Astalder stepped through the gates of Taras, after a long long arguement with one of the Gate Guards. The guard did not recognize the lone Elf for he had strayed from the lands of Imythess for quite awhile. A faint 5 o'clock shadow crept up Astalder's youthful cheeks. His hair was stained with dried mud, blood, and other grime. Slow were his footsteps as he entered the violated City of Taras.

Astalder remembered Taras to be a happy city. Much glee, hustle and bustle about. Adults running chores here and there, children playing 'Chase'. That city was but a memory to him now. The walls of taverns and houses were crippled with cracks, and some stained Tarisian blood. War struck Taras, yet nothing was burned. Astalder guessed the that the strong city had won, but at a horrid cost. Nothing was burned too badly. Occasionaly the Elf would walk by a pile of ashes that would have once been half of an inn. Faces were grim as he walked by and they would sneer and throw smalls stones out Astalder if they found them. Apparantly the people of Taras still recognized him.

Astalder was a City Guard for Taras awhile back. He protected Taras from bandits and werewolves. Some would say he was quite the hero. But the day he crossed the border out of Imythess, he had made an unpleasant mistake.

Astalder stretched his wings to full span and took off into the sky, trying to find a certain inn. He nose dove into a wide enough ally and wove around crumbling buildings. He slowed his skimming to a halt and landed gently on his feet. Astalder walked into a tavern where he knew to find a comfort. A man in a brown cloak sat in front of a glowering fire, and seemed to be oblivious to his surroundings. Astalder walked up to the man and gently tapped his shoulder.

"Hello there old fri - " His words were cut short as a dagger was pressed against his throat and the man spoke in a gruff voice. "I don't want any trouble! So leave before you do something you'll regret!" To Astalder's surprise, he could see no signs of recognition in the man's eyes.

"Noth... It's me... Astalder." He said in a voice that had just the slightest bit of panic in it. The man looked at him funny and squinted several times before finally lowering his knife. "As... Astalder?" Noth echoed, and without waiting for an answer, embraced the Elf tightly. He let go and looked up into Astalder's eyes. "My gosh, I thought you were long dead. Taras was under attack by a small army of Elite Orc Mages. And you... You never showed up fer the war. Astalder if you'd 'ave been 'ere... Taras might not be such a reck. I mean, sure all of this is replacable and shouldn't take more than a couple months to rebuild. Astalder where 'ave you been?..."

Astalder was saddened by the tragic news. Never had he thought Orcs would decide to attack Taras, althought it was one of the largest cities in Imythess. Orcs didn't usually stray to far from their homelands, especially mages... Astalder was ready to answer when he heard a loud crash outside the tavern. He looked back, then at Noth and said "Excuse me for a moment." And disappeared out the door.

A weary man was yelling into the sky drunken, slurred sentances that Astalder couldn't really understand. It seemed that he had taken a great hammer and smashed it against his house. Now the their was only half of a house. Astalder shook his head in shame. He needed to find some one sane, or not paranoid.

Meera's mouth was agape as she slowly walked through the destroyed city of Taras. Her hand absently trailed on the warworn buildings. Occaisionally, her hand brushed along a crack, but Meera gave no recognition that she had even reached a fissure in the building. Her mind was distraught at all of the violence and gore that she saw as she passed. When her hand passed over some blood that was still wet, she paused and slowly brought her hand close to her body and stared at it for a second tears brimming over her eyes. She had heard the widespread news of what had happened to Taras. She had known many a people who had either lived and/or worked in Taras. She had heard no word of what happened to them. She could only hope that they had either gotten away from the city or somehow been spared by the merciless orcs. Her eyes were held on a shining object covered in blood and grime. Walking over to it, she bent down to pick it up. She saw instantly that it was a scabbard. One that she knew all to well. As she crouched there holding the scabbard to her chest, she closed her eyes and wept openly. The only people who saw her were either deranged from the experience or to preoccupied to care. She knew the owner of this scabbard and all of the signs pointed to the fact that he was gone and there was no coming back once that happened. Some sense from the back of her mind told her that this was only the beginning of the sights that she would see as she got deeper into the city. Her heart might not be able to take it, but her brain told her that this was something she needed to do.....for at least the sake of her friends.

She stood up slowly, still holding the scabbard in an iron grip at her chest as she looked out with tear streaked eyes at the destroyed city that lay ahead of her. She walked like a zombie, only dimly aware of the steps that she was taking. When she got close to the center of the city, she couldn't take it any more, her heart overruled her brain in taking a rest to regain her composure. She leaned her back up against a wall and slowly slid down it putting her knees up to her chest. Greif was destroying, but she couldn't let the death of someone else overrule the life that she was living. It was what her mother had always told her, "you must be strong, not only for the sake of yourself, but to let the souls of others rest in peace that the death of themself is not ruining the lives of the living. That would be the last thing that someone you care about would want you to do." Remembering her mother's words brought some strength back to her, and she used it to continue on. Slowly again, she stood up let the hand holding the scabbard fall to her side. With grim determination and a tear streaked face, she set off towards the heart of the city. As she approached it, she heard a man's gruff voice and another one, considerably softer talking. She stopped for a second fearing that it was another one of the orc's still here but diminished her fears by telling herself orc's don't talk like that. When she saw the figure that rounded a corner from the building, the dam of tears that she had been holding back, she could hold back no longer. She rushed towards Astaldar with tears streaming down her face. When she reached him, she flung her arms around him and wept openly. She had feared in the most that he was dead. She didn't know how he had survived but that didn't matter in this moment.

[OOC: Meep, short post! :unsure: ]

The musty fog of debris was becoming much to upsetting for him. Slowly chanting acient words of the Storm Kindler, he called upon great dark clouds. Dark, angelic demons covered the sky and seemed to spit upon the city of Taras, instead of cry. The storm seemed to take the form of his feelings, though he meant to spit on the Orcen race, not Taras.

Astalder's long ears twitched at the sound of heavy, uneven footsteps. He was not frightened that their was a possibility it was an assasin or a drunken maniac. For he picked up the faint sound of weeping, and a small voice yelling Astalder!... He noticed this voice seemed to echo in his mind and realized his telepathic ways got the best of him. Just as he turned around he caught a beautiful winged Elf in his arms. The woman, wept openly and shamelessly on his shoulder. He held his old friend ever so gently, and secretly lifted a thumb to his face to wipe a tear from his eye. The rain seemed to lighten now, to a small drizzle that speckled his face.

Astalder sniffed loudly and immediatly cursed himself for showing such weakness. He didn't like having other people see him cry, it made him feel uncomfortable and he felt untrustworthy.

"It's ok, Meera... Everything will be alright..." Astalder whispered into her ear. Astalder never thought he actually meant this much to others, or that others actually thought he could stop Taras from destruction. He couldn't leave again now... Not ever...

((no problem :D ))

Meera cared not about the darkened clouds and rain that thumped down upon her body. Normally she would have been out enjoying the rain, but not even her favorite thing in the world could take her mind away from this death and destruction. When her weeping finally slowed a bit. She realized how good it felt to have a kind shoulder to cry on. She also realized that no matter how you sheilded yourself from the horrors of the world, nothing helped you get over it better than a loving and caring friend. Meera was, yes, a very talkative and curious person, but throughout the course of her life, she had lost a great amount of trust in people. She had only one truly close friend that she had known since childhood. Now she knew, that she had another. They both were like brothers to her. She felt she could share anything that was bothering her with either of them. There had been a long period of time where she hadn't seen either. Many problems troubled her mind, with no one to help her relieve them. It had been all Meera could do, just to go out around the town with a faked smile on. Now, everything seemed somewhat more relaxed. Nothing though, no matter how large, could push this massive impact on Meera's life to the back of her mind for a good long time. The loss of an old friend that Meera had just found out had hit her like a brick. This happy woman was not expecting that something could be more upsetting than the destruction of the town and the killing that had gone on. She had been wrong.

Slowly, when she heard a loud sniff, she lifted her head back and looked Astalder in the face. She brought a hand to his face and just held it there as a silent gesture that she was here for him. She hoped that she could be at least half a good friend to him as he was for her. The comforting words in her ear helped to calm her down a bit and allowed her to take view of the situation once again. She tried to keep her mind off of the sorrow in the past and push it towards the future. What was done is done and you can't go back. She had to think about her own future and what to do now. It was too hard for the moment, so instead, she just forgot about all of that. Her eyes scanned Astalder's face for a second and when she saw a tear, she softly brought her hand up and brushed it away. She quietly said then, "I didn't know what had happened to you", and paused for a second as she closed her eyes and regathered herself "I had almost given up on the fact that you were alive." She was already beating herself up for that fact and felt shamed that she had ever had doubt in her friend. She waited for his answer with her glassy eyes focused on his face.

Astalder felt a soft hand come up to brush a swollen tear off of his cheek. Astalder was hurt by the fact that Meera had nearly given up hope on him, but he supposed he might have done the same if Meera had disappeared as long as he did. The rain seemed to have mixed all the elements in his hair around into one grotesque color against his naturally blonde mane. Most of the dirt on his face was washed off by the rain. The drizzle had now turned into a cool mist and a small breeze picked up, pushing the mist south.

Astalder looked around the area, at the horribly violent scene. Bodies lay scattered about the cobble stone ground. It was easy to identify which were Tarasian guards and civilians, and which were the Orcs. Astalder thought for a moment, about what had happened and what could be done about this. He looked back at the gate to see the stubborn gate guard peacefully snoozing, then he looked back at the fallen heroes.

Without warning, Astalder vanished from sight, using both Haste and his natural Elven speed to find a desolate farm on the outskirts of Taras. He noticed that when he got to the more rural areas, it was a bit more destroyed. Most of the farms were burned, yet he found no animals or any kind of creatures. He figured they must have been taken and used as provisions for the Orcs.

Astalder came across a barn that didn't seem to have looked too burnt. He stepped inside the desolate building. Inside he found the body of a male farmer clutching a rusted pitchfork, each prong had semi dry blood on it. Not too far from the farmer he found an Orcen mage with three holes in its chest. Astalder noticed two sets of human foot prints that ran west, out of the back of the barn into the thick woods. One set seemed to be that of a child's, and the other of a matured woman. He figured the farmer had sacraficed his own life for the safety of his family. He hoped that the family made it safely out of the town. Astladerwalked over to the farmer and knelt before him for a moment of silence, aknowledging his bravery.

Astalder walked to the corner of the barn and picked up a shovel, whose blade was half buried in the dirt. He walked out into the grassy plains and began digging a six by four rectangle, about six feet deep. Astalder jumped up and flapped once and landed lightly on his feet. He walked into the barn and took up the farmer. He walked outside and placed the brave man into his grave, setting both his handson his chest.

Astalder began shoveling the dirt back into the hole, until it was filled. He found ome flowers and placed them atop the man's grave. He knelt down to him one more time, grabbed a second shovel and sprinted back to where he hoped Meera still was, it hadn't been more than five minutes since he left.

When Astalder suddenly dissapeared out of site, Meera was not confused nor did she worry where he had gone and when he would be back. Having known him for a long time, she was not surprised by his sudden haste. She knew that he needed to go somewhere so she let it be. Her hands, poised in the same spot that Astalder had been just a second ago, slowly dropped down to rest at her sides. She brought the bloodied scabbard back up to her chest again and wrapped her bright white wings around her body as if encasing herself in a blanket. It somewhat felt comforting to her. Using her tears and thumb, she slowly rubbed away all of the dried and smudged blood that she could. As she did this, many happy memories of him flooded back into her mind. She backed up until she hit a wall then slid down it until she was sitting on the ground. She then focused on all of the good memories she had of him. One of them seemed out of place to her though, she saw him calling to her frantically. She listened quickly as she heard him faintly say "go now! Meera, don't come any closer! Please go!" Meera didn't know why but she did not heed his warning and continued to "walk" closer to whatever it was that he didn't want her to go towards. Slowly in front of her, the darkness materialized into a devilish form that laughed evilly at her.

It was then that it appeared to Meera, whatever this thing was, it used the deep memories of dead loved one to take the souls of the living. Frantically, she tried to back away but she seemed not to have any control of her own body. Seeing her struggle, the thing laughed again and began to reach out towards her. Back in Taras, Meera's real body was unphased. She was still sitting up against the building, but if one looked closely, they could see in her eyes the frantic struggle that was going on within. By now Meera was almost past gone and she thought nothing could save her. Her mind was not conscious of anything that was happening outside her body. She could not tell if anyone was talking to her, she could not tell if people were looking at her, she was already partway gone and the demon almost had her.

Astalder sped past many familiar trees, and in a matter of seconds the trees began to morph into the reckage of buildings, houses, and inns. With two shovels in his hand he planned to bury all fallen soldiers and civilians that he could find in Taras. He could find nothing better to do, and no better way to help and honor those he could have saved.

Astalder waved his hand away from his body, and the menacing looking clouds were torn in half and a blood red sunset could be seen by the horizon. The earth seemed to be swalling the sun slowly, as if taking it's time to savor it, like Astalder was savoring the moment.

Astalder rounded the corner where he and Meera were standing at before. For some reason he couldn't find her though. He looked around the area, then his eyes fell on a figure sitting against the wall.

"Ah, there you are. I must do Taras a favor and bury these fallen heroes. If you could help me, I'd really... App.... Appreciate it.... Meera are you listening to me?" Meera hadn't moved an inch, nor did she seem in this world. She was in some kind of oblivion.

"Meera...? Meera are you asleep?" Astalder walked over to her and lifted her head so that their eyes met. Her eyes were open and filled with horror. She was struggling from the inside to get away from something that frightened her greatly. "Meera!!" Astalder yelled and tried shaking her a little first. She still gave no response. Astalder was beggining to panic. He could feel a pulse and her skin was still warm, so he knew she hadn't died yet. He let go of his friend and focused as much energy as he could into his hands. Soon static could be heard crackling off his skin and electric jolts jumped off his palm.

He reached over with his hands and grabbed Meera's arms, sending n electric shock through her body, hopefully waking her from her oblivion...

The devil creature laughed evilly again as he began to draw Meera in towards wherever he came from. Suddenly though his face did not seem so happy and all-knowing. It became frightened, in an odd, twisted sort of way. Meera did not know why yet, but she could feel that it was meant to help her. Now, the creature moved quickly and they neared the end of their journey, and Meera's life. Then, as if out of no where, her hair seemed to stand on end. Almost as an impulse, Meera reached her hand up to press her hair back down on top of her head. A few seconds after doing that, she realized that she had full control of her body once again. She looked back towards the creature and that same devilish grin was on his face again. He thought he had her. Meera knew that she didn't have much time. She decided that it was either, give all she had, or die. Using all of her remaining mental and physical strength, she pulled back away from the oblivion. It was then that more of the static electricity pulsed past her and towards the creature. The creature roared evilly as he saw it and realized that it wasn't worth his life to keep this victim. Then, to Meera it seemed as if the backround was pulled away like table cloth over a table. The horror faded away slowly and her vision cleared.

When she finally was able to see back in Taras, no matter how much blood and gore there was everywhere, it seemed so tranquil and calming. That was when she began to shake. Her body was finally catching up with the reality of the situation. It had been so frightening to her. Sure, Meera could take on any beast with the best of them, but that was something in which she had been completely helpless to overtake. She had almost given up on herself. Her once troubled green eyes were now clear. Yet in a way though, they were still trapped in that dimension. Finally she noticed Astalder. Then, everything seemed to click in place, the static electricity and the monster's troubled face. Still shaking, Meera gave Astalder a shaky grin to let him know that she was back. She was weak and tired from her experience but she knew that it would relieve a great deal of concern of his chest by her just letting him know that she was alive. Meera slowly tried to use a combination of her back against the wall and her legs to push herself to a standing position. She felt fine during that, but when she began to push herself off the wall, her trembling legs threatened to colapse. Comprimising she leaned against the wall so she would be able to stand. She sighed and looked at Astalder with a thankful smile on her face.

It took a few minutes before Meera awoke from the daze, but when she did she sort of spasmed upward. Astalder feared the worst until Meera opened her eyes. A wave of relief washed over him, but he he didn't show it in his face. He quirked and eyebrow at the young elf, for he had no idea why she was so calm after this experience, as if nothing ever happened.

Astalder got ready to ask her what had happened, but it was then that Meera tried to get up and failed. Astalder figured she had exhausted her self through the vision. He looked down at his shovels and dropped them on the cobble stone floor. The spade of the shovels made an annoying loud CLANG sound while the wooden shaft made a lesser thud sound. He would be digging quite a few holes for quite a few hours.

"You're exhausted. We need to get you back to an inn so you can rest..." and with that, Astalder swept up Meera, her back on one arm and the crook of here legs on the other. He walked slowly to the closest inn and up the stairs, there was no innkeeper in sight. Astalder laid Meera across a large bed and pulled a light sheet over her. He took up her hand and gave it a light peck, and started his way out. Before he left the room he turned his head and said "Are you going to be alright here by yourself?"

Meera thanked the gods that someone had arrived in time to help her from the nightmare. She slowly leaned her head back on the wall and tried to will herself to slow down her labored breathing. She didn't know why she was so tired. It felt as if she had done nothing this whole time. Eventually she decided that it must be the mental fatigue that was causing her phsically tiredness. As he said she needed rest, she began to protest, "No, I'm just..." but before she knew it, he had her in his arms and was already making his way towards an inn. She rolled her eyes, she should have known. Astalder would never listen to her about something like that. She sighed and just waited for them to get to the inn. As he laid her on the bed, she couldn't help but smile. It was comfortable and he was a good friend for having the best of intentions for her, but this was not what she wanted. She didn't want to seem weak and being inside was not what she wanted either. As he started to walk away she began to open her mouth for one last protest, but she saw him turn back around to talk so she quickly shut her mouth and listened. Finally, she smiled again and said "Astalder, I can come with you! Honestly, I can just relax on Enzo. I don't really want to be alone. Besides, it's not like I'm seriously injured!"

She tried desperately to persuade him to let her come with him. She hated being alone. Even though she sometimes needed time to be by herself, she almost always had at least one of her animal companions. As if, showing him how much she wanted to go with him, she said "Here." And with that, took her fingers to her mouth and whistled shortlyy, entwining the magic of find farmilliar so she would be able to see where Enzo was. Slowly, she heard a crash coming for downstairs. Up the stairs came Enzo. His great feiry head stuck into the room and whinnied to Meera. Meer smiled and motioned towards the area to the side of the bed, so she could get atop of Enzo. Immedietly knowing what Meera was trying to do, Enzo bowed down slightly. Meera entwined her hand in his flaming mane and pulled herself onto him. She once again was breathing labored, but had a smile on her face. She said "see?" And leaned forwards exhaustedly on Enzo's neck while patting him lovingly.

Astalder frowned. Meera was quite the stubborn one. Brave, but stubborn like he once was... Or perhaps still is. Astalder could never figure out if he was stubborn about not being stubborn. That was all much too confusing though. He looked at the flame engulfed steed. He wondered how Meera could possibly help him dig over 100 graves in her condition. Yet he also feared something like that nightmare thing she had might come back, and if he wasn't by her, she might not be as lucky as she was last time.

With a heavy sigh Astalder nodded. Perhaps she could tag along but it would be impossible for her to lift a shovel. "Alright then, it's settled. You may come but promise meyou will do nothing more than breathe and keep your eyes open, okay?" Astalder said with a smile and winked. "Here, take my hand." He raised his palm up a little to where Meera sat. He guided her out to the door making sure she didn't fall off from exhaustion.

Meera laughed happily as Astalder finally agreed that she could go. It didn't matter what he said, she was going to go anyways, but it was nice to know that he didn't mind her coming. She replied jokingly, "aww Astalder, you're no fun. Can I at least talk to you?" That was another thing that she would do wether he liked it or not. Talking was a huge part of her personality and the amount that she did talk, did not plan on lowering anytime soon. In some ways, she felt like she was a little sister to Astalder. They showed eachother new things, and there were little, if any, secrets between one another. Meera never had a sibling in her life, so she felt that having someone like Astalder was comforting. Her green and gold flecked eyes glistened with the tears that were still there from not too long ago, but they held back. A half smile adorned her face as she gratefully accepted Astalder's had for balance. She lightly tapped Enzo with the heel of her boots as they walked towards the door.

When they had gotten through the doorway, it seemed as if reality jolted back upon her. She remembered the immense sadness that she had felt while out in the town. She remembered all of the dead bodies and destruction that had met Taras. A little more disheartened, the smile slowly slid off of her face and she was once again solemn. Softly, she rested her head on Enzo's neck as they made their way towards wherever Astalder wanted to go. Curiously, Meera asked softly, "was there anyone you cared for in this town that...." She didn't dare utter the horrible word death. It sounded so dismal and final. It was not right to her and it was even more depressing to say it. Her gaze traveled slowly to him and she added "you don't have to answer if you don't want to." She knew that it was not always a subject that one enjoyed to talk about. Meera instead, offered him a way out if he felt that she questioned too far into his personal life. Meera knew that she sometimes asked questions like that, too personal, so she often left the person an exit when she could not see her borderlines.

Astalder chuckled "You are quite the little sis, aren't you." Astalder wasn't really thinking when he said this, but after he had, he realized the truth in his words. Meera was much like a little sister to him. Astalder had only one older brother that he never knew. When Astalder was but a child his brother, Grenn, was sent to aid in the war. Grenn, unlike Astalder, was a strongly built warrior. He carried a two-handed blade in one hand, and a family sword in the other. Astalder wish he could say Grenn fell heroicly, however he'd be lieing. Grenn was killed by a theif in his sleep. Astalder also wishes he could say he owned the two handed sword and the family sword his brother had, but the theif had taken them. Astalder would get embarrased when ever the subject of his brother came up in a conversation.

Astalder stepped out into the open and the reality of carnage hit him once more. He became less light hearted and a bit more serious. Wind blew from the east sending his hair west. He squinted his eyes so too much dirt didn't get in them. When he heard Meera speak he turned his head to her, then back over the crippled city of Taras. He sensed from her tone that if Astalder asked her the same question, the answer would be yes.

"I'm afraid I did. He isn't the same person now. He survived but the man he once was, was robbed from him. His name was Noth. He was a bar hopper. Alway smelled of hard whiskey, but never seemed drunk out of control. For me it was easy to be around him. For others.... Not so much. But now, I don't believe anyone would get near him. He is paranoid, and is suffering from short term memory, or so it seems. I also knew a woman by the name of Phoenix. She helped my defend Taras against Were-creatures. I'm not sure if she resided here in Taras or if she was a wanderer. I also recall meeting a Kore Takamaru... I haven't found any of their bodies here so I pray they are all right." Astalder zoned off into space for a moment before a crack of electricity from his sword hit his finger tips. He shook his head and turned to look at Meera.

"Listen... What I mean to do here is bury every Tarasian body. It is the least I can do. Do you think you can help in your condition?"

((OOC: Sorry, marching band is over. I should be a bit more active now.))

Meera face was warmed by the constantly caressing flames that surrounded Enzo's neck like a piece of armour. Her eyes were closed exhaustedly. She was not tired in the sleep deprived fact, only relating to her muscles. Though she appeared to be oblivious to the outside around her, she still was listening attentively to every word Astalder spoke. A frown settled on her face at the fact that he knew not of the outcome of people he knew. It was hopeful news though that he hadn't found their bodies though. She knew one of the people he had named as an acquaintance. Kore was a good friend of hers as well. Trying to give him a comforting smile, Meera said "I know of Kore as well. He is truly a wonderful man and I am happy to call him my friend. I desperately hope for the news that he is alive and well too." Nodding at his proposition and what he planned to do, she thought she could help. She hoped that she was at least strong enough to summon her two elementals to help out. One being she already decided to call on was her angelic being. Meera wasn't quite sure how the angel would react, but she hoped that it would assess the situation and be able to do what she asked of it.

She said to Astalder, "This situation grieves me. I cannot bear to look at the fallen on the enemies side. Would you mind if I burned their carcasses?" With her face twisted in a frown of disgust, she readied her finger to cast onto a couple figures that were laying on the ground to her side. She thought she might be able to correctly assume that no one found it wonderful to stare into the face of the enemy who killed someone you had a deep respect for every time you simply walked down the street. Remembering the family friend that she had recently found dead, her disgust for the aggressors grew. The people seemed unprepared and unable to set up a proper defense before being attacked. Not able to look at the features anymore, Meera turned her head to the other side and closed her eyes in sorrowful respect for the brave warrior who fought to protect the valiant town of Taras even though the situation might have seemed perilous.

Astalder smiled when he heard that Meera knew Kore. Kora had helped him fend of the the vampires and Count Damned here in Taras. He was a very powerful being despite is one missing limb. He hoped that he was in fine condition. If Kore had been here during the attack, Taras would be in a much better condition. He was sure of it.

When Meera mentioned buring the carcasses he frowned immediatly. "This place has suffered enough burnings. It would be a waste of wood to burn such dirt. We will leave them for the creatures of the night. They will find a better use for the orcs."

Astalders ears twitched as a gurgling cough reached his long ears. He turned his head and walked over to the nearly dead orc. Astlader picked him up by its throat and stared into the orcs blood shot eyes. "You're still live, foul one?" The orc laughed, spewing some black ichor on his wrist. Astalder looked at in disgust. The orc whispered something in his ear. Astalder looked at the orc furiously and threw him on the ground hard. In one swift movement he drew his blade and drove it into the orc's temple. Astalder stared down at the orc corpse with pure hatred.

Meera shrugged as he stated his view on her proposition. Even though she disagreed with him and would rather they burnt it, she respected his thought and would be able to bear the grotesque features for now. Her attention was recaptured again at the gurgling sound of the orc as it coughed. Immedietly disgusted Meera almost didn't want to look at him in fear that she would act rashly due to the horrible memories of her beloved family friends dead. Still, she knew that she had to, for she heard Astalder's voice aknowledging that the orc still lived. Entwining her hand in Enzo's mane as to assure that she would not get up out of her seat. Her battle vetren eyes were not tainted by the way Astalder acted. That was probably the same way she would have if she hadn't restrained herself and been in a weakened condition. She did though, wince as he slammed his sword so powerfully into the orc's temple. Obviously, when Astalder had lifted him up, the orc said something that he hadn't liked. Prodding Enzo forwards, Meera stopped beside Astalder.

She placed a calm and comforting hand on his shoulder. For now, she didn't ask what the orc had said because obviously, it caused him pain. Now wasn't the time nor place. If Astalder wanted her to know what was said, he would tell her whenever he felt the timing was right. Now, she eyed him with concern within her emerald eyes. Seeing the black stuff on his wrist, Meera lifted Astalder's arm up to her own and whiped off the disgusting liquid onto her clothes. Letting his arm slip back down to his side, she replaced her hand on his shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.

Astalder's eyes filled with fear, hatred, and disbelief. He was in his own world of thought now and was comopletely ignoring Meera. He had not even noticed her washing of his arm.Impossible. This cannot be happening. But is it worth the risk? If I do not act now, could I cost Taras its life? I...

Astalder straightened up and took command without even noticing it. While he was away he was commander of the Elven warriors at his homeland. He got so used to now that it seemed to be a part of him. Perhaps someday being a leader while cost him his friends. But he could not stand and watch Taras destroyed again.

"There is a second wave coming. I refuse stand and watch Taras turned to ash, and I know you feel the same. We are Taras' last chance. If we fall, so does Taras." Astalder snapped his fingers and a roar of thunder shook the earth a bit. He dashed forward keeping up with Enzo at an amazing pace. He especially kept an eye on Meera. He remembered what happened the last time one of his friends fell off their familiar. "The orc said they were coming from the south, but study of his mind actually told he was lieing. They will attack from the north. One last and final wave will attack Taras for the kill. We are strong, you and I, no matter what our conditions." Astalder closed his eyes and summoned the blackest of clouds. The earth around them grew drastically dark and it began to rain. Astalder knew Meera was a sort of Water Mage. He hoped that perhaps the feel of rain on her skin gave her a sort of homeland advantage and raised her spirits.

Astalder pulled back on Enzo's main as he slowed to a halt. They were at the top of a hill and as Astalder looked down he saw a neat square of soldiers clad in slightly green tinted armor. Their was at least 400 of the soldiers. The front line held tall pikes while the 2nd povided sheilds for the pike holders. Behind them were knights and mages. Behind the square was a line of archers. To the sides of the square were cavalry and commanders. Astalder quirked an eyebrow at the army below and looked up to Meera questioningly. He began oward the small army at a slow pace, down the hill.

Trusting Astalder's choices and trusting that his reasoning was grave, Meera let him do what he wished. Her muscles trembled as she held onto Enzo. She indeed felt weak, but if it what Astalder had heard hadn't any importance, he wouldn't have rushed her like this. Listening to his explanation, her eyes grew wide and her mouth hung agape. When he stopped talking, her attitude took on a whole new change. Her eyes became steely and her jaw snapped back up to a tough grimmace. This was her one chance to avenge the many innocent lives that had been taken by the horrible attackers. She would not just let this chance slip from her fingers. Immedietly a mental block was formed in her head. She could not let this weakness affect her. The pain was pushed to the back of her mind. It would have to remain unknown. Closing her eyes, Meera inhaled a deep breath of the air in Taras. Slowly, she began to feel the softness of rain seeping into her skin. It felt so regenerating and somehow soothing. Opening her eyes, she now felt in her element and knew that this battle was not going to go very well for the enemy. Lifting her arms to her hair, she slicked it back. Glancing out towards the vast ground of soldiers that were lined up in front of her ready to attack. No mercy would be given to them from her.

Knowing what was coming next, Meera did not feel that Enzo was the best choice of steed to ride into battle. He was not used to it, and often spooked when it was not convenient for Meera. Thinking for a second, Meera let out a shrill whistle. After a few seconds, the black form of a unicorn arrived. Ciaran had come to aid Meera in this battle. Reaching over, she grasped a handful of the inky black mane and pulled herself astride Ciaran instead. Turing back to Enzo, she motioned for him to go. She did not want to unneccisarily endanger one of her companions. Her eyes did not hold the same warm emotions that she had felt before, they now sheltered nothing but cold steel as they glared down the army about to advance upon Taras. Lifting up a hand beside her, she conjured her angelic being. The celestial appeared in a flash and was immedietly focused on the evil that awaited them. To her other side, Meera simply conjured her air and water elementals. They too stood solemny and apathetically. Seeing Astalder advance, Meera spurred Ciaran forwards and she immedietly knew that wether anyone liked it or not, the war was upon them.

((OOC: Shoot, forgot to mention something in my last post. Sorry *oopsy* ))

Winds picked up around them and the earth beneath them felt a little softer than usual. It began to rain a bit harder now but not so much as a down pour, yet. Astalder heard an ear peircing whistle that would have echoed around the basin below if the rain and thunder hadn't disrupted it. But Meera's steed still heard the call and Astalder smiled at the beast's loyalty to her. Meera on the other, didn't look too cheerful. Her face was grave and she was ready for an attack on the army below. But something didn't seem right. This army didn't look like or- But it was too late, Meera was already racing down to the bottom. Astalder fumbled into a run but not to fast for he needed to keep his balance on the soggy ground.

"Meera! Stop I don't think- " But his words were drowned but the thunder above. Astalder burst into speed and managed to get in front of Meera's new horse. He planted his feet and pushed back on the neck of the horse. After a few sword lengths of sliding the steed finally stopped and whinied frustrated. By now they were encircled by the army, pikes and burning hands pointed at them giving them limited breathing room. The soldiers were fully covered in the strange steel so Astalder really couldn't tell if they were orcs or not. A man came trotting into the circle on a white stallion. He removed his helmet and wiped a combination of sweat and rain off his forhead. He was indeed a human with short brown hair and peircing green eyes. He looked down on the two off them with disgust and confusion.

"A couple of spies, have we here? But why would two Elves be spying on an army trying to defend a city from orcs. Tell me, do you work for the oncoming army? Are you prisoners of war, forced to spy on us? Speak now or die unmercifully!" the captain interrogated. Astalder looked up at Meera biting his lip a little.

"I am Astalder, of Faitheniir. We come from the remains of Taras. I had no idea what happened until I arrived here from my homeland. A dieing orc tipped us off there was to be a second wave attacking Taras. I didn't think anyone else knew."

"Faitheniir huh? Never heard of the place." The man turned his armored stallion to face Meera. "And what about you? Who are and what's your business?" The circle around them lowered their pikes and stuck them in the ground in unison. The burning hands were lowerd as well, but the magical flames around them did not cease.

Meera became a bit confused when Astalder did not start down with her right away. All she cared about was Taras and the people who lost their family to the blood lusting orcs. Suddenly, Ciaran began to slide to a stop. He reared up on his hind legs and whinnied threateningly to Astalder who had stepped in front of him. Lowering his head, he warned Astalder with his horn. Whispering soothingly to Ciaran, Meera cooed, "shhh...it's fine...he's okay.." Slowly, Ciaran began to calm down and his whinnies turned to irritated snorts as he tossed his head. Her attention turned back to Astalder, Meera said "Astalder wha-" But behind him, she saw an army of not orcs, but regular people. Realizing her mistake, Meera winced and closed her eyes painfully. When she reopened them, they were surrounded by unforgiving soldiers and an angry officer. Sitting up straight, she stuck her chin out defiantly and listened as the officer spoke to them. Hearing how Astalder presented himself, and how the officer reacted, she knew that he still did not trust them. Resting a hand on Ciaran to assure him, Meera spoke, "I am Meera Skeirs, but a humble archer from my homeland. I have arrived here and witnessed Taras' destruction. I apologize for in my sorrow I mistook your gallant army for that of the enemies. You must excuse this man", motioning towards Astalder, "for he did not intend any harm to come to you."

"If you wish to capture me anyways, for fear that I am not telling the truth, so be it." Taking a shaky breath, Meera closed her eyes once more. She reopened them with her normal warmth enclosed. Looking towards Astalder nervously, she nodded towards him then returned her attention to the captain. Speaking to him again, she confessed "I have many weapons on me. You may wish to disarm me. If this is so, please allow me the dignity of handling my own weaponry." She was prepared to serve the army in any way she could, even if that meant deceiving it. Her hopes were that the officer would trust her story and allow her to help them fight, but that was not always the case so she was prepared. Ciaran did not know the word exchange that was going on between the officer and Meera, but he recognized the officer's untrusting hostility. He was used to battles and had been captured along with Meera a couple times. Preparing himself for a probable escape, for he didn't know tha this was a helping army, he lowered his head and spread his feet, steeling himself for a possible battle.