[The Forest of Dreams] The Bosom Of Our Mother

[Dego Mernoff]

The 5th of Imperos,
The Season of Autumn,
Era II of the Celestine Mandate,
Era XIV Post Fractum
Late Afternoon

Dego had left Acumin as the suns of the fall had rose over the horizon, heading westward he searched for his mothers home city of Ethgan’tor. It was a fabled beacon of light for their race, made of pure white marble glowing in the darkness of an ancient forest grown to protect the homeland of the pure hearted shadow elves. She had told him stories of its beauty and greatness and how the very land itself protected his heritage from evil for all time.

The summer heat was still in full swing, and Dego wished he would have brought his horse this time around, though once he made it to the forest of light the half esh’ was sure it wouldn’t make a difference anyway. Lauryl wasn’t much different then Centripax, the majority of it was covered in lush green grasslands dotted with thick forests. He knew the route he had to take and it seemed relatively easy.

From Acumin he had headed due west into the setting suns to the south of Fort Pellwyn. That part had gone smooth camping with travelers and soldiers and then breaking from the main trade routes the following morning. Continuing west he had been walking across open field for the entire brightening and planned to camp on the edge of what was marked on many maps as the forest of dreams tonight. He didn’t know what it was, but every forest had something to eat on some level and that was enough for him. He had enough rations to keep him full but any opportunity to gain supply was an opportunity worth taking.

Humming an old lullaby his mother had sung to him as a child, Dego thought about the rest of the trip. From the forest he would cross the great stone bridge with no road. It was north of Zinn’Sunn and seemingly the only way across the river. Once across he planned to stop at the jade mines. Hopefully he could catch a few days work with the miners and pick up a few nice stones that he could trade for more supplies in the city to the south. Also though, he wanted to find something to give to Viskyia. Her life was gems and jewelry and to be able to hand her pure jade and marble from this journey would surely put a smile on her face. They had once talked about the ancient city of their ancestry and she had told him that she wanted to visit it one day.

From there he would collect a bit of information and head to whatever city seemed best to reach Ethgan’tor from. They lined the edge of the forest of light like a picket fence guarding the secret held within. His mother had talked about numerous paths into the dense forest so it was only likely that the humans had built something near the start of these paths to keep a watchful eye.

For now though, the soft dry breeze of autumn caressed his skin under a blue sky full of puffy clouds. It was a marvelous day for a walk and while the man knew he had to keep his eyes and ears alert for anything out of the ordinary or that could pose a threat there was no reason for him not to enjoy a gift from the gods in something as lovely as this.

[Gossamer]

Lauryl held many mysteries. Towards the north it was definitely haunted and filled with magic abound. Towards the western edge just before the forest, it was rife with posh nobility and elegant wide-open roads. To the south, there were swamps, strewn with black water and creatures no one knew much about. Ethgan'tor and the Forest of Light dominated its western boundaries. But in the center, Zinn'Sunn and her surrounding regions could be found. The Kemite city was rife with legend, and though Dego wouldn't be entering its gates, the mythos expanded well into the countryside.

The Forest of Dreams for instance. He'd not have heard the rumors of the strange creatures living there, nor of the epic battles that took place on a daily basis. There'd be no one to tell him that mysterious geysers filled the region, producing low-lying smoke that caused waking dreams that were absolutely beyond reality. The unwary stayed there... those that knew better ventured in and out of the forest, mindful of its breath, mindful of its denizens, and watchful for danger.

If Dego planned to camp there, even on the edge, he was in store for something decidedly unique. The day was warm, as all autumn days were. There was a trace of rain in the morning that opened up to new skies of bright blue at noon. As he traveled across the plain, he could see the forest loom upwards, its towering majestic trees giants among giants. It was the sweet water beneath, the same tonic that fueled its geysers, that gave them their enormous size.

But... as he drew nearer, passing through the first boarders of the forest into the sacred cathedral-like passages below... he heard a scream... an inhuman scream of pain, rage, and fear. Tendrils of smoke drifted low to the ground... he wouldn't know, but they were too low... at ankle level, to induce the waking dreams because he wasn't breathing them. And.. as he drew even nearer... he could hear the hissing and snapping. There was a struggle of some sort... and it wasn't too far off in the distance.

[Dego Mernoff]

Ignorantly walking unfamiliar lands was beginning to suit the Dego. The furthest he had ever traveled into Lauryl was the small village of High Peak for a very brief stint so this experience was completely new. While the majority of his trip thus far had went without hook or hinge it was only a matter of time until he was going to run into trouble. This was an inevitable fact that the young half elf had accepted even before starting this journey and when one planed to rest at places named the forest of dreams or the like it was like opening the gates to misfortune.

Cresting a hill that resembled almost every other hill in the grasslands the young man hadn’t expected to see any new sights just yet. However, much to his very deep surprise, at that moment when stepping up to the peak of said hill, the skyline was suddenly lined by the caps of massive ancient trees towering over a valley of mist and smoke. Dego instantly knew where he was even having never visited the location before. It was a forest, it looked intimidating, and there was an eerie fog, this was undoubtedly the Forest of Dreams.

Drawing closer to the forest revealed how large the trees truly were. It had taken him many candlemarks to carry himself to a small grassy ridge overlooking the edge of the forest. Here rested the esh staring down into the timberline his feet relaxing under the bright autumn sun as he took hearty bites from one of his rationed apples. It had a sweet sour flavor that both excited his palette and made his lips pucker under the onslaught of flavor. Quite a delicious snack to help one regain energy, and once completed he pushed away a bit of dirt to bury the core. Who knew, perhaps in a hundred eras he would return to this very spot and pluck a grand apple from a new ancient tree lining the ridge?

Rising back to his feet and securing all of his gear, with a soft breeze at his back Dego made his way down to the edge of the trees. Once he came upon the forest its grander truly struck him. These were some of the most massive things he had ever seen, even growing up in the old forests of the north and traveling to the far east, nothing was comparable to what was surrounding him now. The further in he ventured the more odd the way became. It was almost as if the interwoven branches formed a ceiling overhead, something he had seen in Acumin under the goddesses blessing, however it seemed less planned here. Beside that, the fog that drifted underfoot seemed to mask the paths, it was slightly disheartening and made him want to look for a safer trail, but just as the thought crossed his mind a blood curdling cry erupted from the trees and hissing snaps retorted.

The young half elves heart sunk to the pit of his gut at this thought. What should he do, it could be a set of beasts fighting, it could be a warrior fighting a creature of the land, or it could be someone in trouble. Could he really walk up to the land of his forefathers knowing he had not done the honorable thing and assisted someone that may have needed help. Cringing at the thought Dego used his left hand to crack his rapier from its sheath for a faster, seamless draw while his right fished out his composite war bow and brought it to his left.

Watching his every step and testing the ground before progressing Dego headed for the battle taking place in the trees before him. He pulled an arrow from his quiver and prepared it for a draw as he carefully progressed trying to make as little sound as possible. Gods knew what was ahead, but even if it meant his life the young half blood was not about to disgrace his mother when he was on a venture to find out who she really was.

[Gossamer]

The Gods were fickle creatures. Who knew how they choose what would live and what would become dinner to those more powerful or more determined? Sa'saln was no different, though the wilds be Her domain, she always turned her eyes away from the struggle, allowing the strongest to live, and the weaker to feed the others without intervention. It was perhaps her design, though if it was fair or not, one couldn't truly be sure.

For as Dego armed himself and drew closer, the scene before him unfolded. Beneath the massive trees a battle was unfolding. At first... his eyes deceived him and he thought perhaps what he saw wasn't real. They looked like small dragons, though instead of wings they had flaps of skin beneath their arms and between their legs. And they swarmed a creature in the middle of a clearing that was indeed fighting for its life. The dragons caught his eye first, for they were indeed hard to look at. Every time one froze, its color changed, blending into the surroundings and rendering it all but invisible. He named them dragons, because thats what they looked like, even though they were no bigger than the size of large dogs. And atheltic... they were perhaps some of the most athletic creatures he'd yet seen... one, even as he watched, climbed a tree gracefully, paused on a branch, then launched itself off, gliding through the air to attempt to fall upon the creature that seemed to be the center of the 'dragon' packs attack.

Hooves met scales, and the 'dragon' creature was flung back. It landed against a giant trunk with a thunk and crumpled there. It rose again though, slowly, shaking its head as if to clear the confusion. The creature the chameleon like 'dragons' attacked was unlike anything Dego had yet seen. At first he thought it was a black horse... young, but large enough to ride... nay.. .not a horse.. .a pegasus. But its wings weren't feathered. They were leathery, like a bats, and much like a bats they stretched from shoulders to tail. And even as he watched, it swung its tail up and around... a thick meaty thing well muscled and almost reptilian, and slammed a second 'dragon' knocking it free.

The battle continued, the creature bloody, the chameleon 'dragon' like creatures swarming. It didn't take Dego long to assess. There was a second horse-creature laying dead on the edge of the clearing... two of the scaled creatures feeding. Six more attacked the one still living... that was obviously smaller than the dead one... probably a second or third year offspring of the first who'd already passed beyond.

Eight on one... it was only a matter of time before the second younger creature fell. And it also didn't take Dego long to see why the creature was still there. One of its leathery wings, a brilliant azure blue underneath, was shredded painfully in the membrane ... making its flight useless.

It shrieked again, in pain and rage, and before Dego's eyes, grabbed one of the scaled creatures behind the neck, and bit deeply, breaking its atlas vertebrae, and tossed the limp very dead creature aside. Turning, its blue eyes caught sight of Dego, widened, and turned back to the fight, as if resigned to having yet one more enemy between it and its right to live.

[Dego Mernoff]

Weaving through the trees, the snaps and screams grew louder and louder until at last Dego stood on the outside of a clearing watching a battle take place between mystica nearly mythical creatures. The first that the young half elf observed were the multiple attackers. Watching carefully he counted out the predators in a near silent whisper. “…five …six moving, …two more stationary.” He counted eight in total, two already leaving their companions to feast on the first, larger, and much more dead of the two steeds.

His hazy blue eyes traced their movements as a whole, they were magnificent pack hunters. The majority keeping the target occupied while one made its move. Then as soon as the first made his attack the next one leapt in. They moved as a unit like they had been trained by the imperial legion and with such amazing grace Dego nearly forgot what he was doing, preparing for a fight.

After gently jamming the point of his first arrow into soft ground at his feet, dego kneeled slightly, spreading his weight and balancing on the balls of his feet. Knowing he would only have time for a second shot at most, the half elf didn’t bother setting up a station of arrows outside of the one. Setting a second projectile across the bow and stringing it into place he waited for a proper moment.

The creature the pack of gliding chameleons fought was just as magnificent as the group attacking it. Its hair was jet black, resembling a moonless night, or a lurking shadow. It had a demonic presence; long leathery black wings and a coiling, whipping serpent tail that it used like a fifth arm, lashing out at its attackers in near feeble defense. Then the odds fell more into favor as the fledgling horse jumped onto one of its assailants and snapped its neck like a twig without hesitation.

The magnificent survivor spun back around and their eyes connected for a brief moment. Beautiful azure eyes locked with the esh’s own, fighting for survival, desperate for recognition with a body laced with bloody scars to prove it. It watched its family die, and now was doing all it could just to live. This creature, on the surface a picture of evil much like the Esh’lahier was sorely misunderstood, and understated. Dego suddenly recognized himself fighting for his life.

Pulling up the bow and tilting it over slightly his eyes stared down the shaft of his arrow. The time was now, he had to show the creature it wasn’t alone and that if it just held on it could survive this onslaught. Dego watched as one prepared to leap and aimed at the next one opposite of it. As soon as he had a clear shot, the elves fingers slipped away from the sting and shot the bolt forward. This arrow could pierce solid plate at one hundred yards, if it hit the lightweight and agile creature it should tear a hole clean through the dragon.

[Gossamer]

Although the light caught the glimmer of scales, reflecting a metallic moss green back at Dego, the arrow flew true down his line of sight. Spinning slightly, with just the right pitch and velocity, the half-esh sent it true and it pierced the target slightly behind the front legs and deep into the chest barrel, scales proving no defense against the unseen feathered arrow. It died as its heart was pierced, crumpling even as it screamed its surprise and pain.

It was a neat trick, and the field leveled yet again... six on two even if the young winged Raslin had no idea Dego was on his side. However, the predators didn't crawl up the food chain on the Forest of Dream's pyramid by athleticism alone. They were smart... very smart.... and turning, one saw its comrade fall, and it barked sharply... an eerie preternatural sound, and the others involved in the fight and in consuming the other carcass all looked up at once, turned towards the barker, who in turn stared straight at Dego. A warning call... it sounded once more then turned launching itself straight at Dego. One 'dragon' followed, one of the big ones off the corpse of the first fallen Raslin.

Dego was an unknown, and the alpha and its favorite son were going to investigate and make sure he was an unknown that didn't prove deadly to yet another of them. In the span of three breaths, Dego would have company... two very large Talwaska's.... one coppery yellow, and the other a brilliant emerald green.

Meanwhile, the black and azure creature fought on... its movements slowly growing weaker as it bled out. It was an age old tactic... slice the enemy to pieces, let them bleed out and fall to their own weakness. It had no way of knowing help had arrived, and indeed what that help was. People simply didn't head into the Forest of Dreams too often, so the herds of Raslin there had no idea what they truly were.

[Dego Mernoff]

The half elf had foreseen what happened after the shrieking scream of his dying target. That was why he had only placed one arrow in the dirt before him. As soon as the first bolt had been released his slender hand had already retrieved the second arrow. As the creature died and his brethren barked and changed their attention to him, Dego had already strung the arrow across his bow, and began pulling up. Finally as the apparent leader bolted forward, with one of the lesser beasts in tow the archer was already taking aim. All of these movements were simple, practiced, and relaxed. Three breaths, that was two more then needed for a shot.

The creatures were smart, and beautiful, extremely agile and athletic. However to charge headlong into an unknown enemy was an animalistic tactic. One to show dominance, or a lack of fear, that was what put cognitive thought above instinct, the ability to evaluate a situation and create a course of action. That is why when the snarling jaws of the Talwaska were sprinting toward the pale flesh of the half elf, he didn’t panic or flinch. His string drawn and his eyes focused down the point of the tick shaft he placed his projectile just below the creatures throat and above the belly. If his last shot had killed instantly then this shot should also, as it was at the same point only entering from a different direction.

Dego’s muscular arms held the bow steady and just as the creature in all of its sprinting glory made a gallop forward the string was released heading for a target suspended in air, approaching with all the force and speed needed to bury itself within its prey. That was the first breath, and the second already had a plan of action dedicated to it as well. As the bowstring still vibrated with force it was tossed aside with his left hand to a tree no less then a few feet away from its owner. The young mans right hand already reaching for the blade hanging at his left thigh.

This part had already been planned in advance as well. Before he had even seen his opponents the seal that held the blade tight in it’s sheath had been broke while the very hand that was now drawing the rapier had pulled his bow out. Now as his left tossed the bow aside and free of harms way, Dego’s sword hand pulled the polished blade upwards and free from its sheath in one quick and free movement. It was almost ironic that the half elf wore dragons all over his clothing and presented them on his weapons. Even this very sword had been hand engraved by him to carry a picture of a great dragon leaping down the blade.

Breathing out for the second time, Dego’s now free left hand reach to his back and found the Dwarven / Elven steel dagger the master smith Steakly Soulfire had crafted for him. His body rolled into a forward stance by dropping his left leg behind his right. His right arm bent at the elbow, parallel to his body’s width and held at a 45 degree angle to his side. The dagger held in his left was held in the blade down position, pointing inward at his own knee, while his legs rested in a half crouched stance. The entirety of this form was his favorite of all positions he knew for using his rapier. His body presented the least amount of target area to the enemy and they had to get past the long slender and quick blade of his sword before reaching flesh, while he could roll his body in 180 degrees and attack at very short range with the dagger held in his left. The half crouch stance gave him the ability to move, dive, jump, or roll around an enemy attack.

His final breath before the lizards were upon him was not let out in a controlled breath like the prior two. No this breath was released in the form of a warriors cry. Dego planned to use their own primal tactics against them now, he would show, that he too was not afraid, a predator of the same nature, and that he would kill them if they did not kill him first. “RAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!” he roared.

It didn’t matter if the first had fallen to his arrow and it was the second that attacked now, or if the first had survived the attack and still charged Dego’s initial attack would be the same for both. Whatever angle the creature came in at, dego would counter by rolling his body at the opposite angle at the last possible moment safe for him. At that time he would snap his wrist either around and up, or down on the beasts neck dependent on what direction he moved. It was a simple tactic used for charging foes; the sharp sword would be brought down/up in a kill sweep at the enemy’s neck to sever at least part of the head from the body, the most effective way to kill something.

[Gossamer]

The two Talwaska's charged forward. His bow, used well, launched its arrow and found its mark in an emerald eye and the creature owning it face planted into the duff of the forest floor, skidding to a halt. The second, far larger of the two, charged onward. Its coppery yellow color was beautiful and deadly as it came at him... all teeth and claws as it roared. He could see the flash of webbing, connecting its front and back legs, acting as a means to glide out of the trees. It was brightly patterned with blues and greens... all this he noted casually as the creature bore down on him. It wasn't fast... that much was sure. And its movements consisted of leaps, a brief glide, and another leap... meaning it moved awkwardly upon solid ground. Aboreal then... definitely. They were out of their element on the ground, only dropping from the trees to feed on their victums.

His knife found its mark, shooting up through the creatures soft underjaw pallet even as it bowled him over and they both grappled. He felt warm scales, not cool like he'd expected. It was leathery under his hands, and its teeth flashed liike pure sin dragging a hole in his shoulder, clean through his clothing as it tried to bite, briefly caught hold, and released.

It died too quickly for anything more as Dego's blade found its way home.

But by that time, the young Raslin was dispatching yet another creature... making the body count around it significant. There was no more six on two, no. Three on two, and the two were both bigger and well armed... even if injured. As for Dego, his dagger was blood coated and slippery in his hand, and his bow was cast off to the side. The coppery creature was still twitching, but that didn't mean it was a threat... that they took a long time to die wasn't a big surprise. It just took some effort to dislodge the dagger from its dying brainpan, even though the knife had entered cleanly.

He had two choices. He could flee... while the Raslin was still fighting the three remaining creatures, or he could try and regather his effort, close distance, and attempt to help dispatch the rest. As he'd found out, they weren't really hard to kill... so long as there wasn't that many of them.

[Dego Mernoff]

Pack hunters, it was the same principal young gangs used in the cities, they were fierce in numbers but when it came down to the salt of things, they were little more then talk. The young half elf laid under the dead creature for a moment, its leathery skin taking a note in his mind for a later use. It had all happened so quickly that the elf hadn’t bothered screaming in pain, but was rather disappointed in the fact that he now had two ruined leather jackets and a soon to be crimson and white shirt on.

It was an impressive thought, teeth so sharp they had little trouble biting through his heavy riding jacket, and the vest beneath, then entering his flesh… Had he not placed his dagger in the things head at just that moment, he very well could have lost the arm. There was of coarse no reward without risk however, and the longer he laid beneath the beast the less chance he had to help the young horse.

Pushing his arm up between the lizard an himself Dego too a moment to let his fingertips inspect the wound, it wasn’t deep, and while it hurt, there didn’t seem to be any extensive damage besides a few new scars to show for his efforts. Placing his left forearm at the neck of the beast he pulled on his dagger with his right while pushing the corpse up and off him. When the blade came free, he took the time to rub it in the upturned dirt around him to clean the blood from his grip before placing it back in its sheath on the man’s waist. Rolling over her took his rapier back up in this right and insured at least some of his arrows were still in the quiver. Amazingly enough it seemed most of them were, an it took the man little time to move to his bow.

The half elf hadn’t thrown it far out of the way, he wanted to keep it close enough for this very reason, and thus far it seemed they lizards hadn’t noticed he’d just dispatched two of them. Slipping his rapier back into its home, making sure to leave it cracked for another draw if necessary the white elf half crouched and began to make his way a bit closer to the fray at hand, setting a new arrow as he did so. Using his stealth training he approached as silent as possible using the thick trees of the forest to hide his approach until he was near fifteen yards out, pulling the string taught as he rounded the next tree.

Drawing the bow up he pulled the projectile to three quarter strength. More then enough to drive through the lizard’s flesh at this range as well as keeping undue pressure off the wounded shoulder to aid in his aim. Dego took aim on the closest, clear shot he had, taking care to pick to insure the arrow didn’t hit the horse. Since there were three surrounding the steed one of them had to be a clear shot from his angle. Relaxing his body he waited until one of them paused again, just like before and let the arrow loose.

[Gossamer]

The Raslin fought on, blood streaming from its torn wings, as it cow kicked at one creature, ducked, and spun to land a hoof into the skull of a second. The cow kick missed the first, though the hoof to the brain killed the first. It screamed savagely, stomped the already dead corpse, and spun looking for another enemy. It spotted Dego, and narrowed its eyes uncertainly. The one its cow kick missed was lined up perfectly for Dego's shot, and the arrow sailed true. It lodged in a shoulder, not hitting a vulnerable enough spot to bring it down, but it did give it pause as the creature spun, snapping at the arrow with its teeth, trying to dislodge it.

Meanwhile the black bat-winged Raslin screamed and charged Dego. It came fast, moving as swiftly as a horse on the ground, its teeth bared and its eyes full of fury. It gave Dego no time to draw and notch another arrow as its body hurled forward, its momentum threatening to slam into the Esh's frail form. But at the last minute it swerved around him, and he heard a hiss of pain and the breaking of bones. If he whirled around, he'd be just in time to see the creature taking out the third beast, smashing its body beneath its hooves. Evidently it had circled around, and was stalking Dego from behind. That just left the one remaining 'dragon' which was injured, and the two extremely young ones that were still feeding on the corpse on the far side of the clearing.

The whole incident gave Dego time to notch another arrow and take aim once more at the remaining creature unless he was concerned the Raslin might attack him next. He was between two uncertainties.. the Talwaska had already proved itself dangerous... but the bat-winged horse was decidedly less of a threat than the dragon-like creature.

[Dego Mernoff]

Perhaps it was the weariness of travel and battle taking its toll on his mind, or it could have been the talwaska’s bite that had injected some psychotropic venom into his system. For all the half esh knew it could have been the dense fog that covered the ground and was now playing tricks on him like the kind at sea which distorted a sailor’s mind. Whatever the case may have been, before his very eyes, as the elf had rounded the edge of the tree two more of the lizards had appeared from nowhere. Mind you they small but still a second and third threat that hadn’t been there before now feasting on the corpse of the demon horse’s parent. He had remembered two on the corpse before, but had killed one in the charge they had made while the second had joined the fray with the younger to take up the alpha’s position.

The sudden surprise had caused him to jerk a bit sending his arrow off course and into the now final lizard’s shoulder, only further adding to the frustration of himself and the anger of his opponent. Then there was another question, there had been, just moments before, a second larger beast that was no longer there. Three large had turned into one dead, one angry and two small? Could it be possible that these creatures had some aetherial property that allowed a sudden split of their forms?

The question was short pondered however as Dego’s gaze once more locked with that of the Raslin. It’s azure eyes staring through the elf with a bloodlust for survival, its shrill screams still ringing in the man’s ears. Such a magnificently deadly beast, a conundrum to be pondered at a later time as to why the gods would twist the image of something into something so dark yet give it the light of purity. He wondered in that brief moment if the Raslin, much like his own breed had a darker, more sadistic cousin.

Lost in thought, a momentary lapse suddenly seemed to be a grave mistake as the Raslin charged at Dego. It’s hooves pounding and tearing at the ground moving at a full gallop, racing toward the man as if he had struck down the beast’s parent. It’s eyes seemed full of hatred as it charged, wild with the fury of battle. The half-breed’s slender hand had already been reaching for another arrow when the creature charged but it was obvious he wouldn’t have time as he could nearly taste the combination of saliva an blood that pushed through the teeth of his charging assailant. Time slowed to a crawl, the young man could feel his pulse pounding in his chest, the gates of the afterlife opening to him, gifting him with one last stint of energized clarity before he passed on to the afterlife.

His hand was too far from his blade, and there was no time to string the arrow the tips of his fingers now slid around. The slow steady thump of his heart seemed to resound throughout every limb in his body as a dry breath broke past the man’s lips, exhaled into this strange surrounding. Was this how the lord Ioannes intended to play out his life, being ran down by this creature? Or perhaps this was Carmelya’s vengeance for striking down her warriors trying to rid the forest of such a fowl looking thing. Dego’s legs could no longer handle the burden of his body under the crushing weight of imminent death, his knees failing him as his body began to drop as his hand pulled the arrow from its quiver, moving it to meet his bow.

Then something changed, the raslin veered it’s course and moved just outside of the man, tiny droplets of the beasts blood flying around his head at the same moment his knees struck the soft earth and the soft tap of wood on wood came from his bow as the dense arrow feel into place across his ranged weapon. The young mans head spun about as his finger tips began to slip the arrow across the string, his eyes watching as the horse had not been charging to strike down the elf but rather be his savior much as Dego had come to his aid. No, this beast was not evil, it was sentient on some level and understood the idea behind friend and foe, they were no longer warriors fighting for their lives, no, now they were a pair, fighting for victory against an over confident enemy.

The man’s fingertips caught the bow string as he pulled the arrow back, the pain pushed out of his mind by the adrenaline pumping through his system. He pulled the arrow back to a full draw, perhaps overkill for this short range of ten or so yards, but it would insure two simple facts. The beast would not even have the blink of one eye to dodge the attack, and he would not be leaving whole. The bow came up, quivering ever so lightly from the shake of the wounded shoulder as the dim eyes of the elf stared down the shaft at his last major opponent. Taking aim just below the body, dego compensated for the upward trust of such a powerful shot. The arrow, with luck through preparation, would hit in the gut where hopefully enough vital organs resided to put the creature down. “Gods, spirits, if this is your will guide my strike true…” His fingers slipped from the string giving way to the low bass tone of the composite war bow.

[Gossamer]

The last one died almost uneventful. There was a power in prayers, and indeed in this region sometimes faith had more to do with success than skill. A man and a young Raslin should have never been able to defeat an entire pack of hungry talwaskas. They were one of the reasons the Forest of Dreams oftentimes seemed so unforgiving and fierce. Not only were the creatures devious predators, but when they did gather in packs, which wasn't always the case, they became something of a killing force. Whole herds of Raslin who were ground bound due to foaling or injury could become subject to their attacks. The young stallion with the shredded wings came very close to it, but oddly enough its spirit reflected the warrior on the ground. Together, thought the all