Kyrinn and Slyfoot: Ruins

[Slyfoot M'Zors]

The black steed’s nostrils flared painfully from exhaustion, trying to take the second Slyfoot had stopped to suck some air into its lungs. She had ridden all day and all night, relentlessly pushing the tiring beast to her destination.

“Orggok…..”<br>
Slyfoot peered over the ruined city, her red eyes softly gleaming in the night.

“I know your there Kyrinn. Tonight the last of the L’Cleare house shall fall as it should have so long ago. Tonight my love shall be avenged. Tonight shall be your last breath”, Slyfoot hissed with an uncanny anger that she had managed to suppress for so long.

But tonight she broke even her deepest dogma. The rage was swelling within her and her flesh tingled with anticipation. She felt along her arms and flexed her muscles feeling the flesh warmed daggers against her within their hidden confines. Sleeves, boots, arms, waist, all of them were there. The leather creaked as she tightened her grip on the reigns, her other hand closing tightly about her staff as she kicked at the steed’s ribs , lurching him into a gallop, her robe whipping in the air as she soared down towards the coachman like a wraith of death.


(Please refrain from adding to this post as Kyrinn and I already have it written out. Thank you.)

[Kyrinn the Black]

The Oggok coachman was fast asleep in his stool. Slyfoot made no attempt to inhibit the sounds of her approach but the Ogre did not stir. She was disgusted by the laziness but tended to her own horse nonetheless. The fewer people that seen her arrive the better. The city had always looked more like a ruin than a place where something lived and worked – and that observation was even more pronounced in the darkness of night. The moon showed through gaping holes in the stone roofs of the city. The debris from the collapsing buildings littered the ground everywhere she walked. The only sounds were from the jungle wildlife and the occasional yawn of a bouncer on patrol. She takes a quick look around to make sure nobody is around to see, then cast’s a spell of invisibility to hide her presence. She would be creeping around the lower corridors to find who she was looking for and didn’t need to be answering any questions to suspicious guards.

She crept ever downward into the ruined city. The lower catacombs were strangely quiet in the early hours past midnight. Most of the guard nooks were unmanned - only a few slumbering sentries remained on duty. Dertreg's smithy would be in the lowest level of the Ogre city so if she kept moving downward she would eventually find it. The current pathway emptied out into an enormous room, large enough to hold several normal sized buildings. Few torches burned in bowels of Oggok, nothing but darkness showed above her. The landing was halfway up the stone wall giving her a decent view over the crumbling rooftops of the smaller buildings. There was only one large light source, and it was close by. It must be the Smithy, she could feel her anger growing, the cause of all of her frustration was close by and she was going to make him pay.

Still cloaked in her spell of invisibility she quietly stalked down one of the ramps leading to the ground level. The building that was now Dertreg’s smithy was mostly collapsed consisting of only two ruined walls, and two crudely made hide tents. The dim light from the forge cast deep shadows that played lazily against the walls of the smithy. From her position she could now hear the ringing of a hammer on anvil. She was going to catch him working. Everything was going exactly the way she wanted. She moved from the ramps entry point and crept up to the closest tent. With her back to the hide wall she moved slowly around the edge of the tent, keeping as quiet as possible so as not to alert him to her presence.

Then she saw him. He was standing at one of the larger Anvils, banging away on what she guessed was going to be a broadsword. He looked very different now compared to when she had last seen him. In the past he had always seemed well kept but now he had let his blond hair grow long and wild. His bangs were tied back in a crude topknot. Most likely to keep the hair out of his eyes while he worked. He wore no shirt but a leather apron protected his chest, his back was uncovered. He was always well toned but the months of working at the forge had added an extra layer of muscle to his upper body. His ebony skin was lined with sweat from a combination of physical exertion and heat from the forge. His maroon leggings were torn and dirty but he still tucked them into the tops of his black leather field boots.

He was completely unaware of her presence but the ringing of the forge hammer and the shadow of his body dancing against the tent flaps seemed to be taunting her. She hated him so completely that her anger almost took over. She had slipped one of her throwing knives from its hiding place against her forearm and was preparing to throw it before she had even realized what she was doing.

[Kyrinn the Black]

Kyrinn was absorbed in his work again, lost in the ringing of his hammer as he shaped the glowing shaft of metal into a triangular blade. He had been working most of the night, much like he had done every night in the months since he had come to Oggok. Dertreg’s smithy wasn't exactly the Blue Flame Forge of Neriak but he had learned to call it home and now considered it his last safe haven. He was so caught up in his work he did not notice the form of Slyfoot materialize behind him as she prepaired to throw her knife into his back.

Using an overhand toss she sent the small throwing blade spinning through the air at Kyrinn's exposed back. It catches him in the right shoulder just as he was bringing his hammer down in another mighty blow. The knife sinks deep into his flesh causing his arm to lurch forward loosing his grip on the hammer. The smithing hammer goes clattering to he floor and slides out of reach. He bends over the anvil slightly, his mind sent racing by the surprise attack. He had grown too comfortable in his new home and he had let his guard down. He was furious at his mistake, and with that fury the pain from his wound was gone. He reached for his half-forged sword. The blade was still white hot from the forge but the hilt had not been heated and his insulated leather gloves provided enough protection for him to grip it without burning himself.

Kyrinn paused for just seconds but it was enough time for Slyfoot to whisper the words of another invisibility spell. Her image faded from existence just as Kyrinn was turning to face her direction. He held the glowing length of metal down in his right hand as he reached across his torso with his left, grasping for knife buried in his shoulder. He removed it without wincing and let it fall to the ground, the metal clanging on the stone floor. Slowly he raised his unfinished sword straight out to his right side, holding it horizontal to the floor. His eyes and ears searching the area where Slyfoot had been, waiting for a sign as to where his attacker was hiding. Slyfoot was already moving, taking careful steps as she circled around to his rear once again.

He remained in his stance, his body unmoving. Slyfoot knew she had the upper hand. She felt that she could kill him at any time, but killing him wasn't enough. She wanted to hurt him; she wanted him to be afraid before he died. She continued to circle until she was next to one of the ruined walls, then careful lifted herself up to stand on the thick stone ledge. She climbed a little higher; making sure her staff did not scrape against the wall and alert him to her location. She looked down on him from her vantage point on the walls edge, still unmoving, but still searching for her. She then spoke to him for the first time in over a year.


"It is your fault…" came a voice from above him.

[Kyrinn the Black]

It was a woman’s voice that spoke to Kyrinn. A voice not unfamiliar to him. He searched his memory trying to place a name or a face to her voice but came up empty. The assassin's identity did not matter. It would not change the outcome if he had been able to remember a name. The courts of Neriak should have known better than to send a lone assassin. He did not move to face in the direction of the voice. He knew this game she was playing. He need only be patient, she would reveal herself soon enough.

Slyfoot waited for a response. Kyrinn did not move from his position, but after a long moment he did speak.


"I don't know how much they're paying you, but you'll not survive to collect on my head"

His voice was calm and collected, he was in total control. This is what made Kyrinn such a deadly opponent. Most of Innoruuk's knights of rage are very quick to give in to anger. They let their hatred consume them and blindly throw themselves into battle. Kyrinn had forged his hatred with pure force of will. He was not controlled by his anger but instead controlled it, and used its raw power to his advantage without losing control.

Slyfoot leapt from her place on the wall landing behind him. Her soft boots cushioned the sound of her landing. She held her staff up and away from her body prepared to strike if he turned on her. If he was aware of her movements he did not show it.


"...You should have died with the rest of them."

This time her voice had come from behind him and was quite a bit closer. He slowly turned his smoldering blade and drew it closer to his body. His left hand now hovered near the bottom of the sword hilt, as if waiting for his moment to strike. Patiently he spoke again.

"The D'Deleths should have known better than to make a try for me here"

"The D'Deleths don't seek your blood; I do Kyrinn"

This time the voice was heard to Kyrinn's left. She was circling him, most likely trying to unnerve him. He knew she would make her move soon now. Motes of blue and violet light surround Kyrinn as he whispers the words of a simple enchantment. As the last word is spoken the light fades away, his unfinished blade was now ensorcelled to steal the life energy from his opponent.

"You're a fool for trying alone."

Slyfoot came around full circle. It seemed as though Kyrinn would not be easily shaken so she decided to try and get to him another way. Slyfoot raised her staff above her head - using it as a focus for a spell of arcane bindings. Kyrinn himself had given her the staff in Freeport many months ago. He said he had brought it back from the depths of castle Felstar on one of his many excursions. As she chanted her new spell her invisibility shimmered and faded, bringing her into full view and eye to eye with Kyrinn at last. She gestures at him with her staff with the final word of the spell. The magic grips at him around his waste and legs, rooting him in place, preventing him from moving.

"Call me what you wish. I will kill you or die trying Kyrinn! It was all your fault and that blasted house of yours!" she said with a snarl.

[Kyrinn the Black]

Kyrinn moved his legs a little, testing the strength of the bonds that held him. He guessed that he could free himself if he put some effort into it but decided he would stay put. He knew the spell would be broken when she moved against him regardless so there was no need. Weapon still at the ready Kyrinn grinned his response.

"Slyfoot M'Zors, so we meet again."

"Yes, you scum!"

As she speaks she frees another of her throwing knives from the sleeve of her robe and sends it spinning through the air at Kyrinn's sword arm. As soon as she releases the knife the bonds holding Kyrinn in place are lifted granting him free movement once again. With a practiced grace Kyrinn casually turns, shifting his stance and leaning to the left. The knife passes within an inch of his chest and passes on into the darkness. A clattering can be heard as it strikes an unseen wall in the distance.

Finally time to strike, Slyfoot starts to chant again, holding her staff in front of her. Kyrinn lurches forward closing the gap between them and interrupting her spell. He lashes out at her with the unsharpened red-hot blade only to have the blow turned aside by her staff. She continued the motion of the parry and wheeled about to face him again, staff held at the ready. Kyrinn spun the blade using the recoil of the deflected blow to add to his momentum in a series of one-handed strikes. Every blow showered the two combatants with stinging red-hot sparks. Despite the crudeness of his weapon Kyrinn was handling the incomplete blade as a master swordsman. He seemed to be taking his time between blows but it took every ounce of Slyfoots effort to parry the incoming attacks.


In-between swings Kyrinn speaks in a calm and even tone; "I had a feeling it would come to this girl.... Somehow, so long ago when we first met...I knew we would become enemies."

Slyfoot was concentrating hard on the fight but she was sorely outmatched and losing ground fast. Kyrinn's words made her surge with anger. She lashed out hard with her staff, forcing his weapon away and used the gap to make a desperate leap backward. She landed hard, crouching low to absorb the impact. She sneered at Kyrinn, panting hard from exhaustion. She was not used to this kind of prolonged physical fighting. The distance gave her the chance to speak.

"Feelings!? And what would you know of feelings!? What do you even care!?"

As her breath returned she began chanting the arcane rights to an attack spell. Kyrinn stayed where he was, he had relaxed his stance standing in more casual manner with his sword down at his side. He still seemed calm but his red eyes were burning with rage. She expected him to be shouting but he still spoke evenly and calmly.

"I wasn't implying that I cared dear Slyfoot. By feeling I only meant that my instincts told me that we were far too similar in some ways to ever stay comrades for very long. I never would have guessed that it would happen here..."

Kyrinn's sentence was cut short as Slyfoot released a bolt of pure arcane energy hitting him square in the chest. The blast staggers him back a couple of steps but he does not go down, he didn't even attempt to dodge. He calmly straightens his posture and continues his rhetoric, just as calmly as before.

"So tell me Slyfoot. Why are you really here? Is it house Thex? Are they hunting the remnants of the Twilight Empire?"

"No, it is the house of M'Zors hunting the remnants of the filth that was once the house L'Celare!"

Slyfoot begins to chant the words of another spell, swirling her staff about her head in short quick arcs. Her hands begin to glow with a bright blue light as she collects the latent arcane energies surrounding her. At the spell's completion she swings her staff wildly in Kyrinn's direction loosing another bolt of arcane energy. Again he makes no attempt to dodge, taking the full force of the impact to his stomach. The blow doubles him over but he manages to keep his footing. He pauses there, hunched over for a second, then slowly rights himself again. He begins speak again but his show of resolve is compromised by a thin line of crimson slowly working it's way down his chin as he speaks.

"I over estimated you then girl. I never would have guessed that you would again become a simple hound for house M'Zors."

"It was my born heritage." She spits in disgust. "At least I was not stupid enough to betray my own house for one that a half wit could see would crumble"

Slyfoot begins to slowly move to her rear increasing the distance between her and her enemy. As she moves she begins moving her arms in wide circles, gathering the energy to cast another spell. As the energy builds she becomes enveloped in a blue mist. Kyrinn begins to walk towards her. Chuckling at her efforts, still speaking in the same wretched voice.

"When they did crumble I earned my freedom. Now I serve no one but myself, but look at you. You're still serving those pathetic nobles. You're still being controlled by spineless worms."

"I serve no one. I have removed myself from Neriak." As she finishes speaking she brings her hands inward toward her chest, hand holding her staff on top. She holds them there as an orb of blue energy forms between her hands. Pushing her hands outward she sends the orb hurtling towards Kyrinn, this time catching him directly in the head. The strike sends him spinning back to his left and almost down to the floor. Just when it seemed as if he would surely fall this time he, catches himself with his empty hand, plants his feet squarely on the ground, and then lunges forward. He closes the gap with an unnatural speed, thrusting his glowing sword at Slyfoot's midsection.

[Kyrinn the Black]

Surprised by the suddenness of his attack Slyfoot barely manages to turn the blade away with her staff. She scrambles backward under the force of the attack but recovers quickly. Kyrinn was still moving with ease and grace but the last spell had bloodied his face badly. She grips her staff with both hands and whirls it over her head then down towards Kyrinn's temple. He raises his sword in a two-handed parry knocking the staff aside and scattering tiny shards of white hot metal around them. The blade hangs motionless in the air for a split second, then is brought crashing down in a strike to Slyfoots midsection. Still reeling from the onslaught she is barely able to bring the staff downward in time to push the blade away. As she does so, he let's the blade be redirected to his left, releasing his right hand from the sword hilt and stepping forward. He reaches out his right hand speaking the forbidden words of his Bloodwasp ability.

The two are bathed in a sickly orange glow overpowering the dim light from the forge. Kyrinn's parasitic power takes hold of her, tearing her life force from her body and bestowing her power on him. Slyfoot stumbles forward, his hand brushing her face as she does. The contact brings on a wave of nausea making her cringe. Slyfoot uses her staff to weekly bat his hand away, staggering backward to the rear wall of the smithy. She leans on the crumbling stone for support, her strength was failing. She raises her staff, placing it between herself and Kyrinn. His face is still smeared with blood but the wounds were now completely healed. All of the damage she had done with her magic was gone. He had been toying with her the whole time. Anger burned in Slyfoots heart.


"Your house mocked me! Laughed at me, and took the only thing I wanted from me!" She screams.

The outburst and the anger seemed to help Slyfoot gain a little of her strength back. There was nowhere left to retreat now. Kyrinn was walking towards her with that infernal grin on his face, the heated metal sword held casually in his left hand still as he approached. She made a lung for him, kicking off the wall to add to her momentum and thrusting her staff at his chest. Kyrinn nonchalantly moves to her left, out of the way of her incoming attack. He makes a well-placed kick to Slyfoots leg just below the knee making her stumble past him. The sudden shock of the blow loosens her grip on her staff and it goes tumbling to the floor. Slyfoot herself almost goes down but manages to catch her balance before falling. Breathing heavily she tries to gather the power for another spell. Her hands begin to glow blue as the arcane energy builds but the light sputters and goes out.

"Someone is taking advantage of you girl. Either that, or you're completely mad."

"...neither are true..."

In between gasps she spits in disgust. She was just too exhausted to use her magic. She needed to end this fast. Reaching into her sleeves she draws two more throwing knives. One she hurls at Kyrinn's face and the other she holds onto, charging him again right behind the flying blade. Kyrinn turns to the side again - out of the way of the projectile and into Slyfoots charge. She brings her other knife down slashing at his neck. Kyrinn reaches up with his right arm catching Slyfoot's arm at the wrist and stopping her slash short. Again the physical contact turns her stomach and she tries to pull away but Kyrinn's grip is rock solid. His demeanor was as calm and cold as ever.

"You should stick to your magic girl. You know you're sorely outmatched in hand-to-hand combat."

Slyfoot reaches behind her waste and frees a long dagger from a sheath hidden under her robes. Desperate to break his grip she tries to make a slash at the hand holding her wrist. Kyrinn jerks her forward when she makes her move, pulling her off balance, and almost making her stab herself in the arm. Before she can recover her balance he again lunges forward twisting her wrist downward and sending her sprawling to the ground. Slyfoot lands on her chest banging her chin off the floor. Kyrinn crouches over her, still holding her wrist, which is now pushed into the small of her back immobilizing her. His touch makes her skin crawl. He bends closer to speak in her ear.

"You say I have taken away from you, but that is a lie. I have taken nothing from you. In fact the staff you attacked me with was a gift from me."

Kyrinn lets his grip go and stands again. When he releases her Slyfoot feels her stomach unknot and her repulsion fade. She rests there for a few moments, letting her strength return to her. Slowly she slides her last throwing knife out of her wrist scabbard.

[Kyrinn the Black]

"You say my house has taken from you, when you know I am without a house. I am nameless in the courts of Neriak."

Once prepared to strike Slyfoot rolls forward, coming to her feet with her back turned to Kyrinn, wheeling on the balls of her feet she turns and rushes him screaming. "EERrraah! You won't mock me again!" Her fighting dagger stabbing at his face and her throwing knife stabbing at his abdomen.

Kyrinn reverses the grip on his sword, holding the blade inward, careful not to burn himself with the heated metal. Before Slyfoots blades can find purchase in his flesh he swings his arms outward in a circular motion, catching Slyfoot's arms at the wrist and forcing her arms out to either side. The forward momentum of her assault carried her forward almost barreling into him. He stops her just short with a hand on her sternum. Then pushes her backward hard. As she staggers away from him he rights his grip on his sword.

"I mocked you did I? Then tell me what it was I said. Tell me what it was that I had taken from you. You're so sure I've wronged you so tell me how."

Seething with rage Slyfoot continues to scream, "Fodder fodder fodder! Any man with a coin could get me in bed! Lanchar had quite the lot of them! You were of his house, so you deserve the same fate! I won't live for it!" She throws the knife in her off hand at Kyrinn's face and rolls forward toward him. Kyrinn raises the glowing shaft of steal to deflect the knife leaving his lower body open. As Slyfoot rolls she slashes at his legs with her dagger, opening an angry red gash that carries across both legs. Kyrinn winces, more out of disgust than out of pain. He whirls his sword above his head as if to bring it down on Slyfoots crouched form but pauses before striking, snarling as he speaks, his anger starting to creep into voice now.

"Lanchar!?! This is about Lanchar!?! That fool is dead and his lackeys died with him. You're such an idiot to come all this way just to die over him!"

Seeing the blood run from his legs bolsters Slyfoots confidence. She presses her attack, moving away then twisting around to come at his abdomen again shouting, "One lackey isn't dead yet!"

"How dare you!!! I am my own Master!!!" he bellows, his anger completely out of check now.

Kyrinn violently brings his glowing blade crashing down on Slyfoots dagger, showering her in sparks and turning her blow aside. Her dagger goes flying from her hand from the force of the blow and she is forced to shield her eyes from the red-hot debris. She goes scrambling for her dagger, half crawling and half rushing. Kyrinn strides forward angrily, driving his sword downward into the stone floor mere centimeters from her face. Slyfoot is forced to halt her movement forward briefly. She looks up at Kyrinn, his eyes now burning red with rage.

"Who do you think you are calling lackey!?! I used Lanchar, and I used Krystis to win my freedom!!! You're the one that still serves!!! You're the one still clinging to the house M'Zors!!!”<br>
Slyfoot rolls onto her back, kicking Kyrinn's sword arm away. He manages to hold onto the hilt of his weapon but the second it takes him to recover allows her to reach her dagger. As soon as she has it in hand she flips upward and rushes Kyrinn again, dagger raised.

"I serve no M'Zors! It is but a name! A guise if you will! No one would think an M'Zors would become what I have! It is all part of the game Kyrinn!"

Kyrinn lets the force of the kick bring his arm and weapon around full circle and slinks down into a low stance. He holds his sword two handed out to his front. Slyfoot brings her dagger down in stabbing motion as he comes out of his crouch, putting his shoulder into her stomach. Slyfoot goes toppling over him. She swings wildly as she goes down, opening another crimson wound in Kyrinn's opposite shoulder. She hits the floor hard with a thud, then lays there motionless. Kyrinn stands over her still holding his sword in a two-handed grip. After a couple of slow breathes, Kyrinn's calm demeanor is restored, his anger once again in check.

"It is such a stupid game you self proclaimed Nobles play."

[Kyrinn the Black]

Slyfoot just lies there, her chest rising and falling as she gasps huge breathes of air. Kyrinn takes a couple steps closer, still holding his sword in a two-handed grip. He is close enough to strike her down but hesitates.

"I don't play a game of Nobles, Kyrinn" , she whispers through clenched teeth. Slowly she tightens her grip on her dagger, testing her remaining strength.

"Are you even hearing yourself girl? Do you think whatever game you're playing at is so different from the one played in the courts of Neriak."

"Yes...Mine has nothing to do with the houses of Neriak...It has to do with revenge on one who forced silence on my lips...and caused the one I loved to disappear without a word..."

Kyrinn lowers his left hand, sword held only in the right. He points his sword out and down, bringing the blade to Slyfoots throat. The glowing metal is close enough for her to feel the heat on her neck and chin but she doesn't move away. Kyrinn holds the sword there motionless, unwilling to make the final thrust.

"Revenge? Clearly you're mad. The only silence I force on people is death. As for killing your lover, well, I've killed countless adversaries. Surely you can't expect me to know them all by name and acquaintance."

"Oh? Then what of Lanchar saying "I am very disappointed in you Slyfoot. Never speak to him again. The Empire is watching you." Is that not silence? No, you did not kill me" She shifts her gaze downward to the heated metal at her throat "well, not yet. Nor did you kill my lover, but the silence you and your house forced between us, the cruelty you forced upon us drove him away in silence. Our love was not broken, but we never spoke again. That is a death harder than the one you offer now! So do it Kyrinn! End it! You have already killed my heart, why not finish the job?"

The muscles in Kyrinn's sword arm tighten, the blade moving ever so slightly closer to her flesh. Anger was creeping back into his voice now, "Lanchar again. What is wrong with you!? I'm not Lanchar! I'm not Lanchar's lackey and I never was! I never told you not to speak with that human. I never even knew of your relationship with that human! You came all this way to die for a corpse and a story you fabricated in your own mind!!”<br>
The heat from the sword was starting to cause a great deal of discomfort now, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of moving away. Angrily she continued, "Did you not report to him! Did you not tell him of my actions! Did you not keep a hawk’s eye on me! You know perfectly well that if I did speak to him and you knew of it you would tell Lanchar without a second thought! So, no, you are not Lanchar, and you did not order silence on me, but you helped to keep it."

Kyrinn shakes his head in disgust, "I told him of our conversation but I didn't care enough to watch you. I didn't care about either of those idiots or their feud. If they ended up destroying each other then that was just less work for me to do later."

Slyfoot lays there in silence for a moment; beads of sweat were beginning to form on her face and neck from the heat of the blade at her throat. Weakly she responded, ".... that is not true...."

"I could just as easily have sided with the human but it was less suspicious for me to side with the other Teir'Dal. I was only looking for a way out of that infernal city. I probably would have ended up killing Lanchar if Bornus did not but it turned out that I didn't have too. In the end the both destroyed themselves without any help from me. I have not spoken or thought of the matter since."

After speaking Kyrinn withdraws his sword from Slyfoot's neck. She continued to lay motionless on the floor, completely silent but for her labored breathing. Kyrinn walks several steps away, giving her enough room to stand but she does not. Kyrinn stares at his ruined sword and sighs, "I would be ashamed of myself for killing someone who is so clearly not in her right mind."

[Slyfoot M'Zors]

“….In my right mind….just blinded by misunderstanding….” Slyfoot mumbles mostly to herself, her blinding rage leaking out of her as her body refuses to comply with her willing to stand and face Kyrinn, but his time not to strike. “ I was…wrong about you Kyrinn….I..I appoligise..” Slyfoot’s lips move but the sound is merely air as she feels her head turn cold from the small trickle of blood licking down the back of her skull.

“You can leave, I won’t kill someone so clearly insane. I will not harm you.” Kyrinn says with his back turned looking over his dented molten orange blade. Upon no answer Kyrinn casually looks over his shoulder to spy the unconscious Slyfoot. He sets down his blade and goes over to her, grabbing the cleanest cloth he can find on his way over as he saw a small amount of blood forming under her head. Bending over her and tying the smudged cloth about her head, “You've ruined my work you little Vixen, I'll have to go out tomorrow to collect more crystals to start again because of you.” He tightened the cloth with a tug, and dug through her pouch, ignoring the strange stones and various things within and pulled out her tunar sack. Taking one 100 piece and one 50 piece, he placed the sack back in her pouch and picked Slyfoot’s small body up with ease. Walking up the dark bowls of Orggok, he carried her to the inn, went up to a room, set her on the bed and straightened a blanket out over her somewhat neatly.

He walked back down the stairs and punched the snoring Inn keep.

“Ugh! Wat joo want? Joo payed joo rent.”<br>
“I am paying for another room, there is a girl in the second room to the left up stairs. She is not for eating.”<br>
“Okies, fine, joo got money?”<br>
Kyrinn puts the tunar he took from Slyfoot’s sack on the counter and heads back up to his own room to prepair for the next morning's hunt.

[Slyfoot M'Zors]

The coolness of the night had just began to ebb away as the sun’s fingers began to creep up the hills when Slyfoot groaned into consciousness. Prying her eyes open she sat in a lull, feeling every muscle in her body complaining. She stared at the crumbling ceiling and knew soon enough where she was. Her head was in a constant state of annoyingly dull pain what was just painful enough to knowtice all the time, but not painful enough to be unbearable.

“I need some ale…” Slyfoot mumbled. Rising, she quickly fell back again as her head swam in nausia. Slyfoot winced as she felt the crude cloth about her wound. Removing it, she felt through her grimy hair at the rough crusted over gash. Her wounds were not bad, a skuffed chin, a small gash, but mostly bruises and muscles pains let her know that she still had arms and legs. She attempted rising again, slowly this time and made her way down the stairs. She walked up to the Inn keep “Joo have ale?”<br>
“Joo speak Ogre?”<br>
“Yar, an joo face is ugly. Now joo have ale?”<br>
“No, I got some of dah boozy stuff tho..”<br>
“ I dun care, jus if it give joo dah gud feelings.”<br>
“Okies, but joo got money?”<br>
“Yeah and how much for dah room?” Slyfoot dug through her sack.

“Dah udder black elf, he payed for joo.”<br>
Slyfoot noticing the missing tunar, “I see dat…okies, how much for dah boozy stuff?”<br>
“ Um…50 tunar?”<br>
“Fine.” Slyfoot hands over the tunar and takes the bottle from him. She eases herself down at a table, and slouchy drinks away the pain.

[Darlena O'seth]

Durning Sly's and Kyrinns battle.

" That blasted ogre said just down the road ... more like half a days journey looks its nightfall now."

Darlena makes her way to where Zugarok is working on her mauler and dumps the ore at his feet. Zug picks up a chuck of the and starts heating it on her blade.

" It no take joo toos long see no mes almost dun."

he starts pounding the ore into the white hot metal.

" It bes gud as new now." Placing the sword in water causing a big plume of steam.

"Here joo go just let the metal harden before joo go swinging it. it be ready in the morning so joo stay at inn tonight okies. "

" Very well ... I will see this kyrinn in the morning."

" Gud mes takes joo to see him .. joo like him."

Darlena walks off with her sword and enters the inn and gets a room upstairs on the right. Durning the night she hears a door shut across the hall but thinks nothing of it. In the morning Darlena exits her room an comes downstairs to where she sees an injured Slyfoot.

" What happened to you, why are you here? " Rushing to her side.

[Slyfoot M'Zors]

Slyfoot looks up at Darlena grogly, fingering her scuffed chin. “Nothing, I am fine.”<br>
“No your not, why are you bruised up?”<br>
“I had some business.”

Darlena is walking about her friend noting her darker than usual skin and grimy appearance. “What kind of business gets you hurt?”<br>
“Personal business” Sly croaks as she takes another swig.

“Please, this is not time for secrets Sly.” Darlena says, slightly concerned over the blackening gash at the base of her skull.

Slyfoot’s lips make a poping noise as she gulps down the booze. “It was just a fight Dar, I had to carry out some personal revenge and it went the wrong way.”<br>
Circling back around to look at Slyfoot face to face “Hmm…against who? It is not like you to be so wreckless.”<br>
“An old enemy, or so I thought.”<br>
“ Is this enemy still here?”<br>
“Well, yes, he is.” Slyfoot gulps down another mouthfull of booze.

Darlena pulls up a chair and looks her friend in the eyes. “He? Does he have a name?”<br>
Slyfoot peers at Darlena seeing she wasn’t going to get around her questioning. She takes another swig, “ You remember I told you about him once.”<br>
“You have told me of a lot. I think you are still dodging me.”<br>
Slyfoot heaves a sigh, “ It was Kyrinn, Darlena”<br>
“KYRINN!! Zug was going to take me to see him this morning…”

Wincing at Darlena’s yell, “Easy….”<br>
“Sorry, but what does he have to do with you? He is nothing/”<br>
“I was mad at him. It goes back to our houses, back to Bornus.” Slyfoot rubs tenderly at the back of her head. “Why on earth are you seeing him anyway?”<br>
“Zug insists that I do.”<br>“Is that so..” Slyfoot says swirling her drink.

“Yeah, I guess I had to cuz he fixed my sword for free so it’s the least I can do….where you gonna kill him?”<br>
“Yes.”<br>
“ I tried….I was foolish……I was blinded by my rage Darlena….”<br>
“You blinded eh?” Darlena chuckled. “You keep telling me not to be.”<br>
Slyfoot rubs at her eyes, “I know..I know….Like I said, I was a fool.”<br>
“I just cant believe how you tried this alone. Perhaps I will slay him in your place.”<br>
Sly looks up from her drink. “Slay him? …..no….”<br>
“Why not? He has already done a great wrong to you then leaves you in this state. How can you say no! Maybe your head is more injured than you think.”

“No I was …ACK!” Slyfoot sudden grabs her head as voices from Wilkens summon her.

Darlena looks helpless at Sly, not wanting to touch her, but not knowing what to do. “What’s wrong with you?”<br>
“Can’t….mmmmm” Slyfoot sqeezes her pounding head between her hands. Darlena looks up at the blonde dark elf coming down the stairs in full armor…Kyrinn.

“Is that him? Is he caushing your head to hurt?”<br>
“Nnnn…nn…” Slyfoot is wreathing.

“Is it just as I thought.” Darlena glares as she pulls her reforged from off her back. “Kyrinn, the sun has set for the last time for you.”<br>
Slyfoot tries to get up, but falls back as Kal summons her. “Ahhr…”

[Rhabuka]

Argra looked up from her pool of water just as Rhabuka entered the cave. The smaller shaman was breathing hard, having crossed long distances to answer her mentor’s summons.

“I appreciate your haste, young one, but time is short. Come, look into the pool.”<br>
Rhabuka nodded and moved to the back of the cave. She gazed into the water at a familiar sight.

“Dat Oggok?”<br>
“Yes, Rhabuka.”<br>
The small bear snuffled. “Wut be dem blak elfs do dere? Me not see dem in da Oggok… not dem ones. Only de one who lurn wit Zug’s sire.”<br>
“He is there as well. A few hours ago, he and Slyfoot fought.”<br>
Rhabuka looked up at Argra, her black eyes widening. “Wut dey fite for? Me no unnerstand.”<br>
“I don’t know why…”

“Is de Slyfoot okies? Is she be get bedder?”<br>
“I think she will be fine. Both are strong in their own way, though in the end I was certain he would slay the young enchantress. Now listen, Rhabuka. I know you have many questions but there is no time. I need you to run to Oggok immediately. Your mate is there, but I cannot speak to Zugarok as I can through you. The battles are not over. You know of the visions I’ve had, for both of them. I need you to be there for whatever might happen.”<br>
Rhabuka noted the urgency in the great shaman’s voice. She spoke the words to let the spirits grant her speed and raced out of the cave, her earlier fatigue forgotten.

Argra turned back to the pool, watching Slyfoot and the unknown Tier’Dal female beside her. Suddenly she noticed the third dark elf enter the room. The old one closed her eyes.

“Hurry, Rhabuka… hurry…”

[Kyrinn the Black]

Kyrinn stares blankly at his new challenger. She was adorned in blood red armor very similar to his own but of a much brighter hue. Her Greatsword was much larger than she should have found easy to wield. It looked as though it was made for a much larger warrior. Ridiculous that Slyfoot would get an assassin to finish her work after he had spared her life. Kyrinn whirled his Polearm into a forward position - set to receive a charge.

"And who might you be?"

His question was answered with a swift attack. Kyrinn moved to his left as Darlena lunged forward, swinging her sword down with both hands. The sword smashed into the stone floor, shattering several tiles. Before the debris even settles she has the sword in the air again, this time swinging to the left in the direction her opponent was moving. Kyrinn tries to counter with his Polearm but she is moving much faster than he thought possible, especially with such a large weapon. The sword bites deep into his arm, pinning it against his torso, tearing through armor and shattering the bone. The force of the swing lifts him off his feet and sends him hurtling into an unoccupied table. he goes barreling over the table landing in a heap, and Darlena follows close behind. Before Kyrinn can get to his feet she brings the sword down again, shattering the table to bits, but he managed to roll away before being crushed along with the table. She only gave him a split second to react before trying again to smash him into the stone floor, but it was enough. Kyrinn jammed his Polearm upward, catching the giant sword in mid swing. The wooden shaft of his weapon bows and cracks but holds up long enough for Kyrinn to get to his feet. As he stands he shoves the sword backward and Darlena goes back with it. Kyrinn pauses for a second to gain his composure. His left arm was hanging uselessly at his side, and bleeding profusely. It would be a hard fought battle trying to wield his Polearm in one hand.


The Ogres that were present at the bar were all on their feet now, cheering and shouting at the two combatants. Fighting was common enough in Oggok but it wasn't every day the Ogres got to see two Teir'dal duel in their tavern. Darlena was quicker to recover than Kyrinn and was pressing her relentless attack; Kyrinn lunged forward as well. Polearm clashed against Greatsword and again the pole was bent but pliant enough to not break. With only one hand Kyrinn was not strong enough to push her back again and was driven back to the wall. He was the first to give, drawing his axe away he turned from Darlena, letting her slide forward. As she passed he took his opportunity to strike at her unprotected back. Her back plate mostly absorbed the blow but the force was enough of a push to knock her into the wall.

Kyrinn took his opportunity to step back, making it to the center of tavern. The Ogres were cheering him on but Kyrinn had guessed that most had bet against him by now. Slyfoot was nowhere to be found. It figured that she would bolt as soon as the fighting started. Darlena turned to face him. She was consumed with rage but took a moment to finally speak to him.

"When I'm finished with you, you will wear the bruises that Slyfoot wears; and you may address me as Darlena!"

"I should have known better than to spare her life." Kyrinn pants as he speaks, "I won't make the same mistake with you"

[Kyrinn the Black]

Again the two combatants charge toward one another. Kyrinn swinging his Polearm downward with one hand. Darlena with her sword held at waist level, blade facing to her rear. Darlena moved faster than he could have ever guessed, stepping into the blow. The pole connected with Darlena's shoulder with a loud crack but the dangerous axe head was a good foot higher and found no purchase. With a one handed backfist she struck Kyrinn's weapons breaking the head off and sending it to the floor. He tries to back away but she swings wildly with her Greatsword, catching him cleanly in the chest breaking his chest plate. He staggers back and starts to go down but Darlena spins the blade in a wide arc as she steps forward, striking Kyrinn again, hard in the back. He is pitched forward, and goes down, sliding on the floor all the way to the wall. He lays there motionless.

She grins as she moves toward the prone Teir'dal on the floor. Much easier than she had expected. It almost seemed a shame that things had went so quickly. She was about to strike the final blow when she is grabbed on the shoulder by a giant meaty hand. She turned to engage her new opponent and found herself face to waist with one of the Bouncer's of Oggok.

The Bouncer already had a wicked spiked club coming down towards her head. Turning her attention away from Kyrinn for the time being she moved to the side as the club swings past her. The Ogre continues to swing wildly but his second blow is easily thwarted by pushing his arm away with her sword. Before he can recover and make a third swing Darlena uses the opening to strike, severing his arm above the elbow. The Bouncer recoils in pain and grips at the gushing stump that used to be his arm, trying vainly to stop the flow of blood. Before she can finish him two more of the cities Bouncers come barreling into the tavern.

The patrons are roaring in delight at the bloody spectacle. The tavern was chaos. The two Bouncers charged, one armed with a sword nearly as big as hers, though he wielded it one-handed. The other was completely unarmed. Darlena charged into them, slashing the armed Ogre across the belly, tearing through armor and flesh. The blood from the strike carried all the way to the wall painting a wide red arc of gore. He fell forward to his knees gripping his open belly in agony. The second Bouncer was close behind him, punching downward but Darlena was impossibly fast. He reigned blows down trying to connect with the small Teir'dal woman but she skipped away, just to quick to keep up with. She turned past him as he made a strike and cut downward toward his poorly armored legs. Her blow cut to the bone, breaking it in two. The Ogre went crashing to the floor face first where he was easily finished off with a short chop to the back of the neck. The Ogre with the severed arm was making a break for the door. Before he can make it out another of the Ogre Bouncers comes crashing through the door, smashing into him and knocking him to the ground. Darlena squares off with the newest arrival prepared to do battle.