((OOC: This is an open roleplay, but please read this topic before joining.))

Gwaith's strides were undeniably the largest and the fasted strides he had ever made while enlisted to Oppel's service. Oppel sat upon his unicorn's back, whispering words of Sindarin into it's ear, seemingly causing it to move all the faster. The unicorn weaved through the trees of Norwood, and avoiding every facet of nature that could possibly slow his movement.

Several years ago Oppel had been summoned to this very area by the peoples of Norwood Village, the nearby town. It had become a legend of the people of Norwood, the night that the God of Nature and his allies slay the great demon Elhalla, after the demon had killed Malorn, the silver dragon protector of Norwood. Elhalla was one of Oppel's greatest difficulties to battle, despite the fact that Oppel was indeed an immortal at the time. Oppel was summoned to meet Elhalla once more now, four years later, and he could only imagine the trials that awaited him now that he was no longer one of the divine. Still, he motioned Gwaith to move faster. All those years ago Elhalla had escaped to Norwood by way of a conjured storm by a mage with a charcoal soul, who was long dead. Oppel could not imagine who would be evil enough to bring upon the resurrection of the demon Elhalla. Oppel's only hope was that whoever had brought Elhalla back to Norwood would not fight alongside him, for as far as Oppel could tell, he was alone. The night being as dark and fearsome as it currently was, Oppel knew that being alone was not to his benefit.

As Oppel and Gwaith travelled hastily through Norwood, Oppel caught up to a terrible blaze that threatened the woods. Like previously, the fires caused by Elhalla moved quickly and seemed more ferocious than any non-magical fire. Oppel looked on in an attempt to keep himself at ease.
Gwaith picked up even more speed as Oppel untied his staff from Gwaith's side and focused his mind at the troubles ahead.

The attack on Taras had not been any sort of fun for her. Now she had a bargain to keep. Stupid demon recognizing her from her short and hate filled stay in Alexander's lovely little palace and all it's stupid portals. He knew that Alex had been looking for her once more. AD couldn't risk him giving away where she was. This particular demon wanted something of his own though, so there was going to be a trade. His silence about where AD was in return for her making it possible for him to pay back a little city. She had agreed to bring him into Imythess just outside the city he wished to attack. The village of Norwood.

The night was dark and she had nestled herself in the fork of a tree while she slowly gathered the strength she would need to summon such a creature. Unlike her other summons, there was no limit on summoning a demon. It varied greatly from one demon to the other. The more powerful the demon, the longer it stayed. It was a will thing. Part of the agreement was that she would not try to control him, or he would tell Alex anyways.

So, she let herself relax and felt her unholy aura wrap around her as she started the spell. The world itself seemed as unhappy as she was about this particular little bargain as the demon Elhalla himself stepped forth into being. He looked around as soon as he stepped forth and looked rather happy with the result. If a snarl like grin that he had was actually any sign of that. A large clawed hand reached out towards AD and she glared at him. “Don't touch me.” She said in a soft tone. It wasn't an order, but he hesitated for a moment. “Are you happy now? Can I go?”

“No, you will stay until this is done. Only then will I keep my part of the deal.” AD nodded sharply in response. Stupid demon... she thought to herself as he turned away from her, the forest setting on fire around her as he moved towards the village. She felt her sanctuary spell replace her unholy aura as the flames flickered to life and seemed to be following Elhalla. For now, she was going to stay right here.

((OOC: *wants color for demon!!!* Ok, I backtracked a smidge... So he's here then... so Oppel can have him do what ever he wants him to. Feel free to go forward a bit if need be. AD is not controlling him, nor time! ^_^ ))

The nymphs forest was being threatend, not just Ashley's of the ash tree, but of all manar of three nymph. The fire licked the bark and choked the leaves. Evil was in the fire, and evil was coming. They needed to prepare, the nymphs that were of to delecate heart and spirit ran to the village for cover, only crying tears over their lost homes. Ashley however was of a tree that could stand tall and strong, of a tree that could fight. Not like te strongest, the apple tree nymph, but the second best of their kind.

Many has sucessfully made it, now only the ashtree and apple tree nymphs were left. Ashley tried to smother some little fires the main one had created, but soon it was too much and Ashley herself was sent running, the fire kept up with her. And like it had hands of its own the flames reached for her, tried to wind its way around her waist and arms, to try to trap her. Still she ran, a leaf or two on her clothes caught fire, singing her skin.

Almost as if the fire could whisper to her through the flames she heard words. 'you are not a part of this' But she was now. This flame dare hurt her home, her people. They had started something and they were unaware of exactly whome they were dealing with.

Ashley could see the village now, but something was wrong, horribly wrong. She was nearly there when the fire caught her and whipped her anke, she yellped out uncontrollably and tripped, she at first went flying but soon hit the ground and slid across the dirt. Her muscles tensed and they got hurt, she arched hre back in pain when her skidd slowed to a stop. Her emarlad green eyes were squeezed shut and her long deep brown hair fanned out on the grass under her.

Recovery had come quickly after the bleak veil of self-imposed exile had been lifted by her dear, old friend many months ago. At that time her body had been nearly as weak as her broken spirit, but she finally felt whole again despite much of her former power continuing to elude her. She sought it not and was at peace with herself, only working to repair herself emotionally. Here and there she would recall a particularly strong memory and it would bring back some little ability or another, but nothing pleased her more than revisiting the places she had once traveled, going there to to do what had always been in her nature: helping those in need. So it had come to pass that her journey brought her to Norwood Village, and it was there she stayed longer than any other. It was comforting to be immersed in her own culture once more, tucked into the safety of the trees and living hand-to-mouth on the fruit of the forest.

Fate, however, decided it must interrupt the serenity of her sojourn. She sat as a guest in the council of the elders, offering her wisdom in any way they required of her. In recent times the requests of her knowledge had become more urgent. Whispers came from the woods, bearing ill tidings of queer powers at work in the dark hours of the night, though not even the keenest of Elven eyes had spotted its source. The atmosphere had become tense as the news flowed to the council like river water to the sea, and tonight would prove to be its climax.

Lothlómendil lay upon her small talan, mind flowing with thoughts as she ebbed into a gentle sleep. In her daydream there were deer, ears twitching curiously as they nibbled upon the foliage. There too was a campfire, embers hot and glowing. It flickered and expanded, timber-fuel popping as flames greedily lapped it up to engorge themselves. The orange tongues of destruction spread, and soon her senses were filled with the sting of burning ash, and it woke her from her rest. She sat up in confusion, nostrils still filled with the scent of smoke. But this was no longer a dream, in the distance the orange glow betrayed itself. Scouts were puring into the village, reporting sightings of fell creatures among the fast-approaching inferno. The beast's description troubled her memory, and she felt the burden of omen within her chest. The council had ordered a sniper team take to the woods, to be followed by a fire brigade that would try to douse the flames, but she admonished their advice. "Nay," she spoke to the councilmen, "you must keep your soldiers with you for safety. Take up your things and flee, it is futile to waste yourselves against this evil. I will go into battle, and if fate is kind we will all return here whole." Readying her bow and the disused blade Graceless, she trekked into the distance to seek the source of this familiar destruction. Elhalla...

Nicodemus walked among the homes of the innocent, the unknowing, the clueless. To the daemon, they were but cattle, to be fed upon like livestock, simply there for his pleasure and empowerment. His tall, skinny form walked through the streets with an otherworldly grace, almost angelic in nature. How deceiving. Nick's noose hung about his neck, dagger sheathed in his very own flesh, a hilt protruding from the dark, swirling skin of his back.

Nicodemus felt something, a great demonic presence. It was powerful, filled with unholy might. Nick felt drawn to it like a beacon, an unfortunate side effect of his terrible nature.

Nicodemus, embodiment of fear and despair, was drawn to the charred woods, blackened by unholy fires, drawn as the daemon Elhalla produced fear, so he brought it to himself. Nicodemus seemed to glide smoothly over the roots and rocks, appearing to float, so slow were his movements, so quick his pace.

He arrived on the scene, fires spreading. He felt a wicked smile come to his lips as he felt the fear of the nymphs, of the woodland mammals. The fear filled him fully, empowering him with the greatest of emotion. Fear, which could drive one to action, or stop one's heart. It could bring you a chance to live, or end your life. Pure, untainted, paralyzing fear. Nicodemus grew more solid, feeling himself connect more to the plane as the emotion tied him.

Nicodemus looked to the sky and gave a great sigh, the breath seeming to be a wispy gray cloud. Nick's fiery golden eyes shone in their dark sockets, not of flesh but of power. They shone through the smoke, the flying ashes. Nick could feel small burning leaves falling on him, searing his flesh. He took pleasure in the pain.

The demon added his own fire to the forest, casting an inferno spell to catch a tree. The ash erupted into flames. He grinned, beginning an endless, haunting chant as a ball of fire glowed in his hand. With a flick of the wrist, it unraveled into a whip, made of the essence of fire itself.

Fire. Burning. Death. Decay. Even the distance he was from the fires could not stop the creeping smells slithering accross the sky to Sealamin and his escort of fellow Avarial elves, floating gently in a light breeze north of the village of Norwood, a breeze controlled by Claryus, Sealamin's Blade of Air. A token from a dwarven fortress nearby in the help of capturing a rampaging dragon. The roaring, several dwarf bodies flying through the air, a dull thud as Thranduil hit one of the cliffs near Sealamin, falling 25 feet to the ground. Dead. His dwarven friend's life gone, while Sealamin remained.

Sheathing his sword with, Sealamin waved his 4 winged escorts to follow him down to the village. A normal trade run to his fellow elves had lead the 5 of them to this monstrocity. A forest fire covered in the smell of burning flesh and burning wood. This was no ordinary, accidental fire Sealamin thought to himself darkly. The village would have been able to gain a control of a normal fire with ease. It was something they trained for to protet those forest. No. It was clear this fire was because something was amiss in the forests, and Sealamin would lead his men to help the village. He could not leave innocents to their fate when there was something Sealamin could do.

Hitting the ground softly, Sealamin drew his normal longsword into a defensive position while his fellows dropped around him in similiar positions, waiting for Sealamin to lead them along a well known forest path that would take them to the east side of the village. The smells were alot better on the ground since smoke rose, and Sealamin kept them low. No one else needed to know there were some flying elves in the vincinity.

Following the trail, Sealamin was surprised to see the village scurrying in activity, but not the usual activity in the case of a forest fire, but the running and carrying of people fleeing, gathering their treasured possessions quickly and running for their lives. Shock etched on his face, Sealamin lifted himself quickly into the air to escape the flow of people, his keen eye sight picking out some of the soldiers forming a picquet at the southern end of the village, the place where the fire, or danger behind the fire, was heading.

With a quick and powerful stroke of his wings, Sealamin landed amongst the soldiers, their glanced following a small elf into the forest by herself, entering the forest merely with a bow for defence. A nagging sensation told him he had to offer her some protection whether the soldiers of the village did or not. Turning to his escort that where hovering around with weapons drawn, Sealamin directed them to help the villagers. Satisfied they would not follow him, Sealamin swooped down to the path, his sword making a light cling sound as it was drawn, several soliders shouting at him to come back, but he ignored them all, and set off after the lonley elf lady with the long brown hair.