Considering the fact that they often made plans that would span centuries-and therefore a day or two made no matter to them-the eladrin were very punctual. They arrived on some of the largest and best stallions Rain had ever seen, having spent the last half-tenday recovering to arrive clean and with full bellies.

Shakairra's group and the freedmen had turned the gutted house into a camp with three walls. The roof was still intact enough to keep the thirteen freedmen dry from the pummeling rain that had started in the evening and continued the two days it took Mindartis to arrive. There were no eladrin among the freedmen, so Elkvein wasn't quite as sour. She even began to warm up to a couple halflings who approached her after hunting rabbits and deer with Rain for hints on the art of stealth. The elves weren't so willing to befriend the drow, and were a bit chilly to Shakairra. They tended to gravitate towards Gundar and Rain, which was fine by her. It was good to speak so much Elven again, even if these elves tended towards the cities and towns of the Gray Vale. That and the fact that Gundar offered one of the legs of a caught rabbit to Moradin as sacrifice were the only things that alienated the two of them from the elves, but they were minor differences in the big scheme of things.

The rain was still coming down hard, so the six hooded riders emerged from the fog like primal spirits. Rain was the one on watch, perched on a pile of rubble just within the roof's shade, finishing a very special project.

She reached for her hammer until she saw the emerald orbs smiling at her beneath the head hood and relaxed. "Shakairra! Mindartis is here!"

They were boiling rabbit stew in the fireplace. Shakairra got up to greet the eladrin as Quarrel-Karn waved his hand with a flare and the fire took form of fluttering birds, greeted by the awed applause of the halflings and elves. She smiled when Mindartis dismounted and shook the water from his hood. "You work fast, Romazi."

"Hope we weren't interrupting."

"Not at all." He nodded to the shifter. "Rain."

Rain tackled him with a hug. "Mindartis, good to see you!"

Mindartis's eyes popped as he slowly returned the hug and the other eladrin snickered. "I...didn't realize how much I was missed."

Rain almost blushed. "Oh, sorry. Sometimes I forget not everyone likes hugs. That's how everyone greeted each other in the village."

"Don't hug eladrin, Rain," one of the halflings chuckled, a resourceful hunter named Corrin. He'd been a ranger on the edge of Zelbross when the slave traders had snatched him on the way out the door. Everyone had thought a bear had gotten him or something. "In fact, a lot of big people don't like that."

"They do in Elfharrow!" Rain argued, ushering the eladrin into the warmth of the house. "Are the others here, Mindartis?"

"Dayereth was unable to come," Mindartis lamented. "As was Quarion."

"We can bring a message back, if you wish," the silver-haired Naivara replied, though she was less than a century old.

"Well, I know your culture places more value on magic than nature, but I found myself with some extra materials and wanted to give you these." From a leather bag Rain pulled out four of nine necklaces she'd been making out of dragon teeth and pearls, unburied from one of the dragon's pocketed hoards. The teeth were yellow, the pearls between each tooth black and winking in the evening sun.

Mindartis gently took one and smiled. "Not an elf custom, I see."

"Do I look like an elf to you?"

"Only about as much as I look human," Shakairra chortled. "We have over a dozen freedmen. How do you plan to proceed?"

"In comfort, with no rush." Mindartis put his head through the necklace; it rested on his emerald armor as if it'd always been there. "We will wait for the rain to stop, which should not be too long. Then we will proceed with caution."

"Then the five of us will leave tomorrow morning. By my calculations the next stop is a two-day ride. Meanwhile, have a seat. Warm yourselves. We've got rabbit stew cooking."

"We also have a present for you," Naivara ventured. "We brought a tattoo artist."

Another eladrin stepped forward. He was the oldest of the group; he even had the beginnings of wrinkles around his eyes and mouth. "Mindartis and his team have enchanted markings. I can do the same for you."

Shakairra and Rain exchanged a rather bewildered look. To Rain, markings in the tribes were temporary war paint used to camouflage the warriors as they hid in the trees and underbrush. Permanent, magic markings were a new concept.

"What benefits would it bring?" Shakairra asked.

"I can give you any number of small boons such as increased healing upon injury, speed, endurance against the elements..."

"Let me run it by the others."

"Magic tattoos?" Elkvein echoed, frowning. "I don't like it. They're putting us in their debt."

"Or they're trying to show their gratitude for helping them," Quarrel-Karn pointed out.

"I rather like the idea," Gundar ventured. "A little magic to aid us all would help, and it would help provide an identity for us."

Elkvein crossed her arms. "We already have an identity. We're the drow, genasi, deva, and shifter led by a tiefling."

"A name would help," Rain argued. "All the great packs and tribes have names. Something short and sweet."

"With snakes!" Quarrel-Karn added. "Gotta have snakes."

Shakairra frowned. "Why snakes?"

"Snakes are amazing."

Elkvein sighed. "And wings. It has to have wings."

Rain paused, stood, and went to the corner where she'd stashed her things. She pulled out her shield. "Will this work?"

A slow smile crept across Shakairra's pointed teeth. "The Flying Cobras. I rather like that."

Elkvein shrugged. "It's all right. But I want speed and discrepancy."

"Discrepancy? For us?" Shakairra laughed. Quarrel-Karn's chuckles turned to guffaws, followed by Rain and Gundar, even Elkvein.

The eladrin painted their skin. It didn't matter what size it was or the location on the body. Shakairra had it on her ankle, Elkvein the back of her neck to be hidden by her waterfall of silvery-white hair, Quarrel-Karn put it on his back, Gundar his pale blue chest, and Rain put hers around her left shoulder, a great hissing cobra with bat-like wings. Rain felt herself swell with pride as the eladrin put crushed herbs on the burning, tender skin, feeling like ice kissing the fires in her blood. Arcana pulsed in her blood, mingling with the primal ecstasy never more than a heartbeat away. With matching markings and trophy necklaces, they looked like a true pack.