◄ Kiirion Ayair Faelar ►
No one was happy. Besides maybe Thorik, who seemed oddly entertained by the tension between those in the group - as if it were amusing. The idea of them all getting along and being best friends was a blatant and unrealistic fantasy, but for some reason, he found that somewhere inside his mind that remained his one naive expectation.
It irked him. But it was inconsequential to their mission, provided he didn't hold to it and stubbornly kept hold of the bitter cynicism he was so proud of.
He turned to watch as Ésmaril walked off with Sagaree and Savitri. Though he was tempted to keep close tabs on Savitri because of her reluctance to bow to his voted in leadership, he didn't want to show any insecurities in his authority by keeping a tight leash on the one person who'd so strongly opposed him.
All in all, he was conflicted. He wanted them to respect him like they ought to, but for whatever petty reasons, several of them seemed to be almost resentful of his place in the group. The healer as the leader? When has that ever gone well? A leader leads the army into battle. They don't run around, waiting for someone on their team to get wounded just to heal them. What are you thinking Kiirion? Is this how you want to carry on our family legacy? As a doctor who doesn't know his pla-
Suddenly his thoughts were hijacked by the voice of his mother.
That was unsavory.
Kiirion closed his eyes for a brief second before turning to the remaining group as he secured his horse to the tree.
"So, we'll set up camp, shall we?" He said with a nod to Melvix and Willow, who had begun busying themselves with doing just that. They only nodded in affirmation. Their silence, however, irked him. As were many things, apparently.
Then there was a voice from below.
"We're getting firewood," Thorik said with what Kiirion could swear was a smirk beneath his thick beard. Kiirion looked down at the dwarf, realizing that with all of his new companions, he was going to have to repeatedly heal his own neck for how often he would have to crane if just to see their faces properly. Another downside to working with dwarves and humans.
"Yes. That we are. I only meant 'we' as in, we are all working together to accomplish the task by each doing what is necessary," Kiirion explained - though as a needless defense. Thorik's question might've been merely a sassy and innocent comment, but Kiirion had failed to interpret it that way.
Thorik lowered his head once the word 'yes' had left Kiirion's mouth. It seemed the neck issue was not one sided. He swung his axe over his shoulder, and raised an eyebrow at Kiirion. "I chop, you carry?"
Kiirion nodded politely, finding his usual contrived smile appearing on his face. "That sounds like a fine plan, so let's get going. We're losing daylight."
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"Who's there?" Ésmaril demanded.
Her question was met by silence, as the shuffling that once made the noise from the bushes was stilled in an instant. Sagaree and Savitri slowly approached behind Ésmaril on either side of her, with Sagaree gripping his staff and Savirti sniffing the air to detect what it was.
More silence.
"It's only a-" Savitri started.
A small doe darted out of the bushes, with its fluffly white tail bobbing behind it.
"-deer," Ésmaril said with a sigh and a small smile, feeling a little silly for almost interrogating a deer. But as the deer ran up to them, suddenly a very dark presence was felt, and the deer, while in motion, shifted from it's small, fluffy form into an inky, black imp. It sprouted scraggly wings and several horns running down its back, and it was still running - straight for Savitri.
Savitri bared her teeth, ready to leap at the evil creature, but before it could reach her an arrow ran through its small body.
Ésmaril stood with her bow in hand, and her eyes on the hit target. Savitri slowly shrunk down, seeing the threat fallen, letting out small wheezes as last breaths.
"...If there's one imp, there's probably more," Ésmaril stated, returning her eyes to the forest around them, searching for any others. "These things usually travel in packs."
Sagaree looked at Ésmaril curiously. "How do you know so much about these Otherworldly beings?"
Ésmaril flipped her head back around to him, a small grin on her lips. "Stories, Sagaree. The story runs in my ancestors' blood. Of course I did some reading on it."
Sagaree only gave a small pout-like shrug of his mouth.
"This one," Savitri spoke up, looking down at the dying imp rasping for breath under the trap of her paw. "Does he speak? Can we get answers from him?"
Sagaree and Ésmaril both looked down at the imp. If the imp could speak, it didn't have long.
"I... don't know if imps can talk," Ésmaril pondered quietly. Savitri, however, took it as license to find out.
"Speak, inkthing," Savitri ordered.
The imp's neck quivered, and its form changed again to that of a young deer, though of course, it was still bleeding.
"Yo͜u're̸ a҉ĺl......" the imp began in a voice deeper than seemed fitting for such a small creature, pausing a great while before continuing. "Y͜oú'r̡e͠ a͏ll ͝goìn̵g ̸t̶o̵ ͞d̸ie̢. ̸S̷ay͟ your̴ ͡ģo͢odb͝y̛es ̶n̵ow.͝..."
Then quiet, as the imp's voice breathlessly gave out and it fell limp beneath Savitri's paw.
The three all looked at one another, expecting one of them to comment on the imp's ominous, and factually useless, reply.
"I guess we should let the others know we're not alone out here?" Ésmaril finally asked.
"Immediately. If you think there may be more of these imps they could be tracking us, or they already know about us," Savitri nodded decisively.
Sagaree leaned in on his staff, looking at the queen and the elf inquisitively.
"Are we sure that this imp is with the Slyrinik?" He asked.
"Would you rather take the chance that it's not?" Savitri shot back.
Awkward silence.
Ésmaril cleared her throat. "Well, let's finish canvassing the area. Savitri, can you go back and tell the others about the threat?"
Savitri gave Ésmaril a look before she looked over to Sagaree. "Sagaree should be the messenger. I think I will be more useful out here."
Both pairs of eyes landed on Sagaree. Not looking to argue, Sagaree bowed his head slightly. "...Of course," he said simply, before ducking away under a tree, back to camp.
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Wood chips flew in every direction as Thorik hacked away at a fallen tree's branches. Kiirion stood to the side, watching the sturdy dwarf at work. Thorik held up another long branch, and threw it to Kiirion.
Kiirion, with his arms already mostly full, extended a hand while cradling the other chunks of firewood in his arm. Despite the dramatic height difference, Thorik had consistently managed to throw the chopped wood over his head. Kiirion caught it with a grunt.
"Throwing them that high is hardly necessary," Kiirion quipped.
"Maybe," Thorik grunted as he swung his axe into another unfortunate piece of plant life. "I'm only using your ears as goalposts. Makes it easier to aim."
Kiirion's eye twitched. Thorik's lips curved into another smirk.
"Oh, calm your elven locks, Kiirion," Thorik laughed heartily. "You're looking like I just insulted your mother! It's only a joke. Just trying to lighten the mood."
"Your dwarven humor fails to -" Kiirion started, before he was stopped by another chunk of firewood chucked at his face. He ducked.
Thorik chuckled again, but this time more to himself as he watched Kiirion simply stare back at him with a neutral expression.
"We have enough firewood. Let's head back," Kiirion said.
Thorik stepped past him, picking up the fallen piece Kiirion had missed. "Agreed."
As they turned to make their way back to the camp, they saw a familiar figure heading their way with haste. It was Sagaree - which seemed oddly out of character. Kiirion had not pinned his archetype as a messenger. But a lone wolf, yes.
"Is something amiss, Sagaree?" Kiirion called out.
Sagaree slowed, but still made his approach. "We found an imp in the forest. We believe it's some kind of spy or scout from their side. Ésmaril said if there's one, there are probably more."
Kiirion locked eyes with Sagaree, and looked about the forest. Imps?
"Then we'll have to keep-
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-a lookout for them. It looks like they can shape-shift, so things might not be what they seem," Ésmaril explained to Savitri, as they finished checking the area.
"For now, the coast looks clear," Savitri replied.
"Looks clear, yes..." Ésmaril sighed.
Savitri tilted her head as she looked up at Ésmaril. Though she understood the desire to find whatever else was lurking out here, she knew they'd face it best as a group. "We should be headed back."
"Yes. I suppose so."
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