A family of Idiots

A rest. One of four

//: rest 1/4

A/N: a flash update, I've had little energy for writing and even less time than little to do so. this is all I've been able to update per my notes, I hope to put up more tomorrow.

By leaving North than East Darithin had directed his own, his wings outside the lands of Chesedonia. His chosen tourh, through mountian and hight,m had seemed to elude the Daathian efforts to find him and his own. But when one's foes have alies in every toen, every habitation becomes a double edged blade. On one hand supplies lay within each place, a change for profit and hope towards rest. But so can death, for the priesthood could rouse the masses by threat of excomunication if thier demands were not met..

And the death of a pack of brigands wouldn't stretch the conciounces of many by much.

Compiling bad upon worse thier ;'daring;' escape had cost them supplies and energy that they shoudl be hording. So with less to his name than he'd started this misadventure and another mouth to feed Darithin had come to a chocie.

And like all decisions, to spite the predetermined, he wold let the dice decide.

The dice hadn't been in his favor much these days. But the pieces had been set in the cup, and the run had gotten the pieces tobouncing. Luck in or not it was his cast now. So as he rolled the pieces in his hand, considered the factors, the odds, thier strengths and weakness, and patted one and all for a bit of luck.

There would be monsters. NightRaids, those lupine beasts that nested in the shadows of boulders and slunk throug the low gloom cast by long grass. They would infest the forests too, thickening shade into ominous gloom, dripping a miasma of dispair from their hides. Amongst the distant branches, nestled amongst green upon green flocked heralds to dispair. Those emerald heralds would scream songs of pain, and thier choirs could drive the sane mad. Such were the tactics of Howlers, those leaf green devils driven more than one off track caravan's crew insane with thier caterwalling. He'd seen the bodies amongst ruined campsites, strewn about like child's toys amongst the disorder of man made order.

To that recollection he made a concession to habbit -to his captor in a way- and decided off of cold logic that avoiding the forests would most definately be wise.

Ah, but the roads. Northern bound and beconing, the held thier own perils. Violet DeathSeekers prowled the open places at twilight. Heads crowned with back curving horls that woudl slash even as the sinous neck thrust forward to deliver a bit... The long, serpendinte beasts would not hesitate to attack anything. Born rabid and raised mad they would kill just to kill. Their own deaths meant nothing as it was commonly known that a lone 'Seeker would tak on an army until it was torn to shreds and the corpse burnt. Granted they could only prowl that hourish span between day and night, and while that was some consolation the fact that they tended to travel in packs of a dozen strong banished that one weakness. Eager to kill, each other as anything else, they, more than bandits and trials of the roads, and laws of the Malktuh, insured that the peoples visiting Daath afoot would do so in large bands.

And upon that cheery note he shivered. To battle the mad, no sane man dared. Whether the mad thing you fought was two legged or four, you didn't take on the insane. Victory against one of those was too much like defeat. It could cost you a soul, some fingers and toes, and other much more important parts pivitol to reproduction...

WIth a sigh he considered the ground around them. Flat for now, the path seemed smooth. He tossed a length of wood on the fire, one of their last, and considered while he watched it burn. He coudl almost feel the hands of fate thrusting the rolling cup in his hands. It was his toss, after all... There were other things, amongst the wilds and the roads. THings without names, monsgters amongst monsters, colasal beasts that had hides as jagged as a storm front and thunder for thier steps.

All of the above was North, all of it waiting.

Smooth would become hilled before turning into the monotious track of stone and steel taht cust across the back of the sea. Partols tropped accross that span, the militia of Malkuth paced back and forth escorting those of proper write and forbading those with none.

Many were those poor souls who'd forgotten some slip of paper and been turned away only to be killed by the various beisties he'd mulled over just now. And the Malkuth's had the gall to claim thier national color was blue.

With a sick crack and applause of sparks that were spat, the fire split the wood down the center. Little starlets of red and yellow twined and died amongst the coils of smoke and gloom. He stared at the dark aboce the light, idly trying to unwind smoke from shadows and failing utterly.

Get to the bridge and worry about crossing it when you get there.

Thus spoke the voice of unwisdom, of hope, of chance, of desperation. Such things were sacrelige, the mullings of a heathen, and he listened to the optimism of his thoughts rather than the words so he wouldn't lose courage.

It was all of spite, of course. All his actions had the sole goal to spite Lorelei.

And for the spiting, because a large part of him was spite, he smiled and leaned back agaisnt the unyielding stone, enjoying his bitter repast.

"DeathSeekers, Howlers, and Nightraids, oh my." Dari of the Dark Wings sneered to the gold tinged flames and it's gathering of ash.

The gold light would fail, smoothering on what had once been it's suscience. Still, above and beyond the relm of sight smoke chased shadow, and shadow twined with smoke. To weave a noose, a tapestry? Perhaps they were one and both. Perhaps he was just thinking too much...

Deciding that that last thought was the wisest one of his watch Dari yawned. He was getting almost... sentimental while mulling over thier odds amongst the gold, gloom, and his slumbering companions, agsint such stark backgrounds. To counter that he closed his eyes, and decided to be undecided for the night. Tomorrow would bring what it may.

And like all the games he played against his unseen, all seeing, advisery Dari smirked as he tossed the cup and it's die in Lorelei's face. Let the piffs land where they would, he was getting some shut eye.