would be reward by the flames disappearing in a whoosh and three leather bound books stacked neatly appearing in his hand instead. Oh but wait there's more is the look Marsol gave the excited girl. Making a nod towards his other hand, he waited for her to blow out that "candle" too and reveal the small stack of books pertaining to dragon eggs and much more that the little flames had been hiding all along. Handing over both stacks of books to her he clapped his hands as if getting rid of invisible soot from them. "Should you ever doubt a word scrawled in these pages, do not doubt yourself little Meerkat." From there he wandered his way to find Arilwen to bid her good morning and to apologize for having brought more calamity into her home, that it was not his intention to be a burden to her, and that he would have to know in the future how she made her meals to be so damn good. He hugged her close and thanked her. But for what? Arilwen would know. Then he wandered some more to find her unusual husband and to get down to business. Perhaps even the bloody kind.[fin]

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JD at TMK (17:44:27): Hiall was a recent addition to Wyrvaust's tribe. He had been a hunter and ended up hunted by a demon while trespassing on Wyrvaust's turf. Hiall had just happened to run into a demon way over his ability scale. It had not been Wyrvaust he was hunting, but Ardwyr, who had killed an elf who stuck with an arrow. The elf hired to hunt Ardwyr had received reports that the 'demon' described had been sighted near Sapphire Canyon. The elf had no idea he was hunting a son of Marsol Anwarr. In any case, he was Wyrvaust's now. Wyrvaust had collected quite a few guards in this way... either turning an enemy, or food prey. Either way, all of his black minions save Morgrym had been trespassers.

Hiall smiled at Nic when he suggested they play cards some time. "Would love that." He assured. He was still himself for the 'most part'. He just lacked everything Wyrvaust wanted him to lack. Wyrvaust could also bestow personality traits, but he never did. Black minions were sort of like zombie demons with partial souls. Their souls had been eaten and what was left spit back into them. They were utterly and irrevocably loyal was the thing.

"I wouldn't hurt'im," he assured Nic about Gosha, then locked his eyes on his brother. Unless Mekkor told him to, he thought, and hoped Nic sensed it somehow, being he had enslaved him and that had yet to be broken.

Gremora was going to see if he could find a powerful purification scroll to cleanse him of the domination but they had been seized before he'd had the chance. Unless marked... Domination was not all THAT hard to eliminate. Power against power is what it took. It would have cost Felix a bundle either way. Marks changed the game completely. The ONLY reason Wyrvaust and Cirgoth had stood a chance at destroying Marsol's domination is because those doing the dominating had not marked him. Marsol was marked by Mael, twice over in fact. Cirgoth planned on studying that artifact they had fought with Marsol to remove from him.

"Oh..." Felix said about the gun being loaded. "Well I thought it was... Why shoot you if you wasn't? I just though after... well, nevermind. What you did really hurt me, Nic. I thought we had something... had actual trust. Now...?" He shook his head. "That's all gone. It fucking sucks." He heaved a breath. "I don't want to talk about it anymore..."

He shook his head at all the mother Russia stuff. "You SURE you and Chekov aren't brothers? Let me give you a bad beatles hair cut. Please...?" he grinned and snickered. He glanced at the kid again. Nic had asked if he was hungry... "Famished..." he said, then looked away from Gosha. He felt suddenly depressed. He was feeling emotions SO shit-god-damned deeply since Nic had enslaved him in a corrupted process. He went over and plopped down on his twin sized bed. There were three beds in the cell. It was clearly for holding at least that many prisoners in one chamber. "Look, Nic, a bed for you," he pointed. He was joking but he also wondered about it.

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Cirgoth had been immensely relieved when Marsol had allowed him to share his bed with him, even if the twins were a part of that equation. Much as he had missed their sons as well, Cirgoth was happy to be part of the 'pile up'. The slightest contact from Marsol gave him hope, and he returned those small but to him monumentous gestures with soft kisses or brushes of his fingertips of his own. Cirgoth understood that not only had Marsol been through a great deal, but that he had left Marsol for a long time to pursue his mission. It had been a lengthy quest and one he had finally succeeded at. Now he COULD give himself completely to Marsol. Thane had come with him but the gate had sent Thane off elsewhere. Cirgoth had checked on him before getting sealed in Sapphire Canyon with the others and found him safe. He had lost telepathic communication with anyone outside the wardseal area.

Cirgoth's eyes cracked open just in time to see Marsol tickle Ardwyr. He laughed as he almost got kicked in the face. He caught their elder twin's leg and settled it gently into a better place, that being where his foot was not in Marsol's face. Cirgoth's lithe fingers came to brush through Marsol's chocolate colored locks. "I love the red highlights that run through your hair," he mentioned. "It's like a little bit of the dragon peeking through." He smiled at the thought of it. "Wyrvaust mentioned some massively huge keep he uncovered for you... I wonder what it's like. An entire colliseum? We could teach the twins how to break dragon in there, huh?" he imagined with a smile. He wasn't going to press Marsol about what happened to him. He and Wyrvaust had agreed it was best to let Marsol choose when he was ready to talk about things. Wyrvaust though never really had been. He tended to bury things. Cirgoth like Arilwen would never allow Marsol to bury it... He needed to face it. If not now, then later, when he was ready.

His eyes were closed again by the time Marsol slipped out of the bed. They'd had a late night. That and he wanted Marsol to go about his day without his angel hovering over him. He would catch up with him a little while. For now, Cirgoth was happy to spend more time with their twin sons who had grown into young men far too quickly. They and young Anwarr were the best of friends and he was glad they had Arilwen's family to fall back on when he and Marsol were... otherwise occupied. Cirgoth hoped it would be a LONG time before anything divided them again.

Wyrvaust had just reached the top of that long but gradual climbing tunnel of stairs when Marsol caught up to him. He smiled at the dragon as he came jogging up the stairs behind him. It was a good workout to be sure. The stairs leveled the two ground floors with each other where the west side of the canyon floor was higher than the east side. The Raven patted Marsol's shoulder as they met. "Good morning, my Lord. The Raven was just on his way to speak with the snakeson name of Felix, elder clan brother of Nic, and his younger older acolyte the angel he made reaver, name of Gremora." He apprised. "It was Felix Nuni overheard saying many things she could not interpret well, but which the Raven understood QUITE well. Halfscale... Nic, is with him. He believes his chieftain is interested in speaking to the snakesons as well, no doubt." He was sure of that.

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mike dilly (18:08:37): Well it was a good thing, it would be boring playing cards with a shell of an elf, demon thingie. Niculaie just cradled his son, supporting his head as he was a responsible father and knew well enough how to hold a young child. Niculaie believed Felix, but the underlying message did not go unheard. Though he regretted what he did to Felix, for the betrayal that it was, he could not help but think he would miss having such a deep connection with his brother. "I should hope not, and uncle ought to protect his nephew." He said, trying to keep the mood from getting too dour.

Niculaie would eventuall hand off his son to Bellana, and thanked her for all her help with his son. He needed to break this curse of fate or whatever it was that was coming between his family. There had to be a loop hole somewhere, a better one than they currently were 'enjoying'. "Be good, my son." Niculaie had kissed his beloved son upon his forehead, and then turned back to Felix and came over, "Mind if I sit?" If he did not Niculaie would sit beside him, and nodded. "Yeah its a real fine mess I created, huh? I don't think I was ever accused of being a genius.. But yes, lets not speak of it."

Niculaie looking at the third bed, laughed.. "I am sure I am a step away from such a fate or worse, I think Marsol is angry I married his daughter on earth. We planned on having another ceremony here, but looks like that will not be happening." The depression was contagious it seems, He pushed himself to his feed and made for the door, pressing his face to the portion of the door that had been carved out and placed with metal bars, Niculaie would speak. "Hiall, what would it take for my brother and his acolyte to be given a meal of some sort?" He asked respectfully, Niculaie had no idea what he would say, but it was worth a shot.:

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Justice (18:42:29): He nodded in respect and clasped a hand to Wyrvaust's shoulder to squeeze in return. "It is a good morning old friend," he says. As they walked he listened to what all Wyrvaust told him and considered the implications of this not so chance encounter. Now of all times? His jaw set at having more of Mekkor's ilk in his territory. For Nic he was giving the benifit of the doubt and pointed the young reaver in right direction to set his life back on track, and to get out from under Mekkor's shadow. He had taken Nic into his home, allowed him to court his daughter, even have a child unbeknowst to him and get married on Earth instead of in the desert as per custom and STILL Nic tried his patience by bringing more of his clan here. To what end? What purpose? "Indeed," he said, his jaw clenching already. A tell tale sign his mood just shifted from easy to a burning calm. "Has anyone else attempted to come here searching for them?"[fin]

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JD at TMK (19:07:39): Felix moved over a little when Nic asked if he could sit. He waved to Gosha when the nanny person took him, just because... he was his uncle, right? His eyes followed the kid a moment then he looked to the walls of the chamber. All stone except for the heavy wooden door with the bars in the window. It was nice and dry and cool in there though, roomy too, comfortable really, only Felix hated small spaces, but he was also accustomed to them. Hated being confined but could deal with it because what other choice did he have?

Felix stared speaking very quietly to Nic. "They are gonna kill me, aren't they? I royally fucked up and they probably know about shit by now that we have no fucking clue about. I did my homework about the Raven. If he can't find out the truth himself he knows people who can... He is tight with fucking Ronwe... RONWE, and if you don't know who he is... well. And he is in with Memnoch now... Mekkor said he knows all desires... ALL of um, so that means he knows why I am here... So I am a dead man." He was trying to come to terms with his life being over.

Felix had good instincts of his own but he also tended to see the worst happening. He was talking quietly, leaning in close to Nic. His eyes then locked on his brother. "Should I just tell them the truth?" he whispered so quietly he could barely be heard.

He had no idea that Memnoch had shared nothing of what he knew. No one had even asked him. And that Wyrvaust only asked Ronwe of his sight in the most important of matters. Ronwe was not someone you rushed to with every concern or threat. He rarely even gave out information unless it was wise for it to be known, or even more rarely was meant to be known, and knowing the difference was a trick few BUT true oracles like him could grasp. They had to see what telling knowledge to someone would result in. Neither was Felix aware that everything he and Nic had said had been heard by a little girl despite having a sphere of silence raised.

When asked if HE was hungry, Gremora shrugged. "I had candy bars..." That he had also bought in Inaaksu. "Ten of um... Felix didn't want any." His lips curled into a crooked smile. He thought it was nice of Felix to let him eat all of them.

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Once at the top of the stairs it was not far to the group of chambers off of the hallway which wound its way to the lair's west entrance. Wyrvaust paused and gestured for Marsol to do the same as they approached the holding chamber to hear them talking. When the voices fell to mere whispers he looked to Marsol, wondering if he could hear them or if he was using an ability that would let him hear what they said. Then when the whispering took pause, he looked to his chieftain to answer him. "Came Snakeson with claims of wanting help to escape his sire, and Nic implored the Raven to aid his brother in this endeavor, plying the Raven with the fact that he being of Mekkor's blood as well should offer his aid. So... the Raven gave them a potion which..." Now he began to speak telepathically to Marsol. "Which destroyed Mekkor's mark and domination over all three Reavers... made all three drink the concoction, part of which was the same means the Raven used after hiding from them for over an age to break all his clan's marks. But also in the potion was the power to rend them mortal on the Raven's word, and to locate them whereever they should roam. Burned this potion these commands into their bodies, hard runes to keep lest their bodies be destroyed."

Wyrvaust was called clever for a reason. "Under our control the Snakesons until his chief decides what is to be done with them. Trust them the Raven does not... for what his child overheard while she was playing, was Snakeson trying to convince Nic to choose a side... whilst he made clear, even after mark was destroyed, that the side HE chooses is the Snake. No commitment was Nic heard making. Plays dumb that one, but smart he is in ways of deception. But the Raven has no idea who it is he IS trying to deceive. He believes Halfscale is loyal to Marsol... but as both I and his Reaver brother have pointed out to him, he cannot be loyal to you both when you are enemies. He MUST choose, Marsol. As for Snakeson... Nic claims love for him. The Raven meanwhile is tempted to make a black minion of him. He made claims to have come here to take ME into their fold. How he meant to accomplish that, we cannot say. Perhaps we should let him try to find out."~ He suggested. ~"And yet keeping him here may draw the snake himself. Most loyal servant of the Desert Wind. But he is Behemoth... capturing him is... very difficult. Killing him even more so. Felix is his oldest surviving, acolyte. He must be important to him, if anything can be. Or perhaps nothing but Sammael and that evil dragon of his really matters to him."~ To the question of anyone having looked for them there. "The Snake is well aware that Nic frequents this place, perhaps even that he resides here. But the Snakesons are fresh to this place and cannot be tracked here without mark in warded zone. Someone will look here sooner rather than later though, because of Nic. They are close. They imagined I could help them escape their sire." He snorted. "Ridiculous. They would never be willing to bury themselves in rock and sand and under shadow and abyss, ever moving and always alone in order never to be found for ages until mark was finally removed and still in solitude but for his chieftain's visits to keep from their eyes. How long did the Raven hide himself away, never going out but to hunt under the darkest shadows of the dunes? No, not willing to go to such lengths Felix and Nic. No way." He was sure of that. "So when they asked, the Raven did what he could, to cover this place with them from the Snake's eyes, and to bring them under our control, and to prepare possible bait... maybe, if we find it feasible." He drew a deep breath. "Come and question the reavers for himself." he prompted and in only a short walk they were standing outside the chamber door.

Hiall turned back when asked about food. "Urr.... I was told to feed them when food arrived... It hasn't. Sorry." What could he do? He was just the will controlled guard? That said he went back to his book. Oh but he was listening very carefully with those elvish ears of his, pretending all the while not to hear a thing. Poor kid... he thought, about Felix. #

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mike dilly (19:43:08): Niculaie had no idea what was to come, maybe they were all good as dead. If Marsol thought they were a threat he would likely dispatch them, he knew well enough. Niculaie just watched the door for a long moment as he thought about what might happen, he decided he rather not think about it. "Ronwe? I cannot say that I do." He just thought about it for a long moment, what they should do.. "Marsol respects truth, I think that perhaps, telling them what is expected of you by.. him, might be a good idea." If they caught Felix is a lie he would die rather horribly after all.

Niculaie used that bond to impress upon him that when he said 'YOU' he wanted to be left out of his truth. It was not likely Mekkor even feigned to trust Nic would come through witht he task he was given. Niculaie was quite on the fence indeed, and it was likely going to get him killed by one side or the other. "It is not too late for you Felix, the fence you say I straddle, you cans till climb over to the other side also." Nic wanted to scream with all his might but he just went to that door, and sighed as Hiall replied. "Thanks, anyways."

Nic was surprised to see Wryvaust and Marsol as they came waltzing up to the door and he just stepped back a few feet, and glanced to Felix, and shrugged.. "No food yet, but visitors." And he waited for them to enter, Niculaie might have been curious to hear what Wryvaust predicted he was willing to do. that was a strength of Nic's, when he did set his mind to a task, he did whatever he had to, to see it complete. Another thought though, would Marsol give him a haymaker when he tried to greet him, it was not hard to guess that Marsol might not have agreed with Nic's idea to help Felix.":

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Justice (20:00:45): At that door he gave Niculaie a questioning stare that could almost become a glare if he looked for too long. He didn't. Shifting his amber gaze from Niculaie to his other clan brothers he settled the full weight of his stare on Felix like predator to prey. If Felix felt slightly small or as defenseless as a baby lamb it would be because that was exactly what that look did to someone. "Open the door," he commands. Whomever opened that door, be it Wyrvaust since it was part of his lair or Hiall, it would only be a matter of seconds before Marsol lunged forward those few feet to catch Niculaie by the back of his neck and squeeze till the Abyssal Reaver had lost memories of his childhood by the pain in his neck, spine, and head. He jerked him real close like so when he spoke Niculaie would feel the heat of his words slightly burning his face. "Are you mad boy?" He turned to throw Niculaie behind himself, out of that cell, and across the threshold into the wall where no doubt his back would smack into the stone. What did he do then? His eyes lit on Felix as he slowly stalked towards him to grab him by the front of his shirt. That hand singed some of Felix's clothing if it wasn't fully protected against fire but it would not harm Felix. Not yet. "Lie to me and it will be my pleasure to cook you and eat you alive," he said bluntly to Felix and Gremora both despite having Felix's shirt clenched in a fist. "Choose your words wisely, little Eel. Why have you come here?" The question was not as simple as saying they'd come because they'd been given orders to. This was the chance he was giving Felix to get his lilly white ass off that goddamn fence once and for all. He would not even address them as Snakeson or any other title befitting their rank or class or station within Mekkor's clan. That wasn't to say he said the word "eel" to put it as a cowardly beast by no means. Eels were some of the most dangerous creatures, in his eyes. Which is why the room was heating up and the clock was ticking for Felix and Gremora to give Marsol some really classic poetic shit from Shang Gri La or else... he would destroy them.[fin]

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JD at TMK (20:36:08): Felix just stared at Nic deadpan when he said he could climb over to the other side ALSO. Well that said it all, didn't it? "I am a dead man." He was sure of it now. He could lie, sure, and he might even get away with it, but his reason for being here was shot. He blamed Nic for that for drugging him and dominating him in some really fucked up way that made it almost impossible for him to hold back what he was feeling, so even if he WANTED to lie he would probably fuck it up somehow. He was having a really hard time controlling his impulses or concentrating. He could hardly capture Wyrvaust when he was all fucked up much less the prisoner. And he doubted Wyrvaust KEPT prisoners for very long. He would just tell them the truth and take whatever was coming. At least HE would die loyal.

Gremora just kind of played with his toys while the others spoke until the dragon appeared at the door, at what time he smiled and picked up a paddle ball game with a red dragon on it and brought it over to Marsol, whom he thrust the game out to through the bars. "For the King of the Desert." He announced and then pointed to the dragon on the paddle. "See? It's you." He grinned, flashing those fangs and sharp teeth of his. He was like a retarded little brother, only he was a lot smarter than his innocent nature let on. He was simply a fresh fallen and sired angel of swords. Battle was what he was all about and when not fighting he was gentle and guiless as you please. The dragon was a fair image of the red dragons of the desert. "Look... the ball bounces off of him... just like anything anyone can fling at a dragon." He showed him how to play and laughed then held it out for him one more time to take. "Please, I want you to have it. It's a present." Was he batting those super long and thick brunette lashes of his. His demeanor seemed to contradict his battle scarred and hardened body, and those rugged but attractive facial features of his. Felix often jokingly called him Marlboro man, though Gremora looked between his upper 20s to low 30s, and when he tried to smoke one of Felix's cigarettes it had been the LAST time. He had coughed for an hour from one puff. It had just felt all wrong in his throat and lungs.

The fact that Marsol didn't even blink as he glowered at Nic and Felix didn't seem to phase Gremora, who stepped gingerly out of the way when Marsol entered the cell. He looked on with concern when Nic was accosted by the dragon lord, but when Marsol leaned his angry eyes on Felix and stalked HIS way, Gremora lunged in between them. He would have drawn his pair of broad swords, but they vanished from his hands and went right back into their sheaths, as the wards tried to gate them to a secure location, only they were heritage swords so could not leave his person. Before the confused reaver could try and draw again, Felix shouted at him.

"Gremora, no! Stand down, brother." Gremora looked at him like he was insane, but when Felix nodded, he sighed and stood away.

Felix tried to dodge Marsol when the path was clear and he came at him. And as he did he spat out. "Wait, fuck, there is no need for that! I'll tell you everything!" Fence striding? Felix had NEVER strode a single fence. Well once... Arghal had worn his ass DOWN, down, down, to the bare assed ground, and he had finally caved, but it hadn't lasted long. That had been when Mekkor had been so called executed. Yeah, nice try. He stiffened when Marsol did grab him and his eyes rounded on those flames. He breathed in relief that he wasn't getting burned. Abyss demons and dragon fire... just not a happy combination. Yeah, they could resist normal fire... but well, dragon fire was something else for an abyss demon. "Wisdom has nothing to do with the truth. If I was wise I would lie my ass off because you can't detect lies with me. You'll only know I am telling you the truth because of what I say. I SERVE Mekkor... he is my sire. HE is where my loyalty is... but it is also to Nic, my newblood Gremora, and even Wyrvaust, because he is blood of my sire. Maybe that sucks for him, but it's fact. I came to try and bring Wyrvaust back to Mekkor.... to basically force him into giving Mekkor another chance AS his sire. He regrets what he did all those years ago... has regretted it ever since. He sired him because he enjoyed tormenting him so much that he wanted it to last. To keep him alive, but then like it was with me... he saw something in him... but by then it was too late. Wyrvaust despised him. I came for Wyrvaust, and that's the truth. Nic fucking drugged me and enslaved me all wrong, so I went off the deep end and I guess I got caught, because here I am. He thinks I can escape Mekkor and Sammael and Lilith and that whole gang. He is fucking nuts to think it. Wyrvaust is the ONLY one who has EVER done it and look at the way he has had to live to do it? Clan never lets clan go. Mekkor will never stop. I wanted to fucking END it, for ALL of us... How else will it ever end? Maybe Sammael hates YOU for taking Wyrvaust from Mekkor. Who the fuck knows! All I know is I want it to stop. So... do whatever you want with me. End me, turn me into a mindless slave... Now that Nic wants to follow in Wyrvaust's shoes there really WILL be NO end to it." He shrugged.

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mike dilly (20:59:58): Niculaie would do what he could to save Felix, even though Felix thought he was a dead man, but he would do anything he could to protect his brother. Nic watched Marsol as he entered, the red dragon was a true sight to behold. Niculaie was suprised though when the Dragon was ontop of him faster than shit and that strength was he crushing Nic's spine, and pulled him in close, the reaver could hardly see as Marsol spoke to him, but before he could answer he was tossed aside like a sack of potato's and into the hall he flew and slammed into the stone wall solidly, it almost sounded morbid the sound he made when he hit the wall. And to the floor ge went with a groan.

Niculaie had at the veryleast a broken arm, and his neck felt like he had whiplash. Niculaie though lifted his eyes to look at Marsol, he could only see the back of the dragon lord. "Go--sha.." He tried to speak, but his voice was raspy and low, he felt like a truck hit him, and then fell into a trash compactor. Fuck Marsol still hit as hard as ever. But his son was inside, and he could not let him be collateral damage! "Ra--ven!" He coughed up a bit of blood and wiped his lips with his rifht hand, his left arm limp, he would have to put his shoulde rback into the socket. Nic pushed himself up as he could hear Felix being put to the flame, questioned about his intentions here. Felix spilling it without hesitation.

Niculaie Growled though as he could feel blood drippign down his face, and into his left eye making it close. "Rave-n, Gosha.. Inside." Niculaie had nothing he could do to stop Marsol, that heat he was expelling, wouldn't take long to fry Marsol's grandson into a crispy critter if it got any hotter, but part of him doubted Marsol would even notice Bellana and young Gosha. Niculaie damned his weakness.. He couldn't protect his wife, his son, his brothers.. And Felix was likely right, in the end he probably would end up at Mekkor's mercy.

If Wryvaust did not listen to Nic he would have to reach Marsol or someone.. "MARSOL!" His voice came out harsh and hoarse, "Cool your rage, Gosha is inside!" He would ony call out Marsol directly if Wryvaust did not take actions to aid his son's plight.:

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Justice (22:03:34): By the end of Felix's speel it may have looked as if him telling Marsol just further enraged him. Towards the end of it when Niculaie's voice could be heard shouting over his shoulder. As he inhaled it felt like he was inhaling some of the coolness in the cell and the hallway but then as he exhaled it was more a sigh in a puff of hot air. Letting go of Felix's shirt he straightened up to stand to his full heigth. It was unclear if he let Felix go because of his answer or because of Niculaie's frantic shouting. Point was Felix and Gremora, and Niculaie, were not crispy critters being served for lunch. Marsol spoke as he turned away from him to search the cell for Bella and go to her to put a reassuring hand to her side. "You speak of 'ending' it as if your methods would have solved everything. For you perhaps. For Wyrvaust it would be the beginning of a nightmare he has already endured once. ONCE. You judge his life because how how he lived hidden so deeply within the deserts bosum to be free of the one you call master." He took Gosha with a smile to Bella and did not mind Gosha's hands pawing at his cheeks because he was happy to see him. Strange. Kids were always happy to see him and he had no idea why. "The Raven endured, as I have endured, both friend and foe time after time to see our lives come to this point in time. THIS, Felix, is why you should never give up your life, your freedom, to anyone or anything. Why you must fight until you have nothing left to give and then? You battle on. You wade through the blood, sweat and tears." He brought Gosha close to his chest as he pulled the uncomfortable heat from the room and hall to put it back to that comfortable tempurature that Wyrvaust kept it at, or the ones he put in charge of the climate control. Gosha squeezed at his neck and it warmed him to see his grandson, though not by blood. "There will be a time for Mekkor, for Lilith, and for Sammael," he said, a flaring of molten gold in his eyes over Gosha's head. It wasn't a threat. It was a promise. "You look like someone who is in dire need of tasting freedom, Felix. This "end" you speak of starts with you and how badly do you want to live." Marsol let Gosha climb up onto his right shoulder where he could hug his neck more and play with the few wooden beads and feathers in his hair near his right ear. "You are already dead, Felix."[fin]

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JD at TMK (22:46:27): Wyrvaust hadn't noticed Gosha there any sooner than Marsol had. He had actually just been keeping an aloof eye on things, listening to all exhanges and taking mental notes. He was calm as a lake on a still day despite all the commotion. It all seemed quite normal to him under the circumstances. He was surprised that Felix so readily spilled the truth, and he believed it WAS just that, the truth.

Felix was not evil... He could be, but he tended to be alright. He had a lack of empathy he had been building on since he was a child to protect himself, but he could BE compassionate, he just seldom was and even less often let anyone see it. He had a defensive shield miles thick but he was also severely damaged emotionally so he could be anything from perfectly poised to wildly explosive. The only time he had ever said he wanted to leave Mekkor and meant it, was when Arghal had worn him down... after Mekkor's execution, until he had finally 'confessed' but it was all part of getting to Lavoy... Was all to get closer to Lavoy... FOR Mekkor, AND for himself, because he wanted Lavoy for himself. There had been a time when he would have done ANYTHING to escape Mekkor... but that time was long past. It was an easy ruse, saying he wanted to leave him. Who wouldn't believe that? What proved how truly fucked up Felix WAS, was that he DIDN'T want to leave him, even if he could. He had been with him since he was three. What else was there for him? He was a human who had become a demon, a powerful demon at that, in one of the most powerful clans (Behemoth) and houses (Sammael) in Acheron. Mekkor was Sammael's second as prince, and Felix was his sire's only living acolyte other than Nic and Wyrvaust. Felix was not quite three hundred years younger than Wyrvaust but he had been with Mekkor the whole time, been with him on earth when his brothers, Sarz, Guy and Hasan fell to powerful enemies.

Felix listened to Marsol, he did, and he saw why Nic loved him, why Wyrvaust and so many others loved him, but he would never choose Marsol over his own sire and Sammael's house.

Felix stiffened when Marsol whispered to him that he was already dead. "Maybe I am, but as that dead man, I stay with my Lord Mekkor out of choice," he assured Marsol. "I will make no excuses for him, but I can say he is the way he is for a reason. I am his proof. I am proof of what torture and torment does to a living thing. I am proof of what hate can result in. I love him. He is my sire. Sammael is the king I choose to serve, as my master serves him. If Wyrvaust wants to escape his blood, he knows the way. Mekkor told him once. I remember... I was very young, but I remember. He didn't take it."

When the subject turned to him Wyrvaust shook his head. "He offered death."

"Right," Felix understood that.

"I did not know then that death was just..."

"A pitstop?" Felix filled in.

Wyrvaust didn't know what that meant. "A slow ship to oblivion." He put in his own words.

"Well now you do know." Felix pointed out.

"What is its point?" Wyrvaust snarled. "It wants us to kill itself?"

Felix shook his head. "I am simply making the point that you HAVE a choice. You could have and still can break free of him. You're not marked."

Wyrvaust turned a pair of burning eyes on Nic and as he did the cell door flew open. "Tell your servant to leave with Gosha. NOW." He demanded, and if Nic did not act fast enough, Wyrvaust would send them
back to Nic's keep on the fast track by gate transfer. Either way, when she was gone, Wyrvaust himself entered the spacious enough chamber he had left to Marsol until now. "The Raven would turn him into black if Marsol would let him." By that he meant make him into a black minion. Was not Grym happy, and Hiall, and all the others he had made? They were all perfectly happy. Why would he wish to take Felix's will? Because he obviously wished for it to be controlled by someone else. He would rather HE did it than Mekkor. He was angry really, for what Felix said, because it was true. Wyrvaust had feared true death more than his blood. True death might keep him forever or it might send him to Acheron, or worse, in his opinion, to Leviathan, who had already gotten his hands on him once, briefly, when he was in a deep state of rest that made him comatose. Also, he though it was a trick... That Felix was trying to trick him into killing himself so Mekkor could easily capture him.

"It is using the truth to draw the Raven out..." He swore by it, but Felix was just being honest. His eyes then thinned on Felix. "What of Mendorin..?"

"What of him?" Felix wished to know.

"What does Mekkor mean for him to do with Anna? Use her to keep Nic in line? To control Marsol? WHAT??!" He fumed.

Felix was backing away from him now as he strode closer to him. "Mendorin is his OWN fucking demon..." Wyrvaust backhanded his face for cussing in front of the king, and himself for that matter.

"Show respect," Wyrvaust growled.

"Mendorin and Mekkor have not spoken for years. The Anna thing has nothing to do with Mekkor."

Wyrvaust did not believe him and trained his burning indigo eyes on Marsol. "He has to know... Mendorin is his proxy... How can he not know?" Wyrvaust really did want Marsol's consent to 'undo' Felix. "Let me turn him, Marsol..." The abyss demon implored.

"Please don't..." Felix then plead. "It has taken me ages to gain my sire's respect... PLEASE don't... Let me return to him... I will take any message you please to him, and I will admit my failure. Just... let me go to him." He plead for what he truly most hoped for, and the tears rolling down his cheeks were not crocodile tears. He was truly in fear of his life far more than if he was promised death.

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mike dilly (23:19:22): Niculaie wasleaning to the wall, and it seemed Marsol had calmed some and things were not going to reach armageddon levels of fuck batshit crazy. Nic took in a deep breath as he prepared himself for the pain that was going t be severe. The Reaver then slammed his shoulder into the wall in such a way that it pushed his dislocated shoulder back into place, it was everything Nic could muster not scream like a girl. "Ugh!" Jesus that hurt, and he slid to his ass, he was panting as did so, watching his Son toy with Marsol's hair as he did so.

When Wryvaust commanded Niculaie, the Reaver nodded, "Bellana, get Gosha and leave, back to the Glass keep." The demonic slave was compelled by Niculaie then to do just that, leave. Nic just watched as Wryvaust entered the cell to speak his peace to Felix.. And it was so much more than he had ever imagined. Mekkor and Wryvaust had a very interesting relationship it seemed. But Nic did not like the idea of this 'making felix black' business. Bellana though would do as she was big, taking the child back to the Glass keep.

Niculaie was finally able to stand back up, he still felt like he was smacked by a semi, but atleast he was not on the floor. "What are you talking about, Wryvaust. How is that a solution? If you do exactly what Mekkor would do, how is that any better? MY blood even runs through him now, I claimed him, let it be me!" Niculaie was not about to let him get turned into some soulless zombie or something! He hoped, but doubted Marsol would back him up here. "I can control him, let me save him." MAybe Nic was daft, who knows.. He did not want to lose Felix though. He felt a special connection to him, their were both reborn on the same day, the first born Arcane Reavers. Niculaie was not belligerant or rude, just spoke how he felt. "You are vastly knowledgable, under your direction I could control him. And with the wards as they are its not like he can run away.":

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JD at TMK (23:51:33): Wyrvaust looked at Nic like he had lost his poor mind when he suggested HE dominate Felix. Yeah, and he was HOW stupid to agree to THAT? He opened his lips and was about to speak when Gremora stepped forward, and he was trembling with rage and upset. He looked like he was about to implode, and being an angelic reaver he just might. He was kind of an experiment.

"My sire is a GOOD sire... He is a GOOD man, whatever he may be to Mekkor, or Sammael, or Nic, or even me, I see so much goodness in him. Whatever happened to not forcing him to feel a thing?" He was asking BOTH Wyrvaust AND Nic this, though it was Wyrvaust who said if Felix was an enemy he would be returned to his sire. If that meant dead, then so be it, but Gremora knew emotions were high in Wyrvaust and that he was acting rashly with this black thing, whatever it was, it boded badly for Felix. "Whatever happened to meeting his true face? He has SHOWN it to you, as you WISHED! Said if he was friend or foe you would send him where he belonged! Did you speak false?" he challeneged the abyss demon.

Wyrvaust heaved a breath. "No... The Raven meant it..." He assured.

"Then why all this black talk?" Gremora asked.

Wyrvaust sighed again and fixed his eyes on Marsol. "The Bird Reaver speaks true... The Raven spoke rashly... perhaps. It is only that he knows what Snakeson has been through... knows that he cannot possibly know his own heart or mind. Knows that Mekkor only makes him a liar. If the Raven could see him reborn into a life free of Mekkor, he would."

"But that is not my wish," Felix said quietly.

"But if he could be reborn... live a good life..."

"I am what I am, Wyrvaust... I have paid a high cost to get here, and I am NOT willing to just throw it all away... or reject my sire. I think my king is the only one who actually understands... My place is with my sire. Deliver me dead, or deliver me alive, but please... deliver me..." he begged.

Wyrvaust regarded Felix for a few moments then locked his eyes on Marsol. How could anyone choose Mekkor over Marsol unless their heart and will had been obliterated? "It is for Marsol to decide, yes?" Turning Felix was a bad idea perhaps because it would simply enrage Behemoth... but then perhaps they could capture him. But if Behemoth were captured would not then Sammael follow? If capturing Mekkor was not hard enough, capturing Sammael would be impossible would it not? Wyrvaust was thinking not only along dangerous lines but insane ones. If Marsol was picking up on his thoughts he had not noticed, but he might realize it if Marsol agreed for Wyrvaust to bring Felix into the black.

Nic meanwhile could not sense the climate of Wyrvaust's mind because he and his brothers had been cut off from mind speak. It was so they could not 'plot' unattended. Wyrvaust was paranoid but with damn good cause.

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Mike Dilly: Niculaie hated the thought of Felix being sent back to Mekkor meant it was likely they would not speak again for sometime if at all, Nic had never been sure he could even go through with this. Niculaie had always been able to put his Morality aside in the name of a mission, but he did not believe in this mission, or in the betrayal of his friends. Something Nic could not swallow, and though Anna and Marsol were not blood, she was her father and he did not want to hurt her that way. Still it was hard, Mekkor had only ever helped him, he did not wish to betray Mekkor either, he had not met the menace they all knew. Niculaie just listened as Gremora plead for his sire, Wryvaust was a man of his word, far as Nic knew, but he wondered how fast he might go back on that word if Marsol said to do it. He did not need telepathy, empathic communication for Felix to know he was doing everything he could for him. "MArsol will know best." Nic hoped he was right, he trusted Marsol though, so he said nothing more.:

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JD: And then there was silence in leu of the need for Marsol to weigh in. Looks were exchanged between Wyrvaust and Nic. Felix bowed his head in silent contemplation, then all eyes came to rest on Marsol. Only Gremora broke the silence because he had ONE last thing to say. "He has shown his face to you. What else is there but to let him go? He can do nothing to you now. Only become deserving of your trust. Perhaps... there can be peace? Is that so impossible?" He suggsted, albeit a little tentatively. #

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JD: Marsol met the gaze of everyone who rested their eyes on him, and after considering everything that was said and done, he turned to Felix pulled him close. He whispered something to him which only he would hear then stepped back. Felix did not seem outwardly to react to what he said, but he swallowed a knot in his throat. He had said something which effected him deeply enough to feel strangled by his own emotions.

Then... he told Wyrvaust simply... "Let them go."
When Wyrvaust asked if he was sure, his gaze just hardened on him.

Wyrvaust hung his head a moment as if in shame, and perhaps it was shame he felt, for what he had wanted to do to Felix... for thinking it could be the best thing. Wyrvaust unlocked the door and stepped aside.

After the two other reavers picked up their things and Felix approached the door, Marsol snagged him by his arm. His grip was like hot steel. "Leave Ametmorgu without rest and do not return." His instructions also a clear warning. He then let go of Felix who continued out and Gremora followed behind him.

"Show our brother to the door, Nic," Wyrvaust allowed, and Marsol nodded his consent. "Once outside... pass through the gateways which appear to it quickly or get sealed inside the canyon until the wardseal is lowered. The Raven may get hungry for demon meat if that should happen," he warned.

The two would then watch as Nic escorted Felix and Gremora west down the hall. Wyrvaust released the wards enough to allow them passage into the wardseal area of the canyon outside, but Felix would find himself unable to gate until he had left the canyon entirely, including the corridor. He and Gremora alone were selected for bypass, so that as they breeched the glowing areas of the wardseal, it would crackle around them as they were able to pass through it. Wyrvaust would keep a close feeler on his wards when this happened, because it was the first time the wardseal had been selectively lowered outside of tests. It could only be done at very specific places, locked gateways within a wall at exact locations he could open briefly before the wardseal came back down to close those timed openings.

As Nic walked with them, Felix spoke. "Sorry if I am a disappointment to you, brother."

Gremora gave him a puzzled look. He was worried though... about how Mekkor would respond to what had happened in the desert. All of it.

"Will Nic not ask if he may come back to the city with us?" Gremora asked. Nic had kind of grown on him.

"Too much too soon on his king," Felix said for him. Gremora wasn't sure what that meant. He was naive about a lot of things. Battle he understood. It was straight forward.

"Does he not belong with us?" The newblood asked.

"Only if he believes he does, and he does not." Again, Felix spoke for Nic. He just wanted to leave, put the desert behind them, take whatever punishment awaited him, move forward when he could. He might be unwell for awhile... He had done a LOT to disappoint Mekkor. He was closing himself off, from Nic, from Gremora, from himself really. It was how he survived the hard times. Out into the canyon they walked. It was blistering hot. Felix squinted his eyes against the sun. The sun was still high enough to burn in his eyes. Ugh. #

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mike dilly: Niculaie listened to the sentencing given by Marsol, and he would let them live, let them leave. Nic though having listened to what had all been said, from Wryvaust living like some kinda damn hermit.. To what Mekkor did to his own acolytes, it was clear that Nic also had to make a choice. Selfishly he could decide to stay here and rely on Marsol to take care of him, like some sort of hapless leech, never letting hs family stray far from the wards. Or he could leave with his clan brothers, let Mekkor have him fully and finally. Niculaie had no idea if he would ever have the chance to return if he left, but if Mekkor came down on the desert to claim his acolytes, Niculaie would feel shame for his cowardice. For staying, and hiding.

"Of course." He then walked with them, leading them to the edge of the wardseal where they could exit, he was quite for most of the way, listening to them. "Felix, you stayed true to yourself, I am not disappointed in you. It is myself I owe all the disappointment to. There is no direction I can go that doesn't hurt someone I love. I had happiness, briefly, but it was not meant to be. I cannot be with my wife, I can only endanger her. I only endanger these people here, who I call family. I even betrayed you, Felix." Niculaie sighed as they reached the gate out of the wardseal.

"Forgive me, Annandabah." He said, and then he followed them out past the wardseal. Niculaie would send word to Marsol eventually about why he left, but in his opinion he had no choice. If Nic remained, he could not insure Anna and Gosha were safe, Marsol would take good care of his son, he had faith in that. He would find out who cursed his son to die, and he would make them suffer. "If I would have stayed, they would have only been worse off for it. As you said Mekkor will never allow Wryvaust to be free, so why would I be any different? Atleast now Anna and Gosha are safe." And so Nicualaue would go with his brothers. "Where do we go from here?":

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JD: Felix let his guard down a little when Nic came out and said the things he did. "Well... having met Marsol I begin to understand your confusion... He is a good king. Wyrvaust seems a little on the edge though... But I guess why I came here pushed him too far. I don't really blame him for what he wanted to do either. But you stepping up like this..." That said he drew in a deep breath and passed through the wardseal where it glowed white.

Felix was actually amazed when Nic went through the gate with them. His eyes leapt on him as they stepped through the wardseal midway between the west entrance to the keep and the western corridor. When they reached the corridor further along they would find a smaller encampment established there. Mostly rival tribes of those in the east corridor. His eyes then trained ahead of them as they walked a little further before he said anything. Talking about his feelings was always terribly awkward for him.

"Damn, Nic... I mean... I know I wanted you to choose a side... But are you sure about this? You could still go back... It would be easy to accidentally pass through with us... I barely saw the gateway myself. Mekkor is gonna be hell on us when we get back." He was sure of that. "I wish we could convince our Lord to let Wyrvaust go... Maybe if we went to Sammael..." He had never asked anything of Sammael before... Not a thing. "Or... maybe we could ask Mekkor what it would take for him to let Wyrvaust go... Find a replacement he would accept?" He was grabbing at straws. He just wanted the blood feud to end. Had for a long long time. It only got everyone into deep shit.

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mike dilly (14:33:38): Niculaie was not sure he should go, but he knew it was the right thing to do if he wanted to protect Anna and Gosha. The reaver just sort of steeled himself with the decision he was making, to leave his home in the desert. It would ever be his home, and he would never allow himself to do harm to this place while he had the will power left in him to resist. He loved the desert and the dragon tribe he had so long lived with here. Marsol and Anna were his family, but he had a clan he had to heed. Niculaie could not protect Anna and Gosha the same way Wryvaust protected his, he was weak. But if allowing Mekkor to have him kept them safe than he was willing.

Perhaps Niculaie and Felix could convince Mekkor to put Wryvaust behind him, and to seek a truce with the Desert. He could make things right if he could secure a safe future for his home, the Desert of Fire. Wryvaust might htink he was a traitor for this, Marsol might hate him, but Niculaie could take it. "I will do anything to protect Anna and Gosha, and to keep my home safe. Even if it means to be branded an exile and traitor, if I can keep this place safe, then whatever MEkkor has me do, I can bare." Nic said when Felix questioned his decision, "I am not like you, I do not love Mekkor and wish to be with him, I do not know him. Whether he is a saint or sinner I do not care, I promised Anna when I married her I would always protect her and our family. I intend to do just that." Niculaie then shrugged as he felt how heavy this made his heart, he truely loved this place. "We will find a way to make things right, Felix.":

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JD at TMK (15:16:36): Wyrvaust sighed deeply when he felt Nic pass through the threshold of the wardseal. He had hoped he would stick it out with Marsol. His eyes settled on his chieftain who looked tired. "Nic has chosen to accompany Snakeson beyond the wardseal..." He informed him in grave but quiet tones. "My chieftain looks exhausted... He should return to his family and let the Raven handle the Reaver. He is... his clansman, and... His confusion in this matter though deplorable is understandable. Halfscale is young and... well still very human in his heart and will."

Marsol shook his head, disappointed, but a fire also burned beneath his amber gaze. "How was he able to leave the wards?" he wished to know, but he had the sneaking suspicion that Wyrvaust had intended it, that or Nic had wrecked the wards again which the temperamental one doubted.

"The Raven allowed it," he confirmed Marsol's first guess. "To see if he would," he added. "But he only passed through the ward seal. They are still in the warded area and shall be for some time. They cannot gate until the corridor is left behind them. The Raven on the other hand can," he informed him. "Please allow me to retrieve him." Marsol nodded and so Wyrvaust manipulated the wardseal once again to let himself pass. He would have to go over the wardseal when he returned. Letting it be breeched could weaken it. It was meant as a solid lockdown, but he had made provisions for being able to come and go through it, but doing so could cause microscopic perforations in the wardseal field where it was opened. He would have to repair any holes no matter how small. The smallest hole could be opened wider by enemies or even those under the ward protection.

Wyrvaust and Marsol parted ways to go in opposite directions, Wyrvaust west and Marsol east. The dragon might just do a little exploring before he went to find his sons and the green eyed bird. Perhaps run across this Memnoch fellow, or the other prisoner. Mekkor, Mendorin... both sending their spawn to the fire sands. Too many snakes were slithering around in his desert.

Wyrvaust walked outside but from that point shadow-walked to where the wardseal ended, and there had to walk through the opening he had commanded appear to himself. He had it open in the same spot as it had for the Reavers so only one area of the wardseal would require strengthening. Once he had passed through, he phased into shadows again to catch up with his 'brothers'. Or were they really his brothers now? They were Reavers, he a demon of the abyss. Had they been created, or sired? If they were creations of Mekkor's... there was no blood between him and them, was there? He felt a connection to Nic though... but maybe Marsol was that connection. The abyss demon could not be sure. Wyrvaust remained in the shadows for awhile even when they were in his sight. He wanted to listen to them speak to one another before showing himself, get a better idea of why Nic had deserted Marsol.

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Felix stopped dead in his tracks when Nic spoke of the reasons he had chosen to leave. "And what if we fail to get him to back off of Wyrvaust? Convincing him to back down is a LONG ass shot you know. You are more likely to hit a snake a thousand yards out with that six shooter of yours. And about that, old school, man. I love my semi-auto 45.s and 50.s. Or better yet, give me a howitzer for the old school or a rocket launcher in any class," he laughed. It
JD at TMK (15:16:38): was just like Felix to say something serious then throw some humor out on the table. "But seriously..." then back to sobering subjects again. "He may send us back out here... It could happen. What then...? Marsol ain' about to trust you any more after this." He was just trying to be realistic. "At this point you could say you had no idea you stepped over the ward field. It's not too late. I just want you to be sure, man. Much as I want you around... you might belong here. Mekkor, he won't want you halfway. He will want to KNOW you are his. Unlike most demons, he saves domination as a LAST resort. He only ever dominated me to protect my ass. Kinda like what you said you tried with me. He will want to KNOW you mean to stay, Nic. No half ass."
JD at TMK (15:17:11): #
JD at TMK (15:23:12): Felix had no idea that Mekkor HAD dominate the crap out of both of them not too long ago. It had been to protect them and himself, to make sure they could not talk of certain things, AND to get Nic in line. Mekkor had been sly about it though and neither of them had even been aware they were dominated. That domination had been shattered by Wyrvaust's little multi-purpose concoction though.#
JD at TMK (15:23:26): (**dominated)

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mike dilly (15:34:45): Niculaie had no idea if this was the right call, the reaver had no idea if Marsol would consider him a traitor or worse. Niculaie though felt strongly about defending them. Nic just touched Felix on the arm as his grey eyes watched his elder brother. He was pleased Felix cared that Nic made a decision he could live with. "I understand your concern, but as it stands my being here only endangers Gosha and Anna, if they were to come to harm, I would be utterly broken. The fate of my family is cursed, and beyond that if I stay Mekkor will only come at us that much harder. PErhaps we can help him to resist coming for one Acolyte, but the more of us that stay the more danger the home I have come to love is put in danger."

Niculaie had no idea if Felix understood, he only wished to be at his sire's side, so it was hard to say. "If Mekkor does that he will have betrayed me, and he knows it. I also have faith that Wryvaust and Marsol will have mercy enough to destroy me so that I might never do harm to the ones I love. If Marsol can never forgive me, that is fine, I can take it. Cause I will know that I did everything I could to keep hell off of his door step, and I hope one day he can understand and even forgive me for this. Unlike Wryvaust I don't have the power to fight off Mekkor. It would be selfish of me to stay." Nic then sighed heavily, the weight of crushing sadness, leaving his home.. possibly forever.

Niculaie wa snot trying to fool Mekkor, he would stay and do his duty to his clan, die for them if Mekkor asked it. It was his only option. "I cannot do much to aid Marsol as I am now, if I can keep Mekkor off his door step even a little while, I will have been useful to him, I will not have been a waste." Niculaie could feel hiself on the edge of breaking down if he continued on like this, truth was.. The last thing he wanted was to leave, but he saw no alternative that did not end in the death of friends and family.:

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JD at TMK (15:59:03): There wasn't much more Felix could say about Nic's determination, but he had some things to say about his reasons. "Nic... returning to Mekkor to protect Marsol may not make our maker content. Why should it? Put yourself in his place. Furthermore... Mekkor would not see sending us back here as a betrayal to you, but as making us finish the mission we started. He does not see claiming Wyrvaust as anything but retrieving a clan member who never should have left according to clan law. Wyrvaust broke clan and standard laws and he let him fucking slide. He didn't want to see him destroyed. He could have gone to Sammael or Maelmord and demanded his return, but he kept it between himself and Wyrvaust, and for that matter Marsol. He actually has his own sense of honor. He figures he and his clan lost him and its up to THEM, US to get him back. Changing his mind about Wyrvaust might be next to impossible. I am just saying we can try but that doesn't mean he will agree to anything."

Now when Felix said all this Wyrvaust paused in his strides within the black veil which concealed him and fell behind a little. He had never really thought about that... really considered why Mekkor had never cited clan law or acheron's standards. And there was no statute of limitations on that either... He still could if he wanted, which got him to thinking... if they took Nic by force... Wyrvaust's heart began hammering in his chest. He started walking again as Felix continued to talk.

"We could... instead of going straight back to Mekkor... go see some people... See if there might be a way to kick this Anna curse thing. Marco might know of a way. Or..." He was going to suggest Arghal but Mekkor had strictly forbidden him from seeing the arch mage. Felix had even had to duck out of his Inn commons to avoid him a few times. "Well there are plenty of powers in Morendor we might consult with. If we could fix that whole curse thing... Would you want to stay with Marsol?" He just wanted to make sure Nic understood his options.
JD at TMK (15:59:09): #

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mike dilly (16:07:38): Niculaie did not shut down Felix, he was pleased that he was not giving up on Nic, even when Nic resigned to returning home with them. Niculaie could not argue his logic, though he knew little of Acheron hearing that if Mekkor truly wished it he could demand to have his acolte returned through laws of Acheron. "I am not forced to give Mekkor a reason for my return. You could be right, MEkkor might just do that, but maybe he wont. Maybe he will be content for a while." Nic did not know, it was hard to say what would happen.

Niculaie perked up when Felix spoke about perhaps not going straight to Mekkor but rather seeking aid on other fronts, to remove the fate curse. "Of course, if we could defeat this curse and I could be with Anna.. I would. If my presence was not as good as a death sentence to my son, I would not hesitate to stay." Niculaie was starting to have some hope, but was Felix willing to do this? If Mekkor found out he might consider this betrayal.:

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JD at TMK (16:30:36): The more Wyrvaust heard from the Reavers, the two of them; Gremora walked along with them not uttering a word, just listening and collecting rocks from the canyon floor as they went, the more Wyrvaust saw that the only problem with Mekkor's clan was Mekkor. Felix despite everything seemed fairly decent, Gremora was like a big kid, and Nic's heart seemed to be in the right place he just had no idea how to navigate his situation. Yet here they were, all returning to Mekkor, out of choice. They all had their own reasons, but Wyrvaust was convinced it all boiled down to fear. Then he saw a side of Felix he had suspected was there, but until now had not seen it for himself.

Felix smiled when Nic confided that he would happily stay with Marsol if he could be with his family, but his eyes gleaned and teeth were clenched behind the curl of his lips, giving him a kind of demented look. "And so your wish to return to our sire is all just smoke and... Grr..." He growled and slammed a fist against the canyon wall, knocking some dirt and rocks loose. "FUCK! FUCKIN FUCK FUCK!!" He fumed as he pounded the rocks, then he spun on Nic to poke his chest hard with his finger. "Loyalty is BEYOND your FUCKING COMPREHENSION!! You would come and go... USING our Sire, USING BEHEMOTH, for your own selfish purposes!! And leave ME in your FUCKING wake!!" He shoved Nic, but because no real harm was done, the wards did not seize him. They did flare up though and start humming. "YOU would let me betray him... to help you. Well FUCK YOU!!" Felix stormed off then, broke into a fast run down the canyon path. Gremora raced after him, still saying nothing. They were still quite a way off from the corridor.

Now before Nic could go after Felix and Gremora, Wyrvaust stepped out of the shadows and into Nic's path. His expression was perfectly sober. "Leave them be." It was not a request. His hand then grappled Nic's upper arm. "Seems the Reaver fails every test he is pit against. He has only to face Marsol now." Wyrvaust shook his head seeing the expression on Nic's face. "Is the Reaver so surprised his elder brother stooped to trickery after all he has put him through? Halfscale broke his trust... How else can he be sure of him? How else can the Raven be sure of him? He has sown distrust in many deeply plowed furrows. He spoke true. Nic knows nothing of loyalty. Perhaps the mercenary in him is imbedded too deep." Wyrvaust then tugged on his arm to compel him to walk with him back the way they had come.
JD at TMK (16:34:14): #

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mike dilly (16:44:32): Niculaie watched his brother when the culmination of what he had truly been after came to fruition and his brother, well the man he though had been his brother turned on him in a second, making declarations about Niculaie that made the Reaver want to punch his lights out. Niculaie would have always done what he could for Felix, however it seemed Felix only cared for Mekkor. Niculaie did not retaliate against Felix though just looked at him, with a complete loss of respect. Felix was dead, this was just Mekkor's will incarnate, he was one step off of being a black minion for Mekkor. Niculaie in that moment felt profound sorrow for Gremora, he would never know Felix, just that puppet he was.

Wryvaust stopped him, "Gremora, I know you have the power, save him he is still young Wryvaust. Do not let Felix destroy him!" He pleaded, he had no idea if Wryvaust would do it, but Niculaie just stopped fighting and nodded to the Demon. "I understand, I will accept whatever Marsol decides." He said and then deflated a bit.. "Perhaps you are right, perhaps I know how to be nothing but a loaded gun." Niculaie would not resist he just followed where Wryvaust would take him, a clel perhaps until Marsol was ready to deal with him?:

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JD at TMK (17:27:58): Wyrvaust scowled at Nic when he tried to convince him to seize Gremora. "He chose him. That is HIS sire. He chooses him, Nic. The lost Reaver must NOT place his shame on his brother. Wyrvaust saw Snakeson try... saw his brother betray him. Wyrvaust has no love for the Snake, but it is Snakeson's choice to be loyal to his sire, and his acolyte's choice to likewise be loyal to Snakeson. It is Nic who is confused about loyalty, not they. Now come."

Wyrvaust ushered Nic down the canyon path, phasing with him through shadows to shorten the distance until after the wardseal was crossed again. There Wyrvaust took pause and worked on the wardseal, gathering the elements through his blood, the earth and the spirit realm to channel them into his wardseal at the point they had crossed, where the energies gathered to fill any holes then spread across the rest of the perimeter to strengthen it.

Felix was not the puppet Nic believed him to be. With Mekkor he knew what to expect, he was given tasks and missions as they came up and in the meantime he was left alone to live his own life. Once in a while Mekkor needed something more personal from him, and Felix obliged him in that as well. When Mekkor had told him to go to the desert and do what he could to bring Wyrvaust back, he had also asked him to find out where Nic's loyalties lie. In that endeavor Felix had succeeded. Claiming Wyrvaust had been a long shot for Felix and Mekkor knew it. Felix had wanted Nic to come back with HIM... to want to be a part of the clan... if not for Mekkor than for himself. He loved Nic... but he had to know as much as Mekkor did if he was loyal or just playing loose with his small clan. A clan Mekkor had HOPED Felix and Nic would build on together. What saddened Felix most was that, loyal or not, Nic belonged to Mekkor, and he WAS going to demand that Marsol give him up. If Marsol refused...? Felix didn't want to think of that. The feud would just escalate and Mekkor was not about to play nice. Mekkor had warned both Felix and Nic of many things when he had made Reavers of them. Felix felt bad for tricking Nic the way he had but what choice had Nic given him? He fucking betrayed him once, spoke openly of being willing to risk him to be with his family... THAT was what had set Felix off. Nic was all about himself, fuck anyone else. Even his willingness to find a way to be with Anna placed his kid and wife at risk. He had been TOLD that. Nic was done with Felix? Felix was a puppet? Felix needed saving? Funny how the one doing all the treachery could blame the brother who had tried with all his heart to save his brother FROM himself. But Nic had gone too far drugging him and enslaving him and then in his willingness to sacrifice him, and to desert him. Did he ever once consider being with his family AND his clan? Not once. So much about Nic and what he chose said it all. Felix wasn't 'done' with Nic, but he was done trying to save him from the fate he had ordered for himself. Nic was just gonna have to find out the hard way that loyalty was everything to clan. That choosing clan was everything to their sire.

Wyrvaust finished with the wards after a little while and continued to usher Nic through shadow folds and into the lair once again. There, as they walked the cool corridors after leaving the setting sun behind them, the abyss demon addressed the Reaver who might or might not be his brother. "Not everyone has the courage to be loyal, the Raven supposes. Loyalty is often a battle that must be waged, at times with others, more often
JD at TMK (17:27:59): within ourselves. The Raven has never flagged in his loyalty to Lord Anwarr, so has difficulty understanding from any personal perspective what neutrality is truly like. But come to terms with his TRUE self Nic must, and in this his brother Felix has perhaps aided him. Perhaps that was his purpose here. Or one of them. Do NOT vow loyalty impossible for its heart to give. Dare NOT vow loyalty to Marsol when the Reaver's only loyalty is to itself. Speak only truth to him, or the Raven shall see him suffer." That said they began to descend the long stairway.

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Niculaie watched his brother leave, and so it seems he had other motivations for being here with him, to evaluate him? Mekkor had Felix sent here to evaluate his trust. So Niculaie had failed that, and that was fine he supposed, but there would be a price to pay, Niculaie was sure of that. Niculaie wondered if staying among these people had been a mistake, he thought even as he walked back with Wryvaust. He was even now causing Anna heartache, force to be separated from Gosha, forced to walk the line between family and clan, for if he chose one, he forsakes the other. Niculaie did not appreciate the tone that Wryvaust took, he had done everything he could for Marsol's kingdom, kept Anna as safe as he could manage, he not betrayed Marsol. Niculaie was tempted for sure, these immortals of such power believed it was their place to test the weak.

Niculaie's frown did not change, he gave no reason to smile not with Wryvaust talking down to him as such. "It must be easy to speak down on others when you ignore your own faults. You would have me show restraint where you lacked it, you would look down on me, call me betrayer? YOU, who has cowered here for centuries? I don't know you, I do not dare pretend I know you. How could I? All clan demons are deceitful, even Felix my brother, first born Abyssal Reaver as am I , even he was just here to test me. So do not act as if you are a being of virtue and honor. You skulk in the shadows like the rest of us, no better than the next." Niculaie was not afraid of Wryvaust, though he knew he could not best the elder demon, it did not cause him fear, the world was full of people who were more powerful than he, and there was a wider universe still after that. "How does it feel to know that us being here only serves to endanger those we love, severed from his mark we may be, but you know Mekkor will never stop, or should I say Behemoth?"

Niculaie just watched Wryvaust, expecting the elder demon to rage, but he would not be silent just yet. "Have you ever thought to end it, to return to Mekkor? I am just a whelp, but, you are something special.. Now that MEkkor will know about your special little cocktail I am sure he will desire to bring you back into his fold even more. Those we love are trapped in these warded walls, if they were to pass the thresh hold of your wards they risk being used against you. Mekkor is ruthless enough to use any means needed to retake us. Niculaie just shrugged, then wondered what Marsol might do. Marsol and Nic had been quite close once, but Marsol had pulled back from him after all that business with his angel lover. A part of Niculaie was mad at Marsol, mad that someone he had looked up to so much had neglected him. Anna had been there for him luckily. Still part of him resented MArsol a little bit, he knew it was childish to hold such negative thoughts.

"Will this take long, you think ? I still have raiders to deal with. Getting my hands dirty would help clear my head." Niculaie was feeling a certain... blood thirst right about now, and raiders were a great target. He would bring them to heel, one way or another. Assuming he isnt locked in a cell for the foreseeable future.

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Wyrvaust was nonplussed that Niculai would not show such impatience but do so by assuming he would be allowed to defend and serve Marsol's country after betraying everyone who trusted him in one fell swoop. The abyss demon cut his clan cousin a look both confounded and vexed. "Is snake'son so blind to his own deeds that he would imagine himself above the consequences of his treachery? Tell the Raven that the reaver understands and recognizes that he IS without question a traitor. For if Niculaie cannot admit, or worse, SEE that he has betrayed his comrades, then there is little hope for him. If he does understand this, then what in the wide desert makes him believe the desert's guardians will let him roam free?" Wyrvaust wished to know, eyeing him uncertainly as he waited a reply. He continued to walk with him as they conversed, heading still in the direction of the Sapphire Keep.

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Wyrvaust had seen that Nic was made comfortable in a guest chamber within the keep he had assigned to Memnoch. Once Nic reestablished trust, if he managed to thst is, he would be allowed his prior quarters in down below. Meanwhile, Nic bunked with the albino Devil. It was morning now and Wyrvaust was awake, dressed in a comfortable morning robe of bronze satin, open up the front with a pair of light weight, draw string pants underneath, his siena hairless chest bare while his long black hair hung loose except for the hip length braids which swung from his temples. He sat with his beloved wife, both of them drinking coffee over the same two books. Wyrvaust was teaching Arilwen about terromancy and chaos theory. At the moment they were taking a break and just enjoying each others company. They had been at study for hours already. After polishing off his delicious coffee and refreshing it from a pretty ceramic pot, his indigo blue eyes locked on his wife in a curious manner. "The Raven wonders what his cherished Swan thinks of Snake'son. Is he a hopeless case? He is not clear why... but bothered the Raven it did that Nic believed the Raven was blind to all his many failings and the sins which a demon make him. All too aware is the Raven of his incredible faults... and even that he is capable of deception, but never not once to Marsol has he lied, not even in the beginning, and never again to his wife or family shall he deceive. Wrong was the Raven for attempting to pass off his physical coils as his true self... wrong was his mind altogether then. Know that he shall never deign to deceive her again. Tell her he will if ever he is even tempted to do such a vile thing." He promised his wife.

Wyrvaust then leaned in close to her, taking both of her hands snugly in his own. "Leviathan speaks to the Raven still. Why...? Why does the god of angels speak to a demon to tell him the things he does? Tries to tempt the Raven he does! Is not that the devil's trade?" When asked by his wife how he strove to tempt him, Wyrvaust sank back in his seat. "Odd it is. Reminds him Yajmha does that never in his making was the Raven a choice given, that force forged every link of his demonhood, and thus claims he, switch sides the Raven and all his unclaimed kin can, says the bird king. Sworn to Marsol he is and always will be he declares, only for the bird king to insist blood alone means anything in Acheron. Insisted the Raven otherwise which amazed and irked the mighty one, for thinks his opinion infallible that one. Irked him even more when the Desert Raven's mind voice accused him of allowing himself a massive hubris." Wyrvaust shrugged and sipped his coffee but he looked a little worried which meant he was quite troubled. He had pissed off a god, after all. The god who thought himself above all other gods as the only one. He then pointed at a smooth little pebble on the floor someone had tracked in. "See if Swan can envision it into sand." He smiled, using their studies to change the subject. "If comes an enemy at his wife with a sword, would it not come in handy to the metal in it alter into sand?" he grinned.

Felix had returned to Mekkor at the lair and after explaining everything that had happened, he received a horrible berating, torture that went on he could not say how long, because the torture had resulted in a lengthy blackout, and after that; the boy reaver found himself battered, broken, and bloody on the road outside of Serhaubren. He had awakened to the sound of not so distant rumbling which he realized when his mind had cleared, was the sound of heavy impacts, massive rock mortars in fact being flung against Serhaubren's walls. Having heard that sound before in Castleguard, he knew what it was. He sat up stiffly, wincing as he did against the pain. His skin was missing in places, had been peeled from his chest, arms, thighs and face, bruises covered most of his body, even where muscle was exposed. His stomach welled up in his chest and tears spilled from his eyes, then he startled and choked back a sob as he heard the sound of many horses and the rise of quiet voices. He scurried off the road as quickly as his wounds would allow into the tall grass just in time as a large AoM cavalry division came and went. Reinforcements. Serhaubren had beat back the enemy for awhile, but a new far more brutal siege was underway. Felix didn't know what to do. He had no idea where he was yet. He just knew AoM troops were trying to batter down a wall somewhere close enough to hear it. It was dark which did not help him in figuring out where he was, but did help him hide.

Mekkor had flown into a terrible rage when he had gone to the lair and reported to him, roared that he'd had enough, that he was sick of incompetent and disloyal clansmen, vowed he was going to wipe the slate clean and start over, then told Felix he was disowned, forever, and to count himself lucky he felt SOME kind of love of for him and would let him and the other reavers live so he wouldn't be alone. Then, came the torture. It had gone on for days. The last thing Felix remembered was not pretty before he had awakened on that sandy pebble imbedded road. Gremora had been slammed into his quarters and sealed in by wards right after Mekkor had flown into a rage. It was the last Felix had seen of his acolyte. He buried his face in the cradle of his arms where he lie belly down in the tall grass and for awhile he wept quietly. Gremora might be in terrible trouble. He was now a rogue demon, rejected by his maker, up for grabs by anyone. He was in horrible pain and weak as a kitten. He was in no shape to travel, much less dodge large bands of hostiles. He was lucky he had not awakened to a ring of spears pointed at him.

When he had exhausted his layers of anguish, he collected himself as well as he could, then, he stood up cautiously. Fires dotted the landscape all around. Enemy camps and blockades no doubt. He reached for the ring which usually adorned his left hand's thumb. It was a gate ring but it was gone. His hand trembled, dripping blood and he steadied it with his other hand. His hand too, each finger, had also been skinned. He sighed then closed his eyes. Sucking in a deep breath his mind reached out to Niculaie. He was extremely weak so had to concentrate hard on what he was doing and pour a lot of energy into trying to contact his clan brother. "Nic... please... I know you're pissed at me, but I need to talk to you. It's important." He would repeat his mind speak a few more times if necessary, but wouldn't have the energy to keep trying after that. If Nic answered, the weight would be off of Felix to maintain the connection. Nic could maintain it once their minds met.

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Niculaie had thought he made it clear, Wryvaust asked something of Nic, he himself could not manage. Nic knew if some ominous shadow grew over his family he would not just allow it to have its way, every day he spent seperated from his mate the pain in his heart grew stronger, and so did the hate. He would kill those who did this to him, he would hunt them down and kill them, to the last wretched one. Niculaie might lack the age and wisdom of some of these beings he found all around him, but he was consistent, and he had a bit of skill hunting immortals. Niculaie had always kept a keen eye out for tools of his trade, he knew hunting immortals was likely the only thing he was ever going to be truly gifted at, and Mekkor only made him better at it, it was quite a boon being able to devour magic and bypass, even destroy wards.

Niculaie left Gosha in the care of his nanny for the after noon, while he spent time alone in contemplation, while he did so he found himself idly cleaning his guns, trying his best to keep his mood light, he was not mad about his new living arrangement, Memnoch was pleasant as far as roommates went, he had no complaints there. Though he did feel a bit caged in here, was it some sort of civil prison? Though he still had his affects, so it wasn't like he was being jailed, though he did wonder if he was being watched. Irritation spiked though when he felt Felix beckoning a mental link.

Niculaie almost shut him out, but decided to see what his 'brother' wanted, he wished his blood brother were here.. Alexi was truly reliable. 'Speak then, brother.. If this turns into some snake in the grass bullshit Felix.. I don't care how much older you are...' Nic stopped himself, 'This better be important, I am in no mood for games.' The reaver said, Niculaie would not be led about like some blind fool anymore.

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Niculaie had thought he made it clear, Wryvaust asked something of Nic, he himself could not manage. Nic knew if some ominous shadow grew over his family he would not just allow it to have its way, every day he spent seperated from his mate the pain in his heart grew stronger, and so did the hate. He would kill those who did this to him, he would hunt them down and kill them, to the last wretched one. Niculaie might lack the age and wisdom of some of these beings he found all around him, but he was consistent, and he had a bit of skill hunting immortals. Niculaie had always kept a keen eye out for tools of his trade, he knew hunting immortals was likely the only thing he was ever going to be truly gifted at, and Mekkor only made him better at it, it was quite a boon being able to devour magic and bypass, even destroy wards.

Niculaie left Gosha in the care of his nanny for the after noon, while he spent time alone in contemplation, while he did so he found himself idly cleaning his guns, trying his best to keep his mood light, he was not mad about his new living arrangement, Memnoch was pleasant as far as roommates went, he had no complaints there. Though he did feel a bit caged in here, was it some sort of civil prison? Though he still had his affects, so it wasn't like he was being jailed, though he did wonder if he was being watched. Irritation spiked though when he felt Felix beckoning a mental link.

Niculaie almost shut him out, but decided to see what his 'brother' wanted, he wished his blood brother were here.. Alexi was truly reliable. ~Speak then, brother.. If this turns into some snake in the grass bullshit Felix.. I don't care how much older you are.." Nic stopped himself, "This better be important, I am in no mood for games." The reaver said, Niculaie would not be led about like some blind fool anymore.

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Felix could tell Nic was pissed, but Felix had not been the only one to shatter trust. Nic had done that first and Felix was the sort who tended to retaliate. They were both guilty of causing pain and distrust to each other. Felix probably wouldn't apologize any more than Nic would, so the best they could do probably was just bury the hatchet they had taken turns wielding. "It's Mekkor... Because of my... failures in the desert, and because you never really chose sides... he has disowned us... all of us... only I don't know what's happened to Gremora. Mekkor... tossed him in a sealed room and punished me and then dumped me some place where AoM enemies are extremely active. I am in no condition to fight, my gate ring is gone, and I am sitting in the middle of a field with armies and encampments so close I could throw rocks at them. I know we had a falling out... but I have no one else to turn to, Nic. Whatever you did to me, or I did to you, we are still brothers. Please help me, Nic... I really don't wanna see what happens when AoM captures a reaver. Can you... come get me?" Nic could feel Felix's fear and tell he was weak because he had to carry their signal. If Nic relaxed the connection at all on his end he could feel his clan brother's mental voice fade. One had to be in extremely bad shape not to be able to maintain a telepathic lock when they had mastered that ability.

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Niculaie was not sure what he had expected, sure.. he had messed up with things, but... He'd had his reasons, Niculaie would never harm Felix if not for his own good! But what was past was past, Nic listened to his brothers position and kept his attitude in check, Mekkor was sure overreacting. Niculaie thought for a moment.. as mad as they were at one another, they were still brothers, he supposed. 'Can you hide somewhere? I will need to talk Wryvaust into letting me come to you, I am under lock and key at this moment, well we all are I believe... The wards are still up.' Of course Nic wondered if need be could he bybass these wards? That would have to be a last ditch effort. 'Go to ground, I will keep this telepathic link between us established, but I will need a little time. Stay out of sight.'

Niculaie then stood up and rubbed his eyes, and reached out with his mind again, on a seperate channel, to Wryvaust. 'Pardon, might we speak Raven? It is a matter of importance.' They were technically clan, even if Wryvaust was unhappy with them, he had to understand, right? Well Niculaie sure hoped so, but he supposed he would find out. If Niculaie was asked to relay his concerns via mind speak he would relay the situation as he had heard it.:

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Wyrvaust had used his blood in the ward commands when he rebuilt the wards, after the incident with Nic, making them clan wards, but had also suffused them with commands which made sure all unwanted clan members were KEPT OUT, which was tricky. The greatest weakness was in someone's ability to find a loophole around his command strings, but as far as reavers went, the wards could not be broken down or infiltrated. Wyrvaust was still at the dining room table when Nic contacted him and he answered the reaver by presenting a gate which would lead directly to him. Gilrael and Cevari had since joined he and his wife, only they were just sitting across from them, drinking desert coffee, and sharing the Hassim Daily.

The Raven greeted Nic meanwhile with a curious tilt of his head and purse of his lips. "Speak Snakeson," he invited, and when he'd heard what Nic had to say (saving some time) he looked to his wife who shook her head at him. She didn't like what she was hearing clearly. He smiled at Arilwen, patted her hand, then locked his indigo eyes on Niculaie. "I will escort the Reaver," he announced, and started to stand, only Arilwen gripped his arm.

She refused to let him go. She was sure it was a trap.

The fact that she forbid him to do something brought a smile to Wyrvaust's lips. "Careful her mate will be," he promised. "Should we leave his brother to die?" Hence he stood and Arilwen with him. That was when she insisted that she was going with him. She wasn't letting him out of her sight again.

"Hold on there," Gilriael then shot from HIS chair to protest. "Don't anyone go off half cocked to rescue the little trickster! I don't trust the boy demon who is anything BUT a boy. Yeah yeah, I know nothing about him other than he is Nic there's brother, and Mekkor's life long errand boy. But... Heh-LO-oh." He was there because Marsol wanted him to keep an eye on things. Where was Marsol? He had been Down Below, exploring his new digs with his children and Cirgoth earlier. They might all be outside by now. Neither Gilriael or Wyrvaust would disturb him unless absolutely necessary.

Before Wyrvaust could even argue with the weyrdragon, Memnoch stalked into the dining room and right up to Nic whose side he stood beside.

"Heed your wife's wisdom, Lord Aalamea. Felix is unaware of it, but he IS a trap his maker Mekkor has laid." He stopped and cackled amusedly. "Maker Mekkor, funny... he he he he." He then cleared his throat and sobered again. "It could be an opportune time to... have Mekkor visit you under your terms," he then suggested with a faint but clever smile.

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Niculaie could not say he knew everyone in attendence, strangers, but all seemed to be fond of Wryvaust. Niculaie was not exactly shy, so it was fine. He let them all say there bit as Wryvaust made it plain he was intending to join Nic on the venture, and this seemed fine to Niculaie as well.

"I can't argue that Felix is perhaps unnaturally subserviant when it comes to Mekkor, but, he seemed earnest in his need for help.. I cannot ignore it. If you want to come with me, we should take every precaution though, I imagine Mekkor is not feeling too warm and fuzzy about me, these days anyway." Niculaie wondered if it was a well crafted ruse, he knew if it was, Felix would eagerly go along with it, if Mekkor commanded it.

"Wait... is it a trap, or are we setting a trap?" Nic asked almost confused now, as he stood amoung this strange gathering of ladies and gents. "So are we all going then? Might look suspect if we all go skipping into town, Felix said it was AoM territory.." Niculaie would leave the logistics of the party to go, in Wryvaust's capable hands.:

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Well, let's be honest. Gilrael was reading the Hassim Daily. Wyrvaust's brother Cevari was making a nuisance of himself by resting his handsome chin on Gil's shoulder and trying to turn the page to the funnies. News was boring. Bugging darling Gil was much more fun. He was nearly upended when Gil shot out of his chair, but managed to right both himself and Gil's coffee before they hit the floor. Stars, but Gilriael was cute when he got all crusty about things. Reminded him fondly of the day they met. How precious.

He had finished his own coffee, so whilst Gil was distracted, he helped himself to the last of his lover's as well. What? Sharing was caring. #

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First things first... Wyrvaust needed to locate Felix. He had spoken to him telepathically before, so used his signature to get a lock on him. Then, if the area was familiar, he could identify the area, if not, he would still have a lock on him and be able to scan the area around him for life signs, or undead and spirit signs for that matter. Wyrvaust just had this look of fazing out as he did this. At length, as his scan area widened, his brows knit. Felix had not been lying... there were enemies everywhere because all he was reading all around him were large or massive clusters of life. His immediate location was between a huge cluster, an army, and a lot of smaller ones, camps.

Memnoch canted his head over when Nic asked if it was a trap, or if they were setting one. "Yes," he said and snickered, then leaned against the table. "Both. Can you be trusted to capture your own sire is the question," he asked. Nic couldn't lie to him. He already knew the answer because he either wanted him captured or didn't. Wants and desires, the same thing.

When asked if they were all going, Wyrvaust's intense gaze slid across all of them and he shook his head slowly, still thinking, unsure yet of the answer. He thought he should let Memnoch talk to Nic before deciding that.

Gilriael's gold eyes locked on Cevari just as he polished off the last sip of his coffee. "Hey you..." Damnit. That had been really good coffee. He smirked and fluffed Cevari's jet black curls until it was a crazy mess. Unlike Wyrvaust's, whose hair was straight, his brother's hair had curls. He got that from their mother. "You don't think he would expect us to distrust this situation? Expect us to send a bleeding army out to greet his spawn?" he scoffed. "If it's a trap and he thinks we would send just you and Wyrvaust, then he is stupid. Is he known for being stupid? No? I didn't think so, so why send out a small company?" He flipped Cevari's hair from behind, messing with him now.

"What he said," Memnoch interjected, pointing at Gilriael who laughed at the white devil. He was so silly sometimes.

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Niculaie looked to Memnoch and wondered for a moment... as he thought about whether he wanted to capture Mekkor or not, he could not help but note the lack of feelings he had towards the matter. "I do not care, one way or the other... I think. My contact with Mekkor has been sparse at best, he has done me no wrong, but, knowing what he has done... I can see no reason why his capture would be bad either. So if he is captured... or if not, doesnt matter to me. I do want to Secure Felix, as hard headed as he is over Mekkor, I don't want harm to come to him." Niculaie's feelings would reflect this as well, "Thats just how I feel though." He said with a shrug.. "If it is a trap, can we... take on Mekkor? If memory serves, he would likely be a formidable opponent."

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Cevari gave a loud, satisfied sigh after he finished the coffee, and then flashed those pearly whites at Gilriael in a cheeky grin. "Oh. Did you still want this?" He teased, and then yelped as his glorious curls were mussed. He captured those hands finally, when his hair was well and truly tousled. He looked as though he had been through a wind storm.

When he was certain Gil would keep his hands off the 'do, he set to smoothing his hair a bit, looking more amused than anything. While all of this was going on, he was keeping an ear perked to the conversation at hand. #

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Annandabah crouched beside a campfire using two clothes in her hands to turn a flat plate on top of a black iron skillet over so that the meal inside would brown evenly as it cooked. Bare toes sunk in the sand wiggled at the warmth as the fire itself warmed her face and her arms inside the long dark green sleeves tied to her red linen tunic dress. With her chemise being the usual white it gave that contrasting color to her sleeves and made her dress unique. If it were hot she could easily tied them up to her shoulders. Though her tunic dress had a slim fit bodice that emphasized on bust and waist, its wide skirt with 4 additional gussets drapes with soft pleats would have been enough to four grown men under. Well really it was to keep her legs warm but still. After turning over the skillet and hot plate she set the cooking clothes down in a bowl on a small rock and stood up. The skirt was hemmed with the same contrasting deep green color of fabric as the sleeves and neckline were. It was almost time to be leaving to see her son. The thought of holding him again made her heart ache and her eyes burn. Another eight minutes went by before she removed the plate covered skillet to carefully spoon out the cake inside into a wicker basket on some cloth. Basket of goodies gathered up she put on her sandals before turning to those whom she'd come to find had been some of the kindest people she'd ever met. She would invite them to dinner to introduce them to her family no doubt. The leather braided belt that hung around her waist jingled where its bit of excess bronze chain dangled down from her right hip as she moved. An ornate neck piece of four leather straps making a half circle just below the nape of her neck with coin looking pieces, some larger than others, situated here and there on the straps with amber gemstones embedded in their carved centers. Annandabah wanted to be with her family again and yet it would not be the same as it once was. Things were different now. But how so? That remained to be seen...

Marsol was pointing to something on the wall to his twin sons when that something turned its head to look at them then skittered off into a crack in the wall to hide. The tiny lizard avoided being caught for now but they were able to glimpse its vibrant colored skin and how it weirdly gripped the stone wall with its some odd toes. Not one to give up so easily he trained his eyes around them and found another small critter the same as that to point the boys to as he explained why these little guys were one of the mother deserts most beloved of creatures and that it was a teacher of boys. The second small lizard, half banded in bright red, yellow, lime green and indigo, didn't run away like the first so the twins were able to get closer to it. Although it did stick its tongue out slightly at Ardwyr when he reached for its long tail.[fin]

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Could they take on Mekkor? That was a good question and depended on a lot of things. Wyrvaust's eyes cut on Memnoch. "What kind of trap is it?" he asked.

Memnoch thought about it a moment then shrugged. "I only know he wants to use his child to trap you, Lord Aalamea. I know he wants very much to reclaim you. He hopes it will succeed, but a plan is not a desire, it is a plan."

"And the Boy Reaver... What does it want?" the demon wished to know.

"He wants to be with his two brothers... Nic and Gremora. He wants them to be a new beginning... but these wants are buried deep... uncaged only just a little because he believes his sire has released him. Even then... he dares never to hope, because if one dares, they are only crushed in the end." Memnoch apprised him in solemn tones. There was often a terrible price to pay for desire.

"Does he have any wish to return to his sire?" Wyrvaust then asked.

"He does. He cannot help that. He has been bonded since he was three." Memnoch made clear and Wyrvaust nodded that he understood.

His eyes then locked on Niculaie as he remembered the hard things he had said, about him being a coward, about him bringing the danger of Mekkor's plots and schemes to his friends, family and king. "The Raven should go alone. He can handle this..."

Gilriael folded his arms across his muscular chest and scowled. "That is NOT going to happen. Marsol forbids it." The fair skinned elf with the silky platinum spun hair spoke for Marsol because he KNEW his chieftain would never allow him to go alone. "I forbid it. And I can tell you how we can defeat whatever trap he has laid. Let me pop in and gobble Felix up. I wont chew, just swallow, and bring him back here in my gut, nice and cozy." He grinned. Was he joking? Not even a bit. He winked at Cevari and patted his shoulder. The Abyss Stalker had nothing to worry about. Gilriael wasn't about to let anything happened to his big brother. Marsol would have his hide if he did!

Stupid as it sounded, the idea made Wyrvaust smile and his eyes glean. "Yes... a fine idea that." He liked it. "The raven from shadows will cast a shield around Elder Snakeson. Goldscale the demons eat. A fine, fine idea."

"Powers can fail," Gilriael reminder the old demon. "A spell bomb or scroll would be better." He suggested and trained his gaze on Cevari. "Got a Prison of Flesh scroll or spell bomb?" A spell bomb was like a potion you threw or smashed to break the bottle and release the spell. Both had their advantages and disadvantages but were more of a sure thing than raising and channeling power.

Now in that beautiful little mountain campsite where Anna had made those delicious cakes over the fire, four figures appeared from out of the shadows and with them came Dantes. The youthfully handsome demons approached Anna as she prepared to leave, and embraced her tight. He had missed her while held captive by Wyrvaust. Those with him were some of Wyrvaust's guards, among them Magrymed. They were there to make the exchange. Mendorin himself embraced Anna warmly, patting her back, and when he stepped he honored her with a faint smile.

In the Lonely Deep Mountains---

"I missed you..." Dantes wanted her to know. "I will never forget our walks... when we went camping... The run in we had with the Vengoath," He admitted the laughed at the later. The canibals had been puddy in her hands. "I am sorry I had to leave..." He had a massive crush on her which she had never reciprocated. "I'm sorry you have to leave us now..." Were his feelings for her genuine, or contrived for some plot? They were actually genuine. Her being there in the first place had all been on Dantes. It had been him who had seen the vision in Mendorin's oracle. He who had come to warn her of the danger to her son, her family, and even herself. He who had kidnapped her to keep it all from happening as he had seen it. A selfless act? No, he had fallen for her just seeing her in that vision. Wanted her for his own... but her heart was already gone... lost in another.

A gate was then opened and her escorts motioned for her to enter. Grym she would recognize at least. If that wasn't good enough for her, they had brought Marsol's ring with them.

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When the boys were looking at that even more colorful lizard, Cirgoth leaned back against the canyon wall. "Sometimes its the ones that don't run away from you have to be careful of... Maybe he is so brave because he's poisonous, or has magical powers, woooooo." and he flitted his fingers at the two. He looked over at Marsol. "Your father didn't run away from me, oh no." He smiled at the dragon packed into that sexy man. He missed him... but he wasn't sure if Marsol's heart wasn't still elsewhere. It worried and saddened him. He tried not to let the twins see his worries though. As for Marsol... he slept in the same bed with him, but he pushed nothing. Because he had taken off like he had... he was afraid he might have lost him. He was just trying to find out if he had... or if Marsol's heart was still his.

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Niculaie was not sure what was going on anymore, but he was curious why Wryvaust suddenly wanted Nic not to go with him, it was curious to the reaver. He was worried of course that there might indeed be some trap, what was going on... "So you don't want me to go with you now?" Nic had no idea what he had said had so deeply cut Wryvaust, it would have to be dealt with, at some point. After all, to Niculaie this was his home, his family. Though some of these faces were quite new to him. "What should I do? anything?" He asked curiously, though if he was told to do nothing, he supposed he could manage that.. but .. "Did I hear someone say they were going to eat.. Felix?" He thgought he heard that, maybe it was wrong.:

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Gilriael flashed a grin at Nic when he asked if someone said they planned to eat Felix. "I said it," Gilriael waved at him. "But don't worry, I won't hurt him. Like I said, I'll swallow, not chew." And what about the fires in his belly? Hell, the stomach acid? The shield they planned to use would protect him from all that.

Wyrvaust cut his dark blue eyes on Nic. "If this plan of the Snake is to recapture all his clansmen, then at least Snakeson shall be out of his reach. Stay Nic shall, or Wyrvaust stay..."

"I vote for Wyrvaust to stay," Gilriael sang out. "AND Nic..." who he didn't trust, never had because of his clan swinging. "Cevari knows how to use scrolls, he can go with me." He nudged Cevari's arm, nudge nudge, volunteer to go with me now, nudge nudge.

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There were three cakes made altogether with handmade fruit glaze in the middle that sat cooling in baskets on a nother bigger rock about waist high. Turning her blue eyes upwards she smiled as she wiped her hands quickly on the apron hanging from her ring belt then hugged these new friends as tightly as she could. Given that she was shorter and kinda armpit height for anyone standing six foot or taller. Though it was not an awfully long time that she'd been staying with them, when Mendorin gave her such a small smile she gave him a brighter one in return. It was her way of trying to reassure him for whatever might be troubling his mind. Now as Dantes spoke she tugged him by his hands over to the larger rock by the fire where she uncovered one of the baskets to hold for Mendorin's inspection first then Dantes. "Nor will I Lord Dantes, I still have the blisters to prove it you know." Laughter bubbled up out of her as she set the basket back down so that the cake could finish cooling and the glaze thicken. Anna did recognize Grym but not the other guards. It did much to alliviate her apprehension about going with them when they produced her fathers ring for her to see. "You make it sound as if we will never see one another again." At that she shook her head with a smile firmly in place. "I would have you come with me, meet my family over dinner, see where the sun makes makes oceans of the sands. Will you join me for dinner? I'll take no refusal." Using the same tone she'd used on those canibals Anna clucked at them like a mother hen. In her mind she thought they would fit right in with her family. Why there was so much they could teach one another. Though her escorts motioned for her to come she waited where she stood next to Dantes and Mendorin, and the baskets of cake, like a fiery red haired determined mongoose. She honestly thought inviting the two over for dinner was a wonderful idea. Though when it became clear that this very well might be the last time she ever saw them her smile begun to fade. Glancing from one to the other she squinted up at them. Reaching up she laid a hand to each of their upper arms to squeeze gently. "Come to dinner. I would be overjoyed to have you as my guests. Please."

Marsol waggled his eyebrows when the twins looked at Cirgoth then to him, as if to reiterate what Cirgoth had said. But between Cirgoth's words and Marsol's waggle the twins ended up laughing. The little lizard became curious then and crept from its perch to hop onto the back of Ardwyr's right shoulder and flicker its tongue at his brother. Marsol chuckled as Ardwyr made a face from how sticky feeling the lizard's paws felt on his thin shirt but that just amused his brother whom tried to stand next to him so the lizard would crawl onto his shoulder next. Which it did. Although slowly. Marsol lifted his amber gaze towards Cirgoth as he himself lowered to sit with his back against a white pillar which would soon be warmed by his very body heat. "It was you who tried to fly from me." A small smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he watched their sons play out of the corner of his eye with their new found pet. "The males are poisonous." The twins looked at Cirgoth then. "But that one is female." Marsol chuckled again as the boys then asked Cirgoth what name should she have, as if they'd already decided to keep her.[fin]

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Mendorin and Dantes exchanged looks when Anna invited them to dinner, then Dantes smiled and took Anna's hand in his own. "We would be honored if Lord Marsol agrees to have us." A breath of laughter escaped Mendorin but then he capped it. That would be the day. Even if one were to strike the fact that it had gotten out that he was Mekkor's proxy, he was sure it would be a cold day at the lake of fire before Marsol ever welcomed them for supper. Dantes tried to snag some of that cake. He LOVED her campfire cake.

Now while they were all trying to decide things... Felix lay belly down in the tall grass not far off the road, as once again, enemies passed. It was a bigger batallion this time. He was getting worried. It had been awhile since Nic told him to wait and lay low. He was bleeding all over the place and he heard something out in the tall grass. "Nic... if you can hear me... I think there is a lion out there... and he might smell me... please hurry." He didn't actually have the strength anymore to reach out to Nic. He just had to hope Nic had kept a mental lock on him.

Cirgoth breathed in the warm air and just relaxed as he watched the twins getting to know that pretty little lizard. It was funny to think that it was a very distant cousin to them. It was completely unafraid of them. Friendly he would say. His eyes shifted to lock on Marsol when he pointed out who had been the one to fly away. "I would never fly far from you though... Never," he promised and smiled back at him. "A name, eh?" He thought about it a few moments. "How about... Mabel?" He laughed at the distasteful expressions they made. "Um... what about Tina? Because she is so tiny next to you mighty dragons." He grinned.

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She caught the look between them and became confused by it. Was it something she said? Or maybe they had no clothing appropriate for dinner? But she didn't care about fancy clothes, expensive jewelry, and the like. To her they looked dashing for dinner with her family. His hands felt much cooler to hers after she'd been poking around the campfire for so long. "Good." The triumphant quality in her smile could have been comical if it weren't for the sad truth that she simply didn't know how much she asked of them, and of Marsol. Anna was quick to lightly swat at his hands when he Dantes attempted cake theivery. "They are still hot and noooo you must wait. Those are your desserts. Yours is the red one Dantes. Lord Mendorin yours is purple." The way she got the color of the cakes to be so vivid was by making paste of certain berries which were used to dye the batter. Very easy process. However, very messy too. Anna's hands were dyed 5 different colors and she had a smear of green up the side of her face where she'd wiped the back of her hand on her cheek an hour ago.

Marsol narrowed his eyes on the small lizard then like a hawk. Then he too relaxed where he sat with a hand coming up to his chin to itch at his stuble. By this time tomorrow it would be a full beard again unless he shaved or burned it off. "Tiny Tina is pregnant. Those pockets in her belly you feel, those are her little ones still sleeping." Shifting to cross his legs indian style he leaned forward for a piece of wood lying on the ground and retrieved his hunting knife from the band of his pants to begin carving into it. Something he had not done in a long time. "They have grown so much."[fin]

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Niculaie was unaware of Anna's incoming arrival, he would have been thrilled to even see her, she had been away from him for some time, although he knew he had to keep his distance, it was.. not going to be easy.. Niculaie however just scratched his head, "Seems a bit jarring to swallow up someone, he might not be willing.. though I suppose he isnt in shape to resist much." Nic said and sighed, letting his mind reaching out to Felix. ~Soon brother, I promise.~ Niculaie then cleared his throat.. "Felix thinks there might be a a lion prowling near by.." Niculaie offered to them, after all seemed they were losing of track of the matter!:

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Dantes laughed when Anna swatted his hand away and caught her slender waist in his powerful arms to spin her around until she was laughing uncontrollably and put her back down ginger as a sparrow. Anna's escorts then gave the two demons a demonstrative look at what time Mordantes clasped both of Anna's hands in his with a tender warmth he had never shown another. "It's time for you to go." He urged her. "If you ever fall out of love with that husband of yours, or find yourself in trouble, you know where to find me." He had never made a secret of having fallen in love with her, nor had he ever forced the issue, just let her know he stood as an option who would love her faithfully. The where he spoke of was a lovely mountain cabin they had taken her to and stayed with her in once they had convinced her of the importance of separating herself from Niculaie.

They had proved to her by consulting multiple, reliable oracular sources in her presence, all of whom confirmed and reconfirmed, that if she were in Niculaie's presence for any duration, it would result in Gosha's death. And if they attempted to circumvent the child's fate by any means other than separation of Niculaie and Anna, and Anna from residing with the child (brief visits they had discovered if kept under four hours wouldn't compromise Gosha) then many perhaps including Gosha WOULD die. The perpetrator of this fate was unknown, or not someone any oracle they had consulted was willing to give up, because doing so would result in great loss of life, but they all agreed that a female was involved, and that Ariela had put the entire thing into motion with her attack on Anna and Gosha.

Now the actual location of Mendorin's mountain lair was unknown to Anna because of the 'Shroud' woven into the wards which concealed the lair's location from sight, divination, senses, detection, the supernatural and mind. Mendorin had always been very secretive about his haven. He wanted a place he could truly relax and his haven was it. He and Mekkor shared this in common.

Dantes' gaze followed Anna as her four guardsmen ushered her through the earth gate, and when she was gone Dantes kicked the ground scattering moss, dirt, and pebbles. "That's the last I'll see of her." He tried to accept.

"Oh, I wouldn't be so sure about that." Mendorin said to his lovesick acolyte.

Dantes shook his head grievously. "I can't bear clinging to false hope." He growled and stalked away into the mountain wilderness. Mendorin sighed. He had warned his son not to let himself fall for her, but the heart had a will of its own.

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Cirgoth arched his auburn brows when Marsol mentioned the lizard was expecting. He chuckled and stooped down then started to say something when he was struck by a vision which made his stomach cramp miserably and his heart sink so low he felt sick. He lost his balance and plopped back on his ass. "She is pregnant," he guttered then slapped a palm over his mouth as he choked back a sob. He was seeing a lot of things, as one thing linking to another, one domino falling on another. "We have to stop them!" He then nearly shrieked and found himself shaking Marsol by his shoulders. He had completely forgotten himself. "Tell the Morning Star not to let him have his daughter. She is carrying your children!" Was he being selfless? Well he was thinking of Marsol. His offspring meant the world to him and if he found out Sammael harmed them? Well that would be the end of it, in a very bad way, wouldn't it? So he was also thinking of himself and their children, Wyrvaust, Arilwen, and hell, everyone. Marsol might be lost to them all if he went up against Sammael and lost. Angels tended to trump dragons.

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Wyrvaust had made the exchange between Anna and Dantes as he had mentioned he was trying to arrange. He had done so discreetly because of the circumstances. Nic would know when Marsol wished to inform him.

The Desert Fox was in agreement that they had taken long enough to decide who was going to collect Felix, and made his brother blink as he snatched the containment scroll he had produced from his hand. With no further comment the chaosian abyss demon cracked open the wards and pointed at Nic and Gilriael then walked into the shadows which had gathered in front of him. No one but Nic and Gilriael was able to follow them because the fissure he had made was for selective passage, i. e. those two others he had chosen to go with him. Arilwen was infuriated when she found herself bouncing off the wards as she tried to dash after them. Wyrvaust knew he would be scolded by her if not Marsol when he returned.

Now almost the instant they arrived Wyrvaust read the scroll, named his target as Felix and unleashed that shield of containment on the injured reaver, but before Gilriael, who had shifted into dragon form as he'd entered Wyrvaust's gate, could snap Felix up, he was blasted with a stunning shockwave which even at his huge size hurled him backwards and knocked him flat. Seeing a dragon get plowed over was not a sight one met with every day. By the time he'd recovered Niculaie (if he'd gone with them) and Felix would be gone, sucked into a seizure gate also meant for Wyrvaust. It was a contingency gate trap triggered by the shield cast on Felix. Any power, even a healing spell or gate would have activated it. It was clan power so couldn't be reaved. Contingeny powers almost ALWAYS succeeded if their terms were met. Memnoch's powers however superceded even conditional forces which was why he could even circumvent fate itself.

Wyrvaust was still left standing there because he was protected by his benefactor Memnoch from anything that could result in his or his immediate family's harm, meaning Arilwen and their children which now included Nuni and their unborn child. Mekkor had no intention of harming Wyrvaust, but Wyrvaust might have forced his hand, or Arilwen may have come to harm if Wyrvaust had been captured, or the Raven may have simply suffered further emotional harm had Mekkor gotten his hands on him. Whatever the case, Wyrvaust remained, and he was quite unhappy with the circumstances and himself. He had believed their plan had been a sound one. Not for the first time he had underestimated Mekkor. Gilriael shifted back into his elvish form as he picked himself back up, groaning and shedding quite a few red and black scales in the process and walked over to Wyrvaust as they heard the hurried hoofbeats of enemy cavalry. Their activities had attracted attention. The two glanced at each other then ducked inside the shadow gate Wyrvaust had left open and it dissipated after them. Gilriael was fully nude when they returned to the lair dining room. He didn't appear shy about it either. He did manage to distract Arilwen for a moment who blushed at the sight of him. He was quite the striking figure.

Arilwen did not however overlook the stunt Wyrvaust had pulled for very long and stalked over to him and punched his shoulder. THAT was how upset with him she was. It was the first time she had ever struck him. "Wyrvaust Dumhal Aalamea!" and she called him by his full name. "If you ever, EVER leave this sanctuary without me again, I SWEAR I will find a way to CHAIN YOU TO MYSELF!! And I WILL find a WAY!!" she lit into him. Wyrvaust had never seen her that mad. "I am at greater risk when you leave, do you know WHY? Because if something happened to you I would risk everything to FIND YOU YOU STUBBORN ASS!!"

Wow. Wyrvaust just stared at her dumbfounded. He never knew how angry she was capable of becoming. And was she ever amazing when she was pissed. Wyrvaust swallowed a knot in his throat. He wanted her so badly at that moment. "The Raven vows... he shall not leave without his wife again," he vowed and he meant it. He had not considered the danger he placed her in when he separated himself from her. He would rather her get in trouble with him than without him. "If she can stand the Raven's face at all times, he shall not deprive her of it." He added with a faint smile.

Felix and Niculaie (if he had gone) meanwhile found themselves in familiar quarters... Felix's chamber within Mekkor's swamp sanctuary. It was a massive tower, an ancient hollowed out tree actually, so ancient in fact that it was petrified into stone, and yet, it was still intact as a tree, some of its branches forming wings and chambers. It was heavily warded without saying, but neither the wards or the tree keep were detectable. Was it any wonder that Mekkor and Mendorin shared the same tricks? The chamber the two reavers were in was sealed but comfortable. The wards began to immediately heal Felix by Mekkor's command.

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Niculaie of course would go, after all he had told Felix he was coming. Nic had no idea what would happen, but it did not matter at this point, he had to do what he could to help Felix, otherwise who knew what would happen to him at the hands of the Army of Man. Niculaie was surprised he had decided Niculaie could come, but he understood the elder demons reasoning in the matter, but was surprised none the less. Niculaie would not hesitate though in coming he was quick to follow, the second in after Wryvaust.

When they arrived Niculaie moved to help calm his brother, after all there was the business about eating him so he needed Felix calm, right? It didn't matter, Niculaie felt the heated kiss of power as it burst to life, and then he was felt himself on a hard stone floor, Felix close at hand, "The fuck.." He pushed himself up to his knees and looked around to see Felix making a speedy recovery, well.. he was healing at any rate. "Felix.. FELIX!" Niculaie could feel his anger returning to him, was Memnoch right then? A trap? Niculaie supposed if he was once more in his sire's presence he should prepare himself for an epic beating, if Felix's earlier condition was anything to go on.:

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Felix sat up with a groan when Nic started yelling his name. "The heh...." his eyes then darkened and cut on Niculaie to lock on him and he pushed himself up to his feet. He smirked slightly. Felix was not at home at the moment. "There you are, Niculaie. I am afraid I had to take things into my own hands since Felix was having such a hard time of it. I hated having to deceive him as I did, but it was necessary in order to get you both home safely." The way he spoke and even the tones he used made it clear that it was not Felix speaking, but Mekkor. "I had hoped Wyrvaust would be coming with you but it's becoming more clear to me now why Felix found my objectives for him such a daunting task. I see you are upset. I expected that much, but can you not understand why I might have reasons to be disappointed and angry with you and Felix? I understand you think I have neglected you, well that has ended. You will be neglected by me no more. I thought I was doing you a favor, but I see now it was a mistake. My vision for this clan shall come to fruition if we all have to die trying." He smirked again, only the amusement shining in his eyes was a clever variety. "I will return Felix to himself as soon as I can shed this containment spell. Seems to be trapping me inside of my eldest living acolyte."

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Niculaie caught on pretty quick to what was happening, after all in a world where people can turn into dragons, a simple possession should be easy enough, right? "Well, I guess they were right.. Your favorite son, Wryvaust saw through your trap, which is why I guess he is not with us." Niculaie looked into the eyes of Mekkor, after all Felix was gone, down the rabbit hole somewhere. "Neglect? I suppose you could say that, sure.. You have given me gifts, I cannot say you are all bad. I only have the horror stories to go off of, after all." Niculaie wondered what his endgame was though, he seemed so determined. "You had to know the chances of Felix capturing Wryvaust were slim, yet you didn't hesitate to punish him for it. Even with my help, we never really stood a chance. Why do you want him so bad, you cannot have him as he is, you will need to stiffle Wryvaust, and after you dominate and force him to love you.. he will never freely do it, it's folly." Niculaie would not cower before his sire, after all he was under the assumption that he was already in deep, so he decided what the hell. "The only thing I want, you cannot give me. Unless you have the power to twist fate, which I do not think that you do. What is it you want of me exactly, I have very little to offer, all I ever wanted was to be Anna's husband, and Gosha's father. I have no aspiration for power, no megalomaniacal tendencies." Niculaie was really curious after all.:

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Mekkor paced a little in that form which still felt so stiff. "I can only imagine the Raven is not with us because Memnoch has poised himself as his benefactor. Nothing short of him failing to show up and act could have prevented his capture." He was quite sure of that. He didn't seem the least bit put off by Nic's blunt address. In fact, he shrugged. "I had to try, surely you can see that, Niculaie. He is my blood. And now I come to find he can destroy my mark? And what's more, that Haman seeks him as an agent? That's right, Haman is trying to recruit him. Which is... unheard of. Haman has ever only recruited TWO Achonians in all its time and both of them were Haman's own before they fell. So why Wyrvaust? It is an important question that MUST be answered for the sake of Acheron."

Felix, rather Mekkor sighed deeply and went to pour a couple of drinks for Nic and himself. It was one of earth's finest, distilled in Russia. "I see now that he may be out of my reach... at least for the time being. I am powerful, but Memnoch is... well let us just say that what he can do is pure. Shy of killing him, which I would never attempt, he is brethren, there is nothing I know of that can challenge his patronage."

His eyes sliced on Nic when he spoke of the only things which mattered to him. "One of the reasons I brought you here was because of your heart's dismay. Fate is not in my realm of expertise, but I DO know those who CAN shift fate... the only problem is that in attempting such a grand feat, the fates themselves would be angered... well the proper term would be unbalanced. The fates are not actual beings, but a universal state. It is as real and viable as we. The fates are a series of events and circumstances that are so deeply lodged in the universal structure that they are permanent and immutable MOST of the time, but... there are those, a very rare few, who can uproot these circumstances and liberate those events so they become changeable. The Lord of Hell is one such person. But he would never risk upsetting the balance over something so... well in his eyes, insignificant as bringing a couple of lovers together. He would never even upset fate for his own love interests. Yajmha is another, who is even less likely and accessable. The others I know of would expect something in return. I doubt you would be willing to pay the price.... But I will pass on their offers. I did vow to help you with your troubles after all. The first would want your soul. As your soul is now free of me since my mark was removed I cannot stop you if you agree. The other requires something just as frightening to part with, your will and body when it suits them to take control, cohabitation of any body you occupy and command of your will so they might take over smoothly. What you are asking... is for someone to undo fate... unbalance the universe. Such a thing does not come cheap. These are the only options available to you. I was very thorough in my search."

"As for what I want of you..." He got around to addressing. "I expect your loyalty. We discussed loyalty and clan when I offered to remake you. I have upheld my end, and apparently you have not. I only agreed to make you what you are and to provide what you needed to master yourself. I provided myself, Felix and the tome. For a time I had the execution of my flesh and bone to recover from. Meanwhile, your choices led you far away from your brother... to the desert, earth and back again. His location never deviated, despite how difficult residing in Hawker's... excuse me, Castleguard became for him. But I did not bring you here to point fingers. I brought you to make your options crystal clear. You can either choose to pledge your loyalty to me, or be unmade and set free of me and my clan. I shall offer Felix the same, and Gremora as well. I thought long and hard about this. You I made the choices clear to... I should just destroy you for all your flip flopping and excuses, the old me certainly would. Felix... he never had ANY choice. He I simply claimed. Gremora... well he is new to this world and Felix befriended him and gained his trust and loyalty. I will NOT however, and NEVER shall, have MY creations running wild in the world. My clan and their deeds are MY responsibility. Make your choice, Nic, for it WILL absolutely BE final. As for what I shall give in return... If you NEED advice, you have only to call on me, AS I stated BEFORE... unless a physical or final death immures me, I am a thought away. In event of a corporeal death, I WILL return. That IS as it has ALWAYS been since I MADE you. Do not blame me for YOUR aloofness of ME. Now, there it is, final offer, more generous than you can imagine, take it or leave it." He sat in a deep arm chair. There was a matching pair with a table between them. He passed the time taking sips of the vodka as he gave silent pause to Niculaie.

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Arilwen had become a bit of a coffee fiend since Wyrvaust had begun having it imported. Rich, strong brews. Some smooth, some so strong she swore a sip would grow hair on her chest. She loved to blend hers with cream thickened with honey, as she did now, circling her spoon in her stoneware mug while she and Wyrvaust studied. She had a book with a worn leather cover that was filled with her own elegantly written notes, and she took a swallow of coffee before jotting down another line. She had been taking her studies seriously since that heated night in bed where Wyrvaust had tempted her. She HAD the capability of learning these powers. She had just never been given the opportunity. She laid her pen in the fold of her book and polished off her coffee before turning in her chair to focus on the pebble he pointed out to her. Hands in her lap, Arilwen drew in a breath, then sat dead silent for a moment. As she slowly released her breath, the pebble trembled, then began crumbling into sand. Such tiny victories, but the Swan grinned at her husband. She would not downplay such accomplishments. "It helps for me to imagine it as a fluid bit of stone."

Snakeson. Arilwen's smile faded. "What do I think? I think that he needs to be stripped of all bonds and perhaps given a chance to start over. If one is owned by Mekkor, I do not trust them in our home." Arilwen was more cut and dry about the matter. Shed any threats against them to eliminate the risk. It was harsh, but sacrifices were necessary. ....she herself had made a huge sacrifice to ensure that six other possible threats did not enter their home.

Soon others began to join them and Arilwen closed her book for now, standing to take coffee mugs from the tray on the table so that she could fill them and hand them out. Cevari made her grin while he sidled up to Gilrael to hurry him past the news. Peeking into the small stone pitcher, she realized that she had drained the cream. "Let me fetch more." She bent to kiss Wyrvaust on the cheek, her breasts nearly tumbling from her thin silk slip of a dress. Dark red it was and low cut in the front and back, setting her gracefully bare spine and her ever-swelling breasts on display. Off to the kitchen she swept.

The Swan returned with a cold pitcher of cream to find Niculaie speaking to Wyrvaust....and her husband responding about escorting him. She put the pitcher down on the table so hard that the milk nearly sloshed over the edge. "The Raven will do no such thing." She warned, passing a look between them both. The Raven showed compassion, so Arilwen allowed a little. "Then I will go with you."

Gilrael backed her on this, pointing out WHY this was all a bad idea. Memnoch followed shortly after, heeding against danger. Arilwen's dark, sculpted eyebrow raised. Obviously this plan could not happen.EVERYONE was against it.

And yet, the Raven suddenly sprung open a ward and the three were gone. Arilwen tried to dart after them, but was forced back because she was not on the list. She howled in anger, clenching her fists, her face nearly the same shade as her dress. She paced the dining room, stewing and worrying and cursing until the gate crackled to life. She turned to unleash hell on Wyrvaust, only to see his flaxen-haired tribesman and honorary brother as naked as she had ever seen him. That threw off her tirade and she blushed. Looking away, she cleared her throat and waited until her husband stepped through. Tirade resumed. She howled in anger as she stormed up to him and hit him for the first time ever. She wanted to pummel him but managed to refrain. His full name blasted from her lips... "Wyrvaust, Dumhal, Aalamea... NEVER AGAIN. NEVER. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?!" Anyone else in the room was silent. The Swan's feathers were obviously ruffled. Her face was red, veins snaking up her throat, her words spitting fire.

His promise took some of the wind out of her sails. She huffed a laugh of disbelief and reached to cup his face. "God's be damned, my husband asks if I can stand his face." A deep growl in her throat as she pressed against him. She was surprised to feel his excitement press against her. "I take your promise to heart." She said, her voice low and thick. All of that anger had her heated. Nipples straining the red fabric of her dress, she dug her nails into Wyrvaust's hark hair and kissed him hard enough to bruise any typical mouth. When she broke free her gaze shot to the Raven's naked dragon guardian... then to his handsome brother Cevari, and anyone else in the room. "LEAVE US." It wasn't up for debate. Not waiting for a response, Arilwen slid her hand down the front of Wyrvaust 's drawstring pants to grip his excitement, using force to push him to the dining hall table.

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Wyrvaust had not disagreed about Nic, but he did inform Arilwen that he had rid both Niculaie and Felix of Mekkor's marks and domination. Destroying the marks of demons was unheard of, yet Wyrvaust HAD the means. Proof that his mind was still somewhat undermined lie in the fact that he had USED those means to 'cure' Nic and Felix of Mekkor, thereby giving away a monumental secret. It was the first Arilwen had heard of it. Before they could discuss it though, Nic had contacted him, made his way there and all the rest that followed. Wyrvaust clearly needed supervision, which was what Memnoch was there for. He had to let Wyrvaust make his own mistakes though or he would never learn anything. Memnoch had protected Wyrvaust and his family however from any backlash that might arise from those moments when Memnoch was NOT conveniently around or willing to advise him against such actions.

Wyrvaust was not sure if he had pushed his wife too far this time, or if it was the pregnancy, or even that fine coffee his brother Cevari came by as a merchant, but he had never seen her quite like this before. He was relieved that she accepted his promise, because he was dedicated to upholding it. The thrill which ebbed through his body at the almost animal thickness of her voice, the way she gripped his muscles, especially when her fingers wrapped his loins had his lips parting to gasp vocally at the air and the muscles in his abdomen coiling ever so tightly. He was a gonner when she shoved him down on the dining room table to scatter empty coffee cups, and these were large, heavy cups, and the stoneware saucers they had been sitting on, as well as the silver spoons, and knock that pretty yellow tea-pot with the blue wild flowers painted in glaze by Inisai artisans over with a clatter. He had never seen her quite this carnally dominant, though she was often a tigress in bed, but not only did he not mind, he was exhilerated by her sexual zeal. He groaned deeply in response to her advances, the delicious clawing at his sienna brown flesh, and his long fingers and cool palms (abyss demon) groped and kneaded her as if he were trying to claim every bit of her with his touch. Meanwhile he kissed her back deeply as physically possible, his hunger for her a rival to her own. His hands meanwhile came to tear at the thin layer of silk she was wearing to expose those swollen breasts she had tempted him with earlier along with that beautiful fair and creamy smooth flesh of hers. His lips traveled from her mouth to her throat, her shoulders and her breasts. She tasted like the nectar of exotic flowers and every pleasure she felt pulsed through her and into him like a symphony building up note by blissful note. At length her touch became so lascivious that his lips broke from her and he laughed manically. What he said to her through his laughter wasn't something he thought about, it just came spilling out of him. "Swan... most cherished beloved incredible Swan... if she can melt a stone and this heart... she can melt mountains... She is so much more powerful than the mate who is so very amazed she is his...oh gods... he is her slave..." That last bit was a deep, prolonged growl of fathomless lust. He tried to roll her over but she pinned him and he laughed then ground against her and raised upward to meet her lips with a magnificently sultry and famished kiss.

The bardic weyrdragon who stood naked in that spectacularly fair Maelvannor body stood now holding hands with Wyrvaust's much darker skinned brother Cevari to arch a brow when Arilwen took command of Wyrvaust in err... various ways. Gilriael's grip on Cevari's hand tightened as the beautiful matron slung Wyrvaust down as if all six foot seven of him weighed nothing to her five foot seven lithe but swelling figure. Since going into danger her husband had grown taller by four inches and even more muscular. He was still demonically buffed up. Gilriael was already thinking of songs he could write about HER, just based on what he was seeing here. Cevari shoved back the head of black curls which he but not Wyrvaust had inherited from their mother and pulled Gilriael towards the exit by that hand grapling his own. Seemed those two were not the only ones getting excited. The nude Gilriael could hide nothing of the lusts suddenly surging through his own body.

Gilriael and Cevari had not even... 'done it' yet. Gilriael was a creature of deep and devoted heart who wanted to make sure Cevari was 'the one'. They were very different. Cevari was a merchant who loved his creature comforts, who loved money and had a great deal of it. Gilriael was a poet, an artist and a dragon, one of simple tastes and needs who was content sleeping beneath the stars in a worn out tunic and patched up pants. What did they share in common aside from being gay? (Which Neffari and most Dragons were opposed to, though Maelvannor could care less, just another way they differed from their surface dwelling cousins. Marsol like Gilriael was an exception among dragons when it came to appreciating males as a male.) Cevari had a great appreciation for art and poetry. He loved to sing, played several instruments and did so well and Gilriael was a bard so in that they were peas in a pod. Gilriael loved to drink and Cevari made fine homemade liquor. Gilriael loved to eat and Cevari was an excellent campfire cook. Gilriael loved the desert and the outdoors and Cevari traveled the desert and wilderness areas in his merchant caravan. Gilriael believed they WERE perfect for each other. He had even come to love that heavenly bed in Cevari's caravan, which he had shared with him... just to snuggle and sleep, but... he was afraid of getting his heart ripped out, and was... well not sure how to initiate.

Gilriael had been a young member of Marsol's tribe when Sammael had captured and kept him as a sexual slave about two hundred years ago, during one of Sammael's darker times which had not been so long ago actually... Sammael had enjoyed him for just a little over a hundred years, so sex for Gil was... well scary. But... at the same time... he craaaaaaaved it... wanted it so bad... Marsol had been the one to rescue him from Sammael about a hundred years ago. Gilriael had been with Sammael for about one hundred years by that time. Sammael had never marked Gilriael. He had enjoyed using other means to keep him. Forceful, clever, manipulative, possessive, persuasive, physical, frightening methods. Wyrvaust was not the only one who'd had strong desires for Marsol, yearned to be fucked delirious by him. Gilriael had also longed to be his, but Marsol had never gone there with him any more than he had with Wyrvaust. Now here Gilriael was being led away naked by his hand, and his heart was hammering in his chest and his large phallus was fully erect as they walked down the corridor.

Memnoch meanwhile stood there as long as he dared, head canted over, pale lime eyes devouring the two, his own loins throbbing, until Arilwen yelled a second time for him to get out. "I was really hoping I could join..." He grinned only to duck as a coffee cup went flying towards him and then over his head. "Alright, alright," he got the message and withdrew through the door opposite the one Gil and Cev had exited through, heading to the kitchen and the garden outside beyond.

Anwarr and Nuni had just left Nuni's room together a short time ago and were heading for the dining Hall when Anwarr yapped and covered Nuni's eyes as Cevari and a very naked and sexually charged Gilriael came stalking down the stone tunnel. "What the...?" Anwarr breathed after they had passed and turned a corner, his eyes following them until they were gone, then shaking his head he lowered his hand from Nuni's face, and he had done his best NOT to let her push his hand away, and the two continued on their trek to the dining room. The door had been left open much as the few inside had taken leave in such a hurry. Anwarr and Nuni came to a dead stop outside the door gawking drop jawed at the sight of their parents. Anwarr was so shocked this time he forgot all about protecting the innocence of his sister's eyes. His hold on her hand had tightened though, quite a bit. How long they stood there before Arilwen noticed them and telekinetically slammed the door in their faces neither of them could have said. Did Arilwen even know she could do that? Well, she could and just did, both doors in fact and they were kinetically locked tight. The two youngsters stood staring at the door for some time afterwards. Anwarr could not have drug his eyes away if he had wanted to. He was a teenager now and was quite interested in sex. He was still in love with Anna. All he could think was... I want to do THAT with Anna... oh gods I want to do THAT WITH ANNA!! He'd be lucky if his parents didn't hear his thoughts shouting it.

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Arilwen had not even realized that her slender fingers grabbed the heavy mug and heaved it at Memnoch's head as if it were the start of a pillow fight. Apparently the Swan went into beast mode when someone attempted to interrupt her sexual advances. Had he been serious? Arilwen HAD pledged her whole self to him. It was something she would ask Wyrvaust about later, because now she was going to do one thing. Sexually exhaust her husband.

Everyone had left the dining hall at last and the Swan planted one hand on the Raven's bare chest when he tried to get up, shoving him back down. The man hovered over her by a foot and she wasn't even breaking a sweat to control him. Was it him allowing her to? That could be part of it. The Swan was just now coming into some of her capabilities and was trying to take it slow and soak in all her husband could teach. However when emotions ran high, her abilities may show through the cracks. ....like when she seamlessly slammed the heavy dining hall doors in the faces of her shocked children without getting off the table.

For the next two hours this room was off limits while husband and wife enjoyed each other. Once they were shaking and exhausted, the Swan fell onto the Raven's sweaty chest and tried to reign in her heaving breaths. Her silk dress was torn, the table was a mess and Wyrvaust had her honey spoon stuck in his hair. Arilwen but her slightly swollen lower lip (had they tried to eat each others mouths?) and started into a horrible fit of giggles while she peeled the spoon out of his dark hair. "Shall we bathe?" She gently pressed a kiss to his forehead and climbed from the table. She almost made a joke about him making her mad more often....buuuuuut.. she didn't really want that.

Nuni had caught a glimpse of a very excited man before her brother clapped a hand over her eyes. Was THAT what men looked like under their clothes? How did they wear pants?! Anwarr led her to the dining hall so they could get Nuni some juice and she was shocked by the sight of her parents acting like animals on the massive dining hall table. Anwarr couldn't even react to cover her eyes. He just stared. Their mother looked up like her eyes were on fire and the door slammed in their faces. She blinked at the door. What was HAPPENING?! Suddenly her older brother started heaving that he wanted to do that with Anna, whom she had not yet met. "GROSS Anwarr!" She wrinkled her nose in disgust. He had said it in his own head, but she heard it. Anwarr flushed bright red. "How..."

Nuni was fed up with weird adults right now. She was going to find Memnoch to accuse him of lying. Those were NOT wolf noises they had heard at the Oasis. That had been her parents rubbing against each other. She stalked off, leaving an awkward teenager in a man's body standing in the hall, dying of embarrassment.

Anwarr was mortified. Was her little sister a mind reader? It had he been so overwhelmed with hormones that he had uttered the words out loud? He knew he should stop thinking of Anna. He knew he had to. He had taken the concern to his dad and Wyrvaust had warned against his feelings for a taken woman. His advice was to talk to Marsol if he couldn't stop, but since Marsol returned things had been tense. He had decided to talk to his Lord when things calmed down. Until then he tried to stay busy... And take a lot of cold baths.

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Wyrvaust was as excited by his wife's wild venting of anger as he was exhilerated that she was discovering the power within herself. It was a moment he had been waiting for, anticipating, even longed for. He was not put off by the fact that she was proving physically stronger than he was. He was not an egotistical proud kind of man who would feel threatened by his cherished mate being stronger and more powerful than he was. No, the idea of her being stronger than him delighted him. Why there might come a time when it might be necessary for her to overpower him, and the pleasure which she and he both derived from her being able to sexually challenge him was fantastic. She was the daughter of a legendary immortal, perhaps even a deity, whose history, though veiled and puzzling was incredible by any standards. She was perfectly capable of becoming a goddess and Wyrvaust's trust and faith in her was so true that he would help and support her in becoming all she desired and struggled to be. Just as his hips rose and his back arched to heave him upward as she impaled herself on him to bury his throbbing mass in her depths, they were one joined in ecstasy as they were joined in all else. Joy, agony, hope, despair, longing, loneliness, achievement, loss, life and death, she was what gave any of it any meaning. Each time he felt himself press oh so deeply inside her depths via his own rapture and the bliss she sent back in tides throughout him, he felt as if he were dying and being reborn again in ecstasy by her. The way their voices comingled was pure magic in its blending of animal fervor and boundless affection. The way she felt, looked, smelled, sounded, the way she filled all his senses, these were things he could never tire of.

What demons had in spades was stamina. Exhausting Wyrvaust by means of sex would take days. What his wife did manage however, in those hours spent riding their sexual tsunami, was satisfying him utterly. He was left breathless when their bodies uncoupled because she had taken his breath away with all that she was... her phenominal beauty, the tempest of her incredible passion, her fearlessness. He grabbed Arilwen up in his arms and laughed with her like a smitten boy when she unstuck that spoon from his long pile of thick black locks. He laughed for no other reason than she just made him FEEL like laughing. The very native american looking neffari demon said nothing when she asked if he wanted a bath. His indigo eyes just followed her as she kissed him. When she tried to rise he caught her in his arms again and pulled her back down atop him to kiss her with a passion so tender and deep and full of longing that it felt like what the very definition of love should be... like true love's kiss. Then he let her go and felt immediately deprived of her. Struck by the anticlimax of their bodies separating. It was always that way with him... a sudden and unstoppable anxiety that only some time would cure. He didn't speak when he was on his feet and had his robe back on and the pants he had also shed folded over his arm. He didn't speak as they walked from the dining hall to the bath chamber off their quarters. It was as Arilwen drew the bath water that he tossed his pants in the hamper, sat on the wide edge of the bath pool, and addressed her.

"There is a story Memnoch told the Raven a few days ago when he caught the fox longing for his Swan with his stare when she was in the garden planting that coffee tree his brother had brought for her. Two demons came to love one another so deeply that they entwined." His hands came together joined. "They buried themselves in each other until hunger was gone and thirst was gone and all that remained was their hunger and thirst for each other. They remained entwined for so long even after that they disappeared in one other, embodiments joined in possession." He pressed his palms together flat. "Each can manifest outside the other... but the pain of doing so is so intense, they rarely step outside of each other." His hands dropped. "A true story, Memnoch swears by it. The Raven feels like that... like the only time the world feels right is when our bodies are so tightly fitted together that our flesh might as well be one body." He brushed at her hair with his long fingers, which still glistened with her slick. "The... I... wouldn't mind getting lost in you forever." He smiled.

Nuni found Memnoch in the garden crouched down by the coffee tree Wyrvaust had just mentioned Arilwen planting. There were a few coffee beetles on it, colourful, pretty little things and some of the glossy green leaves were slightly damaged. Memnoch ran his hand around the young plant and the beetles began to march down the branches and trunk then off the saplings altogether in retreat of whatever he had done. He then stood as Nuni approached and began accusing him of being a liar and why. The white devil just smirked. "Wolves, ravens, swans... They are all animals. Does the shape of them really matter that much? Besides, what would you have me tell you? Why that is your parents... they are making babies, let me draw you a picture of how?" He cackled.

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Nic watched Mekkor, he took the offered drink, but he did not say anything right away, he wanted to see what Mekkor would say, what he would do. The Reaver would take a seat if he could find a chair to sit in, otherwise, he just stood. It was odd talking to Mekkor as he stood there wearing the flesh of Felix. "Did Felix knowingly dupe me, or did he at least not know about it?" He had to ask, he wanted to know if Felix had a hand in this, and just played Niculaie, if he did? Nic would beat his ass for it, or get his ass beat if Felix proved capable.

Something perked Niculaie's attention though, Haman, they sought Wryvaust? Interesting, thought the Reaver.. Niculaie had a relationship with Haman after all, he was the off spring of those who came from Haman. Niculaie wondered if his maker ever question just how he was able to take Anna to Earth, he had no Magic of his own, his gating ring obviously did not have the power to bypass the planetary ward. Reavers had their limits didn't they? Did Mekkor assume he had been gated by Marsol, or Wryvaust? "So they want to recruit the Raven, do they?" Niculaie just drank his glass deep, "He won't do it, he won't serve outside of Marsol, no matter who asks. I would be stunned if he ever agreed."

He had become the agent of Yajmha, in exchange for passage and vacancy on earth for as long as he wished, Niculaie only had to do what he did best, and that was to kill on command. He had been what could be defined as a hitman for heaven, he recieved names or images of people, and he was tasked with using his abilities to give them a lasting rest. He wondered how many souls he would have to put to rest for Yajmha to consider toying with the fates? No matter what happened though, Niculaie would give Ariela a lasting rest, he decided that the night she nearly killed Anna and Gosha.

Niculaie watched Mekkor still as he laid out his offer, and so on, Niculaie was not sure what to say.. To be unmade? Returned to his state of being he had been once upon a time, powerless. Niculaie needed his Reaving powers if he was to kill Ariela, they were a boon, he had no hate for Mekkor either. Niculaie grinned, "Am I a wild child? Rabid monster who needs to be controlled? That is exactly why people run Mekkor, you want to control us, have us under your thumb. I do not hate you, but, I do not want to be another one of your chess pieces. I want to control my destiny, I want my family free of the fates.. To make our own fate, but, in the end I keep being chained by fate.. and the will of beings older and more powerful than I am." Niculaie said as he held Mekkor's gaze with his own, "Have you ever thought about just letting go? I know I fucked up, I have not been a very good.. Acolyte? I have never been super good at taking orders, I was used to giving them, before I was thrown into this world. In the Desert though, Marsol did not wish to rule me, he made me feel his equal, even if it was not the way things really were, I don't need a father, I have one. " He wasn't talking about Marsol either, though the dragon had been something of a mentor to him.

"I will give you loyalty, or fealty.. But, I cannot abide to give up freewill and autonomy. If you wan't a puppet, you have Felix. I would rather be obliterated where I stand than to be anyones puppet." Niculaie decided to make clear, he was not sure what Mekkor wanted exactly, Loyal and slave, were alike to some people. He did not mean to speak ill of Mekkor, but Felix was a lost cause, he did not wish to be free of Mekkor.

Niculaie wondered if Marsol even knew he was gone, had Wryvaust bothered to even worry over his fate? "I have made a life in the desert, why do you fued with Marsol? I pray it is not over Wryvaust, let me help end this fued! You have shown me options to altering the fate of Gosha, I have a child with Marsol's daughter, think about the benefits of an alliance, my lord." Niculaie had always hoped he could bring some sort of cease fire, he hated the looks he got sometimes. Niculaie watched Mekkor.. if he could not be convinced.. Nic just might decide to be unmade. Of course Nic's lack of a solid choice might just be pissing the demon off, at this point, but such decision should not be made lightly.

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Any chance Wyrvaust had of worrying about Niculaie had been snatched from him when his wife jumped his bones. Were Arilwen and Nic balanced on the same scales, the scales would drop immediately in favor of his wife. It was just the way it was. Had it been necessary, Wyrvaust could have delayed Arilwen's nearly impossible to resist dominant display over his body, that is to say had there BEEN something Wyrvaust COULD have done for and about Nic and his brother Felix, but they had been taken by their own sire who had every right to bring them home by any means he deemed necessary. That and Wyrvaust had no idea where they had been taken. Indeed, had Mekkor gotten away with capturing Wyrvaust, he would have been just as entitled to do so. Besides, if the situation was reversed and it had been Wyrvaust who had been taken, and Anna jumped Nic's bones, would he have told Anna no, I have to do something about Wyrvaust, it might take a few months? Of course he wouldn't.

Mekkor did not interrupt Nic once as he spoke, only listened, but when he'd concluded with his say, Mekkor stood up and gazed steady at him through Felix's green-gold hazel eyes, the jet black curls framing his face still sticky and stiff with blood while the flesh that had been skinned from him and the bones that had been broken were almost fully regenerated. "Felix believed I excommunicated him from the clan. I made sure he believed that I disowned him and you utterly. I had to make him believe for you to believe and for Wyrvaust to believe. As for the freedom you so crave... It is the LAW of Acheron that a sire take full responsibility for the chosen he or she sires, raises, enslaves, creates, or recreates. I have shown you INCREDIBLE liberties and you act as if I have ENSLAVED you." He scoffed darkly. "Do you believe ANY of Acheron's ranks are allowed to just... do as they please without EARNING it? And earning it HARD? We are bound to HELL, Niculaie. And even yaught clubs or military organizations have rules, regulations, and penalties for breaking them. As for people wanting to run. What people are those, Nic?" his eyes thinned on him. "Felix did not run. I deposed him. Wyrvaust ran because he WAS treated like a slave, because he made himself unfit for any other position in the clan and Acheron with his willfulness. I admit I took too much pleasure in breaking him, and because he was weak he just... broke, but I wanted more for him. He valued HIS freedom above his own welfare. Not all are cut out to be Hell's elite." He scoffed again but quietly this time. "The skinny of YOUR situation, Nic, is you can either choose freedom, or you can choose me and Acheron. There IS no middle ground. Be remade and be free, or remain a reaver and serve me until I decide I CAN trust you to be on your own. Felix is free to do as HE pleases more often than not. But when he botches a mission, I make sure he does not soon forget his failure. The same goes for you, Niculaie. You have yet to feel my wrath but are well on your way to experiencing it for yourself. Your priorities alone demand CLOSE examination. But the subject for today is that you make your choice, a choice you shall have to live with. If you choose Acheron and me, your choice is eternal. If you choose freedom, what happens to you in the future is completely within YOUR hands, and yours alone... as much as it can ever be in a world of immortals and powerful mages."

As for Nic having been a hit man for Haman? Azriel and Sammael were the ONLY two agents with ties to Acheron whom Haman had ever solicited the support of as agents. Azriel had only just recently fallen, indeed his fall was not even complete, AND he was THE angel of death, and Sammael and Yajmha had a very unusual and special understanding. Haman did not 'hire', recruit, or solicit the aid of Achonian bred and born beings. The Tsetar and then the Alamascan angels had always been their hit men. Crusaders meanwhile had no direct ties to Haman, they simply had a natural instinct to slay those aligned with evil. It was in their genes. That didn't mean that crusaders didn't THINK they were agents of God. Many of them did in fact, but they had no idea if heaven and god were any more real than humans did.

The rumors circulating about Wyrvaust and Arilwen being sought after by Haman? It had spread to JUST the right people and it was not what it seemed. Haman wanted something from the demon and his wife, but Leviathan alone knew what it REALLY was. What Mekkor and even Wyrvaust knew of it was what Haman wanted them to know. There was truth there, but half truths veiled in secrecy and perhaps even self-deceit.

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Arilwen felt a little jazzed. Okay, VERY jazzed. She had felt such incredible things when coupling with her huaband... Especially when she had manhandled him and barked demands at the people in the room. She felt controlled and focused. She knew what she wanted and she took it. No one stood in her way. She recognized that was dangerous and it made her nervous. She was typically so soft spoken and gentle.

The Swan settled on the edge of the steaming tub and peeled her shredded dress off, leaving it in a puddle on the floor while her husband spoke of Memnoch's story. She was rapt with attention. "Imagine." She breathed. "Nothing but our feelings. Buried in earth terrifies me.... But with you?" She quieted, running her fingers through the water. After a moment she spoke, still looking at the water. "We promised ourselves to Memnoch. Does that include.... You know..." She looked worried.

Nuni rolled her eyes as Memnoch cackled at her. Animals were animals, he says. "It's gross. I'm never doing it. I saw Gilrael running around with no pants. How do men not sit on those?!" She looked disgusted.

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When she too tried to imagine them being buried in each other, he nodded slowly. "The Raven has imagined it, and can imagine nothing more amazing." He spoke in his quiet voice which always sounded so sultry. The question about Memnoch took Wyrvaust slightly offguard and his hands wrung together for a moment, but then his own mind cleared as vividly as a bright blue day.

The fact that his wife had vented a wild streak that excited Wyrvaust on SO many levels, and the fact that she proved herself capable of being physically stronger than HE was, not only didn't bother him the least little bit, but made him feel extremely hopeful. He was pleased as lime pie that his wife could overpower him, whether because it became necessary, or for pleasure, because that meant she was a step closer to being able to protect herself. When he had entered her in one powerful, sleek stroke and every thrust thereafter had purely and amorously penetrated to her cervix, she had been the one pushing HIM even deeper, and harder. SHE had been in control and what's more, she had loved it. Wyrvaust genuinely had tried to gain the dominant posture, and failed. The fun had been in trying. Doing so had just fanned their flames. Now with this question of Memnoch he was reminded of their promise, and of the white devil's casual request and HIS pledges. Arilwen had done the right thing acting on her ire and throwing that cup at him.

"This Abyss Demon presumed the White Devil's appeal was a joke." He began by saying. "He vowed not to exploit the Swan's... bits. If he meant it... he shall have to make that clear to the Lord and Lady of Twilight. All vows shall be kept, including his... and... the Raven shall make it known that if the Albino seeks to exploit us, the Raven shall lose any respect he has for him... The pact would be broken if we call him on shattering his vows..." He had them in a trap of their own making there. If they accused him of breaking his vows and he had, the pact would be broken and their protection would end. While... if they accepted him AS a lover, the pact would remain intact. Wyrvaust really didn't want to think of that when Memnoch's statement may have just been wishful thinking or an innocent muse. "All uncertainty aside... the Swan's husband cannot imagine the Snowbird taking such advantage of them when he pledged otherwise. Lonely he is perhaps... A mate we should help him find."

Was Wyrvaust considering becoming a match maker for an ancient devil? Anything to remove the possible threat of Memnoch becoming smitten with Arilwen and possibly even himself. But what kind of mate would Memnoch appreciate? If Memnoch had to answer that question he would have pointed at Arilwen and Wyrvaust with a saucy grin. But he was no fool. He was willing to wait however many hundreds or thousands of years it took for them to decide to ADMIT that they were attracted to him as well.

Memnoch looked a little puzzled when his best friend Nuni spoke of how gross it all was, pants and not sitting on certain things. "You would say that because you're still a kid. Trust me, it's not so gross when you're in it, especially if your heart is full in as well." He promised. "Well our man parts kind of tuck between our legs quite naturally..." he explained devil may care as he pleased. He did want to change the subject though, before horns, wings and tails started popping out all over him. "It's all about love or should be, Nuni, and that's what matters most. You are extremely fortunate to have parents who love each other so deeply. Now... tell me how the dragon eggs are doing. Keeping them packed in the ice I have been sending you? Are you hearing any peeps coming from inside yet? The louder they peep and the more frequently, the closer they are to hatching. And the eggs will start to look more and more like glass and less and less like rock. Know why? The older the nymphs get, the hotter or colder their cores. Winter dragon cores are SO cold, it produces what's called cold heat. It's what sparked the universe from the cold empty void. Anyway, this heat, flame or ice turns the rock into glass. Whitewing's eggs are already very glassy, though." He flashed one of those magnificent grins of his.

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Arilwen looked a little less apprehensive when Wyrvaust came to the conclusion that Memnoch had been joking about joining them. She could never see him forcing himself on either of them. They both respected the bright-eyed demon very much, and they would be heart broken and confused if he did. She relaxed, nodding to what he said. "I will apologize later... for throwing that mug at him." She blushed a little, then reached for the Raven's hand. "Let me wash you..." She said softly, rising so that they could step into the tub. The water was hot enough to scorch someone who was not careful, and she bit her lower lip and sank down to her knees.

What proceeded from there was the Swan worshipping her husband's form.... Her fingers through his dark hair, down his body, touching all inches of his skin and placing kisses on his damp body as she went.

Nuni considered what Memnoch said about her parents and she seemed to relax from the crisis of mating and life. "Yeah...." She said softly. She knelt next to the coffee tree and lit up when he asked about the dragons. "I promise I am. Anwarr is taking a turn so I can take a break. Sometimes I THINK I can hear peeps, but when I get closer I think I might be imagining it.I want so badly for them all to be okay. I can't bear the thought of some eggs not being viable.... I know I should be prepared.... But..." She sighed and touched a leaf on the tree.

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Wyrvaust only smirked a little when Arilwen said she'd apoligize for lobbing a mug at the white devil. "The Snowbird had it coming," he assured her, but then he added, "...But if the Raven's most cherished lady feels she must admit to guilt... then she should do so." It was for her to decide who she felt she owed her regrets to. His dark blue eyes locked on her intently when she offered to bathe him. At length he smiled, kissed her lips, then lowered himself into the hot water, gasping slightly at the feel of the steamy water against his cool flesh then exhaling slowly as he sank into the chest deep water until he had adjusted to the heat. Once acclimated, it felt wonderful. Though Wyrvaust could command and was even immune to fire elements, he could still FEEL heat to a certain extent, just shy of where it became unbearable. It was because his body temperature was so low. Dragon fire on the other hand was different. IT he was susceptible to. It had to do with Mekkor's line.

Her touch as she washed him carried him to a place he never wanted to leave. How she could relax him so deeply and make his cock so hard at the same time was a mystery to him. She knew his body so well. When he could not have grown more relaxed, any cleaner or more sexually aroused, he caught her in his arms and pulled her into the large pool of hot water with him, sealing her lips with a searing kiss as she slid onto his lap. What little remained of the sheer ribbons of now wet cloth covering her was quickly brushed and pulled away from her milky smooth flesh and deposited on the marble floor of the bath chamber in a sloshy pile. His kiss deepened ere he persisted to explore and tantalize her tongue and while one hand opened her legs wide his other fingers all lathered in natural plant oil soap pressed against her fem bundle of nerves to thrash her in provocative gyres. He plastered his other hand over her chest, also holding her against him by those beautiful breasts he squeezed and tweaked one at a time. This time he fully intended to dominate HER with every passion his heart and body possessed and keep that water steamy hot while doing so with a simple feat of magic. He wanted to make sure she felt completely and utterly exploited by him in the most incredible and unforgettable ways. Being pregnant had twice now proven to make his wife insatiably horny and he had no intention of making her feel the least bit neglected. One had to wonder who was going to wear who out first. If she managed somehow to dominate him again? Well, he wouldn't complain too much, but he WOULD do his best without harming her not to let it happen.

Memnoch smiled and patted Nuni's head when she let some of her worries slip. "It will be fine, Nuni. It can take a long time for dragon nymphs to awaken and grow in their eggs. They can remain dormant for hundreds of years until either fire or ice wakes them. Those eggs are neither cracked or broken, and there is barely a chip on any of them. Those eggs are quite viable, trust me. If they get fractured that can compromise them, but not even always then. If they break they are done for. Chipping happens when dragons turn them, so is fine as long as they dont crack." He let her know. "You might be just imagining them chirp, but could be you are hearing their first sounds. Until they are nearing hatching time it is hard to hear them." Some of what he was telling her was in the dragon book he gave her under nesting. If she had read those parts, he was just reminding her. If not, then she was learning something new she would also read for herself when she got to that chapter. "Nymphs sound a lot like baby crocodiles. Difference is, they can learn any speech we can." He waggled his brows at her. "Your dragons should go to school with you!" he declared playfully and grabbed her up to flip her over and pin her against the soft sandy ground. "Tag, you're it!" he then yelled, and shoved against the ground to launch himself backwards, then took off running.

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It was up to her to decide on an apology. The Swan grinned and shrugged one bare shoulder. Her cleaning process was a slow one. She was still utterly in worship of her husband's body. Any other male paled in comparison to his features. The Swan worked slowly and methodically, savoring each inch of him. The tables turned and Wyrvaust slipped a hand between her thighs, making her back arch and her voice shudder in her throat. He was intent on wearing her out? She wouldn't back off easily, but oh, the fight for dominance was delicious. She shoved him and grabbed his hair, he grabbed the back of her neck and made her look him in the eye while an orgasm shattered her like she was made of ice. She screamed like a woman possessed and tries to fight him, but not TOO hard. It ended up with her eyes rolled back in her skull while she convulsed in his arms.

Nuni felt a little better as Memnoch spoke to her. She had babies in those dragon eggs. She slept with them, wiped them down with soft cloths, talked to them... They were her babies! School? That was something never discussed by her birth parents. She was raised knowing that she would be used for hard labor. She grinned in excitement. "They will understand my words..." She was excited. So excited that Memnoch's pounce caught her off guard. She yelled and watched him take off. No way! He was old and she was young and spry. She darted after him, bare feet pounding the dirt.

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Much as their first romp had scattered dishes all over the place, their second contest of carnal wills flooded the bathhouse floor. When his wife had orgasmed that first time, Wyrvaust's inviting lips curled with a devilish grin and he perpetuated her climax until she had peaked at least another dozen times over the course of two more hours which carried them into their bedroom. There, once his magnificent Mordim had her final, torturously blissful eruption, he lay wrapping her up in his arms and legs, one hand just brushing lightly over every inch of her he could reach. As he caressed her he talked to her quietly, tonelessly, all of his emotions captured in his touch against her skin.

"His Swan yelled at him for leaving without her... yet she has failed to mention whom the Raven returned without. We all of us knew it was a trap, so why did her mate go? It was a gamble... one to prove if Memnoch truly is their guardian. Raven felt it. The power which strove to seize him but could not. Captured were Nic and Felix by those same forces and potent as well as quick they were. Doubtful it is that the Desert Fox could have counteracted the Snake's arcane snare. Tried to locate the reavers the Fox, and even in THAT act yet another trap was triggered, easily foreseen by the fallen beast and utilized, but again the Raven flew free of that cage when caught he should have been. No trace of his brothers could he find either." He shrugged, obviously deciding it was time they talked about it.

"Left his most beautious and adored mate behind because a little doubt lurked in his mind where the Snowbird lived." Meaning he doubted what Memnoch had promised just enough to test his word. "Lady Twilight has shown her abyss demon the wrong in his thoughts but at that moment he saw only his need to protect his heart's goddess and their unborn babbins." Babbins was a word the Shaamea used for the young children of other natives.

"The Raven is uncertain if anything should be done. Mekkor is their father. Swan's husband is not in omission of truth. He knows that if his clan reclaims him, that is their right. That is WHY he goes to such lengths to avoid his..." he still couldn't call him sire when for ages he thought that at least the honorable Mustaala was his sire. The discovery that evil Behemoth was his progenitor was just too painful for him to speak of yet. "...his clan patron," he regressed. "Snakeson said something which played also a part in his decision to leap into danger... said the Raven was a coward for hiding in the desert and letting the wrath of Mendorin and Mekkor follow him here to place all whom he cherishes in peril. So terribly bothered is the Swan's mate by those hard words that he thinks they must be true. He begins to think that perhaps the time has come to face his... blooded sire." He looked wounded just saying it.

"Trying to lure the snake into a trap he was anyway. Let a valuable secret slip to Mekkor the Raven to make it impossible for the Snake of Deceit not to come here. But perhaps the Raven made a grave error in THAT, because of neglecting then to consider who else the Abyss Snake might tell... for though a great hoarder of knowledge the Earl of Demons, the demon PRINCE is his friend and master." Wyrvaust just hoped that he'd not get the chance to pass the knowledge on to Sammael before the matter with Mekkor was settled!

Memnoch couldn't have been more pleased that Nuni held her egg duties with such avid responsibility. He was proud of her and made no secret of it to her.

He was laughing deeply as she chased after him, and because he held the suspicion that she was something special and just didn't know it yet, he didn't hold back at first, even poured on a little haste, but, if it became clear that speed and agility of an immortal ilk were not what she could invoke, he let her catch him.

What he hoped for though was that she could catch him bare boned. THAT would mean something! It would mean there was more to the Dove than met the eye. Of course it also had to mean she was clueless to what she WAS, right? Because otherwise he would know what his bestest friend was, because someone couldn't possibly be powerful enough to hide anything from him, could they? Wanting to hide something was a desire, so he would know. There were only two beings in the universe who could hide wants, desires and relative subject matter from Memnoch. Acheron and proxies was one, Leviathan and proxies was the other. Memnoch would never imagine Nuni as a beneficiary of either one of them. If that was the case, anything she or they wanted hidden was safe from him for the time being. Because his power WAS absolute, not even they could keep their desires from him forever, only misdirect them for a little while. Because of this, those who knew who and what he was tended to avoid him unless they wanted something from him.

Memnoch was behaving as if a child himself as he played with Nuni, despite his ulterior motives to see a glimpse of what she might be capable of.

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Gilriael did not embarress easily, but being seen without a stitch and with a hardon by a pair of children had mortified him. Being a weyrdragon meant getting caught with your clothes off was so common place it didn't even faze you anymore after the first ten or so years, though for him it was about twenty years before he was genuinely comfortable being seen in the Maelvannor half of his birthday suit. Once they turned the corner down the hall from Anwaar's room, Gilriael started laughing hysterically. At one point he was laughing so hard that he fell against the wall crying he was laughing so hard. His voice sang out with a great sigh when he finally collected his senses, but with one look at the handsome abyss stalker (what he liked to call Cevari) at his side, he broke into chuckles and giggles again, but he was walking as his guffawing continued. It was a pretty good walk to Cevari's tower, especially when you were naked and ducking all the help and residents in the hallways. Having not taken the shortcut through the cellar, they had to gain access to the north tower which ascended to Above Ground through the hallway off of Wyrvaust and Arilwen's chambers and the chamber now called the Oasis Room because Memnoch and Nuni had painted a wonderful mural of the Clear Water Oasis on all the walls and the ceiling. Wyrvaust and Arilwen were still doing the wild grind in the dining room when the weyrdragin and abyss walker cut through their quarters. Gilriael snatched some fine incense and matches off a table as they passed it. The Twilight couple's quarters smelled like an opium den, fantastic. He enjoyed stealing little things from friends and acquaintences no one would really miss, or if they did, it was no big deal. It was like claiming a little piece of those he loved or appreciated. Food, candles, books and incense were perfect because he could enjoy the same things they did. He stole more valuable things from strangers who rubbed him the wrong way. That was just for kicks and spite. One might call him a thoughtful cleptomaniac. He was not a thief in the common sense. He had no measurable thief skills. He just... took things.

Gilriael took a look around then spoke to Cevari. "Nic and Felix got sucked into a gate portal." He figured Cevari had to be dying to know what had happened. "Wyrvaust said it tried to get him but that he was protected. Not sure why he didn't put the same sorcery on them, or Hell... me! Maybe magic doesn't stick to reavers, but it would certainly stick to me. I guess he just didn't think of me." He mock sniffled to expose that his feelings were hurt then shrugged. He had no idea about the Memnoch pact and just assumed Wyrvaust had protected himself. "I need to tell Marsol... but not now. It would just upset him and nobody knows where that wicked ass demon's digs are, so why bother just yet? I guess I will have to tell him tomorrow. I won't keep anything from him. Just ONE night. He is JUST starting to act more like himself." He sighed. It depressed him what had happened to Marsol. Hence he sang a little song he made up along the way.

"The desert king lost his heart out there,
In another demon's cryptic lair,
Came he back among the dunes,
To find his heart none too soon,
Will his heart ever truly mend,
Or shall he become as the Raven?
We who love him can only imagine,
That he shall reclaim himself that exalted dragon."

Gilriael had a voice as beautiful as his build... muscular and fit but lean in all the right places and as mentioned before, he was nicely hung. His voice meanwhile traveled along naturally composed melodies to reach highs and lows in perfect harmony and pitch, or with thick husky passion. He smiled a little at Cevari when he stopped singing then slapped his hand with his own, just to make contact.

Once they entered that seldom trod corridor which led to the Northeast Tower, Gilriael felt much better, more relaxed, and bumped or shoved Cevari with chest and hands, or chased him as they walked, just engaging in some horseplay, but he was also venting testosterone AND anxiety. He suffered when Marsol suffered. Meanwhile, he was VERY attracted to Cevari, he had just had trouble putting the moves on him, and it seemed mutual because Cevari had not stepped beyond kissing him either. They kissed a lot, like a couple of virgin adolescents. Speaking of kissing.

When they scaled the tower's stairs round and round six times, up to the third floor chamber of the tower, Gilriael clasped Cevari's shoulders and shoved him against the wall to seal his lips with a fiercely desperate kiss. The intensity of his need could not be missed either by the way his tongue lay claim to Cevari's temperate mouth or the urgent press of his body. All around them were crates large and small and furniture covered with sheets to keep the dust off. It was a storage room. Two floors above was the inaccessible entrance to the Sacred Oasis on the high desert mesa above the canyon and lair. Gilriael had tried to open the door a couple of times until the wards zapped him to make him all too ill. He had not attempted to open it since, but he did want to ask Wyrvaust where it went. If he was told, he would beg the demon to let he and Cevari have access to the oasis. Gilriael's hand met Cevari's chest flush and explored the expanse of him from chest to stomach, then leaned in. "I am ready if you are," his voice was thick with desire but also slightly shaky. He was also as nervous as a virgin, but a virgin is something he was NOT... perhaps thanks to Sammael, though thanking Sammael for what he did was not something Gilriael would EVER do, even if Sammael HAD believed he was doing him a favor in that twisted mind of his. At least then it had been if it still wasn't. Gilriael was willing to bet it was. Could Gilriael ever even HAVE a somewhat resembling semi-normal sex life? He wouldn't know because until now, he hadn't tried.

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Cevari was in absolute stitches by the time they had escaped those poor, saucer-eyed children. Oh, stars, this was gold. He joined in with Gilriael's laughter, clutching at the other man's arm. "Oh, fuck," He managed to gasp out. "We've scarred them for life." He giggled. He walked with him when he started walking again, and did his part by positioning himself in front of Gil whenever they passed another person on their journey to his tower. It was the least he could do, playing human shield to protect poor Gil and the virtuous eyes of those they passed. He was amused to see Gil steal a bit of incense from his brother's chamber. A bit sticky fingered, was he? It was kind of cute.

His brows arched when Gil told him of what happened to Nic and Felix. "A gate portal." He repeated. "To where?" He inquired. He was soon distracted by that song, and by Gil's beautiful voice. And...well, he was very easily distracted by the other man's fantastic body. Stars, look at him. He could hardly take his eyes off of him! He was beautiful. He laughed again when Gil got all playful, shoving and bumping. Cevari reacted in kind, swatting at his bare ass, and generally horsing around.

He grunted as he found himself shoved back against the wall, but kissed him back with every bit the same amount of passion and desperation. It was a hungry kiss, and his arms curled around Gil's frame, gathering him flush against himself. It was true that he had not pushed to go far beyond kissing yet. He had sensed that Gilriael hadn't been ready, and damn it, he cared to much to push for more when his partner was unsure about it. He wanted to know that they both wanted it equally. Cevari was patient. He'd had to learn to be, waiting for his brother all those decades.

Cevari's abdominal muscles flexed involuntarily (but very invitingly) as that hand passed over his belly. That shaky voice made his chest ache, and he followed up with a gentler, more tender kiss, to try and sooth him. "I am," He agreed. "But only if you're certain. You're worth waiting for, love." He murmured, hand going to sift through Gil's beautiful hair. He didn't want to pressure him into anything, if there were any doubts remaining. He meant what he had said. He could wait.

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Cevari was probably one of the few merchants who thought it was cute to be a thief. Then again, the crowd he tended to run with wasn't exactly the law abiding kind, or where they? Gilriael really couldn't have said. The only people of Cevari's acquaintence he had met, were Cevari's caravan guards, and they seemed quite disciplined, but also on the dangerous side; in fact, they oozed intimidation. Gilriael supposed that was part of their job, but they also knew how to tell tales and play all manner of gambling games around the fire. Some of them could sing too. Gilriael actually felt comfortable around them, perhaps because he wasn't really much of an ass kicker, and they were, just like he felt at ease with Marsol. They all knew he was basically passive. Cevari might not think so, but as dragons went, Gilriael was tame.

"WE scarred them?" Gilriael chortled. "I don't see your skewer hanging out." He snickered. "Poor kids... oh shit... poor kids..." It was about then he fell against the wall laughing. It was when he calmed down enough to speak much less think again that he slung an arm over Cevari's shoulder chuckling. "I guess if they ever wondered what was under an elf's garb, they know now. Might even say it was an educational experience." Snicker, snicker, cackle, giggle.

As much fun as the horseplay was, the kissing and grabbing was much, MUCH better. Gilriael was beautiful? Cevari was better looking than his brother in Gilriael's opinion... prettier one might say, and that was exactly how Gilriael wanted him. Anwaar looked a little like him. Wyrvaust was magnificent but also... kinda scary. He was so tall and his muscles were so... hard. Not large, just so hard you could bounce a dagger off his chest, arms, stomach, thighs, what have you. He looked to Gilriael like he could break you like a twig. If he'd tried to horseplay with Wyrvaust like he had Cevari, Wyrvaust would've just... not moved, just looked at him funny.

It was because Cevari actually wanted to make sure Gil was ready, and was willing to wait as long as he had to that Gilriael didn't want to wait another second, if feeling his stomach tighten under his fingers wasn't enough. Gilriael kissed again with an ever fiercer desire and began tugging, pulling and unfastening everything Cevari was wearing that got in his way. He wasn't gentle about it either because his passions were running so high, but he wasn't violent either, it was pure, uncaged lust fueled by love and such want as he had never experienced until now. When his clothes lie all around them, he pinned him against the wall still kissing him and now grinding his swollen member against him like a hurricane had possessed him. He could barely breathe he wanted him so bad.

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Cevari's men were a varied lot, and yes, some had a fairly shady past. Worked for him, because he didn't like to get his own hands dirty. His men were hired muscle, and some of them were pretty rough and tumble. That he had their loyalty was a good thing, because otherwise, they probably ate men like him for breakfast. Once you got to know them, really, they were just big teddy bears. Big, muscly teddy bears.

Cevari stifled another giggle. "I was an accessory. I could have leapt in front of you, heroically. But I was too busy gawking." He teased. "It's a very nice skewer." He added, with a wicked grin.

It was true that Cevari was pretty to look upon, with those dense ebony curls spiralling down his back, and that flawless cinnamon skin. He was very well toned, too. He was not a fighter, but he kept very fit, lifting goods into the caravan wagons and the like. It was a lean muscle, though, nothing too hulking. He was definitely not quite as muscular as his brother.

Cevari groaned into that next kiss, and the sheer fierceness of that desire sent a hot lick of arousal straight to his loins. He guided Gilriael's hands to the appropriate fastenings on his fine clothing, for fear that he might tear at them if he couldn't get them off fast enough. He was willing to lose precious parts of his wardrobe if he had to, but if he could avoid it? He was going to. By the time the last garment hit the floor, he was just as hard as Gil was, throbbing his arousal between them. His hands came to rest on those hips, dragging him tighter against him, and following their movements. He bit at those lips lightly as he gave a roll of his hips back against him. Cevari was not small by any means, where it counted, as Gil could likely feel, hot against him.

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Much as Gilriael avoided actual violence (there were always exceptions, such as his willingness to gobble Mekkor up) but was able to defend himself, he would have been surprised if Cevari as old as he had to be considering his brother's age did not keep some of his own tricks up his sleeve where defense was concerned. He doubted Cevari would be helpless without his men.

Gilriael did his best not to pop valuable jeweled buttons off and send them flying off into that crowded storage room, but one ruby button did snap off and do just that, rather like a bullet which betrayed the general area it had landed in between a couch and some boxes with a faint sound. When that last vestige of rich raiment was shed, Gilriael shoved Cevari down on that same sheet covered sofa, and it was so large and soft it swallowed them.

In uncovering the parts of the city he had, Wryvaust had also unearthed a lot of perfectly preserved furniture, some of which was stored in that tower. Some of it, like the piece Gilriael had pushed Cevari down on, were works of art. Course they couldn't see the beautiful carvings in the wood parts of the arm rests and centerpiece of the backrest, dragons ironically, because it was covered with fine Esscha Endoran linen.

The weyrdragon straddled Cevari where he landed and tossed foreplay out the window as he buried Cevari's throbbing muscle inside of himself. Because Sammael had exploited him in every sexual manner imaginable for over a hundred years he felt quite... well let us say untroubled by Cevari's impressive size. He was bigger than Gilriael. Gil had tightened up over the hundred years he had been free of Sammael but he was a quasi-mortal being on both sides. He healed more quickly than a mortal but much like the aging races. He scarred, his body bore signs of wear. He felt rather like an ex-sex slave of Acheron, which meant he could really go to town on Cevari and that Cevari didn't have to hold anything back for fear of causing him pain. Gilriael was in ecstasy the moment he had shoved every inch of the abysswalker in the depths of his body. His body arched and stretched in rapturous celebration of the way Cevari made him feel each time their bodies meshed and ground together, not to mention the other ways Cevari touched him, how their bodies felt at each other's fingertips, whether stroked, kneaded, teased, or grappled, and the marvelous coiling and sucking of their tongues and nibblings of their lips. It all drove Gilriael into a mad sexual frenzy, much like the one Arilwen and Wyrvaust were also feeling at that very moment.

And speaking of Arilwen and Wyrvaust... once they had their talk, Wyrvaust was going to exhaust his wife one more time, then move them back to the bathchamber where HE was going to bathe HER, and while doing so... teach her more elemental tricks by having her help him filter and then send all that water, in the bath or on the floor, back into the water table as pure as when it had been drawn. Wyrvaust never wasted water, only appeared to now and again. The only water consumed from his supply was the water that was drunk. He even had water cycling commands in his wards but had left the flooded floors in the bath chamber stand so he and Arilwen could manage that spill together.

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There wasn't alot for Niculaie to say really, he had to make his choice after all didn't he? The Reaver looked at his glass, that he had been offered earlier, he was taking a deep breath as he weighed those options, but, Mekkor did not seem to be making his side seem the best choice. Niculaie liked being a Reaver, but the way Mekkor spoke did not help him want to stay as his Acolyte or whatever, the Russian male who had become something of a child torn between parents when it came to Mekkor and Marsol would stay quite for nearing fifteen minutes before he finally spoke up. "I have decided, Mekkor. I wish to be unmade. You cannot trust me, and I have no wish to be away from the desert. That is my decision." Nic, had to decide and that was his decision, as bad as things were he could not just walk away from the desert and those he had created bonds with there.

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Mekkor looked displeased with the choice Niculaie had made, but his offer to Nic was not something he would retract. It was not in his nature to renege on pacts or deal. "Very well, Nic," he said, a well defined edge to his voice. "Have it as you will." Was he not going to tell him what a mistake he was making? Tell him what a mistake his sire had made choosing him? Tell him what a disloyal, flip flopping fool he was? What was the point? Niculaie had made his choice. Mekkor turned slowly to face him then inhaled a deep breath as he gathered all the forces in himself necessary to unravel all which had been done to Niculaie. "I will have you know that if not for certain persons who SHALL remain nameless... I would be destroying you right now instead of showing you this act of kindness. I am not that forgiving."

That said, a deep purple and black miasma formed all around him which rushed to his hands as they raised and bloomed outward, hence he thrust his hands at Nic and released the full force of those powers he had gathered and partially borrowed via invocations. What Nic felt when that payload of energies intermingled with antienergies was a sensation like innumerable bolts of wire piercing every pore of his body and then splitting him apart cell by cell. Those forces pulled him apart much as teleportation did, only AS Niculaie was hurled from Mekkor's lair and far beyond the swamp, all but one of the aspects which Mekkor' had recreated him with was filtered OUT of him. The one bit which he could not remove could never BE removed, not by him, not by anyone, BUT the king of Acheron and why would he? Niculaie meant little more to the King of Acheron than another failed clan mate. It was best his attention was NOT drawn to Niculaie. If anyone despised disloyalty and vacillation where clan ties were concerned, it was the Morning Star. It was particularly dangerous to bring such matters to his attention while cleaning house. He had recently shown weakness on that end as a favor to Sammael and would not soon be repeating such a show of mercy? Perhaps, perhaps not, depending on Sammael's take on Ariela... Nic's professed hated enemy. Niculaie would find himself in the middle of the desert, DEEP in SAEED's territory, when he finally... 'came back together' as those powers tore him apart and then glued him back together again, in transit no less, as a temple crusader AS he was born. If he had any tatoos, any rune marks, scars, anything on his body before, it was gone now. Mekkor left him just ONE little gift... a curse as punishment. Something specific would trigger it. Meeting Marsol face to face was the trigger. What was it? Tune in to find out.

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Niculaie wondered in that moment how Mekkor felt about him, he could hear the edge in his voice.. He knew enough about Mekkor to know this was not a thing he took joy in, this.. betrayal? He likely felt quite betrayed by Niculaie. "I understand.. For what its worthm you weren't the worst sire." Jules was way worse, his previous sire had been utterly and completely clueless after all.

The pain came swiftly as Mekkor discharged that power into Niculaie, and he felt himself being torn apart, and in that second he could see Anna, and Gosha.. Until Darkness swallowed all. Niculaie then ceased to be.. and for nearly a week and a half he had vanished from creation. Floating in the darkness, a consciousness barely aware as he was being remade as he had once been.. Born again into the world exactly as Mekkor decided, naked and alone he laid in the sands..The dark Templar felt himself awaken into the world again, his body ached with pain.. the sun glaring down on him as he lay in the scorching sands, far from where he had been. He just laid there though, as consciousness slowly returned to him. Niculaie the spawn of a Crusader and a Fallen angel, woke to the world.. Woke with the blinding pain of rebirth, and a scream tore from his throat as the agony of his recreation ended. Then he dark winged creature fell silent.:

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Wyrvaust had spent another rather incredible day and night with his wife, and now... another morning had dawned... a late one. Wyrvaust was not an early riser so tended to set the standard. It was about mid-morning, which for him WAS early. He and Arilwen made breakfast together for the entire crew minus the guards in the canyon outside. They had their own camp and cooked (or hunted for) their own food, Anyone indoors on the other hand was welcome to join them for breakfast. They had made a LOT of food in about an hour's time. Eggs, bacon, soft whole grain pancakes, pitchers of fresh tropical juice, warbash boar bacon, several kinds of toasted bread and biscuits, and his most loyal of all black minions Morgrym had pitched in. He always did, often making meals himself. He was chef, guard, babysitter, whatever was needed of him or which interested him to do. Grym was a Black Minion Tsetar, possible because he had been in his mortal phase when turned. Wyrvaust had created HIM as a mercy, much as he had been a slave along with him.

Wyrvaust was waiting on Marsol to arrive. He had... more news for him... and old news to go over. He nodded to Memnoch as the white devil entered, Hassim Daily in hand, and made himself at home, and why shouldn't he? He was at home now. He smiled at both Wyrvaust and Arilwen as he seated himself. Grym placed a cup of coffee by him and he started reading the paper. Gilriael and Cevari always read it after him. Memnoch first because he had been the one to arrange and pay for its daily delivery. Gilriael meanwhile was absolutely BEAMING when he came in, arm draped across Cevari's shoulder. He too was anxious to see Marsol. He had thought about telling him about Nic the day AFTER Nic had been taken, but one thing after another had kept Marsol rather occupied... namely, an auburn haired bird being tormented by visions he shared with Marsol because he would never keep anything from him if he could help it.

First he saw his children... in the womb of Ariela... then he saw them dying... then he saw war demolishing the desert far and wide, how far Cirgoth could not tell... then he saw a new king rise in the desert. Cirgoth just wanted to make sure NONE of it happened, but some of it already had. Then there was Marsol having to explain some hard things to Cirgoth... anyway... things had been insane, and between Gilriael and Wyrvaust, they could not wait to see Marsol any longer. If he did not show for the breakfast Wyrvaust had sent a guard to invite him to, those two were going down below to see HIM.

Whatever had happened between Cirgoth and Marsol? Well, that was a mystery to everyone else but them, unless Ardwyr and Amaru overheard some or all of it. They could be quite clever about spying on their parents. They wanted them together more than anything after all. Both Cirgoth and Marsol had a lot to get over... Cirgoth was already willing, but was Marsol? Time would tell.

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The black minion camp in the Canyon reported to Morgrym first, who might then communicate verbally into the ear of Wyrvaust or otherwise that there was a rider stopped at their gate. A bewitching 'youthful' female of the devastatingly seductive sort, indeed, but without any wiles, guiles, or other same such 'sorcery', had only requested an audience with another guest of their master. She was wearing an almost blood red set of what could have been riding boots, pants, and a fitted sort of 'shirt' more deceptively light armor, and gloves. She'd taken the liberty of putting her weapons in her saddlebag before having come to the gate. The blonde at the gate had rode into the Saphire Canyon, straight up to the gates, and not demanded but politely inquired in their master would entertain her the privilege of 'guest' status and a conversation with the desert lord she'd inquired after. The rider? She'd dismounted while she'd waited, and only provided the guards with her affiliation. She was there under the auspices of the Desert Wind, and that in of itself might have rose up an eyebrow or several.

She was the spitting image of another entity, recently deceased, her twin, a doppleganger, yet as much that she was the identical image of her sister there were differences in personality, style, and a great many things as there were similarities. She'd wanted to see Marsol. Of course. She had something for him. Unlike her sister she wore her hair up, and unlike her sister, she would not be at least in that moment so audacious to just let herself in or do her best to violate and or exploit wards. The purpose of her visit was a very straigtforward one. (D)

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Wilhelm VorKrieg

Marsol did not get what Cirgoth said at first but when the light bulb went on for him he was quick to reach out to his lord via mindspeak to try to prevent the loss of his child's life as well as that of Ariela's by default. Try all he liked however by then it was far too late for him to do any saving of anyone. Instead he was met with the cold harsh reality that both the she-devil and their unborn child were no more. Though he tried to contact Sammael to appeal to his reason not to allow the death of Ariela he was met with a brick wall of silence because wherever Sammael was he could not be reached via mindspeak.

Unable to accept the fact that a child begotten of him had just been killed, a child unborn, he tried harder to reach Sammael but to no avail. "They are already dead..." His amber gaze lowered to the ground as he slowed his steps where they walked to sit down on a waist high rock jutting out from the wall. Why did it matter though? He was free of her right? Free of her controling his will and deciding his fate, right? If he was "free" of her then why did it suddenly feel like his heart was shattering as the wind was knocked out of him? Why did it feel as though he'd lost a great deal more?

The guardsman that came down to invite them to breakfast was not looked at as Marsol nodded to their twin sons to head up to wash up before breakfast. A hand rested over his chest where he could still feel the ghostly weight of her cool amulet around his neck some time ago. A few minutes later he was heading up into the lair proper along with Cirgoth to join the rest for breakfast.

It was within seconds of coming out of that underground city that he caught a scent he thought he'd never inhale again. Could it be? He turned his head next to the small table where he stood next to his sons and Anwaar II and Nuni all chatting about how turkey bacon wasn't as good as boar bacon, scenting the air carefully. It was disconcerting. Confusing at the least to him. Telling all the children to stay inside with Wryvaust, Lady Arilwen, Cirgoth and the guardsmen, Marsol asked Gilrieal to come with him outside to see about this visitor he sensed here. He made it clear that he wanted their children to be with Cirgoth and Wryvaust and Arilwen whom would keep them safest inside the wards.

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It was well their visitor did not attempt to violate the wards of the Raven for she would have found some very unpleasant and serious repercussions to any such attempt. Ward breaking beyond the common methods of spending hours and or massive amounts of energy trying to overpower and break them down, was something VERY few could do, a unique and sublimely rare feat. One the visitor lacked. Now when it came to anyone who looked like Ariela or anyone who was affiliated with Sammael? There would be NO passage granted into his city beyond the gates. She had only been allowed to get as far as she had was because the guards had let her get that far. Her influence had gotten her to the gate in other words. Once there, she had to wait.

Wyrvaust was just helping Marsol's twins pick out some food, and was telling Nuni she did not NEED any coffee, when his spine stiffened to straighten his back like an arrow. His cheeks ticked and nostrils flared as he received news of Ariela's arrival from the guards and of who she was? Wyrvaust sent a reply back that she was to IMMEDIATELY withdraw to the mouth of the canyon known as the Eastern Corridor, where multiple camps were set up, and there wait for someone to meet her. He would not honor her with word of WHO would be meeting her. He had intended it to be himself, but then... Marsol arrived.

When Marsol motioned to Gilriael to follow him out, Wyrvaust strode over to him quickly to stand in front of the door. "My Lord... I should accompany you... Please..." He looked between Marsol and Gilriael briefly then locked his gaze on Marsol to see one hell of a look... a commanding look whose meaning the Raven could not mistake. Cheeks clenching he bowed his head to him and as he did, he was commanding his guards, every last one of them, to guard King Marsol, but not to crowd him. "My Lord..." he submitted, sort of. How far the courier got before Marsol and Gilriael caught up to her depended on how fast she rode.

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Vespera was not surprised or put off by the lack of a warm welcome. In fact she had been somewhat surprised that none had immediately attempted to engage her in combat, detain, or otherwise cause delay to her relatively straightforward task. It seemed that it was very likely that she'd be confused for her dead sister, though many would make that mistake, after all she and Ariela looked exactly alike, smelled and tasted exactly alike, and bore a 'signature' that only those rather intimately familiar with the two of them might suss out as being entirely different things. In that much her task only seemed straightforward right? She'd gotten that far. When one of the black guard informed her of his masters reply? She sort of smiled, nodded, and mounted her steed in graceful yet hasty series of motions before going about complying with the wishes of the domain's lord. She rode at a brisk pace to the mouth of the canyon as instructed. Once there she did not bother dismounting. (D)

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Marsol was out of the lair with Gilrieal and Cevari, if he decided to come with them, to find out if it really was who his senses was telling him it was. Gathering up a few horses he would ride with Gilrieal and Cevari to the canyon mouth where Vespera awaited them atop her own steed. Even at a distance he saw her and instantly his gut coiled with a desire he'd never felt before or since for anyone. As far as looks and scent went it was certainly her. Yet was it? Pulling up fifty feet short of where she was he narrowed his eyes at her as he shifted in his saddle to lean forward slightly. He didn't speak at first. Rather he studied her from afar as he tried to keep his head about him. However, his heart was another matter entirely. Finally he said, "State your business, lass."

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Cirgoth stood obligingly only for a very short time. The manner in which his heart hammered in his chest while his stomach reached the very bottom of his being made him physically nausious as Marsol and Gilriael left, leaving him behind. They had not long disappeared through down the hallway when Cirgoth went after. Wyrvaust moved then into HIS path, only Cirgoth stared him down with his bright green eyes. "No one is the master of me," he said in deep tones which defied him to keep him from his goal. Wyrvaust held his gaze a moment as thoughts of Amaru and Ardwyr being left... parentless and he felt the same sense of being left behind as Cirgoth did, only the Raven could not disobey his king... not directly, but he HAD taken many precautions Marsol was not even aware of. He smirked at Cirgoth then and stepped aside to let him.

"No, the Raven is not the bird's master." And for that he was grateful and that Cirgoth WAS his own man. Not even Aegius owned him, not really. Cirgoth's heart owned him. He was on the same path as the Anduain Belorian was, a path that had proved lonely and arduous for the immortal otherwise known as Eoghan. Cirgoth saw only Marsol on that path... He was hardly ready to throw in the towl, though he had seen that look... smelled the same scent which had drawn the dragon he still thought of as his mate. Surely Marsol was not that... fickle... Cirgoth had not been gone THAT long... he had not left unannounced... not left without explanation and Marsol had never protested. He SAW that look... that NEED to go and SEE. Cirgoth was not sure exactly what it meant, but it meant nothing good for Marsol, himself, or the children, of that he was sure. So... he went after and caught up quickly by whatever means he needed to use. He was there, trailing just behind them, when Marsol greeted the girl. Cirgoth recognized her immediately. It was Ariela... the girl who carried his children, or at least, that is what he believed. He did not speak... not yet. He wanted to hear what business she conveyed.

Gilriael noticed Cirgoth arrive, silent and unobtrusive, but such a look of anxiety and pain was written on his features and in silence borne. The dragon saw in his eyes and his face the treacherous end of loving anyone... the agony that came with bliss and hope and all things good when evil planted its flag in it. His eyes thinned on the Ariela look alike. How could they ever trust ANYTHING she had to say. "Beware the source of this, My Lord," Gilriael whispered to Marsol, leaning in lips to his ear to do so.

The younger dragon's pale violet eyes then locked on Cevari as his thoughts carried him to dark and sorrowful places. Could he bare to love and then be betrayed by him? He suddenly feared what they had. If Marsol could betray Cirgoth's heart... anyone could disown another. Gilriael suddenly doubted the overwhelming love he felt, afraid evil would lay ruin to it.

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Arilwen was in a blissful haze when her husband curled into bed with her, wrapping her up into his long arms. She had so immediately been swept up with anger when he returned that she hadn't taken note of who had or had not returned with him. The Swan lifted her head to stare at her husband while realization overtook her. He had returned safely and Nic had not. It was a test of Memnoch's actual protection. No blind faith needed for their protector; He had delivered. Hot tears started to spill down her cheeks and she shook her head when he immediately got that look that Wyrvaust tended to get when she cried. Was it his fault? No. She shook her head again and her voice cracked. "How are we so lucky to be protected by him? If Mekkor had gotten ahold of you, I swear I would have stripped the planet and seven hells to drag him to my feet and make him pay." Gritting her teeth she pressed her wet face to his bare chest. "I love you so much that 'love' is not an appropriate word. It cheapens what I feel for you." Wyrvaust would have no more tears from his wife and doused the lights to soothe her with his hands and whispered words and bare skin and lips.

The next morning the two bathed and dressed, Arilwen in a smart, light-weight dress of clay-red silk so that she could stay cool in the kitchen while they baked. She saw Memnoch smile and settle down with coffee and a paper. She had decided to say thank you in the best way she knew for Memnoch... sweet food. Here? Chocolate chip pancakes with thickened cream and sugared berries. She brought the piled plate to sit it on the table in front of him, then wrapped her arms around his neck from behind and hugged him fiercely. He would hear her swallowing the threat of tears again so she couldn't speak, but she kissed each of his cheeks and then his hair before moving quickly back to the kitchen. He had kept her husband safe... And she had thrown a cup at him. He deserved special breakfast.

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Little as Arilwen was wearing Wyrvaust was wearing even less. A brick red, ochre, ivory and gray sarong with desert patterns on it wrapped his waist and nothing more other than the necklace he was wearing that Arilwen had made for him and which he had enchanted. The nice thing about living underground was that it stayed cool, but the kitchen was the one place it got hot, though it could be fairly quickly cooled by opening a set of vents. Regardless of how hot it had gotten, Wyrvaust had not broken a sweat. He could regulate his own temperature to stay cool as an abyss demon.

Memnoch absolutely beamed when the Desert Swan served him all those delectably sweet pancakes. He felt like crying when she hugged him because for all the desires he had granted others she was granting his own by making him feel like he truly belonged there with them. His arms came up and wrapped around hers to hug her back by squeezing those lean arms coiling his neck and for a moment his cheek also nuzzled against her. He had a look of worshipful amazement across his handsome but oh so pale features when she kissed him so innocently and sweetly. He might have wondered why all the fuss if he wasn't perfectly aware of why she [i]wanted[/i] to thank him. He was smiling happily as he watched her return to Wyrvaust's side.

Wyrvaust held his gaze for a moment then smiled just a little at him. It was his way of extending some trust but there was also a warning spark in his twilight blue eyes which told him, don't tread on the faith I offer. Memnoch smiled back at him brightly. He would never dream of doing any such thing. He wished with all his strange and whimsical heart that he could be their's as much in the indulgent sense as an emotional one.

This whole thing with Marsol worried the winter devil. He'd had no chance to form any kind of trust or understanding with the dragon everyone thought of as so irascible. Now he was off chasing that same bit of tail by a new name and id. He needed to shake himself free of the one who had died so he could know if what he was feeling was at all real. If it was? Well just because it smelled the same and looked the same did not make it the same. True, broken hearts happened and it was his business whose hearts he left trampled beneath his mighty talons, but, until all untrue and residual influence was erased, he was incapable of making any kind of sound judgment. Everyone who protected him knew this. He might be moving too fast at this moment. The wards still bound him to the canyon for a reason. He was not ready to rely on his own wings to carry him just yet. It was still far too soon. And yet...? Kings had ridden on the backs of their wild mistakes for eons. Some rose to power despite them. Others perished because of them. The worst left kingdoms and countless lives in ruin as they ran headlong into them. Marsol had already chased one devil into Hell. Memnoch had no authority to deprive the desert chief of his oversights, but he would do what he could to help the dragon if he saw him drowning.

Wyrvaust served the last of their company an omelet, bacon, buscuits and coffee. It was Grym, who blushed to be served by his master who knew exactly what he liked to eat. Wyrvaust patted him on the back then went to fix his own plate. He dipped his finger in the delicious berry topping Arilwen had made and sucked it off, his eyes smoldering on Arilwen as he did. "Mmmm... Wonderful," the growl of appreciation a sensuously lusty one. He spooned some onto a biscuit, his plate also filled with an omelet topped with green onions, several slices of crispy bacon, and some fresh fruit, then waited for Arilwen, and when her plate was ready he went to sit beside her. He placed his large mug of coffee down then slipped into his chair, his hand brushing against her back then upward beneath her long locks of curling hair. For a little while he massaged her neck before leaning in to press a lingering kiss against the corner of her mouth. Hence he smiled and ate, something he took his time with, enjoying each bite.

His outter calm and unworried demeanor was an act. He was fraught and felt quite panicked inside. Every minute seemed as an eternity to him as he waited, wondered, imagined what could be going on outside. Last time Ariela had arrived terrible things had happened. Why Marsol had not just ordered him to oust her vexed the demon. Wyrvaust had already extended the wards to the corridor and ITS gates. No one would be coming or going through THAT gate but by Wyrvaust's blessing.

There had not been just three riders approaching Vespa, but an entire regiment, about half of them mounted, numbering about fourty-five altogether, which though they kept their distance, gradually encircled the entire party at the center. And... there was Cirgoth who might have been worth a regiment himself. Between the wards, the full guard, the weyrdragon and the Tsetar, Wyrvaust felt confident enough not to act against Marsol's wishes and follow him anyway. Among them was Hiall, a sun elf, who contacted Wyrvaust to report that he would inform him of anything important as it arose, as would others if it became necessary. Consequently he filled Wyrvaust in. This message allowed Wyrvaust to relax substantially and far more sincerly.

Not wanting to alarm the children, he leaned in close to Arilwen and whispered to her. "We've a known enemy at the gate who entreats an audience with Marsol... the very one who attacked Anna and Gosha. He is well guarded." He informed and assured her. He continued to eat but remained close enough to Arilwen for her to speak intimately with him.

Memnoch meanwhile was entertaining Nuni and the other youngers with more tales of pagentry and dragons. He obviously genuinely loved children and despite everything going on he seemed perfectly relaxed and untroubled which put others around him at ease.

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Arilwen sniffled a little as she unwrapped her arms from Memnoch. Pregnancy hormones were a heck of a roller coaster and she tried to reign it in before she sat down and started bawling her eyes out. Giving him a little pat on the shoulder, she moved back to Wyrvaust to crack some more eggs into a large bowl so that they could work on Grym's omelette. It was when she looked up to see Wyrvaust slowly sucking berry compote from his fingers that her stomach lurched. "Watch it." She grumbled, dumping vegetables in the egg mix. "I will drag you into the bedroom for a week and that would make us inhospitable hosts." That threat made Wyrvaust grin.

Once they settled with the rest of the group at the table, Arilwen wasted no time digging in. The early nausea days were over. Her plate was piled higher than typical, but she ate slowly to make sure she didn't overwhelm her stomach. The tip of her knife slowed with its cuts when the Raven leaned in to whisper to her. Her fingers tightened on her silverware and she kept her eyes on her food.

"Do they have Anna?" She whispered back, then cut a small bit of pancake. She desperately wanted her best friend back and was frustrated with the slow movement of it all.

Nuni was recovering from quite the night. The game of tag in the garden has turned....interesting. She had been racing after Memnoch and he kept increasing his speed, eventually frustrating her to the point where she wished the ground would turn open up and swallow his feet to slow him down. She imagined it too seriously and suddenly the ground seemed to turn to liquid , sucking Memnoch in up to his chest. It immediately made Nuni scream and rush to his side where she fell to her knees and began clawing at the earth. She was hysterical. All she could imagine was her birth parents on the day they died and she was sobbing so hard that she could catch a breath.

And Memnoch had been laughing in delight. That confused her enough to bring her from sobbing to snuffly hiccups and Memnoch explained that she had done that. Was he mad? It took some time to calm her enough to coach her along with instructions on how to reverse it....how to loosen the earth with her mind to let him free. Nearly half an hour if coaxing had produced results and when he climbed free, Nuni threw herself into his arms. He was filthy and she was shaking violently. "Did I kill my parents?" She had asked him, face wet with tears. Had she gotten mad about her long day of work and asked the ground to swallow them? Memnoch assured her in very soothing tones that she had not caused that. Nature had.

This morning she was feeling better and eating a pancake as Memnoch spoke to them. She loved his stories and liked to try to repeat them to her eggs.

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Wyrvaust not only grinned at his wife's threats but laughed in a clever way that left no doubt that he would not mind what she warned him of at all. The Raven then watched her ere she ate to take as much time as he, then when he passed on their own daily headlines and it led her to ask after Anna, he smiled just a little because on that point he had good news to tell.

"Beloved, Swan. The daughter of Marsol has to her father been returned. The Balrog of the Deeps, Mendorin, accepted the Raven's terms to exchange Anna for his acolyte Dantes. Tender Heart resides in down below now in dragon keep with her father. Snakeson is forbidden to be near her for any extended period of time until we can be sure the danger to Gosha, Anna, and others is passed." He was still speaking quietly and for her ears alone.

Memnoch had known there had been something amazing about Nuni and was excited that he now knew it to be true. Had he suspected the truth he'd have been a combination of dismayed, mortified and perhaps even terrified, but maybe even curious and intrigued. Memnoch in his way was among those immortals in the universe who were the most powerful because the path of power he commanded was absolute, but unlike Acheron and Leviathan with their proxies, the feats he possessed were specialized. The accidental sand trap incident had amused him tremendously but he had made sure Nuni knew it was a flashflood, and that such natural disasters claimed many lives, particularly when people ignored or missed the warnings.

Now he was telling her, Anwaar, Ardwyr, Amaru and even little Gosha and her nanny the tale of when he and Aegoth had explored the dark and ancient forests of Morashtar together, from sea to vast blue sea, and of all the elves of many feline colours, spots, and stripes they had seen, and of the gargantuan magnificent trees so many of them lived in. He described the phosphorescent torches nature had provided the feline folk both dangling from the tree limbs and in the caverns formed of either root or stone. He painted mental pictures of he and Aegoth soaring betwixt the canyon like gulfs between the giant trees and recounted stories of how the winter dragon and dark fallen had won the hearts of elves above and below by speaking plain and helping them in simple but meaningful ways.

Wyrvaust thought as he spoke that he had won their hearts and trust in much the same way. It made him think of something he needed to say. He first spoke it aloud but very quietly to himself. Then in his mind reached out to appeal to Marsol with that very same belief.

"Trust should never be achieved through deceit, nor can the deceitful ever be trusted. If trust cannot be attained with honesty, it should not be bestowed at all." He wanted Arilwen to hear his thoughts on the matter as well because of the faith he had placed in Memnoch so soon. Even Nic, despite all his wavering and skipping about had been in earnest about his indecision.

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Arilwen was in the process of cutting a neat triangle of her pancake when the Raven quietly passed on the news that Anna was returned. So much for quiet, because the Swan dropped her fork and knife onto her plate with a clatter, her huge eyes darting to her husband. No one really paid much attention to her because so many people were carrying on their own conversations. "She....she is home?" She tried to keep her voice to a trembling whisper, rubbing her palms on the smooth material that covered her thighs. "Is she safe? Is she coming up? Can I see her?" The Swan looked ready to burst from her skin. She was too excited to eat any more.

Nuni had mostly recovered from the night in the garden. It had frightened her horribly and it took Memnoch some time to assure her of the natural order of things. She used both hands now to drink her juice from the cup in front of her while she listened to another episode of the Memnoch and Aegoth epic. She adored these stories.

Once she put her cup down and wiped her mouth, she fiddled with the edge of her napkin. "I wish he could be here to see his children born." She sounded so mournful... That young mouth turned into a very serious frown.

Arilwen quieted when she listened to her husband's profound words and she smiled softly, reaching over to take his hand in both of hers so that she could kiss the top of it. "Well said, my heart." She murmured.

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Wyrvaust's hands covered Arilwen's in a calming clasp when questions of Anna tumbled from her. "The chieftain of us has yet to speak to his eldest of her captivity for just returned she. When Marsol is confident his tender heart is herself after such an ordeal, she shall be free to visit and be called upon. Be not troubled though, love. Morgrym assured your mate that gentle heart is in excellent health and that her spirits are high all circumstances considered." He squeezed her hand then ate another bite of food then drank more coffee.

Memnoch eyed Nuni a moment after Aegoth's absence was mentioned by her. "He is well now, Dove, but sealed within the kingdom of our father. Summon him I can, but the desert doesn't suit him any better than it does me and his size is... enormous, as immense as dragons come on this world. Though the desert is vast enough for him, it is too hot for such a winter dragon as he. I will call him when the night comes, however, for winter dragons only hatch at night..." unless they are fated, he thought. Being fated was not something he would wish on any being.

Where Arilwen approved of the creed Wyrvaust expressed his indigo blue eyes drifted a moment then locked on his beautiful wife. "Your Raven is horribly worried about his Lord. If not for his Swan's beauty and goodness he would most assuredly come undone mind and temper." He wanted her to be aware of the edge he stood on in case he needed her help.

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What exactly was he doing? Riding out to meet his enemy head on? Something like that. However as soon as he laid eyes on her he was reminded once more of just how powerful the craving for her truly was. It was so much worse to see her there alive before him than just to hear her voice tormenting him with the promise of the darkest of things. Even the emotional upheaval it caused paled in comparison to the havoc just looking at her reeked on his human body. Could he deny the insane lust he felt towards her? Not at all. Could he lie to himself about how he wanted her clothes on the floor of his bedroom? No. All he could do was try to get a handle on his own inner storm of anger and carnal urges as best he could. A small nod was made to what Gilriael said as he held her gaze... A gaze he thought he would never see again yet here she was bringing herself near danger to deliver him something? What was in the sack she tossed him? Why wouldn't she just dismount? Why did she feel so frigid to him? Questions started to tickle at that cold sinking feeling he got in his gut when something bad was about to happen. Catching the bag he held it out at arm s length to probe it for hazardous energies or other traps as he nudged his horse forward at a slow pace. His mouth opened about to bark at her for being cryptic with him when the majority of him wanted to ravish her right there on the sand under the heat of the sun until they were both spent, when he swore he smelled more of her inside that knapsack. Her and... something else. Something just as sweet and... no. His brows furrowed as he stopped his horse from getting any closer to her, despite the raging hard-on trying to kill him, to almost tear the knapsack open to see its contents. It took all of his willpower to fight those strong urges that bid him to go to her instead of sitting on his black Appalusian horse. What would he find in that knapsack of black and golden threads?

Vespera:
"What has been taken from us"... The 'us' emphasized there could have been taken as being cryptic or otherwise. "Can never be taken back"... From Marsol surely, yet Ves? She'd lost her sister and her sisters unborn child(ren). Yet she said nothing beyond that which might have clarified one way or the other a great many things. It was both straightforward an exchange, and then all at the same time not so straightforward at all. She looked like her sister. She smelled like her sister. She tasted like her sister. So much so that it could never be faulted of another for mistaking the two for one another, yet Ves had not clarified that she in fact was not her sister. Did she presume that Marsol knew the difference, assumed so, had been told or shown so? She was not here sister, and did not play her sisters games... though she did not do a lot of things, or say halfway expected things where it might have been decent or obligatory either. There was a purpose in that too. She smiled as Marsol held the caught sack at arm s length and inspected it, and rightly so, yet there was nothing in that sack that could physically harm him. Unless of course the contents drove him to suicide or some other reckless behavior. No. There was no poisoned contents, diseased, explosive, arcane fuckery, or anything of the like contained in that sack. Nor were there roses or kittens.

"Open the sack, chieftain"... She bid Marsol. Her facial expressions were controlled, neutral, if not cold yet her eyes sang of different things. Come hither things best left to imaginations between silken sheets. It was Sammael's parting gift to Marsol in that sack, in a way Ariela's as well as it contained the only physical remains in existence that yet bore her scent other than Ves herself. A cut lock of Ariela's braided hair bound with a crimson ribbon, and children s clothing. There were some six sets of children s clothing, newborn to be precise, both boys tunics and girls dresses that had been meant for the twins Ariela would have spawned, smeared were the garments with the blood from the womb of Ves' obliterated twin. "He did not want this. I do not want to be here now doing this"... "If not for the meddling of"... She decided not to finish that sentence, shutting her mouth with a sort of smile both seductive and provocative. He was a smart boy. She shook her head somewhat, glancing then and only then from Marsol to his two companions. "It is done, and come what come"... She would remain there long enough to witness the opening and not a moment longer. By his reputation for wrath, even bearing the exacting visage of his lost lady love so confusing, she was not entirely sure that she was immune to becoming an accosted or killed messenger... and she was not there for 'that'.

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The fact that Vespera had made it through the first gate into the Eastern Corridor, much LESS as far AS the second gate into the narrow canyon gully closer to the lair, it was still quite far away from the actual garden and back entrance to the lair, WITHOUT her EXACT identity being made crystal CLEAR was an utter fluke OR to do with someone's decisions to let her get as far as she had before Wyrvaust had ordered she be sent back as far as the Eastern Corridor's encampment.

Even while Wyrvaust sat having breakfast with his wife he had spoken via his thoughts, especially during the lulls in their conversation, to the guards about their utter failure in protocal and how it could have POSSIBLY happened. Evidently, it was all Hiall's idea, the elf ranger slash demon hunter whom Wyrvaust HAD placed in charge of the guard because of his experience, to place a potential enemy within their grasp, so that the instant Wyrvaust gave the word, she could be seized by either them, or failing that, captured by the wards. At first Wyrvaust had been angry that Hiall had taken such an initiative without consulting with him first, but knowing he had to be able to rely on his people, he had calmed down since the initial announcement of Ariela being at the second gate. Wyrvaust would not have let her enter the first gate into the eastern corridor in the first place. The canyon had FOUR gates. One gate at each valley corridor east and west, the two mouths of the horseshoe shaped canyon, and one gate a quarter mile out of each entrance to the lair, east and west. The entire canyon was also warded, the ward levels varying from area to area but able to be extended full force by a mere command from Wyrvaust. His wards were more powerful now than they had ever been before, and he excelled at building wards, always had. If Vespera felt in control of her own situation, it was because the guards had LET her feel that way.

It was as she threw that bag to Marsol that a dozen of the guards moved in to surround her about three yards out from her. Being that they could ALL phase, meaning vanish from point A and phase back in at point B, their movements could be as quick as a blink, or they could phase out just to disappear for awhile then reappear elsewhere a short time, or a fairly long time after. It made for excellent tactical movement and was something Wyrvaust simply built into the creation of his Black Minions. It was an innate feat they could all perform. They did no such thing however when closing in on around Vespera in a semicircle however, with Marsol and his companions on the other side of her. They were on horseback, the guards who moved in to surround her back and flanks.

Hiall then came around from behind them and rode to place himself on the other side of Marsol. Gilriael was on his right side, which placed Hiall at his left. "You will identify yourself now plainly and clearly and state exactly what your business here is." The sun elf's commanding tones gave no doubt that he would tolerate no surreptitiousness from her.

The canyon was already on lock down, had never been taken off of it. Only those specifically selected by Wyrvaust as well as a few unknown others through words of power could come and go from the canyon at will. Vespera had been allowed entry.but she had not been selected to LEAVE. She could only leave by Wyrvaust's consent. The Sapphire Canyon was a Sanctuary. It was a place of peace and protection having a very powerful shrine at its center which Wyrvaust was the Hierophant of. He was not the most ancient of chaosian priests by far, but he HAD dedicated his life to his practices and to his sanctuary. Why did Marsol place so much trust in an insane rogue demon? Because despite all his flaws Wyrvaust was devoted to his chieftain, to the protection of their tribe, and in his own way had great wisdom, when he was not in an utterly broken state. Even then he maintained some of his wisdom. He was a massively flawed being but what he took seriously he poured his heart and soul into. He HAD become quite powerful over the centuries.

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Orcus:
The ribbon tied lock of blonde hair and sets of infant clothing was looked at in disbelief surrounded by a river of fast boiling anger. Although for all intents and purposes the she-devil before him looked, smelled, probably tasted, like Aerila it was in that moment he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that it was not her. Some cruel spell to make her appear so? No. Bits and pieces of memories from his time being a guest under Sammael's roof without the shackles or chains came back to him. The realization dawned in the burn of his amber eyes that he knew she was Vespera. In his defense it honestly was next to impossible to tell the two apart unless you really knew them. That was how he came to the conclusion that she was Vespera and Ariela really was dead. That and this was some sick joke. Something meant to add that extra little pinch of cruelty to an already awful and unstable situation. Tightening his grip on the infant clothing he settled back in his saddle as Hiall tried to interrogate the truth from Vespera. Which was to say the elf ranger would have better luck with a bullfrog playing Bach on a grand piano. Though for Marsol is was difficult just being in her presence and not thinking of Ariela or how tangled up his heart was over her however he did his best to keep his hands on the knapsack and not around Vespera's throat. "You must have known in coming here, you would not be allowed to leave. Why then did you risk your own freedom lass." Marsol's tone was as controlled as he could make it without grinding his teeth into white powder. The muscle in his lower jaw tighten as the thought that two of his own children were killed before he ever got the chance to even know them fueled his rage. Just children. Sure begotten of a very dark tree But still, they'd been his...

Ariela:
She paid the gaggle of the domain lords troops or the elf ranger who'd spoken to her no immediate mind for the moment that Marsol dared to open the sack. She was there for a specific purpose and it had nothing to do with them. She'd already stated what they needed to know in regard to her intent and purpose, anything else was a waste of breath other than for her intended. Now when Marsol had held the contents in his hands, it was about the moment in time that his rage became obvious to even those unaccustomed to him that everything in the sack, and even that sack itself, dissolved on the molecular level rapidly and appeared to have turned into superfine dust in his hands which just as quickly blew away on the air. The air contaminated by such particles shimmered for a moment, not quite self-obliterating, but by effect of Sammael's doing. Vespera canted her head slightly with some small hint of a smile as her gaze lazily shifted from Marsol, to Hiall, and then back to Marsol. She'd given a derisive snort at Marsol's verbal supposition of her not being allowed to leave, which well it appeared to be the domain lord's intent at least by way of the posturing of his troops. "That is just the thing. I did not arrive by surreptitious means. I did not engage in any form of hostility. I announced myself to your Host's guard, all adhering to what it proper conduct of a messenger"... She smiled sweetly. "I suppose it had been addressed, the possibility that your host would attempt to deny me my meeting with you. Or that you yourself would have refused, but alas here we are. It was also always a possibility, I suppose, that your host could choose to ignore proper protocols when receiving a messenger or diplomatic envoy despite his own personal opinions one way or the other pertaining to that envoys lord"... "I will repeat myself. I am here as a messenger. I am here under the auspices of the Desert Wind"... "Call me Ves Now you fine 'lads' are poised to do your masters bidding. I can respect that. I won't hold it against you if you decide to do something bold unwarranted without provocation"... "Though my father might"... As in if they thought they were going to arrest her? They had something else coming for their trouble. Was that a threat, the bit of mentions of daddy? No. It was just a statement of fact. She was 'just saying'. Placing her under arrest, or attempting to, or any other hostile activity towards her weather successful or not was probably not a good idea strategically. It would more than likely spell a whole world of devastation for the people of that domain, the lord of that domain, that was just as easily avoided. She shrugged her shoulders. Did she care one way or the other? Not really. "So"! She smiled that bewitching smile of hers at Marsol. "My dear, darling, almost sort of ex-brother in law or whatever the fuck you two had going on"... "What are you feeling"?... "Are you content with message received, to watch me ride off to where I came from"? ... "If so I'd advise you to advise your host that this is probably for the best"...

Orcus:
His nostrils flared at the audacity of the hellish vixen before him. She showed not one bit of fear for her own life atop her horse. Maybe it was bravado. Maybe it was some wild ass ignorance. Or maybe, just maybe, it was the truth she spoke so smugly that Marsol wanted to knock her teeth down her throat. Yet he had to know. He just had to. "DO NOT TEST ME!" The roar that bellowed from him shook the sand beneath them and left many of the horses at ill ease. After all horses were one of the things his kind were offered in return for safe passage through these territories. They made a decent enough snack. Without the lock of hair or infant clothing he was left with nothing in his hands as he watched it all turn to dust that blew away in the wind. "Who killed them, tell me this and I will make your stay as my prisoner very brief." Marsol already drew on his innate earth abilities to conjure a trap for Vespera comprised of the very sand her horse stood on. It would be a sort of sand prison, much like the fire one he had been known to create to ensnare his most loathed of enemies inside. Whether she answered him or not she would be taken prisoner. Then again some of the guardsmen were inching closer to her with their weapons ready. Perhaps too close?

Ariela:
Call it bravado, keeping her cool, or even belligerence? Sure. Was she a little more smug about it than she should have been? Sure. With his outburst her only response was a waggle of brows. "Feisty"... "I can see how Ariela enjoyed you". She laughed with what he'd known as her sisters melodic and quite infectious laughter. "Hmm"... She mused. "You know, I think you enjoyed her. I think deep down, no matter how you try to justify it in your head, no matter how undoubtedly others have tried to explain it away to you, that even as part of you hates and rages over it"... She brushed the fingertips of her gloved right hand over her breast just over her heart and mouthed 'love' at Marsol. "Oh and the children! Oh boy. You know, I am not entirely certain that she knew. I mean I was not told until after she'd been judged and the deed carried out, but if she had I do wonder"... She'd said, not indicating in any way that she'd noticed the trap set beneath her horses hooves. She had. "You know who killed them. I told you. Well, I implied it, but I'm telling you the truth in that he did not want 'this'. I really think having to kill his daughter, and his grandchildren... even those begotten of... you... Really did something to him. He carried out the sentence, in so much that he swung the proverbial sword, but who do you think rendered judgement? I'll give you a hint if you need one"... She smirked. She noted the guards inching closer, and closer. She certainly hoped the will-less not of their own goons knew what they were inching towards. War was coming, to someone, somewhere... but they were perilously close to bringing it upon their own lands on the same ticket if they did what they were setting up to.

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Niculaie shaking off the shock of his rebirth, pushed him selt up to his knees, digging deep to find the strength to get to his feet. "S.. vee..b--tch!" He couldn't speak right, his muscles were still weak, but he could feel his strength returning, it would come in time he figured as he crawled up a dune and then slid down the otherside, resing in the relative shade of that mountain of sand, it was exhausting just to crawl, and the sand felt like it was burning his flesh. The Temple Nephalim struggled on for a time, with the passing of hours he could feel his muscles relearning their basic function.

Niculaie had found himself walking for a time stumbling every so often as the heat bore down on him, sapping him of strength, the heat that was getting to him, he felt weak.. The sun had a way of testing a person out in the deep desert. "F..k...y...ugh!" Then Niculaie coughed violently as he staggered forward and then fell down a deep incline he had not expected and tumbled into a basalt basin where he smacked his head on a the stone ground, blacking out from the collision. Niculaie woke to a vulture packing as his head and he growled and sat up slapping the bird away and it flew off, Niculaie glared at the carrior feeder. The Russian born Temple Nephalim looked around the shady basin and noted the small pool of water and crawled toward it, he leaned in close and took and inhaled, smelling for any sort of natural toxins. He sensed no toxins. He leaned in and sipped of that water carefully, he would get his fill.. He had no water skin. He noted the sun was not quite so high, he should move on, come night it would become cold.

Once more on the move Niculaie found himself a bit better off thanks to the water, but the hit to his head had not helped. Still it would be best he found a township soon.. And he would find one indeed, as night fell, it was a small town. Hell he didn't even see a sign with a name or anything. He found himself crouched on a dune watching the town, seemed like the small village had a 'watering hole' that had some of the populace busy, drinking and such after the days toils. Maybe he could slip in and barrow a few things before anyone noticed? Maybe, he hoped so anyways.

Niculaie approached the town from the shadows of the west side of town, his feet carried him quitely through the scorching sands, and he stayed low. It was not a home he broke into though finally.. it was the local outfitter, where people bought or traded for clothes, hunting gear, even had a small selection of weapons. Niculaie used his claws to pry the window open and slipped in quietly enough. The russian male was pulling on clothes as he found them, choosing brown leather pants and green tunic and pulling a cleak around his shoulders.. soon boots were tightly laced and he snuck up to the counter where he pilfered a few more essential items, including a kukri He strapped to his right thigh.

Niculaie made a quick escape, out of the small town, not interested in sticking around, he knew what happened to theives in the desert and had no interest in losing any body parts tonight. Niculaie did not feel guilty, he needed what he had taken for survival, and would not feel bad for that. The Temple Nephalem still was having trouble trying to speak, it was a bit concerning.. Niculaie had more pressing concerns, like.. where the fuck was he? He needed to manage to find someone who could help him.. He glanced back toward that village, but decided against going back.

Niculaie had been born different than his mother, he had been special, given that his father was no normal man. Niculaie's father had been a true to life angel and as such, he had been something more than a crusader and less than an angel. Even now though he felt weaker than he had been before he had been made into a Reaver, why was that? Niculaie could not figure it out of course, but he pushed on all the same, drinking from the water skin he had pilfered and filled back in the town.
Niculaie knew he had to find someone to take him home, back to Marsol's neck of the woods, after all.. out here in he was as good as dead, even if he were immortal, lost in the sands was not something easily survived. Niculaie looked overhead to the moon, it was a full one that loomed over head ominously, pulling that cloak tight about him he pushed himself forward still.
The reborn felt like the walking dead as he moved toward the image of another village, this one was a bit larger than the last, he smiled.. Finally. And it was near down when he arrived and fell to his knees at the gates of the town, passing out on their doorstep no less.

Niculaie came to some time later, You are awake.. We thought you were dead, until the healer looked at you. Sorry. Nic opened his eyes and saw a younger fellow, maybe twenty-two? Thank goodness, for your healer, I rather like life above ground. Had they buried him, that really would not have done him any good at all. Niculaie was surprised, his words were forming properly now, and to that he was glad. Thanks for not burying me, could I bother you for a glass of water? He asked, as he sat up in the cott that he had been laid up in, he was still dressed, save for his boots had been removed as well as the Kukri. He assumed it was what he would have done if a random stranger arrived.

Niculaie was given water even allowed to eat as he had a conversation with Sfen, who had been the one to find him, Niculaie learned that there was a mage in their town, there was once many in this region, but only a single one remained. Niculaie was pleased to learn, and explained he had gotten lost and seperated from his caravan. Niculaie had been touched with something special, he could spin any lie as truth, and it had clung to him.. as did his ability to reave, though that was still unknown to him. Niculaie laughed, Thats what I get for being careless, and seeing as I have no money to my name, I guess they did not bother to slow down so I could catch up.

Niculaie had not yet had his weapon returned to him, they were cautious these people, that he could not fault them on.. He was a stranger. I shall go speak with your mage, about if I can get a lift home. Niculaie said, but his words seemed to be blown away by the sound of a horn that blew. The sound came from the west side of town, it was the warhorn of a group of raiders. Sfen looked paniced, Nic knew right away that something was off and he looked to Niculaie and tossed him his Kukri. Run, or fight. He said to the russian who reached down and picked up the fallen blade and nodded.

The raiders had no come in huge numbers, but they were fierce and ruthless. Niculaie needed to do his part to make sure the mage lived, he needed to get home, back to Gosha. Damnit. And so Niculaie went with Sfen, and helped to organise a defense. Though Niculaie was not as formidable as he once was, he still had his combat training he had picked up back in russia so long ago. The evening sun was setting when he found Sfen again kneeling over him, Niculaie felt that searing pain in his gut as the fellow applied pressure to his wound. That bastard, god damn it.

Memories from days long past bubbled to the surface, and Niculaie grabbed Sfen by the arm, Do not worry, just keep my body safe. He grunted in pain, the wound of course was mortal.. He would not survive it. Clo..ser. He bad Sfen, and whispered a location to him, it was the Eastern Corridor, Wryvaust, ask him to keep my body safe, I won't.. Be long. Niculaie soon stopped breathing, the Temple Nephalim met his mortal death, not even a day after his rebirth. There was no telling how long it would take.
Sfen would keep his word, and after cleaning Niculaie's body, they would drape him like they would any of their dead in those earthen robes. Niculaie's possessions carried along by the mage as the others bore the litter. To these people, the honored dead deserved no less, and they believed Nic to be one such, having fallen in defense of their town. When they entered the Eastern Corridor, they moved forward and would keep moving forward until they were stopped. When they were, Sfen would speak. I am here to see Wryvaust, And when asked to what business he spoke somberly, though he had not known Niculaie long, he had bonded with him in battle. I am here.. To deliver the remains of Niculaie, as per his final request. I was asked to give Wryvaust a message, I would see it spoken to the man. Sfen and the others carrying the litter moved to the shade and laid Niculaie down carefully, as they waited, Sfen intended to see Nic's dying request was followed as best it could be.

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The daughters of Lilith and Sammael were just rotten at the core, which was not surprising. If they thought themselves good, or thought each other good, then they had no clue what 'good' WAS. One down... Maelmorda had not ordered Ariela's death. His intent had been to discipline her which he had made clear to Sammael. "Before you kill her, try disciplining her..." had been HIS advice, so whatever the other witch was spewing that part WAS a lie, one heard by 'you know who.' He was very much tuned in to what the Achonians were saying about him especially if they were lying about him. Everyone DID. Still, -1 Vespera. Even as he lie in that deep deep snow in dreamland with his wife, he saw and heard them in that canyon. He was very watchful over that tribe lately, partly because of the entire Ariela drama, but also because of Memnoch being there, rumors of Levi's interest falling in the way of Wyrvaust, due also in part to the tensions between Sammael and Marsol, and just because he cared.

Hiall had figured it all out by listening. She was who she claimed. She was not the enemy Ariela, who was now dead, killed by her master, Sammael. So this Vespera was either a twin or doppelganger of the other. It was Ariela they were interested in capturing, and since THIS unwelcome guest WAS as she claimed, she would NOT be captured, not by Wyrvaust, HIS men, or HIS wards. Those were his orders and as he gave them, he stood from the table where he was enjoying breakfast with his wife, which he had half finished, and stepped away from the table.

"The Raven can delay no longer. Join the others he MUST." He said so rather angrily. Everything as it happened word for word was being reported to him telepathically by Hiall. Calming himself he kissed his wife then withdrew, phasing into shadows in stride to emerge from them again only a few seconds after standing between Marsol and the female demon. He pointed a rigid finger towards the main gate exit. "The daughter of sin will LEAVE NOW. She will speak NOT another WORD. She shall NEVER set foot in the kingdom of Marsol again on pain of a VERY painful and horrible death. Her task is done, now GO!" He would not repeat his commands. If she defied his edict then he had EVERY right to detain her AS a prisoner for proving herself an enemy BY refusing a direct command of the Lord whose lands she stood on.

Marsol alone could overrule Wyrvaust's commands. Wyrvaust was praying he would not, that he had the good sense NOT to. If he did... the Raven would do all in his diplomatic power to persuade Marsol to just LET her go, and support his servant's demands to the witch. It was not because he feared Sammael's wrath, it was because they needed to do the right thing here. As long as they remained in the right they had allies to call on if needed. They had JUSTICE on their side and justice went a long way in An Morendor AND in Acheron. Crazy as Wyrvaust was the people of Marsol's kingdom had looked to Wyrvaust when their king had gone missing because Wyrvaust COULD lead, he just hated to have to. But he knew the laws of land, land below and even some of land above and was a fair judge of people and situations though he WAS harsh with enemies. The people were accustomed to enemies being dealt with roughly and even appreciated it. Every crime and every criminal was judged by merit and deed.

It was about that time that the guards at the main east gate informed Wyrvaust there was another messenger with a 'delivery' for him at the gate. "What now...?" the demon hissed unhappily. He would see to THAT only after THIS was settled. Then something just overcame Wyrvaust, looking at this smug child who treated his king with such disrespect, no doubt ANOTHER enemy in the making, and at Marsol who looked like he was about to blow his scales all over Morashtar, he just became... fed up.

"A place of PEACE this is!" he shouted and before the girl could leave OR throw more insults the wards grabbed her and her horse and conveyed them as close to Sammael's gate as HIS wards allowed. The chaosian demon priest then turned to Marsol to just gaze on him a moment before he spoke. "Hiall spoke to the Desert Fox of all which here passed... Whatever truth there was... unborn children wear no clothes. Let not your enemies shake you. That IS their wish. To unravel the dragon and make him vulnerable to their cruelties. Unbalance him and open his wrath to bring his end." He then bowed deeply to Marsol. "Punish the Raven for obeying his own heart later if that is your wish, but let him see what else has come this way." He then submitted hence he stood and marched over to the main gate where he gestured to the keepers to open the way.

He approached the fellow Sven in the shade of the high fence in long strides and stopped several feet away from him. "The Raven has come. What does the stranger wish of him?" When the fellow told him of his news, Wyrvaust's brows knit and his eyes fell on the plain coffin bearing Nic's remains. "How did it happen?" he asked tonelessly and listened as the man answered him with the story of how Nic had died. Wyrvaust nodded slowly when Sven had ended the tale then walked over and placed his hand on the box and as he closed his eyes it sank into shadows and was gone as he shifted it into the bedroom of Nic's own keep in down below. He had also scanned Nic's remains for any traps, anomalies, marks, and to identify what he was. He had almost pulled him back when he found a great change in him... a great part of what he had been had gone... missing... but then he registered the reaver in him and the angel blood. It WAS him, not some look alike sleeper agent. Yes, Wyrvaust WAS paranoid.

When Wyrvaust opened his eyes he gazed off at the slope which rose away from the canyon mouth, then after an interval of silence he produced a small leather bag filled with gold that he handed to Sven. Wyrvaust had come by the gold and much more of it by selling the gems he had found just clearing the city. He sold the gems very secretly so no one would know from whence they came, but those who truly knew gems could often identify where they had come from. Sven had probably never seen even that much gold all at once in his lifetime. It was enough to improve one's life substantially. Wyrvaust had typically come by gold by selling and trading furs, hides, and the leather and things he crafted with them.

"The man may enter the corridor oasis if he wishes. There is water and shade he and his people may enjoy as long as he respects land and folk," he invited the man and his company, who could come and go from the corridor encampment as they liked as long as they caused no trouble. Anyone could take shelter in the corridor once their name and business was stated so long as there was space enough for them. Wyrvaust would let no area of the canyon get overcrowded.

Wyrvaust then turned and left the fellow and reported to Marsol that Niculaie's body had been delivered as a corpse minus all aspects that were demon. "Mekkor must have unmade him..." He guessed right, but shook his head because he knew he had to be right. "Why would Mekkor show him such a mercy. Mercy is not exactly in his nature." He didn't trust it, and it never occurred to him for even a second that Mekkor may have mellowed over the ages, not even for a second.

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Cevari seemed to be in high spirits, over all. And why not? He and Gil had shared something very special, as far as he was concerned. He had indeed decided to accompany Marsol and Gil. He rode well, of course. Hadn't he come prancing up to the front door on his steed, the day he first met Giriael, before he decided to scare the pants off him by turning dragon? Ah, memories. So nostalgic. So sweet.

He held his tongue, amazingly, for once in his life, as they reached their destination. Hey, he figured he was here to observe, not chatter everyone's ears off. He felt Gil's gaze on him, after Cirgoth arrived, and turned his head to meet his gaze, raising those fine dark brows at him. He moved closer to lean, and murmur into his ear, "Penny for your thoughts, love?" His voice was soft, smooth and reassuring. He sensed something there, though he could not possibly know Gil's exact thoughts. He could tell something was up, though.

And then there was his brother, and damned if he didn't know how to make an entrance. He was going to have to get some tips from him, huh? Perhaps there were better times to discuss whatever was bothering poor Gil. #

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Gilriael didn't often want to eat people but this was twice in so many days he would have LOVED to break dragon and feel someone's bones crunching and blood running hot between his teeth. THIS from a creature who never attacked first. Who only ever submitted to violence if done unto him or someone under his protection first. The way she looked JUST like the one who had attacked Anna, her smugness, the tone she took with Marsol, tried to goad him, goad his people with him, intended or not, had his flesh prickling with the instinct to explode from his skin. Gilriael worshipped Marsol as some might a god and to see him spoken to with such disrespect, more than that, with such maliciousness, to see him so hurt and angry, so... lost. It broke Gilriael's heart and enraged him at the same time. As dragons went Gilriael was usually very passive, but when his ire was up he was as dangerous as ANY dragon his age. He was not ancient but old enough to be of respectable power and size when he uncaged the shadowflame dragon in him. The tension was there from beginning to end.

When Cevari whispered in his ear Gilriael could only meet his dark blue eyes with another wounded look. "Marsol's pain is my own..." Were the only words he could muster at that moment, then Cevari's brother arrived. Gilriael could see the rage and frustration roiling in the Raven in the taut coils of his muscles. The bard could feel the fracturing Sammael and his people were causing in the desert so palpably he could almost reach out and touch it and taste it on his tongue.

Not an hour ago he had thought what he and Cevari had shared might be forever... might outlast the ages, and now... now? Love seemed a treacherous thing... perhaps THE most treacherous thing. The thought of Cevari being PRIED away from him by some enemy, or duty, or... anything. He could not bear the thought of it.

Wyrvaust wasn't there long before he was howling at Sammael's messenger, referring to her as the daughter of sin? A metaphor Gilriael was sure. Not even Sammael was cold enough to send his own daughter into his most hated enemy's hands... was he? As a messenger maybe, there was SOME safety in that task by procedure alone. The corner of Gilriael's mouth ticked slightly as he watched the outcome of this particular scenario only for his eyes to train on Cevari again. He drew in a deep breath as he realized he had not been guarding his thoughts, and felt suddenly vulnerable. Not because Cevari might have tripped over his notions but because Marsol or worse... anyone else including the daughter of his once upon a time master might have 'overheard' his mind spilling all over the place. He closed his eyes and raised his mental walls then tried to focus on the matter at hand.

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There was a tension in Cevari's frame that said he was picking up on the hostility toward this woman. Her tone had been bad enough, but he could feel the tension of the others practically rippling through the air. Gilriael's response was accepted with a slow nod. Okay. He'd accept that for now. He knew that much was true. Still, the way Gil had been looking at him earlier...? There had to be more to it. Still, that was a worry for later.

His gaze went to watch his brother, with a sort of almost fascination. It felt like he was still reacquainting himself with him sometimes, and seeing different sides of him was something Cevari faced with great interest.

It had not even occurred to Cevari that he might ever be pried away from Gilriael. This was the deepest he had felt for anyone in...well, ever. Let's be honest here. He'd had lovers, sure, but they had been passing fancies. What he felt for Gilriael was something far more intense. #

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Gilriael wasn't really sure why Marsol had chosen HIM to accompany him. He could charm with his voice, sure, he could put on one hell of a show as a dragon too, but he was the guy you put at the BACK of your procession with the mages. Gilriael had plenty of guts, he just wasn't a fighter. Well he was, but not by nature. Never had been. And being this close to anything which smelled of Sammael unbalanced him mind and heart. Sammael 'did' things to his carnal slaves. He got inside of them and it was almost impossible to shut him out. You loved him and despised him... were horrified of him and never felt safe without him, wanted to escape him and yet craved him like candied crack. Even the shadow of his presence made Gilriael feel small... so very small. But this girl... this slip of a girl who could have been a hundred times more powerful than himself for all he didn't know, made his heart boil and his skin burn. Dark vapors were escaping his flesh like smoke, but it was the shadow ether in him leaking out, and yet there WAS a fire burning deep down inside of him. Scales had begun to pop through his flesh, black scales tipped in red. His scales went two ways, red with black, when his battle zeal was up... but when they went black and red... he was really really pissed off or upset. Then... Vespera was gone, just like that... and Gilriael couldn't tell if Marsol was pissed off at Wyrvaust, or at himself. Marsol just glowered at the demon as he glady accepted any punishment then told him to wait while he attended that other business at the gate. For himself Gilriael was angry with Wyrvaust for not having let Marsol handle the situation. He seemed plenty sound but did Wyrvaust still not quite trust that Marsol was himself? Perhaps, but he HAD to LET Marsol stand on his own. Gilriael believed that with all his heart. Marsol was the KING. But then... if something DID happen to Marsol because they trusted his judgment too soon? Gilriael glanced at Marsol who could barely stand still, but stand still he did. Gilriael wanted to say something to him but had no idea of what TO say. He had to say something though.

"My Lord... What can I do to make any of this better? Tell me," he begged. Marsol only laid a heavy hand on his shoulder and squeezed tight. It hurt but Gilriael smiled just a little.

His pale lavender eyes then found their way to Cevari again. He felt so tangled up inside that he had to look away. He felt Marsol's hand tighten down on him even more then slip away. He felt... suddenly naked, as if Marsol had taken something from him. It was simply the sudden absence of his physical contact. Gilriael inhaled a deep breath then emptied his lungs through his nostrils. This standing around was making him feel restless too. Then Wyrvaust returned with some very strange news... Nic had been returned, but he was dead, his corpse had been moved to his keep in down below. Alright... so what did that MEAN exactly? Gilriael didn't know much about angels other than Wyrvaust had never trusted them much beyond Arilwen, and that they were a powerful bunch who had all fallen and been replaced by some even bigger assholes. And that they were immortal. But wasn't Nic a crusader? That meant dead was dead right, unless some fool resurrected him? Gilriael didn't know Nic was a Nephalim, did any of them? or know jack about Nephalim. There it all was, all laid out, and all that was left was a lot of questions. Why did Mekkor do anything? Is what Gil wanted to know.

"If only we could just kill Sammael and Mekkor, eh?" He finally said something he was thinking aloud. But it didn't end there. "Then we could have all their clan and all of Sammael's followers as our enemies. Oh the joy that would bring. Perhaps even the devil himself would finally have to act and turn us all into sand fleas for the birds to eat, only we would still be immortal, living inside of different birds' guts, burning in their acids, our own lovely hells. Hmph. I see no end to any of this but through peace... But two more stubborn creatures cannot be found in all the universe. How beautiful they are for being so uniquely obstinate. The worlds must marvel at the destruction they are willing to wage so as never to grasp tranquility. It's overrated, peace... boring, dull, no reason to sleep if one has quiet during the day." He spoke and laughed so blithely that it was impossible to tell if he meant all of it, was being sarcastic, or altogether joking.

Marsol regarded him a moment, grappled Cirgoth's arm, then scoffed like a dragon and walked away with his angel, flames and sand alike engulfing them in stride. The wards still in place as they were he chose to return to his massive keep in down below. Wyrvaust would be hearing from him soon no doubt.

Wyrvaust looked his brother and Gilriael over for a moment then pulled Cevari aside, telling Gilriael to excuse them for a moment. When they had some distance between them, Wyrvaust leaned over to brush his lips against his brother's ear. "Gold Tongue does NOT fare well where Sammael treads even through the mouths of others. Little Shadow must be as himself. Get to the heart of him," he advised in his own odd way.

Gilriael meanwhile began to meander back towards the canyon's eastern gorge. He looked a little lost. He had rather hoped Marsol would want his company if not his advice. Wyrvaust was beginning to think everyone was getting lost in the sand storm kicked up by the Desert Wind

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Niculaie woke to darkness, he could feel himself floating in a great abyss, it felt like he had been here for days now. The Russian born male could see nothing but darkness as he floated along, a deep chill bit into his bones as he wondered where he was now. Niculaie struggled to recall what had happened.. He remembered bleeding into the sand, there was intense pain.. Visions of his mother, of Anna and Gosha. Marsol, and his desert family.. Niculaie sighed, so this was it huh? He supposed he was not surprised that he did not make it to the shining gates of Heaven. "It was a good life, mostly.." He said into the darkness as he floated on, his eyes closing as he drifted into a restful state.

Niculaie was shocked from his rest though dragged downward into a world, it looked familiar.. the cold fields of his homeland he sat now on his knees as he looked around, his eyes moving over those who had once stood before him, comrades and enemies all. Niculaie had for the longest time been able to shut out his feelings when it came to the kill, but it had not always been that way, and a few deaths.. they weighed on his very soul. Niculaie could feel the eyes of his honored comrades as they bore into him, demanding why he let them die! They had families and dreams, yet they had died and he lived on, using the bodies of the dead to push himself onward. Niculaie had been born into a secret war, his mother had raised him on it, Niculaie remembered learning about how to reload a gun when he should've been finger painting.

The dead lashed at him with their tongues and whips of fire, demanding flesh, demanding reperation for being left to die. Of course there was one death above all he regretted. Yuri had been his closest friend, a truer comrade could not have been found.. But, Yuri, he chose the wrong path. Seduced and used by dark forces, Niculaie had been forced to purify him in defense of his mother. Niculaie had purified Yuri with a bullet between the eyes, he put down his closest friend. That had been Niculaie's descent into darkness of course. Yuri's betrayal had wounded him, Niculaie began to wonder though, if there was such a thing as absolute loyalty.

After several hours of watching that scene, he could not take it anymore and howled in anger, "Damnit, Yuri! You betrayed me, what did you think would happen?" Niculaie demanded, he was gasping as he could feel the dead clawing at him, tearing at his flesh, but he only growled louder. "You betrayed us, for what? Power? immortality?" Niculaie, closed his eyes then, "The man I killed was weak, he was not the Yuri I knew, that Yuri, he will live on through me. Be gone." Niculaie demanded, "Be gone, and never come back!" He could feel the blood streaming from the hundreds of wounds in his body, and then it was gone. Russia was gone as well.

Nic was once more alone in the darkness, and now he was forced to watch his greatest fears as they unfold around him. He got to live out the horror of those he had killed, and now he got to live an even greater strife.. Niculaie found himself at a funeral. The Reaver fell to his knees as he grasped the headstone shared by Anna and Gosha. To Nic it felt very real, it was like a knife to the heart. "My son.. My--Love." This was something no matter how hard he tried, this failure could not be numbed, and he screamed! Cried out in grief as there was nothing he could do.

"Weakling. You disgust me." Said another.

Niculaie looked up, he saw himself, and it laughed at him. This was the part of him, it was his malice, the part of him that was there when he pulled the trigger, when he shut off that emotion so that he could do what he was born to do, take the light from the eyes of those who had their tickets drawn.

"Shut up, what do you known." Somehow in this surreal world, speaking to another version of himself did not seem odd at all. That inner demon of his just laughed, "If you weren't slowing me down, I could have done what was needed, and we would not be watching you sob like a little bitch over the grave of our family, you idiot!" Niculaie looked about the family cemetary, and then pushed to his feet, "Shut up, and go away!"

The embodiment of malice just laughed, "I will never go away, you need me.. To do the heavy lifting, after all." Niculaie turned and swung, meaning to punch it as hard as he could but then there was nothing.. he was sobbing alone in the darkness again, but then he remembered he was the dead one. Niculaie still felt the tremor of that fear though. The russian just drifted back into the darkness as he felt it rise up and swallow him again, pulling him toward something, but what...?

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Cevari was watching his lover intently, thoughtfully. He'd never seen him like this. He knew Gilriael likely had mixed feelings regarding his brother's intervention. He was ever loyal to his brother's judgement, of course. There was no one he trusted more in the entire world.

His brows furrowed slightly, then Gil glanced at him, only to glance away again. Alright, what on earth was this? That frown only deepened at the mention of how Nic had been returned, and in what state. He glanced sidelong at Gil's comment regarding killing Sammael. "Sand fleas. Inside bird guts?" He repeated, blinking. "You've a rather vivid way with words." His lips quirked. There was that smile creeping through. This was a serious situation, but Gil had a way of being rather morbidly poetic, didn't he?

Another blink, when he found himself recieving whispered advice from his older brother. His words were a bit of a riddlem but Cevari nodded and gave his brother's upper arm a fond squeeze of thanks. And then he was trotting off after Gil, to loop a playful arm around his waist and drag him close. "Right, you. Where are we headed? To traverse the gorge in search of treasure?" He inquired, as though they were heading on some grand adventure. #

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Perception was what it was. Did she know the entirety of what had happened, precisely what had been said, and by whom and when? No. She did not entirely care either. She knew enough to have formed her own opinions on what had happened, how, why, and all of that nonsense. Did she entirely blame Maelmorda? No. Ariela being an agent of Haman aside, her sister had been playing some very dangerous games that she was only privy to some small detail of. The risk had been extraordinarily high, but then so had the reward had she succeeded. She had not. It was her own damn fault bottom line. Who benefited? Based on what she d put together Haman benefited directly and indirectly weather or not her sister had succeeded in her goals known and not. She had surmised many things, Vespera had, and even suspected then more than ever that Ariela was never meant to 'succeed' at all but rather the greater effect, in Haman s interest, lay in what might be born of her death or fueled by the same. So why had she implied what she had to Marsol? Because she could. Because that was her given task. She did not know it was a lie, nor did she know it was not, and at that point did not care either. Her objective for that moment in time, prior to Wyrvaust s command leading to her expulsion from the corridor and return to the outermost grounds her fathers lands had been completed. Watering the seed of something long planted and already sprouting that fed from both truth and lies, and served to have the same ends either which way it had been fed.

The objective of her message and presence? Met. Was Sammael capable of sending his daughter to an enemy's hands? Most hated or otherwise, if it served a purpose, a calculated risk vs. reward, then yes. It was all about the moment. In that moment Sammael, among other things, had taken no real effort to calculate what would be among the things to be cause for discomfort bordering on causing the ornery ill-tempered lizard to utterly lose his shit. In terms of an effective psychological operation, the news Marsol had just gotten after being made to understand the loss of Ariela and his unborn children would be further incensed by the sight of her mirror image bearing the physical and verbal message she d brought. It was like pouring piss drenched salt slurry into the disemboweled cavity of an enemy, putting the guts back in, and stirring it all up with a spiked stick. Why? It was all about the moment, and as horrible? It was likely that the worst was yet to come.

Why the underhanded fuck-fuck mind games there? In the moment that surely both Marsol and Sammael were recovering to some extent by the mutual loss albeit in different ways because physical wounds could heal. When Wyrvaust had arrived to further the gap between herself and Marsol, addressing her as the daughter of sin, and commanding her to leave his lands? She obliged. She did not speak another word. Though did smile that gorgeous smile and offering a slight nod of head to Wyrvaust, before turning her gaze upon Gilriael, with widening smile followed by a small purse of lips and a wink. She d begun to ride out a short distance, as the troops parted away from camp to allow her exit. She d received another shout at her, from Wyrvaust, a place of peace? She almost chuckled before she was seized by an invisible force, wards, and plopped on her father s lands if Marsol had not in that moment utterly lost his shit and decided otherwise. Of her visit to the Canyon either way? She d mostly been concerned with reading what had been projected by and from Marsol, while keeping her own walls up all the while, and those of any that allowed such to be snatched as if from the air, such as that from Gilriael.

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Gilriael's lips twitched with the beginning of a smile which then turned into a pillowy purse when Cevari poked fun at his grim rhapsody. At any other time he might have giggled and added some smart mouthed adjunction to his musings. Gilriael was just too worried about Marsol to give himself over to amusement.

He knew Marsol and there was no way he was going to forget about Sammael killing his offspring, no matter how they had been conceived. Sammael's 'message' could do nothing less than provoke Marsol, but what end did he expect? Marsol could take Sammael IF he was not weakened mind, body and soul. Something then occurred to him as he kicked at the sand as he ambled towards the narrow entry of the canyon, the two horses he and Marsol had climbed down off when Wyrvaust arrived plodding after him. The animals were well trained. His mind reached out to Marsol as he knelt by the clear creek and cupped the crisp spring water in his hands to drink deeply.

"My Lord Anwaar, something has occurred to me... the Desert Wind has weakened you and now he goads you. At your best you can defeat him, but he and his have made sure you are at your worst so there is only one thing to be done. Go where he cannot reach you and MAKE yourself whole and hale. Take a few tribesmen with you whom you trust most to help you in this endeavor, and when you are ready call Sammael out to END your feud once and for all in single combat, with oaths on both sides that there will BE no retaliation from the defeated side," he counseled his king because if they were determined to do battle it was GOING to happen and if it HAD to happen, Marsol needed to be at his BEST. "It's that or make peace with him, my Lord," he added the only real alternative. Gilriael hoped in his heart of hearts that if Marsol agreed with his proposal that he would be one of the tribesmen he chose to go with him.

When Cevari caught up to him so blithe and cheerful, Gilriael heaved a great sigh and wrapped an arm underneath the limb draping his shoulder, his pale fingers digging into his lean waist. "Perhaps a treasure hunt in the inner corridor would do us some good... but first I need a word with your brother," and with that said he divided from Cevari and strode to meet Wyrvaust who was heading their way.

"Lord Wyrvaust, I must speak to you of the wards... the danger to Lord Marsol has passed. It is time you selected him to travel freely. He is your king and dearest friend. It is time you trusted him, Lord."

Wyrvaust fixed an ever thinning gaze on the weyrdragon as he made his demands known then shook his head slowly. "The Raven is willing to accept any punishment his king and comrade sees fit when his quarantine is done, but it is not over just yet. The very smell and knowledge of the she devil drew his aim like a magnet. This other even holds an attraction to him because she is so identical to the other."

"But the one who actually dominated him is dead. Her influence is therefore DEAD." Gilriael argued.

Wyrvaust shook his head. "And yet he reacted strongly to the other. Until Marsol makes his own appeal to his Raven and convinces him, as a ward he shall remain." Wyrvaust was not prepared to bend just yet. Had Vespera not come he may have been and prematurely in his opinion.

Gilriael sighed, bowed his capitulation then rested his hand against the small of Cevari's back to withdraw as Wyrvaust phased into shadows. "Your brother is uncompromising," he mentioned. He paused by the creek again. His albino form and the desert of fire were not exactly compatible unless he tapped the red dragon in himself. Stress also made him thirsty. He stood and waited for Cevari to take his fill of the refreshing water then headed once again for the east gorge.

"There was once another part of the mine and city across from the areas your brother has already dug out. Who knows what treasures and old bones lay trapped in and under the canyon's eastern and southern walls. They must be great because Wyrvaust swears powerful spirits guard all the ruins across from his haven. He refuses to ever disturb them," he divulged as the canyon narrowed around them. He paused by a small vein of aluminum where rutile, corrundum and mica was evident. "A little digging here or in similar veins might reveal some sapphires... This canyon is rich with them. It's why it all got buried... because of the greed of men." Gilriael locked his eyes on Cevari. "If you ever find any gems here tell people you bought them at auction overseas." He would let Cevari examine the vein, even dig around in it if he could summon the tools before they moved on.

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Ves had a notion or two about what her sister had done to Marsol on a basic level. Well there was nothing basic about it, but what vexed even her in her own curiosity was what had been done to have amplified its grip and power. She d seen it, rather felt it, plainly enough to recognized that the ill-tempered lizard was yet in the grip of her sisters spell . Allbeit weakened, though as she was sure his compatriots might have hoped contrary, it had not died with her sister. She had a few educated guesses but the most plausible, no matter how preposterous, made sense in light of more recent revelations as to that. She stabled her steed and made her way inside the palace. It was time to report the event to her father, a bath to wash the stink of select wards and filthy barbarians from herself, and a stiff drink or several. Did she herself hold any true animosity towards Marsol, or really even any of the others? Not really . While some of them had amused her in a sense, she had more or less simply been carrying out her instructions and nothing more. She went off through the palace to her father s quarters, where in finding him she d report or in failing to physically locate him she d send her report securely all the same. Then it was off to a bath and drinks!

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Anna had just returned. Arilwen knew that meant that she had to give her time away from all of them. Time to speak with her father and get caught up on what was going on.... but how the Swan wanted to hug her and squeeze her and touch her lovely red hair and check her for scratches and kiss her cheeks and apologize for not being there to save her. Not that she could have...right? She was antsy in her seat but lifted her coffee mug to her lips to take long, warm swallows.

Nuni was rapt with attention still while she listened about Aegoth. He was a winter dragon, not made for what she was built for. The hot, crackling heat. The dry ground. Oh, but Memnoch could not fully break the little girl's heart, could he? NEVER! He suggested that maybe, just MAYBE, Aegoth could be there the night they hatched. That little girl lit up like someone had set the desert on fire and all of that light was pouring out of her. "Do you really think he could!" She was almost exploding with energy. A thought came over her and she frowned, looking quite pensive in that plain little face. "Will the dragons not survive here? They come from a line of ice. What if they cannot adapt? Will I have to move?" No suggestion was made about her letting them go. NO. She was asking about MOVING. Packing her little rucksack and trotting along after her line of ice dragons.

Arilwen was trying to comfort Wyrvaust about Marsol. "Just think of how he must be feeling. Could you imagine if all of the clan tried to tell YOU that you had been duped into what feelings you have for me? That it is all one big play? A show that you were unaware you were in? I can't imaging how I would feel. I would want to choke the life out of anyone who suggested it." The Swan jumped suddenly when Wyrvaust hit the table and sprang to his feet. Whatever was happening with these visitors was coming to a head. He dipped to kiss her, then was gone. She stood, considering going after him, but she stopped first when she saw Nuni staring at her. She smiled softly and rounded the table to squeeze her shoulder. She never wanted Nuni to be scared of her father. Would it come to that one day? Arilwen had seen him completely unravel mentally, and it wasn't an easy thing to process.

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The abyss demon wrapped in that tall, siena skinned, Neffari body was grateful for the perspective his wife saw much as he himself did and the sage smile which softened his lips betrayed the sentiment. "The beautious Swan's husband sees his Lord's situation exactly like that, but sadly the repercussions are the same. He is lost and we must help him find his way back." This said just before he kissed Arilwen and withdrew.

Wyrvaust had returned to the sapphire lair leaving his brother and Gilriael to explore the canyon and each other's hearts together. He walked into the dining room from the kitchen corridor without as Memnoch was telling Nuni about how winter dragons could survive the desert.

"You ask all the right questions, dear friend. As Aegoth resides in the bowls of my great palace in the Cold Mountains of Avenmarch, so shall your dragons when they rest. They shall tolerate the heat so long as they go home to den in the mountains of their ancestors at least once a week. Like their father they shall be born with the ability to phase at a moment's notice to and from their lair as they need and at your beck and call if they choose you, which my heart tells me they will. They have probably chosen you already."

Despite his present mood Wyrvaust smiled hearing the two and seeing the girl light up when the snow bird spoke to her as he did. There in his home among those he loved and trusted all was right with the world. It was in the world out there threats loomed and distrust and anxiety flourished.

Wyrvaust kissed his wife then took her by the hand and from the space she occupied led her out of the dining hall into the curving south corridor. As they walked at a pace Wyrvaust kept relaxed he addressed his darkstar wife in quiet serene tones. "The Raven has done things his beloved chieftain may feel the need to punish. He holds his esteemed lord hostage, has sent an emissary his lord may have wanted to keep from his lands, has acted independent of his Lord, because his king's will, mind, heart and body were compromised by that she-devil who proved herself an enemy of our king and his most loyal tribesmates. Whatever the Raven's logic for his defiance and overthrow of hierarchy, he must answer to his chief when called upon to do so. Your Raven shall answer to any punishment he sees fit without objection... or he hopes without objection... when that time comes." He gave her fair warning, his doubt towards the end based on an understanding that no one could swear to an outcome that had not happened yet. Where the corridor continued west and broke off also south, Wyrvaust went to the western staircase which led up to the fountain chamber and climbed the steps with her. Halfway up the stairs he paused and carried her against the smooth wall to press himself up against her and kiss her deeply, just because he loved her and loved kissing her. The passion his tongue and lips visited upon her was intense and when he broke the kiss he was suddenly very tense. Something obviously had compelled him to part his lips from her prematurely. A low growl issued in his lungs and he stepped back from her to raise his hands up, black ribbons of power forming around his hands and weaving around his fingers immediately, hence a great amount of violet energy crackled around his fingertips and flowed inward into the shadows just before he turned away from her facing west and shot his arms outward releasing all that energy into a vortex of shadows which the black ether formed as he did so, the violet energy simultaneously firing through the vortex like a deep purple lightning bolt. After a moment his arms suddenly flung to the side as if he was throwing something and there was a loud pop, like a transistor blowing from a lightning strike, then the vortex fizzled out. His eyes were ablaze, wild due to his extreme focus as they settled on Arilwen, then gradually softened on her. He knew from the 'what the hell' expression on her face that he owed her an explanation.

"Someone was trying to take halfscale's body... Someone of some impressive power. He thought it was Mekkor at first... The Raven will explain. Unson's body... the corpse of Nic which was here delivered this day, was being pulled towards something, but he felt it the Raven, and got ahead of it by hurling a quickened gate seizure tenticle through the power trying to seize Marsol's confounded dead comrade. It grabbed onto the being channeling the binding power attempting to pull Nic's body to its soul, which is how that power was able to bypass the wards. Binding magic is close to absolute. Indeed the Raven only interupted it by breaking the focus of the one using those powers by seizing him in a shadow gate. He is in the holding chamber beyond the fountain chamber the Raven was taking his wife to to make love to her..." He loved it there and wanted to fuck her in the fountain and then have her purify the water of their sex to practice the purification power he had recently showed her how to awaken in herself. "And about Unson... The Raven calls him that now because he has been unmade... is as he was before the Snake sired him... a halfscale or half feather if Swan rathers. And yet... something of the Serpent IS still in him. It sleeps because HE sleeps... The Raven is most curious what he has become and if he was unmade because he chose Marsol. Why else would the Snake of Acheron unmake him? Unson is dead because bandits killed him it was reported. As for what happened outside..." He heaved a deep breath. "The emissary the Raven sent away was an exact look alike of the whore which attacked Anna." Wyrvaust was calling her as he saw her, a daughter of Lilith was often referred to as a whore, as the very embodiment OF a whore in fact. "She brought a message that the whore which was either her twin sister, a projection or doppelganger of her was dead, and the children Marsol bore with her also dead. Heart stricken the chief of us is. How else can he be? The Raven only wishes his chieftain would call upon him and his wife to console or help him." He heaved a breath then took Arilwen's hand in his and continued climbing up the stairs.

Memnoch had his own ideas for Wyrvaust and Arilwen that day though. He wanted he, Anwaar and Nuni to spend some time with them and was heading their way with the girl and boy. Memnoch felt they should come up for some air from all the carnal tangles they had been enjoying so frequently. Jealous? Maybe, or maybe he thought Nuni and Anwaar could do with their attention. More likely it was a bit of both. Either way, they had seen which way they had gone and were traipsing along the same hallways. As they did Memnoch rested his hand atop of Nuni's head. "Gave any thought to making Anwaar a partner in your dragon riding exploits? Perhaps one of the dragonlings would choose him if you let him help." Why had he not mentioned the idea sooner? He had been waiting for Anwaar to show the right amount of interest and he had, wanting to help Nuni with the eggs, reading to her from the book Memnoch had entrusted to her, wanting to read it badly enough to BEG her to LET him read it. She had only done so when Memnoch had said it was fine. Anwaar was named after a dragon lord, his best friends were half dragon and would likely be able to shift into dragon forms like their father. Of COURSE he was interested in dragons, perhaps even obsessed by them. Question now was, had Memnoch and the children arrived at the stairs soon enough to see Wyrvaust harnessing and channeling all that power?

The father of Lucifer's wife meanwhile was sitting very unhappily in that holding cell. Agares was as golden as his daughter, and would have been as good as angels came IF he had not been so selfrighteous about his beliefs. Cirgoth and he were close acquaintences. Agares was one of the angels he had attempted to recruit for the Aegores Order. Had he succeeded? He may have, or Agares the Goldenwing whose wings were as golden as his hair might have decided to hold out for Haman to come crawling back to the Tsetar. If one knew Galaxy they could well see where she came by her looks by gazing on Agares.

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Arilwen went about slowly cleaning up dishes from breakfast while Wyrvaust dismissed himself outside to take care of matters. She wanted to follow, but she also knew that too many people rushing a situation could complicate things. She moved quietly back and forth between the kitchen, grinning to herself as she listened to Nuni ask questions. She had a ferocious want for her dragons and she respected that. The Swan worried about too many giant dragons trying to climb onto the foot of her daughter's bed at night, but she would deal with that if it came up.

She finished up the majority of the dishes and was half way through a mug of coffee when Wyrvaust returned. Her fingers curled into his and she rose, falling in step beside him as they walked through the corridors. Her stomach tightened in worry as he made her very aware that he had done something that Marisol may punish him for. "You say it was deserved. Would you mind telling me? " He would share as much as he saw fit and she wrapped her arms around one of his, pressing her cheek to his bare skin. "I will respect your decision and our Lord's, of course." It was spoken quietly. Of course she would, but it wouldn't be easy to watch.

Up the stairs they went, with the Swan being unsure of where they were headed until now. She found her back spun against the wall and she eagerly accepted her mate's kiss, fingertips sliding up his bare spine. He broke the enchantment as suddenly as he had delivered it, his body tense and his eyes dark. The Swan swallowed and did not move a muscle while she watched her Raven spout an impressive amount of dark power. Back flat against the wall, she held her breath until he lowered his hands to face her, growling as he explained. "Wait...Nic's body?" She looked stunned. Oh gods, what would Anna say? Her poor friend. The hits just kept coming. Her own feelings about Nic were mixed, but she wanted Anna to be safe and happy.

"Anwarr?" Nuni had Memnoch's hand on her head when she tried to look up at him. Anwarr just walked quietly beside her. He could tell that his little sister was going to be a capable caregiver and he offered all of his help very readily. Nuni looked suddenly embarrassed that she had not offered. "Of course he can help!" It was a firm answer and Anwarr bit the inside of his cheek to keep his face serious. "I appreciate that very much, Little Dragonguard."

He didn't have to fight laughter for long. They rounded a curve in the stairs and Anwarr felt the air crackle with the presence of dark powers. He stuck a hand out to stop Nuni, but she already had. She was shaking, looking like she was going to be sick. Her tiny hands clutched the side of her head as she spotted her Da, another he was doing. Whatever it was, it was wreaking havoc on her little body that had nothing but sheer goodness pulsating through it. Arilwen saw her and watched her suddenly turn and stumble as quickly as she could down the stairs, tears moving faster than she could wipe them. She was terrified... If her father's stance and demeanor, and the way that darkness made her feel so imbalanced.

Arilwen reached her before she could clear the stairs and she swept her up, wrapping her in a vice grip. Nuni broke down into sobs into her mother's neck and refused to lift her head. Arilwen just held her, rocking gently from foot to foot rubbing Nuni's back in slow circles.

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Wyrvaust often wished he could somehow show Arilwen just how much she and all the things she did, big and small, meant to him. It was beyond words, thought and any hope of expressing, though he tried every time he made love to her or made something for her with his own hands. He was working on a necklace for her, a natural star sapphire crystal the size of his middle finger in its hexagonal elongated shape. It was not perfect but perfectly coloured and beautifully formed. The rutile which shot through the sapphire in fine threads would create the star if it was cut and polished into a cabachon, but instead made it gleam like a tiger's eye if turned in the light. The magic and platinum wire wrapping he intended for it would be equally as spectacular as he believed the gem to be, but the finished necklace would hold nothing to how grateful he was to Arilwen for being his, and who she was. These thoughts went through his mind moments before he realized Nuni and Anwaar had begun to approach only for Nuni to flee in fear of what amounted to an unfortunately common sort of feat for the abyss demon. With a faint sigh he walked back down the stairs when his wife caught the child up in her arms as she fell. Was Arilwen aware that she had used a burst of haste to get there in time? Wyrvaust doubted it. He'd never seen her use haste until then. That or he had forgotten that she had.

Seeing Nuni's fear Wyrvaust approached her carefully and crouched down when he reached them to make himself less formidable. "The girl who is to be the mother of winter dragons is afraid of the Raven who loves her? Is the girl not his sweet but courageous daughter? It was only the shadows he made sing, and the energies flowing all around and beneath us in all things. Invokes these powers to protect us the Raven. Is this not a good thing?" He tried to explain to her much as he had Anwaar when he was young. "Little Dove's father is a priest of chaos of all things as the whole, and he truly believes that if the world did not wish him to be powerful, he would be an ordinary man. But even as as child he saw the world and all the universe in it and knew where his path lie, even when others tried to strip it away. The girl never need fear the Raven, or those forces he commands," he promised her, his hand caressing her arm as he did. He then kissed Arilwen sweetly and gradually unfolded his tall frame to stand then smiled down at the girls while HE clasped Anwaar's hand. "Come with us children to the fountain room and there let us spend some time together, then after their father has seen to a few tasks, we can all go to the hidden shrine and stay there a few days or until I am called." And his prisoner? Hiall, Gilriael and Cevari could see to him once his captor had questioned him. Yes, Wyrvaust would like to interrogate him more thoroughly but his family trumped the stranger who had tried to steal Nic's corpse from him. Wyrvaust wanted Arilwen with him when he met with the prisoner, would have wanted her with him outside when the envoy had come but had been strapped by time.

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Arilwen had not meant to hasten her stride, but the sound of her sobbing daughter activated her abilities. She was facing away from Wyrvaust when he approached so that Nuni could face her father. Sobs melted to sniffles and hiccups, wet lashes smeared on the back of a pencil-smudged hand, while Nuni listened to her father. The Swan smiled as she felt the tense little girl uncoiling her muscles. Wyrvaust's words were like water. Soothing and with direction.

Nuni lifted her head at last and wiped her dark brown eyes again before nodding to her father. It was a sudden way to be introduced to a priest of chaos, but she was courageous. Her Da had said so! "I want to see the fountain." The eager tone had returned. She had been so focused and worried about the dragons that it was taking a toll.

Arilwen kissed her cheek and put her down before grabbing her Nuni's'hand and Memnoch's in the other. "It's a fine idea, Raven of our hearts! Let's go forget the world around us for just a bit!"

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Nuni was holding onto Arilwen's hand when Wyrvaust turned and scooped her up, settling her on his broad shoulders. The sounds that started popping from his body were disturbing at first, as she had never heard anyone, and her immediate concern was that her father would be in pain. Her concern dissipated as she saw her father spouting WINGS. Those brown eyes grew huge as she watched and when he told her that she needed practice, Nuni nodded eagerly and held onto his forehead with her tiny hands. That first look when he took off was one of definite shock, but oh how that plain, pretty face lit up after a few seconds. She let out a shriek that hatched out of sheer thrill, and she even let go of her father's forehead to shove her hands straight out like she was flying. Nuni was having the time of her life....while Arilwen was having a stroke. She gripped Memnoch's arm for support as she watched her youngest child pitching forward and zipping around the fountain, and all her worried mom brain could see was the little girl flying into the statues.

Well of course that didn't happen and of course she was fine, scrambling on steady, skinny legs across her father's wing to one of the massive statues to straddle its back. Only then did Memnoch manage to pry Arilwen's hands from his arm, assuring her that Nuni was just fine. He was laughing, in his eyes, because he knew how many of those panic attacks that Arilwen would have once Nuni started riding her dragons. Such was the way of mothers. Memnoch joined Nuni on a corresponding statue and watched her stroking the dragon's smoothly, inspecting teeth and tongue, eyes and wings. "They are so lovely." She mused. Her dragons would be this big at a year? "How big will they get?" She whispered in awe. Those statues were enough to intimidate other kids, and Nuni was hugging the neck of one.

Arilwen met Wyrvaust's gaze as he came over to her. Oh my, was it hot in here? Because those wings were absolutely seizing her attention and she wanted to jump his bones. Damn hormones. He seemed to be thinking the same way, however, and he came over to wrap her up in his arms and went to work on her neck. The Swan gritted her teeth and closed her eyes, and as soon as that hand closed on her breast, Anwaar sighed and gave his father a playful shove. Poor Nuni had had enough sexual deviancy for today. He felt the need to protect her innocent little eyes.

Arilwen giggled and bit her lip, then cleared her throat and straightened. They needed to behave for a little bit. They could handle that, right? She gently kissed Wyrvaust and gave him a tiny wink that told him they would return to this later. "Keep those wings out." She whispered. She could feel him grin against her cheek as he kissed her. The Swan moved to the water side and knelt to scoop some up, drinking straight from her hand. She wished she could have a painting of what she was seeing now, with Nuni all aglow and Memnoch grinning at her on those statues, and Anwaar being his ever watchful self, standing at the side of the water with an amused look on his maturing face. She knew it was time to discuss the babies with them.

"We have news." They all looked at her and Arilwen rose from her knees. "Our family is going to be expanding again." Anwaar looked surprised and Nuni blinked at her. "I know."

The statement from her daughter made Arilwen glance at Wyrvaust, then back at her. "You do? Did Da tell you?" Nuni looked at her like she was nuts. "No. I just know you are. Two boys, a girl."

Well Arilwen didn't expect that. She and Wyrvaust hadn't really been focused on trying to figure out what they were having. Things were so chaotic that it was all pushed to the backburner. This relaxing day seemed like a good time to discuss it. "....Did you say-- How...how do you know?" Nuni was still distracted with climbing from one dragon to the next and she shrugged her skinny shoulders. "Just do. Didn't you?" Arilwen had not seen the day in the garden when Nuni was chasing Memnoch and had swallowed him in soil. She knew that there was a chance that the little girl could hear through silent speech, but they hadn't tested it. She just looked...shellshocked.

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