Part One

Meuze looked up from the rough sheet of paper she held in her hands, tilting her head slightly as she eyed the house before her while leaning on her spear. Yver had insisted she come visit him, and sent a note with directions to his new home but they made about as much since as the map she had received from that stupid dwarf in Bjarken when she went to look for the king's jewel. It must be a dwarf thing she told herself with a slight nod, closing her eyes and sighing quietly.
 
If this was in fact the dwarf's home, then Yver did indeed have a lucrative profession in his studies of insects. The four banners billowed gently in the cool noon breeze and the seal of this dwarf's clan hung above the door well polished and kept. Meuze could feel her heart sink at the sight knowing how much this house must have cost. "And I couldn't even afford one of the small houses..." she murmured to herself with a frown.
 
Roog sat next to her, his eyes focused on the ground for any tasty rocks or pebbles that might make themselves evident. He whimpered a bit when none were found and acted interested in what Meuze was saying as she left the main path and made for the shiny house. "Not that I want a house mind you, but still, it would be nice to at least afford one. Gods, I saved this stupid dorf's life the least he could do is let me sleep on his porch some time." Roog agreed and let her know with a bark.
 
Flowers were along the path up to his house, heavy stones on either side of the steps up to the door. Roog lagged behind Meuze to sniff at one. He opened his jaws and placed them on the rock, eyes rolling up to look and make sure he wasn't being watched.
 
Meuze reached up to knock on the door, looking at the paper one last time before a loud crunching sound and the shattering of rock made her jump, almost losing her balance on the top step. "Roog, stop that!" The pup stopped mid chew and rolled his eyes up to look at Meuze, cheeks bulging slightly with rock as he sat and whimpered, giving her sad eyes and wagging his tail. He chewed once as drool started to slip from his mouth and Meuze shook her head, looking to the heavens, "Is it any wonder I can't get a house having to fix things with you around..."
 
The door behind Meuze rattled, locks being undone. Roog and Meuze's eyes met, both wide as it opened and Roog swallowed the crushed stone. A dwarf in orange leathers stood behind her, smithing hammer held in hand, the smell of books and paper on him just above the smell of ickier and bugs.
 
"Oh, Meuze, hello, nice to see you. I heard a noise and thought I was being att..." His eyes found Roog and the broken stone to the side of his steps. Roog wagged his tail, mouth open tongue lolling out the picture of an innocent young pup. Yver straightened up and let his arms hang to the side; after all, this woman had helped save him from the Arachites. "Well, at least your here. Your sister is inside, she was afraid you wouldn't be able to read my directions so she helped me write them."
 
'Well that explains why I couldn't read them', Meuze thought with a smile on her face, "Ahh really, I've been meaning to talk to her about her expenses. She empties my vault every time I go out to defend the realm."
 
Yver stepped back, hands held up in front of him, "Whoa now, you saved my life and your do.."
 
"Avatar." Meuze corrected.
 
"Your *avatar* can eat my stones all he wants, just don't kill your sister in my house." The dwarf's tone had a very real begging ring to it. "Now, won't you please come in? I would offer you some ale, but she drinks worse than a dwarf and the brewery is having trouble keeping up with us."
 
Meuze nodded her thanks as she stepped inside. Yver's eyes followed the woman as she moved, the Norselady might be older than some, but her time spent in the field kept her in shape, a shape the dwarf could enjoy. A sharp crunch from outside brought the dwarf's attention back to Roog who had taken the chance to bite into the stone again when not being watched. Yver snapped his fingers and pointed inside with a venomous look on his face.
 
Roog looked taken aback, almost hurt but swallowed his bite as he stood. Grabbing what was left of the small stone, he lifted it in strong jaws and carried it up the steps, stopping in front of Yver to paw at the mat showing he wasn't just a stupid dog, or at least one smart and polite enough to wipe it's feet before it came in.
 
Yver kicked Roog in the backside to get him out of the door way and the pup eyed him with an angry look as the dwarf shut the door. Meuze's back was turned as she hung her cloak and spear on the coat rack, awkwardly letting the spear hang between two hooks meant for a coat. "Don't kick my dog, and what did you send a letter to me for?" she asked before turning around. "It seems everyone these days sends for help but never says what for untill I am in their face so I cant say I am to busy to help. Not that people haven't told me that. 'Oh sorry Meuze, I would use the skills of my ancestors to craft a powerful weapon for you but I'm to busy... selling crap!'... Okay so they don't say that but that's what I get from them..."
 
Meuze blinked a few times as did Yver who raised an eyebrow at her, "Avatar, and what?"
 
"Shut up and nothing, now, what did you send for me for?" Meuze asked as she turned back around, walking freely in the dwarf's house as if she owned it. "Nicollo! Nicollo you lil bi.. uh.. loving sister! WHERE ARE YOU!?"
 
Yver laid his hammer to the side and wrung his hands nervously as Meuze's voice rose. "She's in my study, she can't hear you when the doors are closed, I had blessings placed on it. But if you'll stop yelling and have a seat I'll tell you why I sent a summons." The dwarf held his hand out offering up a dwarf-sized chair.
 
Meuze followed his hand then fell back into the seat which creaked under her weight and size, making Yver cringe. A crunch from Roog who had taken a spot in the corner by the kitchen made the dwarf feel himself turning more and more gray. This woman saved his life just to kill him, Eir bless them all.
 
"Well, you see," he started, but Roog crunched loudly and the dwarf cut his eyes over. Meuze followed the look and sighed. She snapped her fingers and Roog sat up, crunched stone falling from his mouth onto the floor as he sat quietly, ears alert. "You see, Nicollo deals in suppression magics, which I am sure you know. And she uses her magics mainly for making bubbles..."
 
His attention was pulled from the floor where he looked up to Meuze's hands, which were cycling in the air as if commanding him to talk faster. "Well you see, she was doing her bubble thing and working with a few spells in my study trying to make her abilities more powerful when she messed up a spell and..."
 
"And..." Meuze leaned forward in her chair. Leave it to her sister to screw up protective magic and do something bad.
 
"And created a cycling bubble on a Lurikeen." Yver didn't meet Meuze's eyes.
 
"And...?"
 
"And I'm the one that wrote the spell wrong?" The dwarf cringed at telling her this, "We were in Emain Mecha when I had her working with the spells. I wanted to have her try the effect on a warrior, but the spell backfired and worked on the thing the warrior was fighting. The warrior died of course, but with the blessings of Eir was brought back. Though that did nothing for the word that Nicollo was a traitor."
 
Meuze closed her eyes, a hand coming to her face to cover her expression as Roog went back to chewing his food. "Did you explain this to th…"  
"It's hard to explain to a mob looking for blood damn it!" The dwarf shouted, his face turning red as his blood pressure rose.
 
Meuze nodded, he was right, she couldn't argue there. But that still left her with a sister who was marked for death as a traitor. "So what do you need me for? Am I supposed to explain to the mob instead?"
 
Yver shook his head, "No, we can break the spell, I need a few things for the spell though, and we need you to get them. Anyone else we would ask would become curious. Right now they don't know she is hidden here. But bring the things we need, break the spell, kill the Lurikeen and put his head on a pike. If that doesn't clear your sister's name... I don't know what will."
 
Gloved fingers ran through her hair and Meuze grabbed a handful of her bangs. Some of the stupidest things happened to her, or maybe it was the realm. After all they did need help killing frogs in Hugin when the lil critters were stealing food. She rested her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands, "Okay, make me a list."
 
"Already done."
 
"Okay, make me a list that doesn't have me running to Gna Faste, Uppland then back to Gna Faste. List it with everything in one place together." Meuze groaned, spreading her fingers to look out to Yver.
 
The dwarf sighed and began looking for some new paper, "Okay, that may take a bit."
 
Meuze stood shaking her head, "Stupid dorfs, where is your study."
 
Yver frowned at the derogative play on his race's name, "Down the hall left, door with the gold seal on it." As Meuze walked away he looked to Roog who had eaten the stone and now lay asleep on the floor. He mumbled under his breath as he wrote. "Stupid dog."
 
"AVATAR!" Meuze yelled back down the hall.

Part Two

Meuze grumbled to herself as she eyed the double gold stamped runes on the door, Isa runes to be exact. She pressed on the door again trying to open it but the doors didn't budge, and she wasn't about to ask the 'dorf' how to open a simple blessed door.

Thinking over the few magical Runes she knew, Meuze tapped her chin then drew a rune of Algiz on the door, one of the Runes she used on her spells to increase her armor. Light danced along the base then shimmered over the door as the Rune glowed when the light passed it, giving a faint view of the door if it were made of stone.

With a raised eyebrow she quickly traced a Rune of Kano and the doors popped at the lock, the Isa Runes changing to Othilas. Perhaps it was her irritation with the dwarf, or her sister, or the door, or all of the above, but Meuze quickly traced a Rune of Dagaz and the finely carved wood of the doors quietly splintered along the edges.

Pushing the double doors wide, Meuze stepped into Yver's study. Books lined the walls, ceiling reaching much higher than the house looked tall from the outside. The level she stood on was a mere walkway. Four feet out from the door were railings, keeping a person from walking off the edge into the shallow pit.

Quiet feet padded to the edge so she could look over and Meuze saw her sister sitting at the bottom of what was a good thirty or forty feet drop off to a solid stone floor at the bottom. The walls up to the walkway where Meuze stood were lined with books as well save one wall, which held items used for spell crafting, and alchemy. The dwarf even had his own Alchemy table! Which, of course was where Nicollo was sitting, reading over an unrolled scroll while mixing a bit of this and that into a tube.

Ladders were on each of the four walls, to climb out of the pit, then another four set along the walkway to allow access to the upper books. Meuze pushed one of these aside to pick up a heavy bound book, hefting it for weight. She blew dust off of its cover before returning to the railing. With a heavy fling, Meuze sent the book sailing through the air. It arced upwards, hung for a split second before falling back down, past her, into the pit.

Nicollo's brow furrowed and she squinted an eye closed, watching closely with her other eye as to how much crushed glass she was adding to her creation. The book landed with a loud bang next to her, bouncing only once to open to a random page. Even though the book had almost hit her, and made such a loud noise, Nicollo didn't jump, but instead glanced over to the book as if it had just been lightly placed next to her.

Sharp eyes scanned the pages, a empty hand lifting the front half to see the name of the book. She dropped the crushed glass on the alchemy table and turned around to point up to the railing, "Ha! I told you I had seen this book, just had to... oh, Meuze. Trust your dumb luck to find the book I've been looking for."

Meuze cursed her sister quietly in her head as she climbed over the railing and onto a ladder to descend into the pit. Anyone else would have been hit by the book, anyone else it wouldn't have been the book they were looking for, *anyone* else and Meuze would have just shot them in the leg with an arrow. But, it was her sister.

At the bottom of the ladder, Meuze found her sister's back turned to her once again, working with the arcane sciences that suited her so well. Nicollo was a smaller version of Meuze, shorter, weaker, less busty (a point in which Meuze held over her sister's head, and not just because of her height), and at the same time an exact copy of her stubborn attitude, and short temper.

Right then though Meuze was focused on the clothes her sister wore, the fine cloth shimmering in the light, masterpieces of craftsmanship and dyed to perfection, tailored to fit her and her alone. A daemon forged tiara rested on her head and sucked in the light, not letting it bounce back in even a reflection.

Meuze shook her head as she removed her studded gloves and tucked them into her belt, "You know I didn't leave you with access to my vault so you could dress yourself in Midgard's finest and shelter little Lurikeens while I was in the front protecting you from the Albions. I was sort of hoping you would, you know, get a job of your own, or support yourself... some way. Perhaps selling portal medallions?"

Nicolo didn't turn from her work as she spoke, her voice lighter, more tender than Meuze's but still with the sharp edge of sarcasm, "You *know* that woman sells more than just 'medallions', and I would hope that you didn't want me selling anything more than that." Nicollo corked the tube she was working on and sat it to the side, a silver bubble shimmering around it quickly before fading.

Turning to face her sister, Nicollo sneered, her lip raising ever so slightly, "And it's not like *you* were truly working either, off chasing another pathetic man to dump you for a whore of a healer I would bet."

Meuze slapped her sister, a full hand against the caster's tender face. Fingers curled to hold onto Nicolo's hair as Meuze yanked her sister closer and off her feet. She growled down at the younger Flight, "You do not speak of either of them, at all, you owe him and me to much. I've been away to often to raise you with the proper respect our parents raised me, but by the gods I will beat it into you now if I have to. I did *not* come here to be mocked and insulted, nor have my friends treated that way, I came here to save your hide, show respect or I will feed you to the trolls myself, sister."

Nicollo's eyes teared up from the pain, feet scrabbling to get under herself so she could stand, hands clawing at Meuze's armor as she pulled herself up. "Arg! Put me down!" She demanded, the temper showing through, if not the strength. Mother and father were sneaks, as Meuze herself was, Nicollo had chosen the path of magic, but the strength was still there and came out when the woman was angry enough.

Meuze tossed Nicollo on her backside; dirtying the clothes she wore on the stone. "We babied you to much as a child. I should have never let Sanger dress you in those fine clothes; they've gone to your head and made you stupid. I'll do this to save you, but only because you're my sister. If it were anyone else I would let them die. If I'm up holding the honor of the Flight name, you better start acting like a Flight or I will kill you myself so you won't be able to taint us."

Nicollo leaned forward to get up, anger still on her face, "Now listen you slu.."

A studded boot caught Nicollo in the chest, pushing her back down to the stone as Meuze walked past to the ladder, a finger pointed down to her sister. "Stay down, and shut up."

Nicollo lay quiet on the floor as her older sister climbed the ladder, eyes focused on the table where she had been working. Heat billowed around her and Nicollo felt her own anger rising the longer she lay there on the stone. When the wooden doors closed overhead Nicollo sat up and let out a yell of anger that made her lungs hurt, face red, and head dizzy.

The tubes on the table rattled as her magic swirled around her and the edges of paper books began to curl from the heat. "Not worthy of the name!?" Nicollo shouted, "Not worth of our mother's name!?" The stone where she sat glowed bright red, her cloak billowing up from the heat, rising on updrafts even though where she sat didn't seem to bother Nicollo herself, "I will *make* myself worth of my mother's name!"

The room shook and a few books fell from the lower shelves, bursting into flame before they touched the stone floor, leaving not even a trace of ash in the air.

Meuze let the door shut behind her, drawing the Rune of Isa on each one to seal the magic. She shook her head, feeling as if her brain were broken, how could she have let her little sister grow up to be so disrespectful.

The sounds of Yver yelling at Roog came from down the hall, and brought Meuze back to what she was doing. Lifting her head she snapped her fingers loud and clear for Roog to hear. The Avatar's head peered around the corner, before he scurried down the hall to meet her, leaning heavy against her leg, tongue lolling out playfully.

Yver was out of breath, carrying a rolled up piece of parchment in one hand, he pointed it at Roog before handing it over to Meuze, "Your do... Avatar decided to play tug of war with the first copy, but everything should be listed in order so you can get them faster." Roog ducked in and snapped at the Dwarf's knees before snaking his way back behind Meuze's legs to safety. Yver tried to thwap the pup but missed and smacked his hand against his own knee.

Meuze sighed and shook her head at the two as she unrolled the paper and looked over the things she would need to gather, "Okay, I'll see what I can do, where can I find you when I get all of this?"

Yver shrugged, till watching Roog, "Here, my home town, outside Spindelhalla, Skona, you know how I get around." He waved off the question and nodded as Meuze moved to walk past him.

Roog quickly snapped at the dwarf but Yver caught the dog's jaws, holding them shut as he brought his other hand around to smack the Avatar on the end of the muzzle with his palm. "Ha! I got ya mutt!"

Collecting her spear and cloak Meuze opened the front door and looked back before leaving, "Watch what you call my Avatar, he's another side of me you know. Roog, c'mon boy, there's a few more big rocks out here you can eat."

Roog waged his tail happily and barked in Yver's face as he bounded out around Meuze's feet and was gone.

Part Three

Meuze dismounted her horse mid trip, jumping off the back and running to keep from falling on her face. Warriors and Berserkers as well as the other fighters of the realm could carry their weapons close to their body. Even the Seers were able to have most of the weight of their equipment near their body when they dismounted, but a huntress, no, of course not. They mostly carried spears, where the weight was at the end of a long staff, a very long staff. Which is why Meuze always stumbled when she dismounted.
 
The spear tip grazed the ground but she kept her balance, slowing her run as Roog passed her to run up to the long house just up the road. He barked loudly, stopping to leap through a window instead of going through the front door. Even from her distance, barely in arrow range, Meuze could hear the noise as he knocked glasses off of tables and barked at guild members. A Kobold in pink, Pree, climbed out the window. Her clothes worn from use, but a bright pink, the tip of her pointed hat bent to match the playfulness of her character. She giggled like a child as Roog scampered out the window after her, nipping at her heels. The two played around the guild's long house, Roog chasing her, her chasing Roog.
 
Another kobold in blue leaned out the window and eyed the two, a deep sigh as he watched Pree run around the yard, before he leaned to far out and went tumbling to land on his back under the window. Pree and Roog both stopped playing to run over and check on him. Upon reaching his body the kobold reached up to tap on Roog's snout before rolling over and scurrying under the long house to the other side which just sent Roog and Pree off into their playful game of tag with another person.
 
Meuze let Roog play with Pree and Bearthrall as she climbed the steps into the long house. Stepping in the doorway she stood to let her eyes adjust to the darker interior. A deep booming voice rattled her bones when he spoke, a harmonic tone in his voice that made it imposable for him to hide that he was a Skald, "Du yus plan tu stay in dee dor wey?" She squinted in the direction of Cliff's voice and stepped in to hug him in welcome. He sat in a reinforced rocking chair looking over a blade he had crafted, sharpening it with the patience of a stone of the mountain.
 
Sanger sat in a seat at the meeting table, leaned back, feet propped up, chair balanced on two back legs, a map of Albion over his face. His head was leaned back and the sound of his snores could be heard easily from where she was. A part of Meuze twinged in pain, the sound of him sleeping, the memory of him sleeping that soundly next to her... once... a long time ago. Her breath came out in a shaky sigh and the edges of her mouth twitched, hinting at a frown. Cliff looked up to her and patted the Norsewoman on the back with a large rocky hand then went back to his work with out saying a word.
 
Next to Sanger sat Jeswyn, his wife, awake and pouring over a map of Hibernia. A fine finger traced the map, following a path planned and taken often, the escape routes. If Sanger ever were to fall, any under his guidance would look to her. Many followed Sanger's leadership, and would stay to fight to the death if it meant Jeswyn would have enough time to resurrect him. At least, Meuze would. A deep part of her still hated the woman, but not as much as she hated herself. It was her own fault, had she not left to find her goddess, she would never have driven Sanger to this woman out of loneliness, that's what she told herself. But it did nothing to quell the pangs of pain when she saw the two together, at least Sanger was happy. And that's what kept Meuze in check.
 
Xerophe, the lil kobold sweetheart, she sat on a table banging two gems together in front of her younger sister, explaining how they worked in spell crafting. She held a red one up and started to speak, most likely to tell what it did when her younger sister reached out and snatched it from her hand, quickly popping it into her mouth and swallowing. Xerophe reached over and grabbed her younger sister's throat, pulling her down and pounding on her back trying to get her to spit the gem out, then gave up, rolling her eyes to the heavens.
 
Xerome, Xerophe's younger sister was the only one still in her armor, everyone else in relaxed cloth clothing as they lounged around the guild house. Xerome's studded armor was dyed to beat the rainbow. A blue vest, purple arms, red gloves, green pants and yellow boots. A bright orange pointed hat lay on the table next to her. A dark hammer lay cold on the table next to her, the one she never let out of her reach. It lay dead now, but when she gripped it, the thing came to life, color dancing around the teeth marked head of the hammer.
 
Thuak sat alone, cleaning his armor. The man was pale as death himself; it was the time he spent in the caves of Spindlehalla. Meuze and Sanger used to own the place, making daily runs of it, cleaning out everything from stem to stern, but as they grew, and his attentions wandered to other women, Meuze had taken to only visiting the upper portions of their realm. Thuak ventured deep, always deep into the caves, normally alone. Not many people scared Meuze, at least not alone, but Thuak, Thuak gave her a feeling of eeriness. She knew the man could make trouble, she knew he could take what he made and then some. She was glad he was on their side, because that meant she didn't have to deal with him at the point of her spear, yet.
 
The rest of the guildhall was empty, warm sun light streaming in to fill the spaces where the other guild members would have been if they weren't off on their own tasks. Meuze suddenly felt tired and worn, old and used up. She wanted to drop her spear and rest; let old age and the life of a wife take her over. Grow gray with children tugging at her skirt and stop playing responsible. The laughter from the two kobolds and her barking Avatar filtered through the windows and doors on the cool breeze and she sighed heavy while resting her spear on the weapons rack.
 
Her boots were the next thing off, leaving them by the door she padded on quiet feet over the worn smooth wood of the floor to where Sanger lay asleep. Jeswyn looked up in time to catch sight of Meuze as she kicked the legs out from under Sanger's seat, making him fall over backwards. The woman gasped and reached for him as Sanger snoozed all the way to the floor where his head hit and bounced, then he woke up.
 
Meuze jumped up to sit on the table, legs crossing and she leaned forward, hand on the edge of the table, arms squeezing in to hold her assets together and in the center of attention. While Sanger rolled to his feet, looking around, "By Eir the Blood God will hurt who ever did that!" Xerophe and Xerome jumped at the sound of the seat falling and Sanger's shouting, Thuak looked up before going back to his work, and Cliff didn't even move.
 
Jeswyn shot a look to Meuze who just winked and stuck her tongue out at the younger woman, "Promises promises, your wife would most likely have a problem with that. Unless you want to join in on it too honey? Sanger knows how I enjoy those things." The smile let Jeswyn know Meuze was kidding and the healer shook her head before going back to her maps.
 
Sanger huffed and puffed but cooled down, straightening his clothes while Meuze waited patiently for him to finish prettying him self up. "You didn't have to knock me over to wake me up."
 
"I know, but where would be the fun in not knocking you over?" She asked innocently.
 
"Oh, I don't know, not cracking my head open on the floor?" Sanger growled.
 
Meuze waved her hand, limply fanning him away as if he as insignificant. "Cry cry, I thought you were the Blood God, just heal it. I have to talk to you, Nicollo is in trouble, again."
 
Sanger's face got serious and he picked the chair up, turning it around to sit in it. "What happened? Is she alright?"
 
Jeswyn glanced over and Meuze knew she was listening, even though she acted like she wasn't. The two openly hated each other. "You mean you haven't heard? I figured this would have been fast word to spread. I was told she is charged with treason, she was working with a spell and helped the enemy by accident."
 
Sanger's eyes got big, and Jeswyn stopped pretending to read the map, their attention turned to listen to Meuze. "Yver and her were working with a new type of magic based off of her blade turn. From the sounds of it they were working toward an independent pulsing blade turn. Like the blessings of endurance that our Shaman have."
 
Sanger and Jeswyn both smiled to themselves, Jeswyn blushing a bit and looking away to hide her smile. Meuze slapped Sanger with a gloved hand, "Stop that, we've been there too."
 
Sanger tried to look innocent and smug, "Not with the endurance magic we haven't."
 
Meuze raised an eyebrow and stared down at Sanger with venom that would make a Shadowblade cringe away from., "I know, trust me, I know, I was always the one listening to *you* snore, remember."
 
Thuak laughed to himself, as did Cliff, while Jeswyn's look was a mean one up to Meuze. "But I didn't come here to talk about that. I came here because my sister is in trouble." Meuze spoke loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. "Some bad things happened and now I have to get a few special items to break the spell and kill the enemy to clear her name."
 
Cliff rocked slowly in his chair, his booming voice shaking the air heavy, "I didnu kno 'er nam neded tu beh clered. Buh meh wil luk intu et un se wut me kan du."
 
Nodding her head Meuze looked back to Sanger and Jeswyn, "I can't get everything I need by myself, I need your help. She needs your help. And if you won't do it for her then do it for me, please. She's my sister, and she may be a bit off the track at times, but she's not a traitor."
 
Before Sanger or Jeswyn could answer Thuak raised a hand full of polished armor, "I'll do it, I'll help you."
 
Sanger looked to Thuak with an edge of surprise, then back to Meuze, nodding his head, "Okay, me too then."
 
Jeswyn folded her maps up while she talked, "What do we need to get?"
 
"A simple Arachite arm, the Werewolf king's skin, a Jotun's tooth, the blood of a frost stallion, a female highlander’s head, and one of a male Firblog Hero in his animal form." Meuze read from her list written by Yver.  
Jeswyn nodded to herself, head tilting side ways and nodding as Meuze read the list, "Doesn't sound to bad. Lets do it."
 
Xerophe yelled from behind them, "Me tu!"
 
Meuze smirked, folding the list and tucking it back in her armor. "Good, thank you, all. I'll take a day to gather supplies, but I'll be ready to go after that." She slipped off the table, turning her back on the room as she made for the door. Sanger and Jeswyn talked between themselves and Xerophe went back to trying to teach her sister. Thuak moved on to his weapons and cliff still worked on his weapon.
 
Looking over her shoulder, Meuze eyed Sanger as she slipped her boots back on. The heavy hand of Cliff came to rest on the Norsewoman's shoulder and she looked up to him. "Yu kno 'e still lubs yu. Knot deh sam wey as 'e usd tu, but 'e dus. An' dat's wut conts."
 
She sighed; the troll was wise, wiser than he let on. Nodding she tugged on her boot, "I know, that's what kills me." Pulling on his arm she returned the old Troll's smile before leaving, stepping back out into the bright sun. Snapping her fingers she whistled for Roog who stopped licking Pree's face and shook Bearthrall off his back. Light danced over her body and Skadi lent power to her body as she sped away, passing a person on horseback.

Part Four

Night settled on Midgard, buzzing insects giving away to biting ones as the sun sat. Creatures all over the land settled away while the dark beings crawled out of hiding. Shadows slipping from the trees around Gna Faste, undead rising from the dirt farther north outside Aulditen, and Roaming Dirges on the fringes of the Blodfelag's camp to name a few of the creatures of the dark.

Meuze sat leaned against a wall support beam watching the change between the two worlds as they affected the lands around the guild long house. Roog was asleep under the long house with Xerome lying on top of him, the tiny kobold drooling on the Avatar's thick fur.

Thuak, Sanger, Jeswyn and Xerophe had all left to finish their tasks before helping Meuze, and she had returned with supplies to find an empty long house. The horses she could hear coming down the road though were most likely at least a couple of them, though it felt like more. She kept her eyes closed, ungloved hand pressed to the soil and she could feel the horses coming.

The feeling became louder and louder as if she were listening with her hand, the sounds of hooves interrupted by feet as the people jumped off of their horses in front of the long house. A troll, Cliff from the pace, the second was either another troll that walked with Thuak’s pace or the man himself with a large weight.

Opening her eyes she looked up to the two, her expression turning slightly to surprise. Cliff carried a bundle of scrolls, and wore his ornamental garb, he never wore 'The sweet suit' unless he was about to break bad news to his wife or sweet talk an official. His leather armor was reinforced for him, and branded with the Guild's emblem, colors dyed into the thick material meant to draw attention to him and his height.

Thuak carried a large bundle over his shoulder, blood soaking through the cloth wrapped around what ever he was carrying over his shoulder. His armor stained with blood, but he looked no worse for the wear, for the most part of it. The large man nodded down to Meuze as he passed her and Cliff who stepped up to stand in front of her.

"Meh dun chekd wif deh cap'n ub deh gard. Deh dunna hab nar recard ub Nicollo's dun dat." He handed her a scroll that was Nicollo's record. Meuze's eyes flashed over the other scrolls he carried, all stamped with the Guild seal, except one with her name on it, and the scrolls with the names of her parents.

She paused to look up to Cliff before unrolling the copy of Nicollo's scroll. The scroll had her birth date, birth sign, a space for the date of death, realm worthy accomplishments, her given titles and the rights to a small home under her name. Meuze made a mental note to ask Nicollo where she got the coin to buy a house while not supplying her own income. But the scroll didn't make mention of any offences to the realm beyond the times her temper had gotten the best of her and Meuze had to bail her out.

Meuze rolled the scroll up and handed it back to Cliff, reaching for the scrolls with her parent's names on them. Cliff's grip tightened and he pulled them away from Meuze. She gave him a sharp look and snatched for them but his grip didn't break as he pulled them out of her hands. "Yu kno 'bout dem. Yu dunna ned tu seh wut deh relm recards says 'bout dim."

Nodding Meuze let her hand drop, anything that they would have wanted her to know she knew already. And anything she might read now would be read with out an explanation if she didn't know about it before. She didn't have a need to go prying into their past.

Leaning against the long house Meuze stood as Cliff walked inside. His voice roared in the guildhall and light filled the building as the candles and fireplace lit. Thuak's voice sounded from inside and Cliff returned the conversation; it was rare for either of them to just chatter, so Meuze let them talk in private.

The path was dark but she could see three figures walking up the path, two more running up behind then passing the group of three. She walked out to meet them as they came to a slowed stop. "Ahh, Sanger, Jeswyn, nice to see you again." Her arms were out stretched to give them each a hug.

Sanger panted for breath slightly as he spoke, "Hello again, did you get everything finished that you needed?"

Meuze nodded as she hugged Jeswyn, careful of the large pack she carried on her back. "I've asked two others for help, and I think that's Xerophe coming down the road with them now."

She was right of course, the Kobold walked with two others who hailed Meuze and the rest as they came into the light of the warming long house. "Sanger, Jeswyn; I would like you too meet Siegemaster Arnulf, and Siegemaster Hjort. They offered to help when I told them what had happened."

The little Kobold Arnulf stepped forward to shake Jeswyn's hand then Sanger's. "Ello, nice ta meet ya. Wen I 'erd 'bout Nicollo I couldn'a say no. Been watch'n 'er since she was a lil'un, an' I owe ya guild a gud bit. What wit all dim rams ya been buy'n keeps muh famly fed."

Hjort was quieter, grunting but saying nothing as he shook their hands, giving them a curt nod each in turn then walking past them into the guild house. The lil kobold carried tools on his back like most defenders of the realm carried weapons. No doubt about it that this kobold could be called a Taskmaster when he wasn't called a Siegemaster.

Meuze snapped her fingers and followed Hjort into the long house. Roog woke with a start, rolling over he dumped Xerome to the ground where she lay, still asleep and snoring loudly. Inside, Meuze was taken back in surprise. Thuak had unrolled his bundle and the Werewolf King, Hresvelger, lay on the guild's meeting table. His throat ripped out, an axe between ribs on either side of his body.

Thuak looked up from his conversation with Cliff to meet Meuze's eyes only briefly before going back to his conversation with Cliff. Jeswyn lead the troop of those that followed Meuze, laying her pack on the table she dumped out a large molar, blood still stained the roots of the tooth. The young healer blew and brushed hair from her face, "Jotun's tooth, correct?"

Meuze nodded as she fell back into a seat, "Well, did you get the heads for me too, or do you actually expect me to do some of the work?" she asked with a tad bit of sarcasm and joke in her voice.

Xerophe started with surprise and reached into the pack at her side. "Xerome says she gib yu dese 'cause yu needs dem." Five Arachite arms were laid on the table, three with deep chew marks, the other two perfectly fine having been ripped out at the shoulder.

Reaching out she grabbed the lil Kobold's head and pulled her in to kiss her on the forehead, "Thank ya, hon."

She sat back in her seat as those left standing found a place to set or a wall to lean against. Conversation between Thuak and Cliff quieted and stopped as Meuze spoke to them all. "Thank you all for jumping ahead of schedule and getting these parts, it will save quite some time on the gathering, but first I have a few things I should let you all know."

"Siegemasters Arnulf and Hjort are here to help us on gathering the head of our foes. As I'm sure you all know, when an enemy dies, the body is called back to their realm by their gods. Arnulf believes he can stop the bodies from being called back, if he can pin down the enemy with his nets while they are still alive. Hjort here is the fastest siege constructer in this realm and faster than any in the others." She pointed to each of the kobolds in turn, even though they could pass for twins she could somehow tell them apart, and they each nodded to the group in turn.

"We have to engage a group of enemies, keep them busy long enough for Hjort to make his siege, and Arnulf to load his net. Once we have them tangled up they should be easy kills and their bodies ours to do with as we please."

Arnulf nodded in agreement, "Jus kep'em off ub us, an you's got yaselfs uh mass ub bodies."

Meuze quickly debated telling them what else was on her mind, but let it slide, figuring it for a problem on her end if it needed to be fixed, they were already risking their lives for her and her sister, no need to pressure them more.

She stood from the table, "That's about it then, if you've changed your mind and don't want to go and risk your lives on a plan like this, then feel free to stay here, I don't hold it against you. This has never been done before." Turning her back to the table, the huntress could hear them gathering themselves to follow her.

Cliff bid them farewell while taking the things from the table, tossing them into a back corner of the long house to keep for Meuze. He returned to the longhouse entrance in time to see them speed off under the blessings of Eir from Sanger and Jeswyn. He prayed for Bragi to watch over them, sighing the breath of earth as they vanished into the night. "Tak car ub muh chil'rn, ar yu gunna beh wun god wif uh angreh Trol aftuh yu."

---------

The portal fort stood at the entrance of upland of the Vale of Mularn. It's tall black walls blocking out the starlight that outlined it against the white snow covered hills. The sight still sent shivers down Meuze's neck every time she saw it. The heavy doors swinging slowly open to let the small group enter.

Meuze wore her black and gold armor, bow over her left shoulder, quiver of barbed arrows over her right. The heavy Dread Bone spear hung cold in her hands. Sanger and Jeswyn wore their dark chain, guild cloak on her, a dark blue cloak on him. Thuak in his blue studded armor with axes hanging at his sides moved quieter than Roog who quickly caught up with the group. Xerophe wore her gray chain proudly leading the middle of the pack.

When they entered the fort, Meuze's eyes went directly for Gwulla who was leaning against her spot on the wall, looking as disheveled as ever. A young Skald ran past the guild group while the door closed behind them. Meuze followed him up to the Medallion merchant to purchase portal medals for them all.

The young Skald held up a hand full of copper and a few silvers to the blond woman, "Hello, I want a special medal, or what ever. I've never done this before."

The woman looked down at the young Skald with a raised eyebrow, "You're a lil young aren't you..?"

The Skald looked confused and his hand holding the money lowered slightly. "Uh..."

Gwulla shrugged, "Let me finish selling these people portal medallions kid, then you can have fun." she said with a slight smirk on her face as she turned to face Meuze.

The Skald looked confused and his hand dropped as he looked around, "Huh?"

Meuze dropped two gold coins into Gwulla's hand, "Seven for Albion, seven for Hibernia."

The blond woman nodded, motioning in the air and summoned up the medallions asked for. She started to dig through her coin purse for change but Meuze stopped her and took the medals. "Keep the change, you need it more than me."

Gwulla sneered her face at Meuze as Jeswyn stifled a laugh. Watching the group walk away, she grabbed the wrist of the young Skald and pulled him away from the portal pad.

The Skald let himself be pulled along as he spoke, "I'm twenty one, what do you mean a lil young? I just wana go kill Albions and Hibbys."

Meuze rolled her eyes and shook her head, leaning over to whisper to Jeswyn before the Gothi began to cast their spell. "At least she's keeping morale up."

Jeswyn nodded and fought to keep a strait face as she spoke, "Her feet, too."

The uproarious laughter of those in the group echoed in Svasud Faste as the Gothi began to cast their spell, and ended abruptly as the adventurers were teleported through time and space to the lands of Albion.

Part Five

The air shimmered a light blue, rushing in to form the bodies of Sanger, Jeswyn, Thuak, Xerophe, Meuze; the Siegemasters Hjort and Arnulf were waiting already, the tiny Kobolds loaded down with wood, and metal springs, hooks dangling at their sides. In this land the sun was just setting which threw Meuze off, the others didn't seem to mind though.

Sanger and Jeswyn went right to work, forming the magic that would guard and augment the members of the group. Segemaster Arnulf seemed to sigh in relief when Saner increased the tiny kobold's strength. Xerophe followed behind the two healers, using the powers given her by Ymir to bless with her own special magic, she was also the first to help the other kobolds with the weight they carried.

The lands of Hibernia, Meuze didn't come here to often. The death of her parents at the hands of the elves had kept her away in what she wasn't ashamed to admit was fear when she was a child. The huntress had just never grown to enjoy the green rolling hills of this land like the others did. Still, she knew the lay of the land; no hunter or huntress could truly call themselves a person of the land with out knowing their way around a few trees and rocks.

Thuak tugged at his armor, securing it in place then his weapons before looking up to Meuze, "This is your quest, we're just here to keep the odds even." Nods and words of agreement made it unanimous that Meuze was the leader for this stretch of the adventure.

Tugging on her gloves, she checked her bowstring and arrows, spear and armor before whistling to the wind. Green strands of Skadi's hair danced around her body and Roog climbed from under Meuze's feet to stand beside her, his fur a shining black in the setting sun's light.

With the speed of Eir, the group moved from the portal fort down it's small hill to the main path up to the mile gate. The mile gate was a long low wall of solid rock, forged by those before, in the times of peace between the realms. A place once used to take toll for trading between the three realms now stood quiet and cold. Stone walls thick enough to stop a stampede of trampling Trolls, Meuze even dared to think it could stop the hand of many gods, if they ever bothered to try and knock down what could just as easily be gone over with a god's power.

The gates were heavy wood, repaired and broken many times, a choke point that many enemies liked to use as a place of surprise, today was no different. An arrow flew through the air for Sanger, barely missing his throat and passing to stick deep into the ground. Meuze suddenly realized she was the only long range damage they had besides what ever the siege masters had up their sleeves. She quietly kicked herself, but it was to late now.

She drew her bow and knocked an arrow, eyes scanning the wall to where a Briton stood, his arrow drawn and let loose. Meuze let her arrow fly, it whistled as the twisted flight made the arrow spiral, striking dead on target in the man's right shoulder. She quickly pulled and drew a second arrow, Sanger already chanting the spells to stun the poor soul that had tried to kill him. Sparks danced over the archer's head and Meuze let go a second arrow as two small blue figures rushed past her, throwing axes over in high arcs.

Her arrow whistled again, visibly shaking in it's flight as she made the metal and wood dance on the air. It grazed exposed skin of the man's neck pulling a bright red line of blood before the two large axes thunked into his back taking him down. The kobolds gave their respects in turn, both less polite than the others who just moved on through the mile gate.

On the other side Jeswyn pointed out to the west, a single young woman in leathers running away, she saw them watching her and vanished into the dusk shades. Not even Meuze's fine eyes could follow the woman from that point on.

"They know we're here, lets set up." Meuze looked to the mile gate thinking to herself. Her eyes squinted and she looked west again, then south. "Hey, Hjort." The kobold grunted to let her know he was listening. "What's the range on your weapon with the ammo you will be using?" She asked turning her eyes to him.

----------

Cliff rubbed stone hands over his face. The night was cool and it had begun to snow outside, but the Troll didn't mind. The fire roaring in the fireplace was more a visual comfort for him than a true need on a night like this. The windows and door of the Long house left open attested to the truth in that.

Papers lay spread on the table before him, stones sat at the four corners to hold them down and he looked over them again. His large left hand picked up a bucket holding the dwarven brew he drank. Throtonna, a large troll in her own right, being larger than the tallest Norse, yet still shorter than the tallest troll, came up behind where Cliff sat, her large arms wrapping around him. She wore a loose gown that she slept in made of a rough cloth, the guild emblem proudly sewn into the cloth.

"Wy don yu jus com tu bed huney? Yu tink betta afta yu'v slep sum." Her eyes looked down to scan what he was poring over. The records for Meuze and Nicollo, as well as their parents, Guild records, laws for record recording and law enforcement in general.

Cliff jumped and slapped his hand down over the assorted scrolls, covering part of the record for Meuze's mother and father. "Eh, I wud lub tu, buh meh gotsta tak car' ub dis."

Throtonna jumped at his sudden movement, eyes turning to him. "Wut's rong din, tak et ot an seh if'n dat 'elps."

The large Skald shook his head as best a troll can before turning back to his work, leaving his hand over the scrolls. Throtonna sighed and shook her own head. He had never hidden anything from her before. Her hand rubbed his shoulder down to the back of his neck, lips putting a kiss on the back of his head. "Wel, meh hops yu fin wut yu luk'n fer."

She turned to walk back to their room when Cliff spoke, his voice quiet, almost to quiet to be heard over the wind outside and the fire inside. "Throtonna...” Stopping she turned back to face him, arms crossed to hold her robe closed more of modesty than chill.

"Throtonna... Perty beh o'r dauta... deh rus ub deh guld tak car' ub 'er tu. Deh 'er famleh, 'er bruda's an sista's." Cliff spoke slowly, taking time to think on his words before talking. "Ib she gots 'erts, du yu tink deh guld wud stawp lik'n 'er? Wud yu stawp lik'n 'er?"

Throtonna looked long and hard at the back of Cliff's head before she spoke, "Perty beh muh babeh. I dunna car' wut hap'ns tu 'er, an I dun tink deh guld wud eder."

Cliff nodded and stood from his table, he quickly gathered his cloak and weapons, turnign to point at Throtonna. "I lik al or cheldrun, un weh hab tu watc ober dem frum tim' tu tim', yar?"

His wife nodded slowly, understanding that he had business, if not over what, "Yar, gu, an meh Bragi beh wif yu."

The large troll Skald turned, dashing off into the snowy night, his cloak fluttering behind him in the strong wind. Throtonna watched him leave then moved to the table to look over the scrolls. Her eyes scanned them quickly, then again slower to make sure she caught what she was looking for. Slowly she read a long block of text, her mouth slowly dropping open, and eyes watering.

She sat down with a heavy weight, the chair squeaking under her. Large stone hands came to cover her eyes then slide down to cover her mouth as she reread the scrolls. 'Damn deh gawds.' she thought, 'Damn dim al.'

----------

Meuze sat in her tree, a low branch so she could quickly dismount, or fire her bow as needed. Thuak laid on his back in the brush a good distance ahead, Jeswyn near him leaned back against a large bolder. Where they lay they could look north and watch the mile gate, but they watched to the south, where the Albions would be coming from.

Stars rolled overhead and Meuze became impatient, Roog pacing around the base of her tree. Motion showed from the south in the valley, a full group coming up the path, Albions. Meuze squinted looking over the faces. There, in the middle of them, a female highlander, she prayed to Skadi that her plan would work.

Sanger came from the southwest, Eir aiding his speed. Meuze's fingers gripped her arrow tighter, studded leather creaking in the damp early morning's darkness. Sanger waved to the mile gate, signaling he had finished his part of the deal, before diving behind a fallen log.

The Albions filtered up to the gate, pausing as a woman took the lead, she spoke in a strange tongue, but pointed to the wall and people began to file out, climbing the mile gate with weapons at the ready.

Meuze's eyes were to the south west, she could see Sanger's hand stretched out from the end of the log he hid behind, fingers splayed. Suddenly his fingers curled, a tight fist that shook quietly. Meuze roared with laughter inside, proud of her sneaky plan and set up as she pulled back her arrow, and let it fly, nailing a person in chain carrying a flute.

The arrow struck at the back of his knee and he let out a yell of pain. The rest of his group turned to find Meuze's little surprise bearing down on them in the form of a group of angry Hibernians waving the flag of those that held Dun Cruchon. Sanger had been the bait, and the hungry fish had bitten, every single one of them. They were about to have a war on their hands.

----------

Yver sat in his study, thick glasses on so he could read over his book. He wrote a small note on his paper before picking up a vile of thick green liquid that rolled like cold snot. He got up from his workbench and crossed the room to where a sleeping kitten lay in a wire cage. He reached in, petting the kitten till it awoke.

The kitten slowly woke up, rolling over to let him scratch it's tummy. The dwarf frowned as he reached in with both hands, uncorking the vial and pouring it on the kitten. The kitten lay there to let him pet it, but when he stopped and stepped back the kitten opened it's eyes and sat up to watch him with a sleepy look on it's face.

It's fur began to bristle, rising on it's own. The kitten licked the fur trying to smooth it out but the fur still rose. Static surrounded the kitten and it began to meow up to Yver. The dwarf grimaced at the kitten, the expression turning to a grin as it rolled over, and side splitting. Two tones of meow echoed in the room, bones popping as they doubled in the body.

"Yes, yes, that's it, that's what...” The kitten rolled over, dead in its cage, the magic gone. "That's... not what I was looking for..." He turned slowly, running it over in his mind, a flash of anger and he threw the vile into the darkness outside his candlelight. It shattered on some unseen surface, liquid glowing in the dark then vanishing.

The dwarf froze, noticing what he had done as cloth rustled in the dark. "Wha...?" The voice of Nicollo as she rolled over, waking up.

The dwarf quickly reached into the cage, pulling out the kitten and tossing it into his waste basket. His book he closed, papers stuffed haphazardly into the front of the book. Quick hands grasped the wastebasket.

"Nothing sweetie, go back to sleep..." The dwarf said in a suggesting tone.

Nicollo rolled over in the dark again and Yver felt her eyes upon him. "Taking the trash out this late?" She asked in a blurry voice.

"Huh? Oh, yes, the kitten got out and damaged a few vials. I thought I would throw them away tonight so she wouldn't get into them since it's to late to go chasing her around."

Nicollo sighed a deep breath, rolling back over. "Mmm, what ever, I'm going back to sleep."

Yver sighed a long slow quiet breath of relief as he turned his back on Nicollo's voice and picked up his candle. As he walked away she spoke again and Yver's blood froze, "I know what you're doing."

The dwarf stopped mid step, breath caught in his throat as he was sure death would be coming in the form of magic at his back, but it didn't... just the quiet of an awaited response. "R...really? D... does it bother you?"

Nicollo snorted, "Heh, no. I almost expected it from a dwarf like you."

Yver swallowed hard, the room spinning. She can't catch him this early, she just can't, the gods would never be that cruel. "Yver... Stay out of here when I am sleeping, and stop trying to touch me when you think I am asleep or I'll kill you."

He almost fell to his knees to thank the goods right there, mind racing for the proper response with out giving her a hint that he was doing anything more than what she thought. "Uh... y... yes Nicollo... I'm sorry."

He was quiet, not moving for fear of seeming to eager to leave when he heard an almost in audible snore. He let out a heavy sigh that felt as though it emptied him out. 'Thank the gods!' he though, a shout in his head.

Quickly he made for the ladder up and out of the study, but his light caught a glimmer of broken glass and something. He stepped over to look where the vial he had thrown landed. It had broken on a book, and now all that was left were the shards of a broken glass vial and two books where there once was one.

Yver picked up the books, inspecting them closely. They were such exact copies that he couldn't tell them apart. But it wasn't the book itself that gave him the most pleasurable surprise, but the bug that he had pressed between the pages in his particular one.

He grinned with glee, closing the books, and putting one back, carrying the other out with him. Yes, this was going to work, this was going to work and all he needed were the things Meuze was collecting for him.

----------

The Albions and Hibernians clashed with a loud ringing of metal on magic, great flares of power in the air that made the night into day. Meuze shot arrows into the group, deftly landing shots on people, to interrupt them, bringing the two she needed closer together.

She snapped her fingers and pointed for Roog, who quickly ran out into the fray, passing Thuak by leaping over the man. Thuak quickly rolled over and followed the animal, Jeswyn turning and side stepping out from behind her rock to watch Thuak's well being.

The Berzerker followed Roog through the mass of bodies, duel axes, chopping at flesh. Roog quickly found his target, leaping up to grab the antlers of a helm.

Meuze growled and pulled an arrow from her quicker to sink the tip into the chest of a Blademaster that Roog had mistaken for the Firblog in his animal form. 'Other one!' she thought to Roog who just responded with confused feelings as he eyed the fallen Blademaster with a horned helm.

"Crap, he can't tell the difference..." Meuze murmured. She drew two arrows, licking one of the three flights on each, "Jeswyn, drop a Area Stun on them for me!"

The healer didn't ask or wait, eager to make the air fill with red as every one caught in her spell froze. Meuze let two more arrows fly, hitting the people on either side of the Firblog. Roog followed the arrows and located his target, quickly going for the throat.

Thuak took this opportunity to tackle the highlander, throwing her toward the stunned Firblog. Springs screamed and people began to move. Thuak dropped to land on his back, golden thread falling down around him. Weapons came at him, yet he rolled back the way he came, coming up as the golden wires fell from the heavens to catch those alive under it.

Yells from the Albions and Hibernians both warmed the heart of Meuze as Xerophe dropped from where she had been hiding on top of the mile gate's center housing with the two Siegemasters. Her fingers traced runes in the air and Thuak's scratches vanished.

Meuze smiled to herself; that had worked much better than she had hoped. The group didn't even have to stress themselves as now they had everything they needed and then some pined down. Gathering up, the group eyed their handy work.

Seven live Hibernians, six live Albions, "Good work all, you made it look easy enough that I kind of feel bad for asking for your help." Meuze joked. She pointed two the two that she needed, "Bring me their heads, the rest, ya'll can do with as you please."

Thuak grinned, pointing to the netting. "Sanger, give me a stun right there." Sanger eyed the Norseman but did as he asked. Stepping forward, Thuak cut the netting just enough for a single person to climb through and waited. "We've still got a long night, I'm gonna have some fun."

The stunning spell slowly wore off, and those closest to the rip pulled at the hole, climbing free one at a time, free to their deaths at the hand of a blood thirsty Norse. Meuze's stomach turned at the gory sight as Thuak ate through them one at a time. It wasn't the sight of the blood that turned her stomach. It was how good it made her feel to watch him slaughter the Hibernians one at a time that made her sick.

Part Six

Cliff's stride slowed as the storm worsened, winds rolling snow that had landed blowing it into drifts where it stuck. The harsh wind pelted Cliff with ice as well, making his armor and cloak stiff. The troll reached up to his face and pulled ice from over his eye where it had gathered.

Kampvilja's guild house lit the night in front of him, it's windows and door shut to stop the cold. Torches burned bright in the front windows making halos of rain bowed light in the cool night air. The fire roaring in the guild's mantel at the back of the long house was the only other light Cliff could see through the window.

Strong winds gusted against his back making his cloak flutter past, stiff corners tapping against the wood of the house, the first sounds he had made besides the crunching of fresh snow under foot. A voice whispered from the night behind him. Cliff knew that if he turned to look for the source he wouldn't see it unless she wanted to be seen. Looking over his shoulder the night blacked everything outside the warm glow of the welcome lights in Kampvilja's front windows.

"Hjall, Cliff. A nice night, ya?" Smilla asked, stepping into the light for him to see. She wore cloth, and only cloth. A short cut sleeveless shirt, and long cloth pants, her feet were bare and she walked with a step that kept the snow from making a sound, but didn't slow her movement. The woman's dark hair was let down and it fluttered in the night's strong winds, ice gathered on strands and her exposed skin but she didn't seem to mind.

Her hand came to her face, fingers splayed she ran them down her face, down over her chin. She rolled her head back, eyes closing as the fingers slid down her throat to her chest. Finger tips rested on the exposed skin just above where her shirt covered the tops of her breasts. The woman let out a long sigh that came in the form of a breath of steam.

Cliff swallowed hard and stepped back to bump into the long house. He suddenly felt boxed in and pined down, as well as a bit warmer too. "Yar, tho uh mit'bit kold o't 'er fer yu lik dat doh, a'n et?"

Smilla opened her eyes and smiled to the troll, "I know ya didn'a come here to tell me to put more clothes on, an' I doubt ya wanted ta interrupt my walk. What do ya need Cliff?"

He straitened and stood away from the guild long house before speaking to her. "Wun ub muh chil'run 'as uh bah pas'. Wun dat ib gunna git 'er in truba, Meh neds sum wun tu wawtch ober 'er an kep 'er saf. Eben ib'n et meens brek'n deh laaw uh bit."

Nodding, Smilla crossed her arms and thought. She didn't owe Cliff, and frankly didn't know why he thought she could be trusted with something that sounded like it was against the inner realm Laws. "Tell me more."

Cliff nodded, for what he was asking her to do she had every right to want to know. "Nicollo is onleh haf Norse. Wif deh laaw, wen uh chil' ib en der mid twantehs, deh hab tu beh kilt tu kep deh relm pur uf dem nawt Kobold, norse, Troll or Dwarf."

Smilla shrugged, "Much like the Blodfelag's own law to be pure Norse. That is looked down on, what makes this different? I doubt your guild member is in any real threat."

"Meh saw deh law order set wif 'er def dat own et. 'Er 'ead's ben markd fer kil'n on 'er berfdeh."

Smilla thought on this bit, "Nicollo is Meuze's younger sister, correct?"

"Yeb."

Crossing the short distance to the guild house's door, Smilla stood with her hand on the wooden frame, looking up to Cliff. "I thought the law also stated any impure children born were to be killed at birth."

"Der is uh catche in deh law, uh muder meh gib 'er own lif en excheng." Cliff sighed, "Don' mak Meuze's muder's def beh uh was'e. Sheh libed uh har' nuf lif, ef Nicollo ib kilt, den ebry wun wil kno wut deh trit tu 'ide."

"She shouldn't have been mixing with the enemy then, should she?" Smilla snapped.

Cliff's sharp eyes looked down on Smilla in anger, which made the woman blanch, "Sheh dineh hab nar choce 'en et. Deh elfes captered 'er an Meuze's fader, deh wus lukie tu git uh weh."

Smilla stared into Cliff's face a long while, ice forming on her still body. Finally she turned her head and entered the long house with out another word. Cliff watched the woman leave him, and heard the door shut and lock. he sighed in defeat. He didn't know any other of Meuze's friends that had the skills he needed, or any strong willed enough to go against the law so blatantly.

Slowly he began to walk off into the night, thinking as only a troll could, devising plans on how he could sneak Nicollo out of the realm to safety when an arrow buried itself into the tree he was walking past. He quickly looked over his shoulder, but nothing was there in the night. No other arrows followed and he smiled to himself, reaching up and taking the arrow from the tree as her word.

------------

Yver walked down the dirt path from is house to the main city, fresh snow from the storm the night before littered the ground on either side of where he walked. He hummed a quiet song as he opened one of the two books he was carrying. His finger ran over the flat body of the dead insect inside and a smile crossed his face.

A large stone hand slapped down to grab his shoulder, "Tel Meuze 'er sistuh is wawnted fer tresun, eh?"

Yver jumped, heart leaping to his throat at the sudden grip. "Cliff! uh, h... hello Cliff." He laughed nervously as the grip tightened and the troll began to growl. "Uh... care to um... hear me out?" his voice was almost begging.

"No, nar releh." Cliff said as he looked around them. Others used the path too, so he couldn't kill the dwarf out here, or he could he just wouldn't be able to get away.

"Please, just let me talk to you, tell you what's going on?" Yver begged.

"Kep walkun, yu gawts til meh gets yu alon. If yu ain cunvenced meh by den..." He let his voice trail off as Yver slowed but kept moving.

Yver sighed, but started to talk, stumbling over his words, "Nicollo's power is growing, and she is too. She keeps wanting more and more, even as her strength grows daily. I wanted to know how her magic was increasing so fast, she's learned to handle the magic of our gods so incredibly soon. So I did some checking on her parents, did you know both of them were Hunters?"

Cliff nodded as his hand squeezed tighter on the Dwarf's shoulders, "Yu dunna hab permeshun tu luk at der recards."

Yver bit his lower lip against the pain, and ignored Cliff's point, "I also found out that Nicollo..." he glanced around, noticing no one around them he knew that at least Cliff was listening. "Nicollo, she's only half Norse, her other half is elf."

Cliff squeezed tight and picked the Dwarf up, taking him off the side of the path and down into a gully. He's feet sped up and he easily left the road behind. "I kno, an yu tel no wun..."

Yver nodded, "I know, I didn't even tell Meuze or Nicollo, I don't want them to know. If anyone found out, they would be hunted down, not to mention it would look bad on your guild."

"I dun car 'bout 'ow et maks us luk, whi yu nawt tel dem?" Cliff asked as he slowed and sat the dwarf down.

Yver rolled his shoulder and rubbed it softly, "Why didn't you, since you seem to know already."

Cliff nodded in agreement. They didn't need to know for the sake of knowing, and telling them would just bring upset within their family if they knew what had happened to their mother, and that they weren't pure sisters. "Sou, wut du yu plan tu du. Whi tel Meuze tu git dose tings, ar wus et tu kep 'er out deh weh."

Yver shook his head, "Meuze helped me before when the Arachites were messing with my body, they tried to take my evil side to lead them on over throwing the realm. I figured I could do the same thing, but with Nicollo, split her Elf from Norse. The law demands that she be killed at her age; so, if we split her they could kill her elf side, Meuze would be left with a sister, and the whole thing could be kept quiet. Their family name upheld and the only ones that know are us and the ones in charge."

"Sos deh les pepul dat kno, deh beta. 'Ow yeh gunna git Nicollo tu go ulong wit et?" Cliff asked, arms crossing over his broad chest.

"Don't tell her." Yver said simply, "I've told her I found a way to make her power increase, virtually double it. Which, is partly true. I plan to use the things Meuze is gathering to make a spell to split her, but to her she will think it is a spell to make her more powerful. When the spell splits her, she has only to kill her elf half and it will be done, her none the wiser... I hope."

Cliff raised what would have been an eyebrow, "An yu releh tink dis wil werk...?"

Yver shrugged, "Do you have a better idea?"

Cliff shook his head no, "Whi dineh yu jus com' teh meh in deh fers' plac wit yer plan? Meh cuduh 'elpt yu."

Yver tilted his head forward, eyes rolled up to look doubtful at Cliff. "Most people if I walked up to them and told them they had a half elf in their guild would be less than pleased with me and the person. I had no way to know how you would react."

Cliff let out a long low sigh, "Nex' tim tul meh sos meh duna tink yus up tu sum tin, yar?"

Yver nodded his agreement as he got his bearings, "Yes, I'll be sure to do that, just make sure you don't shelter any more half elves, this has been stress enough."

Cliff watched the dwarf walk off, rolling the meeting over in his mind. It made since, in a dwarfish kind of way. But he didn't feel as if he could relax until this event was done and over with.

Yver sighed a breath of relief and shook his head once out of sight of the troll. It was a good thing Cliff beleaved him, or he might not have gotten a chance to finish his work.

Part Seven

Smilla sat in a large pine outside Yver's house, her left leg stretched out along the branch she balanced on, her other bent at the knee, foot resting on the branch. Her hair hung long and loose down her back, the dark strands catching a cool wind ever so slightly. Snow littered the ground from the storm that had ravished the land the night before, leaving a clean cool scent that bit at the nose. Branches shook in the wind and dropped small bits of snow.

Closing her eyes and leaning her head back, Smilla drew a long steady breath. She could smell blood in the air as her tongue licked moist lips and a half smirk crossed her face, from the taste it was Firblog and Highlander. She sniffed the air again, letting her tongue rub over her front teeth to taste the air. Meuze was with the scent of blood, Smilla could taste her.

Opening her eyes she sat up quickly, vanishing into the shadow of the tree. Strong fingers dug into bark as feet pushed herself up higher, Meuze had just as much chance to find her as Smilla had, and the huntress knew it, so she hid and held still against the tree's body.

The huntress grit her teeth and slowed her breath. She didn't think Cliff wanted Meuze to know her sister was being watched, or why.

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Meuze walked the path to Yver's house, Roog jumping in the snow banks and burrowing small tunnels before coming out to bark at Meuze, dancing around her feet. A large rough sack bounced over her shoulder, two heads inside bouncing with her step. Blood soaked the bag, the scent strong in the air which was probably the reason Roog was in such a good mood.

Smiling down to Roog, Meuze turned onto the path to Yver's door and slowed her pace. Roog looked up to Meuze, ears twitching. He whined and looked around them as did Meuze. Something was out of place, and didn't feel... quite right. Her eyes turned to the tree in Yver's yard and she stared into the branches, eyes slowly squinting to see in the shadows.

The door to Yver's house clicked and the dwarf stepped through, waving to Meuze, "Hello there! It's about time you came back, I wasn't quite sure you would be able to get what I needed after so long a wait!" He smiled down to Meuze, tossing fist sized rocks for Roog to keep him from eating another stone at his steps.

Her eyes turned away from the tree and her expression to a grin when she heard Roog's crunching sounds. "It's nice to know your trust in my skills is so shining."

Her studded boots made still padded sounds as she climbed the steps, a sharp whistle calling Roog into the house before the door closed.

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Smilla let out a long breath as the door shut, her grip loosening on the door. Meuze may have less experience than her, but her senses were just as sharp. Looking to the house, she dropped to the ground and snuck away to a new hiding spot, not a sound or foot print as she crossed over fresh snow.

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Meuze dropped the sack on Yver's rug in the den, blood squishing out into the fine weave. "Here you go, the heads you wanted, and assorted... other oddities." Digging in her pack she took out another smaller bundle, dropping it beside the large brown sack.

Yver rubbed his hands, picking up the bloody sack first in hopes to stop at least some of the blood spread. "Well thank you, you can go now I'll have Nicollo send for you when..."

Meuze tapped his shoulder with the tip of her bow, "Hmm, not so fast I think. Sit down." She pushed him down, stepping up and putting weight on his foot, bringing the bow tip up to under his chin. Meuze spoke in an demanding tone, "Tell me what you need these for. Cliff checked the records for me, and told me she isn't wanted for treason."

Yver tried to crawl back away, but found his foot pined to the floor, looking around the room, all he found was Roog giving Meuze an odd look, trying to figure out what she was on about. "Wha.. I uh, I had to lie to you! She made me!"

She gave him a look as if he thought she were stupid, "Right, my sister made you, if you truly feared her why didn't you tell someone. I could have handled her if no one else could."

A smaller voice came from behind, "Because I would kill him before you could stop me!"

Turning Meuze saw the carved wood of a black staff before her body went ridged under the electrical discharge from Nicollo's staff. Stars danced in her vision and she stumbled, reaching up for Nicollo but her hands missed, slipping of an unseen sphere of force. A second push of invisible force and she collapsed onto one of Yver's book shelves.

Her eyes lost focus as she tried to sit up, black tingling at the edges as Nicollo's voice taunted her from the shadows, "Not worthy of the name? When I'm done all people will know *is* my name."

Roog growled then let out a loud whine of pain as Meuze was struck by magic again, taking her into the darkness.

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Nicollo looked down on Meuze's body, her head shaking gently, "My poor sister, she tries so hard to do what's best for me." She brought a cloth covered foot up to kick Meuze in the face, drawing blood. "But always in my way."

Yver sat back, watching Meuze and Nicollo closely. If Meuze woke up, at least his story would be covered for now. Nicollo's eye's roved across the room, taking it in with unusual interest, finally coming to rest on him, her look cold and unnerving.

She smiled down to him, eyes focusing on the dwarf, "Gather our things, we have a ceremony to perform."

"But it's the middle of the day," Yver exclaimed looking up to her, "We can't do it now, we would get caught!"

Nicollo's smile dropped to an expression of displeasure, "And do you think Meuze is going to let you just do what you want?"

His eyes flicked to Meuze where she lay, he would rather face all of Midgard than this woman's anger. "You have a point, get the vials, I'll pack what we need from the supplies she brought us."

Nicollo nodded and headed off down the hall to the study, leaving Yver to gather his supplies. The dwarf's eyes glanced more than once to Meuze, checking to see her still unconscious. Roog's body had vanished when Meuze passed out but the old dwarf still didn't feel safe around her at all when either of them were angry, he had seen the damage they could do to things much meaner than he.

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Sitting against a large stone, Smilla listened to the house below her hill. Sounds inside were muffled, but she could have swore she heard magic a few minutes ago. When the door opened so did her eyes. Sounds of two running her way, a Dwarf and a Norse. Turning her head she watched them run past her, a few feet out. Had she wanted to she could have tripped them with her spear.

Nicollo lead Yver, who carried a pack that tinkled with the music of glass on glass. Meuze didn't follow though, and the two ran as if they feared for their lives. With a raised eye brow, Smilla stood, stepping from the shadows. She called on the blessings of Skadi and summoned her pup. "Mr. Puddles, check the house for Meuze"

The wolf looked up to her before darting off for the house. She watched him go as she knocked and drew an arrow. She let it fly to land at the back step of Yver's house, she did the same to leave an arrow by her stone. Looking after Nicollo and Yver, she called on the blessings of Skadi again, and speed after the two, leaving arrows in her trail.

Mr. Puddles romped into Yver's home, nails on his paws clicking against the wood of his floors. He sniffed around the kitchen, finding his way to the den where Meuze lay. The pup eyed her, a woman he knew, though she was normally more lively than this. The pup whimpered as he climbed up on her body to lick at her face.

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Nicollo tore a path through the underbrush, kicking aside small rock crabs and large ants that hid in the cool shade. Yver stumbled after her, careful with the packs but keeping pace. The two made for the entrance of Raumark, passing patrols of Blodfelag, giving them a wide birth to avoid trouble with Yver that might have slowed them down.

The only person that saw them enter the frozen wastes of Raumark was Smilla, who tailed them wide behind, making up time she had lost by cutting through the lands of the Blodfelag, the people of her family. Mr. Puddles found his way back to her side, tongue lolling out, blood on his muzzle. The huntress looked down to him only breafly before sending the pup back to Skadi's side. Right now she had to stay with Nicollo or risk loosing the girl, which seemed like a bad idea now. The blood smelled like Meuze's and that was bad news.

Stopping breafly, Nicollo let Yver catch is breath at the entrance of Raumark, before turning to her right and leaving the entrance behind. The dwarf picked up pace and followed her into a small clearing where she stopped. The river lay close to them, gurgling as it passed under a layer of ice.

"Start it, now." Nicollo demanded as she turned back to face Yver while removing her clothing. She left herself standing with only a thin long shirt on that reached down to just below her knees. It was made of a fine silk and shimmered a pure white in the glare from the snow.

Yver looked to her as she undressed, feeling warmer and warmer as she removed layers of cloth. "Y... yes Nicollo."

"And stop looking at me like that, I'm not striping to give you a show, get to work!" She snapped at him while starting to draw her own Runes in the snow with a finger. "First my sister tries to hold me back by treating me like a fool, and now you're bumbling and trying to look up my skirt every time I turn around. Why is it so hard to get good help in this realm!?"

Smilla caught up with them, her breathing fast, but she slowed it taking long deep breaths as she focused on what was going on with the two in the clearing. Watching, she saw the two working together and knocked an arrow, ready to be used if she needed it.

Yver followed behind Nicollo, pouring the contents of each vile into it's own Rune. Ground Arachite arm, blood from a Jotun tooth, furs of the Werewolf king, moss off of a Hero's antler, and drained eye of a highlander female.

"It's ready..." Yver sighed, relief and eagerness lining his voice. "Are you ready to start, Nicollo?"

The young Norsewoman shot Yver a disgusted look, "Of course, move."

The dwarf stepped back from the ring of Runes and waited, soon she would be done and all would be right to finish his plans.

Nicollo began to chant, tracing each rune in the air as she spoke. With each rune drawn the symbol began to glow, and the contents of each lifted to mix above her head. When all of the runes were completed, the liquids mixed above her, then filtered down in a green cloud, staining the silk and making it stick to her body.

Yver uncorked and tossed vials one at a time into the circle that changed the color of the stain as he added them. With the last vial added, he began to chant his own as the stain glowed a bright green.

Bones popped and Nicollo doubled over in pain, almost falling. A second popping and she did fall to her knees, elbows in holding her sides. Her skin began to rip as did her clothing and blood colored the snow. She lay face down in the snow, knees and arms pulled up under her from the pain.

Yells of pain as her rib cage broke, splitting open to rend the flesh and silk. Nicollo's eyes watched her organs split onto the ground. Dark red blood splashed on the white snow melting it with the heat as she gasp for air. Magic kept her mind alive to feel the pain and see the sight of organs melding into one larger mass.

Bones liquefied and pooled, she pulled a final gasped of air as her lungs joined the pool of organs that slipped to the writhing pile of life. Eyes watched the bubble break and red stained bones fall rattling to the ground, reaching trying to crawl free of the sack that had so recently been created and held them. Two masses from the one, skinless growing skin as the magic worked, building up from bone to organs, then muscle. 

When Yver stopped his chanting two naked bodies lay in the circle, differences in build and face were slight but present as the Elvin face lifted to smile at Yver, pointed ears red with birth. A Norse face looked up from the snow first to the bloody empty husk of her old body then to the elfin body next to her.

Yver's face formed a grin as the Elvin side of Nicolo spoke while standing, nude body steaming slightly in the cold. "Hello Norse me, we're about to be famous. Norse magic through Elvin veins to kill another Norse."

The Norse looked to to her Elvin counter part, a mirror of herself with a more slender trim. "I let you do this...."

The elf laughed, "Yes, you did. And now you will be known as the first to die under Midgard's Elvin ruler."

Smilla listened to this point, and then stepped from her tree, letting her arrow fly for the elf. Her arrow flew true, only to stop and shatter in mid flight as it reached the ring of Runes around the two. A large silver bubble shimmered in the light, not breaking but kicking back the snow where it vibrated.

The Elvin Nicollo slowly looked up to meet Smilla's eyes; eyelids opening slowly, a sly grin on her face as she looked down on the huntress. Lips pulled back in her grin to show perfect white teeth as the smirk grew to a full smile, brows dropping to a slight V.


---------------------------------


Smilla dropped into a crouch, pulling an arrow from her quiver as she dove back behind the tree she had stepped out from behind. The Elvin Nicollo gestured in the woman's direction, dismissing her almost. Energy crackled, white bands forming in the air as the magic snaked out to snap at the tree like a whip. It wrapped around the thick trunk, gripping it tight. Bark tore away letting the magic bite into the wood of the tree itself.

The magic snapped in the air, a sound of thunder as the tree snapped at the point of impact, charred through. Smilla showed herself again tucking low from behind the tree. She jumped parallel to the ground, letting her arrow fly free, draw hand dropping quickly to push her body up into a cartwheel. As she flipped she quickly drew a second arrow and knocked it. Feet touching the ground she leapt in the direction her momentum carried her as the second arrow set flight.

Nicollo watched the woman's acrobatics and arrows with bored interest. The first arrow impacted the bubble, the second not far behind, both shattering on impact. Nicollo's hand lashed out angry this time at missing with her first spell. The falling tree dropped in front of Smilla as the woman landed, feet sliding in the snow under her as strong legs pounded to change her direction.

Magic split the tree with an ear-rupturing surge of power that sent splinters flying. The bubble shimmered lightly as it protected the Elf, Yver ducked lower to the ground, covering his eyes as wood cut into his skin. Smilla ran along the length of the tree, another arrow drawn and knocked. Her pup rounded the burnt tree stump before she did, paws ripping up the snow behind it. The arrow flew above his head as he leapt at the elf, a deep growl in his body.

Smilla dropped her bow, bringing her spear to bear before the arrow even hit. It to shattered on the bubble as Smilla was bringing the spear over head. It slammed into the silver bubble of protection and slid off to the side. The Elvin Nicollo laughed at Smilla as she lashed her hand out again, wrapping the magic around the Norsewoman's body.

Screams filled the valley as Smilla dropped to her knees, armor ripping with the energy that was poured into the spell. "You idiot, only I can go in and out of my magic. Your kind are too stupid to realize even simple things like this, and that is why you have such pathetic grip on what powers your magical gods really offer up to you."

Smells of burnt wood, leather, metal and skin began to fill the air with Smilla's slowly lowering sounds. The Norsewoman fell to her side, arms pined in the magic's grip. If not for her armor's magic qualities she would be dead already, and part of her mind wondered if that would be such a bad thing, if nothing else than to end the pain. But she knew that wouldn't be an honorable death, so still she struggled to fight back. Here eyes opened past the pain and hope rose at what she saw. The Norse Nicollo stood now, with a growing anger on her face, the kind Smilla had only seen on Meuze, and rarely at that.

"You know," pondered the Elf aloud, "I think I'll kill you first so my weak half can see what's going to happen to he...” The elf turned then, and saw what was coming.

Nicollo's fist was drawn back, blue arcs of energy across the knuckles that danced down her arm. "Yeah, I can go in and out of *my* magic, bitch."

Her fist swung, a mean right hook coming around to catch the elf under the ribs, twisting as she dug her hand into the soft skin. Magic tingled on her body, burning flesh smelling stronger as she brought her hand back and knee up to meet the Elf's face.

The magic on Smilla weakened then faded as the elf stumbled back, a dark scorch mark on her torso. Blood ran freely from her nose that was crooked, a sign that Nicollo had broken it. The elf stumbled backwards, her bubble bumping Smilla and pushing the woman along the snow.

The huntress stood, her left arm refusing to move she looked around the clearing for a place to get out of the way, this was clearly a fight between the two... well, the Nicollos. Blue sparks flickered around the Elvin half and her wounds healed. Eyes darted to Yver who was drawing symbols in the air, SMilla lips lifted in a snarl and her pup stepped from Valhalla to her side. Her unbroken arm lifted to point to the dwarf and Mr. Puddles ran towards him, eager for food.

Nicollo eyed the elf as her body healed, not turning toward the dwarf when screams and the sound of his armor ripping filled the air. The elf's face grew grim at the sounds but she didn't stop watching Nicollo's movements.

Quiet filled the valley, only the sounds of near by water disturbing the scene. Two Nicollos, one pure Elvin, one pure Norse stood nude, body's red from the heat of their recent birth and exertion. Smilla crept slowly back to clear their room, and Yver's dead body steaming in the snow as blood spread in a pool around him.

The elf began movement first, her hand coming up to draw a Rune in the air. It burned a bright red then fizzled, shading out through purple to blue then vanishing with a wet crackle of energy. Nicollo stood with her hand where it had been when she drew her own Rune; a mirror copy of the Rune the elf had drawn, done in reverse to unravel the magic as it was created.

The elf quickly drew another Rune that burnt strong as Nicollo raced to counter it with the reversed Rune. Magic unraveled with a wet crackle again. Using both hands the Elvin Nicollo began to trace runes quickly, any Runes. Each of them met the same fate as those before being canceled out as the true Nicollo undid her own magic.

Eyes met and locked, still returning over the valley while the two stared each other down. They stood, motionless there in the snow, their bodies slowly growing cold as the sun lowered itself behind the trees.
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Meuze ran along quietly behind her guild mates, thoughts elsewhere as her eyes blurred and mind numbed, one foot in front of the other to keep up. She had awoken to Smilla's avatar licking her face, the pup's breath warm and moist. That with the splitting headache she had made her stomach churn and it had been tumbling ever since.

The dark armor Thuak wore began to make him blend in with the realm guards that ran with Cliff, so Meuze focused on their run. Part of her mind told her Cliff was lying to her, and still that would explain Nicollo's ability to use magic so well, even though the family had no history of magic use. She still didn't want to believe it. Eyes roved to the backs of the two Realm guards that ran with them then to Thuak and Cliff's backs. Sanger ran behind with Jeswyn at his side.

They could kill the realm guards, if they needed to save her sister... But what would that accomplish, the death of two warriors to save one, have themselves labeled as traitors. All to save her sister, her sister who turned at the chance to bring more power to herself... 

They followed the trail of Arrows Smilla had left for them, and Meuze mulled over what she would do when they found her sister, if they found her...

Dark settled on the land and the entrance of Raumark glowed in the darkness, magical light flickering just past the ruined fort. Roog whimpered at her side as the group slowed and Cliff began to give orders.

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Runes flared, in the air as Nicollo's hand traced them, her open hand swinging toward the elf. Elfin fingers traced runes in reverse as she stepped in to deliver a blow of her own, palm coming up to strike under Nicollo's chin.

Nicollo grunted, her head snapping back, right hand slapping inward against the ribs and side of the elf's breast. Fingers quickly traced a rune on skin; runes that stuck and made fire flare, dancing around to the spine of the elf.

Falling to the ground the elfin Nicollo rolled on her back to extinguish the flames. Snow flew as her hands came from the ground, concealing the runes she traced from Nicollo's vision until they were complete. A bolt of blue fired from between slender hands, not guided to well, but good enough to strike Nicollo's leg, knocking her on her face when she fell.

The cold snow and cooling night air bit into their skin, making them shiver from cold even though they were moving to keep themselves warm. Skin prickled and drew tight as Nicollo pulled in a breath of air that was knocked out of her. Her vision blurred as a foot connected with her head.

Reaching up she grabbed, digging fingers into soft sensitive flesh and hair. Nicollo twisted, rolling over to pin the elf under her, holding her torso to the ground. Fingers twisted, tracing another spell against skin making sparks dance along the edges of the elf's body.

"Yeah, weak elf bodies," Nicollo leered down to the fragile elf under her, "Can't even lift much more than your own weight! Ha!"

Twisting the Elf Nicollo slipped her leg up to wrap around the true Nicollo's body, squeezing her tight as the bony head came up to smack against lips and teeth, leaving the true Nicollo with a bloodied mouth. She rolled free, hand coming to her mouth to feel aching lips.

The Elfin Nicollo sat up quickly, tossing snow up with one hand, tracking a rune with the other, trying to recreate the shield like she had done earlier. Nicollo braced herself, looking around for quick cover, her eyes went wide and she dropped to the ground, hand above her head.

A catapult stone bounced off the Elfin Nicollo's bubble, shattering and sending the elf woman off balance, knocking her from sitting to lying on her back. Smilla stood next to Cliff who was loading another stone.

Nicollo lifted her head to see the elf slowly sitting up, shaking a bit under the impact on her magic. Fingers twisted in the snow itself, tracing the runes of protection backwards. Her own bubble dropped, as did the elf's, shimmering silver flickering in the night air as magic died. Elfin eyes grew wide as she began to trace the protection runes again.

Nicollo reversed; tracing them faster in the snow than the elf could create. Cliff roared, a sound that shook the hills as he fired the second stone. Nicollo looked to her Elvin half, whispering to her, "My magic." Then the world went red, hot, burning flesh and bone then darkness.

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Nicollo's first sense of life again was the blackness behind her eyelids, which she slowly opened to the room. A strong wooden beam above was lined with her clothes, cleaned, and freshly dyed. Her bed was soft and warm, the fireplace going low, but still strong enough to warm her room. She sat up to look around herself, heavy blankets falling from her body to leave her exposed to the edge of chill that the room held.

Skin prickled as the biting cold of snow and the night wind tickled at her bones and sensitive skin in memory. Dexterous fingers lifted to her lips, where they had been split. Sounds in the next room filtered through the wall as Nicollo looked around her once more before dropping back on the bed, pulling the covers up to her chin and lay there.

She felt different, not in any one specific way, but different. Her body felt so new and fresh and... clean. Rolling onto her side, long red hair fell across her face. It burned a pure blood color that drew the attention of her eyes; she looked down to it. She had always had a dirty red colored hair, unlike Meuze's. She had always wanted Meuze's hair.

Eye's closed as she thought to herself, she had wanted a lot of things Meuze had; the friends, the skills, the strength... the people that loved her. Her eyes watered and she felt close to crying. The door to her room opened, sounds of the guild hall filtering through. Cliff's humming as the grind of his sharpening stone crossed metal, Sanger and Jeswyn chattering with Xerophe and Veomoth. Verijaa's quiet voice talking to Thuak, who was quiet except the occasional chuckle or word.

Soft footsteps padded in, closing the door behind them. The foot steps sat on the edge of Nicollo's bed, a hand coming up to brush the red strands of hair from the young woman's face. A warm hand rested against her soft cheek, a soft feminine touch that Nicollo relaxed under, letting out a shuddering breath, tears streaking out from her eyes.

"It's okay hon," Meuze whispered, her hand brushing Nicollo's cheek again. "How are you feeling?"

Nicollo sniffled, her voice shaking when she spoke, "Wh... What's going to happen to me?"

Meuze was quiet, her thumb brushing along the side of Nicollo's temples, "Nothing, Yver's spell split the elf blood out of you, the Realm Guard took what was left of the elf for proof."

Her breath shook as she breathed a sigh to speak, "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry...” her eyes teared up again and she cried openly, curling up against Meuze's leg. She cried till tears felt dry, her throat hurt from the crying and she had to stop to breath.

Meuze's fingers ran through Nicollo's long red hair, undoing tangles gently as she went. Nicollo slowed her breathing, relaxing under Meuze's touch. "Tell me about my parents..." she asked, voice still shaking.

A deep sigh rolled from Meuze and her hand slowed, "When mother gave birth to you she offered herself up in exchange for your life. Father tried to stop the Guard from taking her away, and they had to kill him."

Nicollo shook her head, "No, tell me about them, I never knew them."

Meuze smiled down to Nicollo and began to tell her about her parents, about how they taught her the ways of the huntress, how they fought for the realm, and how they earned the respect of the gods to find their way into Valhalla.