Shaon's Tale, Part III

[Sochi]

Eiskal

“And so I flung the canvas over the cat and then tackled him. I’m not sure who was more shocked, Ramas or myself.” Shaon laughed at the memory.
Eiskal Breakdeath raised one slender eyebrow at the laughing hunter. He was trying very hard not to laugh with her. “Truly an unorthodox method of beginning a tame, Shaon, from what I have heard of hunter tactics.” The laughter finally broke free as he asked, “What will you try next time, the old box trap method?”
Shaon laughed harder at that idea, Eiskal joining in. Neither cared that the barkeep shot them an odd look. A hunter and a deathknight, sharing drinks in the late hours of the night. It should have been an odd sight, but then, things in Azeroth hadn’t been normal for a long while.
The hunter eyed her mug. For an elf with such a slim build, she held her ale well. Eiskal leaned back in his chair, appraising her. He had known Shaon for a long time, had been friends with her older brother, Shalindor. According to Shaon, Shal had gone off to fight, had left home almost a year ago. He had completed his training as a paladin and had gone to fight the Scourge. Eiskal remembered that day, he had completed his own training then, too. But he had not gone with Shal. His path had led him to other places and ends. When there had been no word of her sibling after several months, Shaon had gone to train as a Farstrider. She was now a green, but fully fledged, Hunter.
In what he called his first life, Eiskal Breakdawn had been a warrior. He had been, was still, a very fine swordsman. He’d gone to join the Argent Dawn to help in the battle against the Scourge. His path had taken him to Northrend and the end of his first life at the hands of the Lich King. He wasn’t bitter over his new life, his second existence. Though ressurected as a death knight and returning to a half life, a puppet whose strings where pulled by Arthas, he’d fought for his new existence as hard as had fought in his first. Though horrified at first, he’d soon come to the realization that even though he was no long alive as he had been, he had a life of sorts. If he could break free of the Lich King’s control, he could return to his world, and turn his sword against Arthas.
He had done that. He was free and had found himself again. He took the name Breakdeath, for he had gone beyond and had returned. His new life as a deathknight hadn’t broken his spirit, he found that he wasn’t so much changed. He still had his sharp wit and his humor.
He had returned to Silvermoon, to find what had befallen those he’d known before. Some folks were very happy to see him and others took a while to accept him as a deathknight, a former fighter for the Scourge. He had come to Silvermoon hoping to find a certain aquaintance and had found her where had thought he would, in Farstrider Square, winging arrows at a target and directing a large black leopard to the chosen target with a series of whistles. He watched her for a few moments, before dismounting his ‘charger. Reed slender, she seemed a little taller than the last time he’d seen her. Her skill with a bow had improved, though she had always been an excellent shot. Her hair was the color of a raven’s feather, just as he remembered it.
Hearing her name called, she had turned to him and had almost dropped her bow. She was startled and for a long moment, she had only looked at him. Eiskal was used to these reactions now and merely waited it out. Shaon approached him slowly, her cat by her side. Looking him in the eyes, she reached up one slender hand and touched his cheek. Assured that he was real, she flung her arms around him and hugged him tight. After a moment, he put his arms about her, returning the hug. Shaon had invited him to the inn where she was staying, to have a drink and catch up.
Eiskal found that she still had that ready smile and quick wit, but she was a little more tempered now, like a blade fresh from the forge but one that had seen action. Her chosen companion, Ramas, was a very fine cat. Young himself, he was full of the strength of the young and hard muscles rippled under his dark coat. He had eyed Eiskal warily at first, but with his mistress calm and even happy to see this stranger, he had relaxed and now dozed at her feet. But Eiskal sensed the cat’s readiness to spring into action and defend his mistress. Shaon had truly grown since last he had seen her. She was a young hunter with her first companion. And she was talking about getting her second.
“A bear. I have heard they are marvelous in a fight.”
Eiskal made a thoughtful sound. “Bears are not common creatures in the lands of the Horde, you may have to travel far. Perhaps even as far as those lands claimed by the dwarves.”
“Dwarves have no love for blood elves.” Shaon took up the near empty pitcher and poured a small measure more into her mug. “And I do not fancy sneaking into Dun Morogh through the spirit world again. I hear that too many trips to that inbetween place can drain a person’s spirit.”
Eiskal had to resist the urge to reach out and touch her hand. The thought of her crossing into Death pained him in a way that he could not describe. He could still feel the line her form against his chest where she had hugged him. “I would rather you not, either,” he said, wishing he could say more.
Shaon nodded. “I am not sure I am ready to take a second companion any way. But there is a thing I must do. I was speaking with your friend and she told me a place to test myself in. I am bound for Silverpine forest.”
Eiskal blinked. “That is a rather dark wood.” Full of worgen and scourge and other dangers I would prefer you not face alone.
“Dark, yes. But a place I would test my mettle in.”
“I will go with you,”
Shaon shook her head, but she smiled at him. “No, Eiskal, this is something I have to do alone. Hunters must not only depend on the abilities of their companions,” she said, reaching down to run a hand along Ramas’ back causing the large cat to rumble a deep purr. “But we must also depend on ourselves. If we are without a companion and find ourselves in a fight, we must know what we are capable of. I will walk Silverpine alone and test myself there.” She turned her face up to him, grinning. “Though if you are bored here in Silvermoon, you are welcome to come as far as Brill with me.”
Eiskal allowed himself to breathe again, surprised that he had been holding it. “Done. As far as Brill,” he agreed. But should any harm befall you there, I will raze that wood to the ground. He took a last swallow of ale. Shaon started laying her plans out, detailing supplies and other things. While she spoke of buying some more arrows, Eiskal wondered if he had time to seek out and speak with Sochi Graymorning, the hunter who had put these ideas in Shaon’s head. He had some words for that hunter.

[Sochi]

The Bear

“A hunter should be one with a companion, whether they have but one or more that they call friend. They are hunters together. But a hunter should not forget themselves, nor should they forget the Wild. For the wild is where we hunt, where we are at our best.”

Brill was a small town just to the north of old Lordaeron. Shaon paused at the start of its very short main street. The town was full of Forsaken, the undead going about their business as they would have in life. An undead rider on an equally undead horse trotted up the road and away, a Deathguard going about business. She saw a blacksmith, a town hall, a stables that probably housed more skeleton horses, and a few small residences. Townsfolk were trading, crafting, and doing what was needed to survive.
With Ramas padding at her side and Eiskal along with her, she stepped into The Gallow’s End. Shaon found she didn’t much care for the tavern’s name, but it was the only inn in town and she did not yet fancy a stay in Undercity itself. The Forsaken in Brill were unnerving enough and though Shaon knew that they were part of the Horde they were a hard folk to get used to. It wasn’t exactly pleasant holding conversation with a person when their femurs were showing, a bit of ribcage was in full view, or they were missing a good chunk of their face, or really didn’t have much of a face, just a leather mask.
To her relief, the inn was rather normal. It had a small common room with a roaring fire in the hearth. There were chairs and tables, a few nicknacks on the mantel and the noises one finds in a tavern. It had a bar near the back, a kitchen behind that and stairway that must have lead to rooms upstairs.
The only downside was the clientel, of which most were locals. Two Forsaken men, Deathguards by the uniforms, had a table to themselves. They were drinking a misty looking liquid out of small cups and there was a pitcher of whatever sort of drink it was on the table between them. She spotted a few folk who had to be travelers or adventurers. There were two goblins at one table, an abacus between them, their voices low as they tallied something. In a far corner, his massive hands wrapped around a large bowl of something, was a tauren. He had his back to the wall and was sitting on the floor. Shaon guessed that given his size, the usual mugs were too small and the chairs not built to take a tauren’s weight.
He saw her looking and nodded his head once before his eyes flicked to her tall armor-clad companion.
She returned the nod and started towards the bar. On her way, she spotted the only other non-Forsaken here, a blood elf. He was sitting by the fire, hunched over a map on a table. A graphite stick was in one hand and the other was holding his chin. He was very absorbed in his work and Shaon let him be.
The barkeep greeted them cordially and they inquired after rooms. He had them sign a ledger, put half the money down and then handed each a key. They ordered food and drink and took a table off to the side. The forsaken woman brought her food on a tray. There was a large platter of sliced meat, vegetables, and roasted potatoes. A pitcher held frothy ale that was cold from the cellar. Shaon fed Ramas some of the meat and tucked into her dinner. Eiskal ate, but his eyes never left the room. He seemed distracted since leaving Silvermoon and had only gotten more so the closer they had come to Brill. Shaon didn’t ask him what was wrong and he spoke nothing of it either.
Tonight she would rest, tomorrow she would seek out some information and then head into Silverpine Forest. For now, she would relax and enjoy herself. Eiskal might be worried about her, but Shaon knew how to handle herself on her own. She found his worry just a little odd. He’d never bothered before, had even teased her a little. He’d been Shal’s friend, and she thought, her friend too, back when they had been younger. But it wasn’t like him at all to fret over her. What had changed? She mentally shrugged and pushed the matter aside for another time.
Dinner done, Eiskal ordered another pitcher of ale, this one stronger. Shaon had one glass of it and found it too much. Eiskal drank the rest and seemed to perk up a little.
They each retired to their rooms that night, Shaon to check her gear one final time and spend a little time caring for Ramas. She checked the cat’s condition from head to tail, brushing his coat and soothing him with soft words. She then readied for bed and fell into sleep. Across the hall, Eiskal paced. He was agitated and he only half knew why. He cursed his inabiltity to say the things he had wanted to say and cursed what he had said instead. He debated following her, staying behind and unseen. But if she found him out, she’d never forgive him his trespass on her. When he removed his armor and lay down in his underclothes, it was a long time before sleep found the deathknight.

“I wouldn’t be travelling in there, alone, and with night coming, girl.” The Forsaken’s voice was oddly deep for one with so sunken a chest. He stood with Shaon at the edge of Silverpine Forest. In one bony hand, the flesh tight around his fingers, he held a lantern. Its pool of warm light encircled both the blood elf and her temporary companion. The Forsaken was mostly whole, but his features were sunken and his skin dry like old leather. His nose was gone, leaving two holes where his nostrils still pulled in air with a slight rattle. His eyes were quite alive and burned from deep within their sockets like coals.
The sun was setting and there was a mist rising among the shaggy pines. There was no moon and it promised to be a dark night.
Shaon shook her head at the Forsaken. “Sorry, friend, I need to do this.”
He gave her a sidelong look, and probably would have spat could he have mustered up the saliva to do so. Instead he grumbled something about hunters. “Then stay to the road. There are worgs and worse in those trees, but they might not bother a body on the road. Might not.”
Shaon nodded. “The road, got it.”
He cast her another look, taking in her leathers, the axe slung across her back and the bow in her hand. He noted the number of arrows in her quiver, the dagger that balanced it at her belt, and the pouches. The silver caps on her taming rod caught his eye for a moment.
“Hunter, girl, where’s your pet this evening?”
It was Shaon’s turn to eye him. “Safely in the care of the Stablemaster. Why?”
The Forsaken shrugged bony shoulders. “I seldom see a hunter without a pet of some sort."
Shaon eyed the trees ahead. They seemed to loom as though by towering over her they could keep her out. She did not take her eyes off those dark trunks and branches as she said, “I was once told by a hunter that I hold in great respect that sometimes we have to lose ourselves to know ourselves. I had an, incident, and I thought I could handle myself, I could not. It shook me. I came here to settle myself, prove myself to myself. This forest unnerves me, it feels nothing of my homeland’s woods. Those trees welcome me, these trees would see me elsewhere. I would test myself in there and come out stronger.”
The Forsaken nodded. “I see, I see.” He opened the shutter on the lantern further, letting light spill forth against the deepening dark. He turned away, making ready to head down the road back towards the town of Brill, but he paused. “I have warned you of the danger in those trees, but the choice you make is yours.” Those live-coal eyes appraised her again. “Should you change your mind, I shall be at the tavern. They brew some fine spirits there.” A grin split his parchment dry lips, showing peg-like dessicated teeth. “And should you fall to the forest and the Dark Lady calls you to rise again, answer it. A fine thing like yourself shouldn’t go to waste.” And he started off, not waiting for Shaon’s reply.
She watched him go for a moment, open disgust on her face. As if she would ever take his “offer.” She turned back to the woods and the road. With the lantern’s light gone, the night was a lot closer. Shaon’s night vision was decent enough and so she lit no lantern of her own. It was true she had put Ramas with a Stablemaster. Her faithful cat had been confused as to why he was being left behind. But soothing words, some rubbing of ears, and a treat had persuaded him that a little time off would be all right. The Stablemaster, a Forsaken, had assured her that he would take prime care of Ramas. Shaon had no trouble believing him. Stablemasters the world over had a strict code, Ramas was in good hands.
Eiskal had bid her good-bye and had reminded her to be careful. He had not pressed her about letting him come along. But she read his uneasiness in his stance and in the tightness of his face. She had told him that she’d be fine. She put the thought of the look on his face as she’d started off down the road, the Forsaken called Grimroot at her side to show her the road. Now, with the woods before her, there was nothing else for it. Hitching up her backpack and resettling her axe, she started down the road and into the misty woods.

[Sochi]

The night had worn towards its midpoint when Shaon decided to stop for the night. These woods weren’t too bad, she thought moving carefully off the road to find a suitable camp. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she was being watched, though. But whether the unseen eyes belonged to night creatures or something far more dire, she wasn’t sure. Her eyes managed to pick out a jumble of rocks to shelter under. After investigating the small hollow for an occupant and finding it unoccupied, she made camp. The ritual of making camp was soothing and she could forget being watched for a little while. Clear a firering and gather wood, light the fire, set up shelter, brew tea. The fire was small and sheltered, Shaon didn’t feel like exposing herself.
By the time the tea had brewed and she had banked the fire down to glowing embers, Shaon felt a bit more at ease. It was getting a little chilly, but her leathers and cloak were warm. Out here, survival was what mattered and you could lose yourself to it. It felt good to depend on oneself.
Sipping her tea, bow close to hand, Shaon watched her surroundings, her ears keen on the sounds of the pines around her. Her fire was well fed and more wood was stacked close by. She had a wall of rock at her back and a clear view of all, so she wasn't too surprised when a large shape materialized out the darkness on the other side the fire and turned two glowing umber eyes her way.
Shaggy fur, dark in color, though whether black or deep brown she did not know, covered the rounded body. A bear. Eyes the color of ruddy sunlight glowed in the dark face like embers among coals.
Shaon tried not to make eye contact as she looked side-long at the bear. Her hand crept toward her bow and the single arrow she'd made ready, a move she made with as little motion as possible. She knew bears could be formidable and this one was a little too close. She did not wish to startle the creature into an attack.
Her hand had closed on the grip of the bow when the bear took another step forward and sat down. He yawned, showing more pointy teeth. His attention was fully on Shaon, his nose sniffed at her, his gaze was focused on her, and his ears were turned her way, though they did flick back and forth towards the forest now and again.
Shaon blinked. She had fully expected an attack. "So, inviting yourself into my camp, eh?" Shaon said outloud.
The bear tilted his head to one side and whuffed. Apparently, he was inviting himself. The bear had not made any other move, he looked directly at her. Bemused, Shaon slowly took up her backpack and without taking her attention off the bear, searched about the bag until she found the wrapped bundle of salted, dried venison.
The bear's nose sniffed interestedly at the air as the salted meat was unwrapped.
Holding up a piece of the meat, Shaon eyed her uninvited guest. "I guess that it would be unseemly of me not to offer you a snack, seeing as you are a guest at my fire, hmmm?"
The bear seemed to almost nod his shaggy head in agreement and he raised a paw and waved it at her. It was not a threatening action, more of a friendly wave. It was most unlike any bear she had encountered and she repressed a giggle. Shaon tossed the strip of meat to the bear, who only eyed it for a few long moments before snapping it up.
"There, can't say I was a bad hostess, now, can you?"
The bear licked his muzzle. Whuff!
Shaon tossed him another piece of the vension, the meat landing a farther away from him, a little closer to her side of the fire this time. The bear only hesitated for half the time before taking up the meat, moving closer to do so, only to move back to his original spot. As the bear moved, Shaon noticed that he was favoring his left foreleg, but could see no visible injury to the limb.
"Not bad for salted meat," said Shaon sniffing at a strip.
The bear looked at her, almost expectantly now.
"Not my uttermost favorite snack, mind you. Me, I like my venison roasted when I can get such." Slowly, she shifted her position from sitting to a crouch. "But you seem to really like this. Would you like another piece then, mate?"
And she held the meat out to the bear.
This time the bear eyed the meat and where it was in her hand. Shaon could see his bear-ish thoughts in his eyes. She knew full well that he wanted the meat. She was also coming to the conclusion that this was not the first time that this particular bear had come across a person. For a seemingly wild creature, he was too trusting of the two-legged being who had come into the pines. He had sat himself right down, when most would snarl and fight, or flee. Wild bears did not approach a camp fire. This bear had known a hunter once, maybe only a day ago, or maybe weeks ago. Shaon thought that he had been abandoned, returned to the wild.
"It's okay, mate. C'mon, take the meat." she said softly.
Wrruh. Slowly and a little stiffly, Shaon could see the pain in those umber eyes, the bear stepped forward to stand before her. From her crouch, Shaon had to look up a little to meet those eyes. The bear was young, his muzzle held no white, but it did have silvered hairs in among dark, giving it a grizzled look. The fur was a dark reddish brown otherwise. He was big, almost fully grown. With great care, as though very aware of the nearness of his fangs to her fingers, the bear carefully took the strip of meat from her hand and lay down before her before chewing on the vension.
Realizing that she had not taken a breath, Shaon breathed again and pulled her backpack over. Muttering softly, to herself and to the bear, Shaon examined the injured limb. She found a recent injury, a gash, under the fur. With water, soothing words, and some more meat to reassure and distract, she washed, salved, and bound the gash. The bear bore the treatment well and neither snapped nor snarled. Though once a soft growl did issue from his throat when Shaon had probed a particullarly tender bit and Shaon soothed him with soft words in Thallasian.
"There, mate. That should see you right." She stood and stretched, umber eyes watching her. The slender elf smiled at the bear. "You're not a bad sort, and you are welcome to share the fire the rest of the night. But me, I'm for bed." Shaon took to her bedroll with the certainty that the bear would leave her be and be gone before dawn. For his part, the bear settled himself opposite her and closed his eyes.

[Sochi]

Shaon startled awake, hand reaching for her bow, an arrow to string and half drawn before she was even on her feet. The bear was gone, but there was something on the other side of the dying fire. Yellow eyes glinted in the pre-dawn dark. Shaon counted, four, no five pairs. As her eyes adjusted, she could make out that they were worgen. They milled about beyond her fire until they had seen her come awake. Shaon suddenly regretted not bringing Ramas along.
One of the worgen, his wiry body covered in coarse fur, his forelimbs long and his fingers tipped with curved claws, took a hesitant step forward. He wore little more than a loincloth and around his neck was a leather cord strung with small animal skulls and teeth. He grinned toothily at her and snarled something in a tongue he did not know. Despite not understanding a word he said, Shaon caught his meaning loud and clear.
She raised her bow, drawing the arrow to full.
The worgen snarled and tensed, a howl splitting his muzzle.
Shaon let her arrow fly. With a harsh hiss, the arrow struck the worgen in the throat. The second, drawn as soon as the first was away, lodged itself in his chest. The worgen’s howl was chopped short with a gurgle and he fell in a heap.
There was a moment of shock among the remaining four worgen but they were over their leader’s death fast, springing towards Shaon with snarls curling their lips back. Shaon loosed two more arrows before dropping the bow and taking up her axe. One of her shots, took one leaping worgen through a hind leg, dropping him for a moment, the other arrow slew a second worgen outright, springing forth from one yellow eye like an odd flower. Two remained on their feet now.
Time seemed to thicken as Shaon tensed to meet the remaining two. The one she’d shot through the leg was trying to gain his feet again. She swung her axe and the two worgen had to dodge her slice. The feinted and dodged, trying to draw her out, away from the rocks. If they did that they could flank her. Shaon fought defensively, keeping her back to the rocks, using the two-handed axe to deflect their attacks. She lashed out with the blade, slashing at her foe, or stabbed at them with the mean spike on the end of the haft.
The worgen were quick and agile, they kept their distance and worked as a team. One would attack while the other leapt in, trying to surprise her. Shaon had to be quicker than them and she found herself tiring. There was a slash to her leg and another on her arm. The air was chill but there was sweat on her face and she could feel a trickle blood from the leg wound. In her vision’s edges, she could see the third worgen trying to pull out the arrow now. It had found it would have to push the shaft the rest of the way through. Shaon used barbed arrowheads, to pull it free would shred muscle and tendon. It was slow and painful work either way.
Wwwwrrraaaauuuuu!
Shaon and the two worgen all gave a start as something huge crashed into the wounded worgen, who left out a scream as the creature’s claws rent its chest apart. It was the bear she had met earlier, she could see the bandage around his leg. He must have been close and had come at the sound of battle. Claws bloodied, he turned from the slain worgen to the one’s attacking Shaon. Charging in with a roar, he crashed into one, huge jaws closing on the creature’s shoulder. Shaon lost no time and swung her axe, the blade biting into the worgen’s side in a fine spray of dark ichor. She felt ribs shatter under the impact. It crumpled like an empty sack. By the time she’d turned towards the last worgen, the bear had finished that foe, shaking the slain worgen like a rag doll once more before letting it fall.
The bear looked at her, expectently. Shaon let out a deep dreath and leaned on the haft of her weapon. She allowed herself to grin at the bear. “Thank you.”
Whuff.
“You were a hunter’s companion once, weren’t you?”
Whuff.
Shaon surmised that was a “yes”. She straightened and took a rag out of a belt pouch, after wiping her axe free of grume on a nearby bush, she cleaned it with the rag. Then she retrieved her arrows, pulling the shafts free and wiping them clean. The arrow in the bear-slain worgen’s leg was the last and thoughest to pull. She cared not what was torn when it was freed and she cleaned it like the rest before returning it to her quiver. The bear watched her work.
Her weapons cared for, she opened her waterskin and washed her hands and poured some water on her wounds. With salve from a jar found in another pouch, she applied the medicine to her hurts and bound arm and leg with clean bandages. From the same pouch the salve was returned to, she pulled a small vial and drank the contents, making a face at the taste. Then she turned to the bear. He was bloodied, but it looked like all the blood was from the worgen. But he had reopened the cut on his leg and so Shaon called to him softly and he ambled over to her and let her tend to it. This time, he bore her administrations with no grumbling or growling.
Shaon broke her camp then, not wanting to remain on a battleground. She emptied the remains of the waterskin over the fire, stirred it, then kicked dirt over it. An inspection of the worgen yielded up some coppers but nothing else worth keeping. She left the corpses where they lay. The bear followed her out and while she refilled the waterskin at a clear brook, he took to the chill water downstream and ducked himself under. After taking a deep drink, he moved to the bank and shook himself thoroughly. Shaon sighed at him and replaced the now wet bandage. The bear snuffled at her hair as she worked.
Shaon then started walking, heading north, back towards Brill. The bear followed her and put himself at her side as though he had always been there. It surprised her a little, but then, it was something he had done before. She wondered for a moment at the hunter who could give up so loyal a companion and laid a hand on the bear’s back. He grumbled good naturedly at her touch, leaning a little into it.
The sun was coming up when she stopped and turned to the bear at her side. Shaon considered for a moment that perhaps if she insisted, he would leave her. But her heart knew he wouldn’t. Looking him in the eye, she pulled the taming rod free of her belt. “I don’t know who your hunter was before you found my fire. I don’t why they would set you free. But I can see that you have no intention of leaving my side now, that you want to stay, “ she said.
The bear snuffled at her and licked her cheek. Whuff.
“I thought as much.” And Shaon gently laid the taming rod to his shoulder. The magic took them both and from hunter and bear there was no struggle, only acceptance. When the bond was forged, Shaon stood and the bear, now called Subek, a name meaning protector, stood with her. Together, they watched the sun climb a little higher and then started down the road.

[Sochi]

“Your pacing, it will wear a rut in the road, Deathknight. You’ve been at it since before dawn.”
Eiskal paused and looked at the Deathguard, who was at work saddling his bony steed. “I have a right to take a morning stroll,” Eiskal growled in reply.
“Then stroll, ‘knight, but do see more than just the start of the main road. The graveyard is lovely in the morning light, you know.” The Forsaken placed the saddle on the steed’s back and went about tightening straps and buckles.
Eiskal grunted and turned his eyes to the road again. Around him the village of Brill was waking up. Not far to the south, Undercity was probably stirring too, but the Deathknight didn’t care for any of it. His eyes were only for the road.
The saddle now in place, the Deathguard, Rimes by name, was inspecting his steed’s hooves. “The hunter, she will be fine, I think. Grimroot was surely exaggerating Silverpine’s dangers. He exaggerates about a lot of things.”
Grimroot was the Forsaken who had guided Shaon to the wood’s edge last night. Eiskal had watched them go and had watched Grimroot come back alone.
Rimes set a hoof down and moved on to another. “She your girl, Deathknight?”
Eiskal gave a start. “What?”
A bemused expression on his skeletal face, Rimes asked again, “The hunter? Is she your lady?”
The urge to turn on the Deathguard and punch the grin on his face off overcame Eiskal for all of a moment. How dare this Forsaken speak of such things to him! But it died quickly, the sudden heat cooling and dropping to the pit of his stomach in a sickly cold ball. “No, the Lady Shaon is not mine,” he said, his voice low.
Steed saddled and ready, the Forsaken brought the mount around and stood for a moment at Eiskal’s side. He studied the Deathknight for a moment. “No? Eh, that’s a pity, really. Very nice girl, she looks to be. I would not have let her go to Silverpine alone.”
“I did not want to let her go,”
Rimes cocked an eye at Eiskal. “We have no hunters among the Forsaken right now, though there is speculation that the Dark Lady would change that. With no hunters in the ranks, we do not fully understand the things they do, the way they think about themselves and their companions. But we do understand warriors, and sometimes they feel they need to do things on their own. Your lady went to do just that and when she comes out, she will be stronger for it and that, my friend, is something to be glad for.”
“I suppose,”
Deathguard Rimes mounted his steed. “My patrol will take me down that road. Should I see the lady, I shall make certain she is in no bad state. If she is,” he patted the vertebrae of his steed’s neck. “Femur will bear us both here swiftly and help will be found.”
Eiskal nodded his thanks and Rimes put bootheel to Femur’s sides. The undead mount and rider trotted off and the Deathknight remained. But only moments had passed since the Deathguard had gone when a horn’s blat sounded. In town, folks looked up, but the horn had not been to warn, but to call a welcome. And then Shaon rounded the bend in the road, a great bear ambling at one side and Rimes riding at the other. Eiskal felt his spirit leap and it took every ounce of will he had not to run forward, catch Shaon up and hold her close.
They paused, Rimes leaning down to point. Shaon looked toward Eiskal and Rimes straightened up and raised a horn to his dessicated lips to sound it once more. The he wheeled Femur and was off again.
For Eiskal, it seemed to take the hunter hours to come to the village’s edge, but it was only minutes. Shaon stopped before him and cocked her head to one side. “Please tell me you haven’t been waiting since last night, Eiskal.”
“Only since this morning, Shaon.” He replied, trying to look her over without seeming to. She looked all right, but his eyes found the leg wound and the rents in her leathers. He held his tongue on that matter for the moment. She was generally unhurt and seemed happy. “And who is this bear?”
“This is Subek. He has decided to join me as my second companion. We met last night, invited himself to dinner.” Shoan made introductions and Eiskal allowed Subek to sniff him and familiarize himself with the deathknight.
“There’s a tale here,” Eiskal said.
“Indeed, and I will tell you over breakfast,” she said, taking him by the arm and leading him back to the inn.
“We care for those wounds first, then we can eat.” Shaon nodded. Eiskal fetched a kit from his rooms and Shaon took to her rooms where she cleaned and rebandaged her hurts all of them minor and healing. She changed into clean leathers and joined a much more relieved Eiskal in the hall. They ordered breakfast and Shaon told him all about her night in Silverpine Forest.

End of Part Three

[Ketchaeatcha]

It be a good story (wo)mon... it flow good de forsaken be funny and it a logical conti...continu... follow up to de cat story.

Dat said de wall of text be de automatic crit, needs de spacing and/or de tab indent. Also be good to see a bit more o de bears personality. we know his back story but what he be like? Turn him from de place holder to an actual charcater. Do he steal food from ja bags? shed on ya clothing, have de sense of humor? give us a reason to be loving him.

Over all I give it a B wit de Cat storu being A-

[Saturo]

Aye, Wall of text hits for 27000 damage (Crushing Blow)

I'd love to see more of this, but, as da' troll said, tab indents might be nice. Are those doable on this forum?