Authors Note: This will be the last update for ten days or so, my college has a fall break that I intend to take full advantage of, starting next Wednesday, and since I have a test and a bloody long paper to write between now and then, I won't get around to uploading another chapter. That said, this chapter is the longest one so far to make up for this. Enjoy!

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Revelations

Shree yawns as she sits up in her bed, and thought, "My sleep last night was a fairly restful one, though it might have been better if Koravel had been sleeping—My goodness! Where did that thought come from?" She blushed, even though it was just a thought and no one could have heard it even if there had been anyone there to hear. She sets about getting dressed while mulling over things that were said or done the day before. Yesterday morning she was sitting, bored ridged, in an Inn she had practically started living in and this morning she was off to look for undead... with an aasimar, a merc, a teifling and a barbarian.

"Can things actually get any weirder?" She muses as she brushes and braids back her hip length blonde hair.

While she in front of the mirror she touches and inspects her missing ear-tip, which is now so obvious while not hidden under her hair, wondering if her chances with certain peoples around the Inn last night were going to be spoiled because of it, not that there was with anyone she had been talking to. Suddenly she runs from the mirror, dives for the ice cold bowl of water she had left on the side and submerges herself in it as punishment for being so vain... and for letting her mind wander into the 'naughty' uncharted territory of 'what ifs'.

Now dry and with her hair as loose as it was yesterday Shree ambles downstairs and orders breakfast, a bacon sandwich and a pint of milk. Sitting down at an empty table with her meal she keeps to herself and waits for the others.

Azrael is the first down the stairs, the aasimar had spent the night in prayer to Jergal. He hardly required any sleep. He said nothing to Shree at first, but went over to the counter and ordered some meat and a glass of water. After it arrived, he took the plate and the glass over to the table, and sat down opposite Shree. "I see you're already awake," he commented.

Shree is halfway through downing her milk and looks up, then quickly wipes away the milk mustache.

"I see you are too." She smiles, "As soon as I hit those pillows last night I was out like a light. I think it might have been the cider but... no worries. Anyway, I've been listening out for anything on nasties, people talk so loudly it's hard to miss it, but the commander or whatever, at the barracks behind the Inn here seems to think it wise to advise travelers to stay away from the road towards Amphail. More sightings, more missing peoples, ah you get the idea. Do you really think this could be your necromancers or are you simply here because of the undead? Either way, it doesn't matter, you're still here to help... or at least I hope you are. All we have to do is follow the road a half day further and we'll be at that cemetery I've mentioned. Never been in the thing, just walked past it on the odd occasion that I'm in this part of the world. Send me back to Athkatla and its sunshine... and warmth. Perhaps I'll go back some time."

She takes the last bite of her bacon sandwich before licking her fingers and picking up the glass of milk.

T'riss and Shael come down the stairs, T'riss quietly joining their table and nodding a greeting.

Shael, on the other hand, walks up to the bar and bellows back towards the kitchen, "Heya, barkeep! Your bards would like some breakfast! And some ale!" T'riss twitches her tail and Shael grins, "Pardon! An ale. Devil-horns here would like some juice." She comes to the table, "Juice indeed...bloody tiefling. I've never met someone who can hold their ale better than I can, but no, you order juice . Bloody waste of a liver."

Shael gives T'riss a light whap on the head, "You think too much too early in the morning, Tiefling."

T'riss grins, "You drink too much too early in the morning."

"Bagh! Nonsense! Ah! Innkeep our thanks!" The innkeep himself has brought their breakfast out and it's a good, hearty, if common, fare. Sure enough, Shael had her ale and T'riss has a dark juice. The innkeep quickly excuses himself as another patron bellows for him.

Shael settles back with her ale, "Too early indeed..."

The door to the inn opened, and Koravel stepped through, just in time to catch Shael's last comment, and he chuckled to himself, correctly guessing what she was referring to. "Nothin' like a good run before brekkist, eh, chaps?" However, as he turns towards the barkeeper, there is a noticeable bloodstain square in the middle of his back. He also doesn't appear to have slept much the previous night. Accepting his breakfast from the barkeeper, he sits down next to Shree with his food, along with a flagon of ale. "Aye, Shael is right, 'tis never too early fo' good ale." So, of course, he has to toast Shael, which leads to him ordering more ale almost immediately.

Shael exchanges a glance with T'riss when Koravel turns around. Her normal direct self, she asks, "Koravel, how in blazes did you end up with enough blood between your shoulder blades to be that Reginald fellow? Except for the whole lack of hole through your chest thing."

Koravel starts, momentarily choking on his food. "Nothing t' concern ye, Shael. A contact I had went a little sour, as we 'ad a disagreement on a monetary issue. 'e won't be interfering wit' our mission." The way his eyes shift, and the fact that he is unwilling to look the barbarian in her eyes, makes it obvious that he is lying through his teeth. However, he sets to on the food with relish.

Shree gives Koravel a grin when he sits down and as her breakfast is all gone she pinches something off his plate with a wink.

As she listens to Shael and Koravel talk she stretches and leans back in her chair

"Well..." she says, missing how the half-elf avoids Shael's gaze "So long as you're sure. Need me to take a look at it?" she asks "I have a little knowledge, you learn a bit when your on your own all the time"

While she is leaning backwards she reaches a hand around and picks carefully at the bloodstain hoping Koravel's interest in his food will keep him from being aggressive towards her.

Azrael abruptly stands up from the table, having quickly downed his meal. "I will wait outside. When you are done, join me." And with that gruff command, the aasimar walks out the still-open door, closing it behind him none too gently.

Koravel finishes his meal and leans back in his chair with a slight wince. He watches the aasimar leave and grins. "One should not hurry through one's brekkist." Leaning back, he drinks some more ale to help quench his thirst.

Shree, feeling her healing skills are not wanted else Koravel would have said something, rises from her seat though her body language practically screams out she wants to make sure her companion is well.

"As nice as it would be to stay, I've certainly overstayed my welcome." She can feel the burning stare of Jace on her back "I'd rather not fight undead at nightfall" she sighs then buckles her longsword and scabbard to her belt. She sees her cloak up by the door, removed from the thief she knocked out last night, and takes the cloak as she leaves, still feeling the glare of Jace.

Once outside she breaths deep, points herself in the direction she wants to go, lifts up her hood and assuming the others are perfectly able to follow a single road she decides to go on a little ahead as scout, setting herself a quick step. Three steps jogging and three steps walking - a common enough march employed by most rangers wanting to move quickly while conserving energy. She knows this hike is up hill all the way and a steep hill it is too so conservation was important.

A goodly distance ahead she slows down, the marshland becoming less pronounced and the trees thicken slightly spilling mottled sunshine on the road. Shree smiles, content to be back out in the open but so alert it is doubtful something could escape her notice. As she walks her cloak seems to help her fade into the background and her steps, though they look heavy and sure footed, are so silent it could be very easy to not even know she is there.

--

Jace waits at the bar, silently praying the last three of the group will also leave without much fuss but he does give Shael an appraising look while for Koravel he gives a hate filled sneer... while he thinks the half-elf isn't looking.

Koravel follows Shree out the door and down the road, but not before walking over to the barkeeper and unsheathing his sword. "Someone wants t' say hi, Jace."

Gil'rad immediately pipes up. "May I say, sir, that you are the rudest individual I have ever had the misfortune to meet! Giving that half-elf looks like she was some food you were going to eat. Revolting, sir, simply revolting. If I were still a mage, I'd make sure that you got all the pretty ladies you wanted... I knew several nice succubi in my time."

"Give it t' 'im, comrade." Koravel grins as he buckles the sword back on, and walks out of the inn, not looking back but letting Gil'rad lambast the barkeeper on their way out.

"Yes, indeed, why they would give you just what you deserve, devour your filthy no-good, rotten, despicable, amoral soul! Good riddance, I'd say, the world could use a few less like you. And your food! We did not like your food. It was simply the worst cooking we have ever had since my soul got trapped in here, yes sir. If you're a barkeep, shouldn't you be able to cook? I thought that I was being fed out of the sewer or some such rot. Maybe that's all they serve in here, and your palate couldn't handle anything of the finer arts. Why, I used to dine at run-down slums that gave better food than this place! Back in my time, serving such rotten food would be grounds for a duel! You have insulted my palate, sir, and I never care to come--oooo! I say! Is that a twin-tailed mocking wren? They are such rarities this time of year..."

Shael and T'riss look at each other and rise. T'riss bows to the innkeep, "Your cooking was perfectly sufficient, good innkeep. Your hospitality was also fine, but as a word of advice, extend the same quality of service to everyone. Even obnoxious mercenaries and previously rambunctious customers. It will keep patrons returning and coin in your purse." She and Shael bow as one and sweep out of the inn.

Catching up with Koravel, T'riss points ahead. "She's keepin' up a good pace, but not overly fast. If we take a short run, we should catch up relatively quickly."

The three take off at a brisk jog, matching pace unfalteringly as they make their way up the hill.

Azrael and Shree are soon caught by the trio, as all three of them can run quite faster than the aasimar and the thin half-elf, and the companions brisk jog settles to a slow one, that will nevertheless chip away at the miles rather quickly.

Shree slows, and eventually comes to a halt, the rest of the company stopping as well. Koravel looked curiously at Shree. "What is it?"

"Can you hear it?" Shree closes her eyes and cocks her head to one side. "Nothing, not a sound. No wildlife, no people apart from us, nothing. This is definitely not natural and I for one definitely do not like it."

Opening her eyes again she drums her fingers on the hilt of her longsword and ponders as to how to proceed.

"I've been told the cemetery is down this path, never been there myself so I'm going to have as little knowledge about what we are going to find down there as you." She looks around for anyone that might want to offer some form of input "Hey I'm just a traveler, a caravan scout, nothing more than that, you guys are the 'dungeon crawling' experts." She grins.

"No...no, it's certainly not natural," mutters T'riss.

She grimaces, "Well 'dungeon-crawling' as you put it is fairly simple, in theory. We go through the crypt piece by piece, never missing a dust bunny. Sometimes we come up with something and find our mark. Sometimes he's cleverer than us and we never find him. That's all in theory, of course."

She shudders, "Sometimes dungeons are the Underdark, and everything changes."

Shael puts a hand on T'riss' shoulder wordlessly, "I for one, do not enjoy them. I'm a woman of the tundra, of open spaces. But I dislike the undead," she sneers, "far less."

Azrael had been staring out over the plain, and he shakes his head. "No, it's not natural. But it is a good sign. Our quarry is near." The aasimar descends the slope at a trot.

Shael shrugged. "Well, it is his hunt. Let's go."

--

From his perch in the trees that he had taken to observe them, the Avariel saw them heading over the hill. "By the stars they have a death wish..." he thinks to himself. He raises his hand and plucks a bow out of the air, the glass-like material glowing gently, its light only casting upon its wielder as he draws the string back. An arrow materializes on the string, and with a grin, he releases it. Spreading his wings, he takes off making no sound as his soft feathered wings allow him to glide through the air and out of sight.

--
The arrow whistled past Shael and T'riss and landed three feet ahead of the aasimar, who whirled to see what had happened. The arrow exploded with a brilliant flash that lit up the plain in front of them, enough for them to see a horde of zombies lurking about the entrance to a cemetery.

"I thought you said the cemetery was past the town," Azrael growled at Shree.

Shree had whipped around as soon as she heard the arrow, arming herself with her own bow, and notching an arrow of her own. She saw nothing, however, and turned to answer the aasimar when she sees the horde out on the plain. "Oh," she simply says and re-aims - letting the arrow fly straight into a lurching zombie where upon the arrow explodes into a ball of fire.

Shree looks quite upset when the zombie continues forwards... alight... and as such, slightly more dangerous than it was before. Normally she would run backwards and continue firing but the group is surrounded. Drawing out her longsword and arming her other hand with a dagger she snarls at the ring of attackers, her back to her companions.

"Anyone have a better idea than fighting our way out of this?" she asks though the tone in her voice suggests she would rather use her blade.

Azrael mutters something under his breath, and a wave of the undead fall. He strides forward into their mist, his confidence radiating off of him in waves.

Koravel looks like he is going to throw up when Azrael starts slaying the undead, but he recovered enough to take the head off of a zombie that wandered too close.

"I have an idea," Shael yells over the noise. "Follow the priest!"

Shree watches as the undead keel over.

"Meh." she shrugs and sheaths her weapons.

She is about to follow T'riss but stops to look up at where she had been sure the first arrow can come from.

"Who are you?" she asks the silent outdoors, searching the trees for any signs of life.

So distracted is she by her musings she has failed to notice a stray Shadow, that escaped Azrael's prayer, sneaking up behind her.

Koravel mutters as T'riss and Shree pass him, keeping a slower pace. His back is actually rather hurt and is slowing him down considerably. Unlike the others, since he is farther back, he sees the winged creature fire an arrow at, he assumes, his comrades. When the creature immediately takes off afterwards, he shrugs his shoulders. "Coward, are ye? I'll get ya some time."

He reaches the top of the hill, and sees the mass of undead. There are quite a bit more than he expected, but, seeing as his companions are surrounded, he charges down the hill, gathering speed, and taking Gil'rad out as he does so.

"I say! Lots of roaming undead here, aren't there? Lemme at 'em, fearless leader! I have killed thousands of undead in my time, why there was this one time when I was surrounded by a hundred of the blasted things--"

"Shut up already." Koravel growls, for he has seen the shadow creeping out on Shree. He yells for her to watch out, but over the roar of battle, she doesn't seem to hear him. "Sorry, mate, I's knows 'ow much ye 'ates this..."

Whirling the sword over his head, he hurls it at the shadow. The sword passes clear though not only the shadow, which dissolved, but through another zombie behind him, and lodges in the chest of a second zombie, who falls to the ground under the weight of the sword. Koravel snaps the neck of a couple zombies that tried to get him while he was weaponless, leapt completely over another, and jerked Gil'rad out of the last zombie before decapitating it. Turning to the others, he growls, "What in t' nine 'ells are ye doing? T' number one best way t' get killed in a battle is t' not watch each other's backs. Work together!" Then, completely disregarding his own advice, he begins to cut a path to the aasimar. His sword is a blur of motion, cutting the undead into pieces, making sure they are really dead... again.

--

As Azrael begins to get closer to the cemetery, he encounters more and more undead, judging by the numbers, an army, but for what purpose?
"Bow before your true master." A wave of light washes quickly over the undead hordes, causing some to fight for Azrael, and others to simply fight everyone, killing anything that gets too close, but the largest part remains loyal to the necromancers that had summoned them. Chaos reigns as the undead battle themselves, destroying each other, decimating the otherwise growing army.
Azrael flies over them, and lops off the head of one of the necromancers with his scythe. The aasimar is laughing loudly as he fights.

--

T'riss and Shael fight amongst the undead. They aren't putting forth an incredible amount of strain, but they are no less deadly for it. T'riss has finally drawn her saber and she's practically dancing amongst the dead, evading their chilling touches.

Shael is more straightforward, but no less graceful as she stabs and slices her way through zombie and shadow alike. Whenever she throws her spear, she wades toward it attacking with her warhammer, switching again when reaching her spear. It's an effective technique, and she skewers several enemies that almost catch one of her comrades unawares.

Tired of the seemingly endless swath of undead, Shael takes up a war hymn, calling upon Uther to destroy the undead. T'riss picks up the chant, and between their song and blades, they gradually clear a way through the undead towards where Koravel and Shree are fighting.

Shael keeps singing, but T'riss stops singing for a moment to speak to the others, "Shall we go join Azrael at killing off some necromancers?"

--

Shree's eyes fill with shock when she first thinks Gil'rad is thrown at her. As the blade passes through the Shadow Shree catches up with what is really going on and brings up an arm to protect herself from a zombie while she arms herself.

As Koravel passes she takes a moment to cast a healing spell on him when she notices his stiff movements before she too follows after Azrael, actually bothering with Koravel's advice and keeping his back clear. There is a cry of agony in a strangely familiar accent, but Shree is too focused on the undead at the moment to investigate. Her skill with a blade is phenomenal, it is almost as if she was born with a sword in hand yet there is something to suggest that she too is not fighting her hardest, nor her best.

She hears T'riss' question and looks up to see the flying black-winged aasimar with a scythe

"There's something you don't see every day" she grins, her eyes glittering with her adrenalin surge

Suddenly she sheaths her blades, making herself completely defenseless. A jade stone hanging at her neck flashes with a brilliant white light causing several Shadows to dissipate. This was not the intended spell, but a useful by-product nonetheless and Shree is gone.

A large black panther sprints out from the group, its eyes the same bright, sharp green as Shree's and focused only on the necromancers. The transfigured Shree keeps her eyes on her target, bounding over zombies, smashing through Shadows until the massive cat springs out of the throng of Zombies to hit a completely off-guard Necromancer full on the face. Her jaws sinking into his neck, her claws ripping into his flesh. Unfortunately for the necromancer, he dies in a painful fashion called 'ripped apart by savage beast while rolling back down the hill'.

--

Meanwhile, one of the necromancers quickly begins to jabber a spell at T'riss, but she sidles up to him and cuts off his pointing finger. "Ah ah ah! It's not nice to point." As the man quivers she swings her blade to finish him. Her blade slows and stops half way to him, and the necromancer grins and laughs. T'riss frowns, "Always with the shields..."

She mutters a word to her sword and the holy flames around it slick back into the sword and spring out dancing with prismatic fire. "Ah, this should do it."

This time when she cuts to kill the necromancer, who arrogantly stands and watches, expecting failure, her sword moves effortlessly, flashing brighter as it passes through the shield. The necromancer has time to curse before she sends the blade through his neck.

--

Koravel was doing just fine, smashing through the undead as if they were simply a nuisance, when Shree tries to heal him. Pain rolls through his body, a white-hot pain that makes his back feel like it is on fire. "AGH! By t' gods, woman!"

Gil'rad, of course, has to choose this moment to pipe up. "Well, ya know, it's really your fault, big guy. If you don't tell them about your... condition... then whaddya expect them to do when they see you're hurt, eh? Honestly, you are so thick-skulled sometimes, I would have thought after the debacle with the elven war party--"

Koravel snarls and hurls the blade at a necromancer, just to get Gil'rad away from him. He then channels his pain into energy, and goes at the undead with a fury, eventually fighting his way to where he threw Gil'rad, and, picking the sword up, he slays the last of the necromancers and the majority of the undead fall with him. Koravel falls to his knees, and gingerly touches his back. The skin is fried black with the energy of the heal spell. He takes a salve out of his pack, and applies it very carefully to the burn, wincing whenever he touches his flesh.

T'riss and Shael turn towards Koravel. Confusion is etched across Shael's face and curiosity across T'riss'.

T'riss walks up to Koravel. Bending down, she takes the salve from him and applies it herself with deft practiced fingers, humming a soft song of soothing that deadens the pain...Koravel's missing areas trying to salve his own back. When she's finished, she stands up.

"Well, merc...What is it? Are you cursed, undead, hmm? We've got to know at least what will heal you and not fry you like pig grease." She fingers a black and red wand on her belt.

Koravel grimaces as T'riss applies the salve. She can barely hear his reply, as it is hissed in a low whisper through clenched teeth. "I ran afoul of a lich a few years back. It put a curse on me that slowly killed me and turned me into an undead when it finally did so." He shakily stands to his feet, not meeting her eyes. He doesn't sheathe Gil'rad, as placing the sword across his back would be particularly painful.

T'riss rolls her eyes. "Ye should have just trusted us beforehand." She flipped the black and red wand out of her belt, and aims it at Koravel's back. A beam of red light flushes the area, and to Koravel, it feels as if cold salve was just applied.

Koravel stretches his back, and is surprised to feel almost no pain left. "I think ye even got t' knife wound. My thanks, T'riss."

Shael growls a bit, "Why you go healin' the walkin' corpse, T'riss? If 'e wants to be burnt, let 'em burn."

Disgruntled, her speech lapses a bit back and she glowers at Koravel.

T'riss whispers to Koravel "Don't push her too much on her disapproval, Kor. Her tribe was almost decimated at one point by a bunch of undead and she hasn't quite gotten over it. She'll get over it, just give her a bit. In fact, give her a good ale at some point. That seems to mend most wounds with her."

He looks sideways at Shael. "Ye'd judge me fo' what I am, instead o' who I am? Most do, but I thought maybe..." He trails off and shrugs his shoulders. Sheathing Gil'rad across his back, he turns to Azrael. "So, cleric, 'ave we taken out t' undead threat? Or is there something else behind all this?" He gestures at the battlefield.

The unnaturally large panther sits a little away, cleaning the blood off her paws and jaws. Shree's eyes widen in absolute horror as she realizes what she has done to poor Koravel and the guilt hits her like a tidal wave.

Putting on a spectacular show of remorse she wanders over to him and nuzzles one of his hands with her nose as an apology. Her sharp green eyes are begging for forgiveness. For a large black killing machine she does manage to look quite adorable as she fawns over him.

The aasimar rolls his eyes at the sight of the panther. He does hear Koravel's question, however. "It was the Zhents. I have no idea why they were building such an army, but it was them. I have contacts in Amn; I intend to go there to see if they can tell me anything about this."

Shree turns back to her normal self, the process of turning back taking far longer as claws become finger nails, snout becomes a nose and her bone structure changes from quadruped to biped.

Shaking out her hair she give Azrael a curious look

"Amn, hey?" She considers Azrael's words for a long time, mulling over the tempting location. "Well I was going to Silvery Moon but... if we took a boat from Waterdeep to Baldur's gate... we could take the roads from Baldur's gate to Athkatla. Huge thieves guild there, they might have the information you need" her eyes mist over "It's been a too long since I walked Athkatla's dusty streets. And the beaches..."

"I'm coming too" she suddenly blurts out to Azrael, a little more desperately than she wanted to appear "Errrrr... if you don't mind that is" she grins "I know Amn, well bits of it, and Baldur's gate I've been to once before. You never know, I might be helpful"

Slowly she turns to Koravel, her eyes filled with sorrow and hurt

"I... I'm so sorry but I didn't know" she says quietly "If you'd said earlier I'd have never tried to help. Why didn't you just, I don't know, say something? You trust us that little?"

"I trust everyone that little. People tend t' do things when they learn what I truly am. I'd prefer they not know. I wouldn't have told you unless someone was going t' try and heal me. No offense meant. It's just how I roll. A southern holiday sounds fun, but I understand if you'd rather not 'ave me along. It'd be like taking along a drow t' fight t' drow." He chuckles grimly. Turning back to Shree with a sudden look of concern, he assures her, "Don't blame yourself, lass. Twas my fault fo' not telling yall. Sometimes, as annoyin' as he is," he leans in close and drops his voice to a whisper, "Gil'rad is right."

"I heard that! Thank ye very much! You admitted it! So many times I've said such brilliant things, and you completely ignore me, maybe now you'll listen to me more, hmm? Why I remember one time..."

Koravel rolls his eyes. "You need a mute button, mate."

Shree chuckles as Gil'rad pipes up.

"Sometimes good advice is worth listening to." She smiles warmly.

"Why in all of Faerun wouldn't we want you along?" She seems genuinely shocked. "I'd miss you otherwise" she says with a flash of a grin and she stands on her tip-toes to ruffle hair.

Turning to Shael and T'riss she cocks her head to one side.

"And it wouldn't be the same without you two either," she adds truthfully but then looks sheepish. "Besides, I have a favor to ask. We'll have to stay in the Sleeping Dragon again tonight, else it's outside. If you two turn up then Jace won't have me shot at on sight."

The aasimar heads off over the plains. "No time for that. The word of Jergal will be brought to the Zhentarim. On the winds of war. If you need to rest, you can do so in Waterdeep."

Shael grunts at Koravel, "Perfectly sentient undead destroyed my home, mercenary. Undead that once were my comrades. Give me a moment or two to try to move past that and come to the conclusion that the factors of "no longer paladin", "undead" and "sword for hire" do not add up to "turned evil when turned undead." Don't hold your breath; it might take a few minutes. Then we'll be fine."

T'riss smiles sneakily, "Actually...if you don't all mind taking a short pike, we can go somewhere else...I've got access to a Pocket Plane, call it The Kip. It wouldn't even cost you anything," she added with a wink.

Shael grins, "Aye, T'riss keeps a fine steading! Good cook too! And..." She nudges Koravel, "Good ale!"

T'riss says, "I'd have to with you visiting. You have no taste for the finer liquors. What do you say, everyone?"

Azrael merely continues on south, not even bothering to stop, though he is still within easy hearing range. T'riss sighs. "Well, how about the rest of you, then?"

Shree's eyes light up when T'riss suggests somewhere to stay that doesn't involve hiking by night and her mind is certainly made up when the subject of 'finer liquors' is touched upon

"We'll meet you at the entrance to the docks, Azrael!" She yells out at the disappearing aasimar. "Or wherever," She adds with a shrug.

"So, how does this pocket plane thing work?"

T'riss smiles, "Well...getting there is easy for me. I'm a cross-piker and can jump where I wish. I'll just take you all with me. One way trip shouldn't drain me much. When we get there, I can attune you two to some jump-stones." She holds out a hand to Shael who frowns at her.

"T'riss--"

"Shael, I can do it. I've lived for more than half of your tribe can remember, I know my limitations. Come on then." She offers her hand again. Shael takes it and gently grasps Koravel's tunic. With her other hand, T'riss holds Shree's tunic.

"Ready? Here we go."

With that they all disappear with a slight pop.

No one notices the note tied to a jump-stone that falls to the ground as they disappear.

I must thank you for your assistance in warning us of the ambush, whoever you might be. If you wish to come to us, I've left you an un-attuned jump stone. You can't just teleport in, but you can come a knocking. I'll know it's you.

--

As the group disappears, a slender figure lands softly, looking around at the carnage his large silvery eyes see the note left behind. He scoops the strange stone up easily and reads the note.

"In," he says, the word sending shivers down his back. He stretches out his wings subconsciously, as though suddenly feeling constricted. The Avariel did not like the thought of being underground, and indoors did not appeal to him at all. The human seer's home was at least open enough for him to be comfortable, but anything else...

He drops the stone and takes off again... he had heard something about them travelling south... Amn... three days as the great eagles flew. The wind whistles past his ears as he flies at high speed. Powerful magic that the Seer had gifted to him in the form of an amulet around his neck barred him from the sight of any but the most powerful of beings. Should any stray eyes land on him, they would not think twice about the unusual sight of an Avariel in flight.