Guild Wars: Vengeance

by Ewol Navi

Called out of exile, a lone ranger returns home to the Land of the Golden Sun and finds the continent at war. In her quest to save Elona from evil and tyranny she makes alliances, forges a guild and faces the demons of Torment. Joined by an intrepid elementalist, she must end the ambitions of a mad Warmarshal ... before Nightfall comes. (Novelization of Guild Wars: Nightfall)

20. Chapter 19: Friends Like These

Ch. 19

Friends Like These

Rakiv stood alone, in a far flung cave of the Sunspear Sanctuary. The ranger held her palms pressed together in front of her chest and kept her breathing slow and regulated. Violet eyes were clamped shut as she focused intently, seeking to touch the will of the wild forces of the world. She extended one hand to grasp the haft of the standard issue Suntouched scythe she'd borrowed from the guild's armory. It had been some time since she'd honed her skills as a melee fighter, but there was no time like the present. Her brow scrunched as the words of her old masters drifted through her memories.

It was a hot day in Kourna, and the golden sun burned high at its noonday apex. The cobble stones beneath her radiated heat, but she paid it no mind. Resistance to the elements was an advantage she had over the other girls, one of the perks of growing up in the wild. The short red-head glanced to her left, where her dark-skinned team mate shook sweaty braids from her face. Kormir's discomfort was visible, and it seemed she was not well used to the outdoors. To Raki's right the taller figure of their upperclassman mentor stood stock still in her stance. Yurukaro had a will of steel, tempered no doubt by her upbringing in the service of the war god. Rakiv had found that she was slowly aspiring to gain that kind of steadfast focus and willpower. For now, however, she would rely on her stubborn refusal to fail.

The three girls stood on smooth marble pillars, each barely a hand's span wide. Thus they were forced to stand only on their left foot, with their right leg drawn up so that their right foot was pressed to their left knee. Their left arm was raised to shoulder height, with their palm facing down and their fingers held rigid. With their right hand each girl held the scythe they had been issued. The weapon had to be held fully extended and gripped by the snathe. This had been their task for the morning… it was a position they had held for nearly three hours. A number of other classes had failed this exercise, often somewhere in the second hour. Yurukaro had made it clear to her younger team mates that she intended to succeed. Though they trembled and quivered, none of them had fallen. So it was that they were greatly relieved to finally see their instructor stride out of the temple commons and make his way towards them.

"Well done," the tall, ebon skinned man applauded, "Well done indeed. Few so young have ever lasted for the duration of the exercise. I have heard it muttered among the students that this training is useless, and needless torture. What say you?"

"Not our place to judge, Master Gehraz," Yurukaro replied stiffly.

"You command, we obey sir!" Kormir added, though with obvious strain in her voice.

"Not needless or useless, sir!" Rakiv's high-pitched squeak chimed in.

"So good to see our trainees are so devoted to their master's instructions," Gehraz chuckled, "But as you have succeeded in withstanding my challenge, you have earned the right to see its use. Come down."

In unison the three girls hopped from the posts and landed on both feet. The class snapped to attention, standing up straight and drawing their scythes to stand at their sides. Gehraz motioned for them to move aside and he reached out to take Rakiv's scythe from her hand.

"Stand back, and watch closely," he instructed as he strode to the pillars.

The girls each took a knee and looked up as their master stepped up onto the pillar and assumed the very stance they had held for so long.

"To be a dervish you must fight with the power and balance of the Five themselves," Gehraz instructed, "Balthazar is your strength, Lyssa your grace. Grenth is your precision, Melandru your fortitude and Dwayna is your speed. When you understand these attributes and discipline them in yourself, you will know what it is to truly do the will of the gods."

Thus saying, Gehraz straightened his stance and with a swing of his right leg began to pirouette on the pillar. With each revolution he spun faster and faster, until the scythe he held began to sing as its blade cut through the air. The dervish bent his knee and jumped, spinning through the air and landing on the next pole. Gehraz' spin never slowed and his balance never faltered as he performed the feat again, twirling through the air to land on the third pole. Still he spun with dizzying speed until finally he sprang from the pole and gave a loud battlecry as he swung the scythe and brought the blade down upon the cobblestones. The girls' eyes stood wide open as their instructor rose to his feet, showing absolutely no signs of dizziness or disorientation. Instead he calmly strode back to Rakiv and offered her the scythe.

"Remember that your prayers are heard, and your faith is your strength," Gehraz said, as the little red-head girl took the weapon from him, "In all things show steadfast devotion, indomitable will and open your soul to power greater than yourself. In doing so you will rise as the champions we have hoped for, and you may one day become the saviors of this world."

"Steadfast devotion… indomitable will," Rakiv muttered, her fingers curling about the scythe snathe, "Power greater than myself."

Such had been the tenants of the Khel Varr, instructions she had heard over and over as a child. The ranger furrowed her brow slightly. She had decided long ago that some powers were no longer worth her devotion, but there were other forces in the world that could offer her strength. As she raised the scythe and extended it, she finally opened her eyes and stared out at the empty cavern before her.

"Spirits of the winds," she murmured, "Grant me thy Featherfoot Grace."

Barely bending her knee the huntress made a small hop, that sent her sailing across the cave. The scythe spun in her grip as she pirouetted through the air and landed in the center of the cavern.

"Spirits of the wild," she invoked, "Cloak me in thy Veil of Thorns!"

The ranger rammed the butt of her scythe into the earth, releasing a sudden rush of barbed bramble that snaked across the cave. At this the ranger went on a sudden and vicious offensive. The scythe blade flashed and sang as she cut her way through the enchanted thicket in a display of deadly grace. With a thrust of her hand a burst of cold flash froze her surroundings, as she invoked the spirits of the winds. A swing of her blade cropped up a sandstorm, as the spirits of world obeyed her call and flung sand shards in all directions.

The ranger ended her exercise with a sudden and powerful reaping sweep that cleaved clean through a mass of solid granite. Satisfied with herself the ranger stepped back to pant lightly while admiring her handiwork. Broken thrones, frozen soil and quickly dissolving spikes of sandstone littered the cavern. Rakiv knew that her invocations would likely have called up the ire of her masters, but she knew at least one would approve of her abilities.

"Excellent!" the soothing tenor of her long-time friend and mentor called.

Rakiv and Eidolon stood on the red earth of the Marga Coast, where the eleven-year-old girl stood in awe before her first successful nature ritual. The Spirit of Favorable Winds floated easily before her, regarding her with mild curiosity. Rakiv turned with a gleeful smile as Eidolon offered her light applause.

"Congratulations," the ritualist smiled at her, "You've completed your first ritual, and summoned your first spirit."

"It's… amazing," Rakiv said with wonder, "It's like… a ghost but not a ghost."

"Not all spirits are the souls of the dead," Eidolon chuckled as he strode up next to her, "There are many spirits around us Rakiv. Spirits that you cannot see or hear, but they're at work right now. Stop, listen…. You hear that?"

Rakiv listened quietly. The sounds of the world echoed all around them. In the distance she could hear the crash and roar of the sea as it rose over the sands. Above her breezy zephyrs whistled through the skies as trees and bushes and grasses swayed easily in the wind.

"There are spirits that are in charge of the tides," Eidolon explained, "Who see to it that the sea rises and falls. There are spirits in the sky, who shepherd the clouds and bring rain to the farmers. There are even spirits in the earth, who look after the trees, who nurture the plants and who guide the animals to hunt and feed and drink. There are spirits everywhere Rakiv, and all of them know you."

"They know me?" the young girl blinked, "Why would they know me?"

"Because they've watched over you too Rakiv," the tall man smiled down at her, "All your life in fact. They see that you're destined for greatness, and they can help you become great."

"How can they do that?" Rakiv asked, her brow furrowing with mild confusion, "Aren't they busy with all their other jobs?"

"Not too busy for us," Eidolon laughed, "The teachers at the temple will tell you everything is controlled by the gods, but there's a lot of things that the spirits can do. All the things that the dervish pray for in battle can be done just as well by a spirit… so long as you know which spirit to call to."

"Master Zen says that we should only open ourselves to the power of the gods," Rakiv cited.

"Ahh, but the spirits do not dwell in you Rakiv," Eidolon smiled, as he raised his hand, "They work with you."

The ritualist curled his fingers and green mist and emerald energy crackled around his hand and forearm. With a rapid flick of his arm he loosed a bolt of green lightning that seared the air and split a standing stone. Rakiv's eyes widened as she watched his movements, and found that she could discern a large ghostly shape behind Eidolon that moved as he did. Its power flowed over the ritualist, culminating in the powerful electrical strike that Eidolon commanded.

"Times may come," he said, looking back down at the awe struck young girl, "When even the power of the gods may fail you. But never forget that the spirits are not bound by realms or planes or worlds. They are there, wherever you go. Know them, call them and they will always be there to give you strength."

Rakiv tipped her waterskin and drank deeply from it as she reflected on her old master's words. It was now that his teachings became applicable. No longer were her foes merely men and women of flesh, blood and bone. Now she faced demons, devourers of mind and soul who felt neither the bite of steel nor feared the pain of death. She would need greater strength to face them. But she would not pray. No plea to the cruel divines would pass her lips. She did not need the gods.

"Guildmistress!" a voice called from the access tunnel, breaking Rakiv from her reviere.

The ranger mopped sweat from her brow with the towel slung about her shoulders as a messenger sprinted into the cave. The young man skid to a stop and stood stiffly in salute until Rakiv gestured for him to stand at ease.

"Report," she commanded.

"Chief Officer Raelesin requests your presence immediately," the messenger said, "He says it has something to do with our mole problem."

Rakiv twisted her lips skeptically. Kydar and the members of the Intelligence Department had been on something of a witch hunt for the past few weeks. The elementalist was certain they had a leak, and he was bound and determined to see it plugged. The woman rose from her rock and gestured for the messenger to lead the way. The young man saluted again and turned to lead the guildmistress through the underground caverns.

Things had been quieter in the Sanctuary for some time now. With so many members of the guild gone back to Istan, Rakiv's forces had been quickly decreased. Most of those present now were Kournans who had thrown in their lot with the underground rebellion. Many of these were not fighting men, but refugees who sought protection and to support the guild in its struggle against Varesh. These women and children had contributed all that they could, from providing the mess hall with better food and cooking, to setting up a large bazaar in one of the northern caves. The smugglers that had plied their wares there during the guild's early days had found the guild to be an excellent market for their goods. Thus a small economy had sprung up under ground, with guild merchants haggling with smuggler traders over costs and quantities.

As they made their way through the bazaar, Rakiv noted an increased centaur presence in the subterranean market. Zhed, Grif and Kol had been joined by representatives of the Veldrunner pride. Laph Longmane and his mate, Yera Swiftsight had come below to work as messengers and liaisons between the pride and the guild. In recent weeks the Veldrunner had come under heavy attack by the Kournan forces. With the Dejarin Estate retaken, the Veldrunner's numbers had been bolstered by the recovery of many of their old pridemates. The pride had even taken in many Redhoof and Sunstrider refugees whose prides had been broken and had nowhere to go. Veldrunner was now the strongest (and only remaining) pride in Elona, and Mirza had continued to strengthen his pride by keeping close ties to the guild.

This had, however, only compounded Mirza's troubles. The centaurs told tales of Kournan divisions led by a massive boar-like demon that assaulted their nesting grounds and high places. Mirza had responded by attacking the Kournan supply lines. Centaur warbands struck at outposts and towns that held the food and supplies that were the life line of the Kournan peace-keeping forces. Rakiv had lent some of her swiftest agents to these warbands, aiding the centaurs in attacking quickly and then vanishing into the desert. Bayel's campaign was stymied, and even with one of Varesh's greatest demons in his employ, his men could not march without food and water. Thus Veldrunner and Dormant Vengeance continued to strengthen and prosper, while the Kournan army remained hard pressed to protect their strongholds against these guerilla fighters.

"Guildmistress!" Yera called from across the market as she clopped towards the red-headed human, "I need to speak with you."

"Walk and talk Yera," Rakiv said, still following the messenger, "I've got a lot on my plate."

"Of course," the female centaur nodded, brass ornaments jangling about her horns, "But this is a matter of some importance."

"Which means something serious has happened," Rakiv said, looking up at the centaur as they passed by a fishery stall, "Some new development on the front lines?"

"Worse I'm afraid," Yera said worriedly, "A runner came to the tunnels today crying that our home has been found. Mirza's scouts sighted a Kournan division that slipped by us from the north, and is marching on the Ancestor Tree."

"What?" Rakiv blinked, "How did that happen? I've had lookouts in the northern trails of the Procession for days."

"We think there is some darker magic afoot," Yera admitted, "Some of our pridesmen found very strange plant life in the Sunward Marches… plants that smelled of a corruption of some kind. They followed the trail and found a sort of underground tunnel that led out into the Procession, behind our lines."

Rakiv was silent for a moment. Melonni had spoken of corruption in the earth, plants and creatures touched by a demonic taint. If that was the case, this could be the use Varesh had planned for the corrupted nature. It immediately occurred to her that this bode ill for their struggle. Dormant Vengeance's advantage had been largely based on their subterranean command post, and the ability to strike from the sand and vanish back into the earth at will. If Varesh could tunnel quickly through the ground, it would not be long before the Sanctuary itself was threatened. At the moment however, their allies were in more immediate danger, and Veldrunner was not an ally they could afford to loose.

"Find Melonni, tell her everything you told me," Rakiv said, "Tell her and Sousuke to pull together a defense force and head for the Ancestor Tree. I want them to make sure that Kournan boots never touch Veldrunner soil."

"Thank you Guildmistress," the centaur woman said, tipping her horns and clapping a fist to her breast in salute.

"Thank Melonni and Sousuke once your village is safe," Raki said, "Tell them to move as fast as they can."

"I shall!" the centaur confirmed before turning on her haunches and trotting away.

The ranger chewed her lip as she followed the messenger through the main Sanctuary and up one of their larger access tunnels. Something else about this new problem bugged her. For the Kournans to be able to tunnel behind their lines, the military must have known where Rakiv had placed her scouts. This information had been largely privileged, restricted to the officers and the scouting team itself. As she climbed the ramp upwards she found herself hoping that Kydar had indeed caught their mole. The messenger came to a halt at one of the great stone gates that had been placed over the tunnel exit. Two guards stood on either side of the round stone that blocked the tunnel, and both quickly snapped to attention at the sight of the guildmistress.

"I need to go up there," Rakiv waved a hand at the door, "You guys mind?"

"Of course not, guildmistress," the guard to her left shook his head and stepped aside, "Please, wait one moment."

The guards rooted their feet on the earth as both muttered incantations under their breaths. With a quick gesture and a flash of magic, the elementalists caused the stone gate to rise into the ceiling, opening the way out into the daylight.

"Thanks boys," Rakiv smiled as she passed them by, "Keep up the good work," she added.

"Ahai, Guildmistress!" both saluted.

Rakiv shook her head and chuckled lightly. Normally she wasn't the ego stroking type, but with the grim state of affairs surrounding the guild, it had been decided amongst the officers that every effort to increase morale should be taken. The messenger crossed out of the pale stone of the cavern and onto the red sand of Marga. The rear gate to the village of Ronjok stood before them and they passed into the small village unopposed. This made Rakiv's brow furrow. Rojok's guards were nowhere to be seen, and indeed the village seemed strangely quiet. The messenger led her through the huts and buildings until they reached the village square, where it appeared the entire village had assembled.

"Thanks," Rakiv said, placing a hand on the messenger's shoulder as she stepped past him, "I'll take it from here. Go get yourself an ale from the mess."

"Yes, Guildmistress," the messenger nodded.

Rakiv stepped forward and elbowed her way into the crowd. As the villagers caught sight of red hair passing through their midst, the throng quickly parted to give the guildmistress passage through. The crowd had gathered to stare in a singular direction, towards one of the village's small granary huts. Jonah stood several paces away from the hut's door, his arm folded over his chest and his foot tapping worriedly.

"What's going on here elder?" Rakiv asked as she stepped up next to him.

"Ah, Ranger Maelstrom," Jonah said with mild surprise before turning his gaze back towards the hut, "Something… gravely serious I fear. Overseer Lonai and Agent Rojis came this morning with Chief Officer Raelesin. They claimed that we had a traitor in our midst."

Rakiv arched a brow at the elder as he turned his eyes to her, his ancient face creased with worry.

"They claim it is Chuno," he said.

"The herdsman?" Rakiv's brow furrowed, "Did they say how they knew he did it?"

"Agent Rojis claimed he intercepted correspondences to a man named Kayin," Jonah said, "And he tracked the courier back to this village. The letters contained particulars about your guild, including troop placements, raid plans and… other sensitive information. I uh… here, he gave the letters to me."

The elder extended a trio of parchment rolls to Rakiv, who accepted them and unrolled the first. Violet eyes surveyed the scribbles across the page and her expression slowly darkened. It was all here, everything from the patrol assignments at the Dejarin Estate, to the locations of spies across Kourna. Quickly she unrolled the next page, reading vague conjecture that concerned the plans for the evacuation of the Sunspear survivors. As she unrolled the third letter and read its contents a scowl crossed her face. The letter detailed the postings of her lookouts in the northern territories of Turai's Procession. It seemed Kydar had indeed found their mole. The woman handed the letters back to the elder, who took them with an expression of growing concern wrinkling his features.

"Wait here," she ordered as she strode to the hut.

The ranger stormed across the dirt and with a heavy blow, kicked the hut door open. Inside the tall, dark-skinned scribe stood with his arms folded and his back to the ranger. A single lantern swung from the ceiling, casting flickering light through the darkened hut. Kydar turned and blinked in surprise at Rakiv's arrival.

"Oh, you got my message," he said and chuckled slightly, "Bit of a dramatic entrance don't you think?"

"Report," Raki demanded.

"We ran a mission, kind of a dangerous one, at the city of Jahai," Kydar said, turning to face her, "We sent Rojis in for one last op. Nerashi had tracked a runner making suspicious trips to and from Ronjok. We caught him and squeezed him for info, but he had no evidence on him. We sent Rojis in for a deep cover op to retrieve the evidence we needed. The runner gave up his contact as Chuno, the letters confirmed it."

"How did he get all this intel?" Rakiv said, her voice slowly growing deeper, "Half of this stuf wasn't said outside of officers meetings."

"Our security isn't as good as we think," Kydar sighed, "Most of it he picked up just by eavesdropping on our meetings in adjacent caves and tunnels. Some of it he stole from Dunkoro's tent himself. As far as we can tell he was doing this on his own. Nerashi is searching his hut right now."

"Where is he?" the ranger snapped.

Kydar turned and stepped to a large sheet that had been strung between the hut's walls. He whipped it back to reveal what had become of herdsman Chuno. The Kournan herder had been tied to a chair, his torso stripped bare and his feet planted in a bucket of water. The man was very much alive, but obviously in a great deal of pain. A few small burn marks marred his chest, while his arms and shoulders bore strange, foreign lumps that looked as though something had been inserted beneath his skin. Lonai stood next to him, her fingertips glowing green with a necromantic hex as she watched him in grim silence.

A moment later, Rojis emerged from the shadows behind the prisoner, his left hand holding a simple wand made of copper. As the agent muttered an incantation he touched the wand to Chuno's shoulder and a deep hum filled the hut as the Lightning Touch sent electricity coursing through the herdsman's body. While Chuno quaked in his seat and cried out hoarsely, each of the lumps in his skin began to writhe as the Insidious Parasites in his flesh tried to burrow their way away from the tormenting electrical energies. Rojis was stone faced as held the spell for only a moment, before he lifted the wand away and Chuno was allowed to relax once more.

"He clammed up just a minute ago," Kydar sighed with a hint of frustration as the prisoner panted for breath, "He said something about a Kournan troop movement, and it sounded like they were going to hit one of our allies. But he realized he'd said too much and hasn't spoken since."

"How long have you been doing this?" Rakiv asked.

"Couple hours now," Kydar shrugged, "Wouldn't have been necessary if he could have just been civil."

Rakiv ground her teeth. She didn't like this, not one bit. But the man was also a traitor, and had cost her good men and women, not to mention the endangerment of the survivors who had fought so bravely at the battle of Gandara. A growl rolled in her chest, almost before she was aware of it and she gestured to the officers.

"Untie him," she ordered Rojis, "And get those things out of his skin."

Lonai looked at Rakiv curiously, and then glanced at Rojis who also hesitated.

"Now!" the ranger said, her voice more bark than speech.

The officers hurried to do as bidden, and once Rojis had pulled the last cord from Chuno's wrists, Rakiv stepped in front of him and placed her hands on the chair's arms. She leaned over him, violet eyes burning wrathful holes into his own muddy browns. For his part Chuno was panting in relief from the pain, but his breath caught in his throat as Rakiv leaned in over him.

"You've put all of us in a lot of danger," she said, "And you're going to tell me who you gave up to the Kournans."

"I… hah, I put you in danger?" Chuno snorted, some of his righteous anger remaining, "You put us in danger. This… hrrk, aggh.." the man coughed and choked before spitting up a wad of bile, "Ugh… this wasn't a war until you made it one. Varesh… Varesh would have seen reason, if you hadn't forced her hand. You Sunspears… think you're so great. Guardians of Elona… my ass!"

"I do not have time to argue political bullshit with you Chuno!" Rakiv roared.

With a savage kick to the chair, the woman sent Chuno and his seat sliding across the dirt to crash into the back wall of the hut. Chuno grunted at the impact, and wheezed as he tried to recover his breath. The ranger was upon him in an instant, glaring down at him.

"Which village did you give up!" she shouted, "Where are the Kournan's going!"

"M-Melandru, Great Goddess of the Living Earth," Chuno began instead, focusing on prayers to block out the woman above him, "We beseech thee, Mother dear…"

"Do not speak that name!" Rakiv snarled savagely as she brought her foot down on the wood of the chair between his legs.

The chair shattered beneath Chuno, causing him to collapse onto a heap of splinters and wood chips. The herdsman continued to ignore her, covering his head with his hands as he continued to pray.

"Hear our prayer and with holy care, provide us our daily bread," he continued to recite, "From thy bosom we receive thy bounty, and worshipfully give thanks. Our crops, our herds, this very earth we consecrate to thee. And against evil men, we pray, defend…"

The herdsman was cut off as Rakiv had finally had enough. The woman swooped down and clamped her hand around the man's throat. With an almost effortless heave, the short ranger lifted the herdsman from the ground, holding him up at arms length and leaving his feet to dangle in the air. Chuno choked and gasped as he clutched at the woman's arm that had become like corded steel. Shock and terror crossed his features as he looked down into the ranger's face. Rakiv's eyes had turned yellow, her pupils narrowed to savage slits and even her teeth seemed to become sharpened fangs. The man shook and struggled against Rakiv's inhuman grip and his feet kicked desperately as the ranger held him fast.

"The gods will not save you from me," she snarled savagely, "You will pray and I will tear you limb from limb! Your gods will do nothing but watch as I gut you and devour you alive!"

"Rakiv…" someone's voice drifted from behind her, but the ranger was beyond listening.

"Where are the Kournan's going!" she bellowed, her grip tightening as Chuno's struggles grew weaker.

"H…he….ere…" the man managed to rasp, "Th-they… hrkk… com..ing…heeree…"

"When!" Rakiv shouted.

"T…day…" he gasped, his eyes beginning to roll back into his head, "To..day…"

With a contemptuous snarl Rakiv gave a powerful heave and threw the man clear across the hut. Chuno slammed into the wooden wall with enough force to make the whole structure shudder. The herdsman immediately lost consciousness and slumped to the floor in a limp heap. All eyes in the hut turned to Rakiv, who stood facing away from her officers. Her breathing was rapid and ragged, and she stumbled slightly as she gripped at the wall for balance.

She sensed someone move up behind her, but whoever it was was wise enough not to touch her. The ranger closed her eyes as the shudders ran through her body. In her mind the beast was baying and chomping at the bit, demanding that it be free for the coming conflict. The Kournans would never know what hit them and the bloodlust could be easily sated. But the ranger was not yet willing to surrender control, and curled her fist against the wall as she willed her breathing to slow.

"Rojis…" she said, breathing deeply and fighting the rush of adrenaline, "Take the herdsman below. Find a cave, make it a cell. I want him alive… and in no worse condition than he is in now."

"Yes guildmistress," Rojis saluted and quickly moved to follow the order, glad for the excuse to leave the hut.

"Lonai…" Rakiv sighed slowly, having regained more of her composure, "Speak with Jonah. Tell him everything, and warn him… we need to be prepared for whatever's coming."

"Yes guildmistress," the necromancer nodded as she too quickly exited the hut.

Rakiv was silent, leaning against the wood as she slowly regained control. A hand alighted on her shoulder and she half turned her head to see Kydar staring down at her. The ranger was silent for a moment, before turning her gaze away from him.

"I don't like torture," she said, "Not… not like this. From now on… you get your information quickly. If that doesn't work, make a cell somewhere below and put them in it."

"Understood," Kydar said.

The hut was again silent as Rakiv listened to her heartbeat slow to a normal rate. After a long moment she was finally certain. She was herself again, and she had work to do. Her head turned again as she looked at the red gloved hand on her shoulder and then looked up at Kydar.

"You can let go of me now," she grumbled.

"You sure?" Kydar quipped.

The ranger hesitated. The look in his eyes was not accusatory or judgmental, merely concerned. Whether it was concern for her well being, or concern for what her sudden savagery meant in the larger scheme of things she wasn't sure, but she didn't want or need his pity.

"Yes," she said as she knocked his hand away and pushed her way past him, "I am."

As she moved away towards the hut's door she was inwardly fuming, both at her officers and at herself. Interrogation was a necessary part of their business, information was vital if they were to win this war and they could ill afford to pass up opportunities to acquire it. But somehow this was different, this was more than just information gathering… it was deliberate torment. She had noted this attribute in Kydar long ago, and while at first it had only surprised her, it now began to disturb her. The elementalist exhibited a capacity for cold and calculated cruelty, which seemed to be paradoxical given his character.

In the time that they had worked together, Rakiv had come to know the scribe as helpful, capable and even caring and gentle. He'd done wonders for Anicara, whom Rakiv now relied on as one of her most dependable and capable agents. He and Alendra had been great for keeping guild morale high, and he'd saved all their lives more than once. But this would not stand, and it it seemed that Rakiv would now have to address the issue of torture before all the officers. Things needed to change in Dormant Vengeance, but for now she had other problems to deal with.

The guildmistress exited the hut to find Ronjok in an uproar. Men and woman rushed to and fro with wooden beams, water jugs and all manner of materials to strengthen the village's walls. Jonah stood in the midst of it all and was busy calling directions to the villagers whilst consulting with Lonai.

"We've got a problem, elder," Rakiv called as she approached them.

"Yes, so I am told," Jonah said, a worried frown twisting his features, "And I am not certain that Ronjok can endure what is to come."

"Guildmistress, we recovered much from de 'erdsman's hut," Lonai explained, rifling through a clay jar filled with parchments and scrolls, "Nerashi tell us dat de 'erdsman not say anyt'ing in dese letters 'bout our cave entrance. Met'inkin' de Kournans know not'ing about eet."

"Good," Rakiv nodded and cast about quickly, "Where is Nerashi now?"

"I send 'er out on a scoutin' run," Lonai said, pointing out the village gate, "If'n de Kournans be comin', best we know 'ow many to be expectin'."

"Good point," Rakiv nodded, "And we'll need to be ready for them. Elder?"

Jonah rubbed his chin as he looked around. The walls of Ronjok were high, but they were made for keeping stray monsters and plant life out of the village. They could hardly withstand a siege, especially if the Kournans employed fire as a weapon.

"We have braced the gates and are soaking the outer walls now," Jonah said, "But this village is no fortress. If the Kournans are determined to take the village, there is little we can do to keep them out."

"We can bring a brigade o' guildsmen up from de caves," Lonai said, "Our archers don't nevah miss. Dem will keep da bastards out."

"I wouldn't do that," Kydar advised.

Rakiv blinked as she turned to look at the scribe, who sat in the dirt next to the large urn containing Chuno's belongings. The elementalist had many of the scrolls unfurled across his knees and was busy perusing the contents of a letter.

"Like Lonai said, Chuno didn't say anything about the Sanctuary," Kydar said, skimming the note, "He claims that Ronjok has been under Sunspear influence though, via threats and bribes… what he asked for was an occupation force to keep the village safe."

"And the army agreed?" Rakiv arched a brow at Kydar, "Since when do they care about the villagers' safety."

"They don't," Kydar chuckled, "This Captain Kayin refused protection forces until Chuno claimed that Ronjok was a major supplier for the guild. Kayin responded thaaat…" the scribe paused as he unrolled another letter and found the phrase he wanted, "Ah here it is, Kayin is sending a 'peacekeeping' force to confiscate Ronjok's supplies, conscript the village men and 'resettle' the remaining population."

"Soo… they have no idea that we're here," Rakiv said, scratching her chin thoughtfully.

"Yup," Kydar nodded, looking up from his scrolls, "And we might want to keep it that way."

"But 'im no makin' any sense," Lonai spoke up, "De Warmarshal done put an 'efty bounty on all our 'eads. Why not turn over de guild fer a big payday?"

"Because Varesh would never honor that bounty…" Rakiv concluded, grinding her teeth slowly in frustration, "She'd raze the village for harboring enemies of the province, and then launch an assault on the Sanctuary… But if he knew that…"

"Why remain loyal to a tyrant that you know is a tyrant?" Kydar finished for her.

Rakiv chewed her lip. For the guildmistress this betrayal became more disconcerting by the moment. It had been her conviction that her revolution prospered because the people of Kourna believed in it as much as her own guildsmen. The traitor in their midst now cast a shadow of doubt over this belief.

"It is my advice that we mull this over at a later time," Jonah spoke up, "The Kournans may be here any moment."

"Well we can't bring reinforcements up to defend the walls," Rakiv nodded, "But so long as we stay out of sight we can still support you. I'll have Alendra bring up arms and materials for barricades. Your men can use them and we can stay hidden."

"This… is acceptable," Jonah nodded, and then chuckled, "Your guild has done much fighting on behalf of our people, perhaps it is time we did some of the fighting ourselves."

"I'll see if any of your people can cast a few simple spells," Kydar grunted as he rose to his feet, "A little magic would help hold them off."

As the others spoke and discussed other methods of defense Rakiv stepped away from the group. The ranger tapped her guild emblem, opening the guild wide channel as she spoke into the amulet.

"Gold Eagle this is Lone Ranger, you there?" Rakiv asked.

There was a moment of static and then a scuffle on the other end before a voice answered her.

"Copy Lone Ranger, Gold Eagle here," Alendra's melodic voice came through.

"I need you topside, in Ronjok," Rakiv commanded, "We think we're about to see a raid, and I could use some of that tactical stuff you do. Grab some men and bring up enough weapons and armor for… thirty people. We're arming these villagers to fight back."

"Copy that Lone Ranger, I'll…" Alendra began, before static on the line cut her off.

"Lone Ranger, Gold Eagle this is Hawk Eye reporting from the field," a new voice broke in, "Do you read me?"

"Hawk Eye?" Rakiv blinked in surprise as she tried to place the voice to a face, "Oh! Nerashi? When did we start calling you Hawk Eye?"

"Everybody else had a code name," Nerashi replied, "I thought it prudent to use one as well."

"Uh huh…" Rakiv said, pinching her nose bridge at the nonsense of her guildswomen, "Anyway, what's your report?"

"I don't think you have a lot of time to prepare, guildmistress," Nerashi spoke up, "I'm standing at the Marga Dam, and I'm looking at three divisions of Kournan troops headed your way. They're lightly armed, but they're moving at a pretty quick march. Recommend you bar the gates and dig in."

"Dammit…" Rakiv grumbled through clenched teeth, "Alright, thanks for the heads up Hawk Eye. Circle around through Arkjok and come back to base. Don't get yourself captured out there."

"Understood guildmistress," Nerashi replied, "Hawk Eye out."

Rakiv snapped her emblem shut and ran a hand through her hair with a deep sigh. As always, things had quickly gone from bad to worse. The ranger contemplated her position and rubbed her chin thoughtfully. If she'd had more men and more time she might have been able to direct a brigade through the Sunward Marches and send them south to come to Ronjok's aid. But the guild was lacking in manpower as it was, and from Yera's report it seemed the Marches were no longer safe. Bringing men and arms up from the cave directly into the village was her second option, but Kydar had made a fair point.

Reinforcing Ronjok from within would give away the guild's position, and the location of the Sanctuary itself. At the moment Rakiv considered the loss of Ronjok to be more important than the Sanctuary's secret, but she knew that once Varesh learned where the guild made its headquarters she would stop at nothing to crush them. As they were now, Dormant Vengeance could not hope to stop an all out attack from the Kournan army. Again Rakiv ground her teeth as she stepped back into the village square where the others stood conversing with the elders.

"Nerashi spotted Kournan military on the coast," the ranger said, interrupting the others' conversation, "We have five, maybe ten minutes before they get here."

"Did she say how many?" Kydar asked, tugging worriedly at his goatee.

"Three divisions, all foot soldiers, lightly armed," Rakiv relayed, "We could take them… but we can't show ourselves… at least not if we have any other choices."

"There's no time for Alendra to get up here with those supplies though…" Kydar mulled, rubbing his temple as he closed his eyes in thought, "Some of the villagers on the wall can cast a handful of fireballs, but that's not going to be much help. What we need is reinforcements."

The group was silent as they considered their predicament. Rakiv turned from Kydar and looked to Lonai, who returned the guildmistress' gaze with a helpless shrug. The ranger turned her eyes to Jonah, and frowned curiously as a small smile began to tug at the elder's lips.

"I think…" Jonah said, "I think I can help with that."

"With what?" Rakiv arched a brow quizzically.

"Reinforcements," the elder responded, "It occurs to me now that Ronjok is not without friends… though they be friends of an unconventional sort. Truth be told, I do not imagine they will last long against Kournan soldiers… but they may buy us some time."

"Alright…" Rakiv said skeptically, "Well… how soon can they get to the village?"

"Oh, never fear guildmistress," Jonah grinned cryptically, "They are already here."

Kournan boots stomped in time to the beat of the marching drum, as the military brigade made its way through the Marga Coast. The brigade was made up mostly of new recruits, men and women who had been conscripted to serve their province. Boot camp and basic training had been tough, and the daily rigors had forced many of their fellows to withdraw from service. But these were the few and the proud who had made it through, and were eager to put their training into action. For many, this was not a career they had asked for, but there was great honor in being a soldier of Kourna, and in return for their service their families would be well looked after. Only a coward or a fool would refuse the Warmarshal's call, and these soldiers were neither.

At the head of the column, Commander Noss strode confidently forward as she led her troops towards their latest mission. Noss had hand-picked this group herself, after her request for a special task force had been vetted by General Morgahn. Recent developments in the war had led to a wealth of information on their elusive enemies, the terrorist guild called "Dormant Vengeance". Though many in the military had been sure that this Sunspear remnant would be easily crushed, the months of warfare had proved that this guild was beyond resourceful. Their cunning and brutality was unlike anything the military had yet faced. According to the rumors, even corsairs could not hold a candle to the sly savagery dealt out by this guild. Noss was convinced that the only means of conquering these miscreants was to respond in kind. Retaliation would have to be surgical and swift, and based on superior information gathering. The discovery of a willing informant within the guild had been a boon to her efforts, and she had worked closely with Captain Kayin of the 3rd Legion to make use of the mole's intel.

Though the informant had given them much that was useful, Noss had seized upon one particular scrap of intel. The village of Ronjok had long been a pebble in the Warmarshal's sandal. The rural community was stuck in their old ways, and continually sent representatives to the Tribunal to lobby against the Warmarshal's initiatives. The informant claimed that Ronjok was under occupation, with the threat of death hanging over their heads. He had asked for a rescue… but Noss knew better. Likely as not, Ronjok was complicit with these terrorist forces.

Noss wouldn't have been surprised if they'd been harboring the fugitives all along, using the guild as their sword in some foolish bid to overthrow Warmarshal Ossa. Kayin had decided it was time to bring their informant in, before the guild discovered they had a leak. But the Captain had left the fate of the village itself squarely in Noss' hands. It was good that he had, for the Commander's patriotism demanded that justice be done upon this village. These traitors to the homeland would pay for their treason, and feel the righteous wrath of loyal men and women. Noss vowed that the village would burn, her people slain and left staked in the desert, that all might know what became of those who dared betray Kourna.

With a wordless gesture Noss commanded the column to halt, and with a final beat of the drum the division stomped to a stop. The Kournan Special Task Force stood before the walls of Ronjok. The village's gates were shut up, and from beyond them there was only silence. Noss' eyes narrowed as she spotted some movement on the wall top and a flicker of robes shifting behind the wooden planks. The Commander took a step forward and swiped a finger over the logs of the wall, and tested the liquid between her thumb and first digit. Water; the wall had been well soaked in it, likely to prevent the wood from catching fire. The village had been waiting for them, which likely meant that the informant had been compromised. A pity, she decided, but of little consequence. The mole likely would have been executed once they'd learned all they could from him. Noss had little use for traitors, even traitors to a cause that was not her own. The woman pushed back the faceplate of her kettle helm and stared at the wall top with dark, angry eyes.

"Now hear this!" she called out, "This is Commander Anjira Noss of the 2nd Kournan Legion, ranking officer of the Kournan Special Task Forces. By order of Warmarshal Varesh, Ronjok is to be destroyed! This village has been convicted of acts of treason, conspiracy against the Warmarshal, and harboring of terrorists and fugitives. Her walls are to be burned, her structures leveled and her citizens to be brought before special tribunal and made to answer for their crimes."

With as much dramatic patriotism as she could muster, Noss drew her sword with a ring of steel and held it high in the air. The sun reflected off the blade magnificently, granting Noss the heroic emphasis she required.

"All who resist will face my blade!" the commander announced, "Show yourselves, treasonous dogs! That justice may be done upon you!"

There was no response from beyond the wall, nor any further movement amongst the battlements. Noss surveyed the wall top carefully, casting her gaze back and forth in search of any sign of life. Hairs rose on the back of her neck, as her warrior's instinct sensed some sort of trap. The commander unclipped an ornate oil lamp from her belt, and the magic focus flared to life with a flickering blue flame. Behind her the members of the Special Task Force raised their shields and brandished their weapons, preparing for whatever was to come.

"Ronjok is dead," a voice in deep bass spoke calmly.

Noss' calm focus was immediately undone, and she sprang back several paces in surprise. No one had seen the old man arrive, no footsteps had heralded his coming, and nothing on the wall top had moved. Yet there he stood, as though drawn from thin air, only a few paces from the commander herself. The man was a grisly and disturbing sight to behold. His face was covered in white paint that traced the outline of his skull and contrasted starkly with his dark brown skin. His eyes were black, unnaturally so, lacking even the normal whites that defined human eyes.

The clothing upon him was made of bits of hide strung together with bone and what appeared to be sinew… and Noss was certain that many of the hide patches were strips of human skin. A totem had been tied to his back, a pole bearing many human skulls that had been engraved with grotesque occultist symbols. Noss was further surprised when the man opened his eyes, revealing that he had painted his eyelids black to enhance the illusion that his face was a skull. His true eyes were deep brown, but his gaze was hauntingly focused, as though dominated by some terrible and arcane will.

"Stand aside sorcerer!" Noss demanded, pointing her sword-tip to his throat, "I've no patience for your parlor tricks!"

"Ronjok is dead," he repeated, "It was dead before you found it. Only the damned tarry here."

"The village is damned," Noss shouted angrily, "I will see to it that every man and woman within suffers the due recompense of their betrayal. Stand aside, I'll not tell you again!"

"You dare command a Voudun?" the dark man scowled, as he stepped forward towards her, "You think your orders have power here, mortal woman?"

Whispers slipped through the ranks behind Noss, as her men quailed at the name the dark man had uttered. The Voudun were boogey-men from Kourna's primeval history. They were the cultists and shadow men who wielded forces darker than demons, and grimmer than death. Voudun were capable of acts of unspeakable wickedness, acts that denied victims peace even in death. As the shadow man stepped forward, Noss' sword point pressed against his throat, the steel tip breaking skin and causing a small rivulet of blood to trace down the blade. The commander balked as she stared into the malevolent eyes of the shadow man… and suddenly realized this was no trick.

"Foul cretin!" the woman snarled and reared back her sword, intending to run the sorcerer through.

The blow never came, as the drop of blood fell from her sword's edge. The crimson droplet struck the red earth… and a truly wicked grin spread across the shadow man's face. Earth and soil shifted aside as wooden splinters burst from the earth at Noss' feet. The commander shrieked in alarm as a hand shot up from the dirt and caught hold of the woman's ankle. In a panic, Noss brought her blade down in an attempt to sever the appendage, but her attack was blocked… by an arm of serrated bone. With a deep, unearthly groan, a hulking Bone Horror dragged itself from its tomb and rose to its feet. The monstrous construct of rotting flesh and jagged bone stood before the commander, its bladed arm grating against her sword. Bits of wood from its coffin were still embedded in its torso, and when it growled at Noss the woman nearly fainted from the stench of its foul breath.

"Ronjok is dead!" the shadow man shouted as the skulls on his totem began to glow with unnatural green light, "It was dead when you found it, and it belongs to the dead!"

Noss' eyes widened as she soon realized the Bone Horror was not alone. All around them, and even amongst them the earth gave hideous groans as ancient tombs opened wide and gave up their dead. Horrors and Minions of grotesque proportions rose from their shattered coffins, and shambled towards the soldiers of the Special Task Force. The Kournans trembled and their shields and weapons rattled. The brigades quickly began to backpedal in terror, as the soulless goons rose from their tomb and quickly closed in to seal their doom.

"Ronjok is dead!" the shadow man repeated a final time, "And the dead keep it!"

"Raaaaah!" Noss shouted, as her courage suddenly returned.

With a quick, brutal kick the woman snapped the creature's leg at the knee, causing it to fall clumsily as it lost its balance. The commander gave a desperate cry as she brought her sword down on the zombie's head, and released a gout of black blood from its cranium. Noss kicked the body away and watched crumble to dust as decay reclaimed the animated corpse.

"To aaaaarms!" the commander cried, "We will purge this village men! To arms!"

Emboldened by the commander's show of force the Special Task Force retaliated. Swords swung and spears jabbed as the soldiers sprang into action, now eager to do what they had been trained to do. Though hideous and foul smelling, the bone minions were slow and clumsy, and proved to be no different than any other enemy. A well aimed sword strike and the creature fell, quickly dissolving back into the dirt from whence it came. Above the din of clashing swords and ringing shields, the shadow man's voice could be heard chanting dark incantations, his hands outspread as he called up more of the revolting undead.

"Shallow grave, unmarked by stone, bring to me your dead unknown," the shadow man commanded, "Bone Minion!"

A new wave of evil dead surged forth, clambering out of the ground and charging mindlessly into the fray. Beset on all sides by ravenous zombies, one soldier went down with a cry of agony as bladed bone tore through his armor and rent his flesh. Another failed to block an incoming minion, who barreled him over and sprang upon him. Enraged by the deaths of their comrades, the Special Forces fought harder, spilling brackish blood across the earth as they slew the undead defenders. Noss brutally kicked aside a slashed corpse and took stock of the battle field. Her soldiers were winning, and despite the shadow man's casting, his forces were dwindling. The commander strode towards him and raised her focus before him, the holy fire of her lamp illuminating his face.

"You've lost old man," she snarled spitefully, "Your dead could not stop me, and now no one will save you from your fate."

The shadow man scowled as he raised his totem, the green light from his skulls clashing with the blue of her lamp. His eyes remained resolute and unafraid as he prepared to duel the monk.

"You will join them soon, child," he growled deeply, "Today this village strikes back at the tyrant. Yours will be the first cruel blood we spill."

"Oh, is that so?" Noss laughed mockingly, "And who do you imagine is going to spill my blood old man? You?"

"No," he said, as his gaze shifted to peer over her shoulder, "Them."

Noss' eyes narrowed. She was sure it was a cheap trick, a ploy to deceive her into turning away and give the old man time to strike. It was the whistle in the wind that suddenly convinced her otherwise. Noss spun on her heel and raised her lamp, swiftly casting a blue aura of protection over herself. The incoming arrow struck her hard, hard enough to knock her off her feet, but the Reversal of Fortune protected the commander from harm.

"Ambush!" she cried out in warning, "To the west!"

The Special Task Force turned their formation just in time to identify their attackers. Dressed in Canthan armor, and wielding gleaming swords, a Zaishen battle squad charged out of the dry river bed. Their cry was fierce, and in moments Zaishen steel clashed with Kournan shields. The Special Task Force gave a cry of their own as they responded with their own weapons, and the real fight began. Amongst the battle priests, there were two who wore armor that was different from the rest. A pair dressed in the armor of Sunspear elites had joined the fray, and were quickly cutting and shooting their way through Kournan regiment. Though they were well trained and the best of their classes, the Special Task Force was no match for Zaishen elite. Screams and choked cries echoed across the fields as the Kournan Special Task Force was cut down, and soon their forces scattered. As the Zaishen gave chase, Noss too realized that it was time for a tactical retreat. Soldiers could be replaced, but without her command there would no longer be a Special Task Force.

The commander turned on her heel and broke into a sprint, meaning to make for the Gidara Fortress and requisition reinforcements. This slight would not go unpunished, and she would return with a force twice as large to raze this village to the ground. This open treason would be dealt with, these people would suffer. Unfortunately, the commander progress was suddenly halted, as a body collided with her and tackled her to the ground. Noss looked up into the drooling, reanimated face of one of her own soldiers, now an undead minion of the shadow man.

The woman shrieked and ran him through, but the corpse did not release her. Green magics began to swirl around him and Noss stabbed again, and again, yet still the corpse clung to her armor. In desperation Noss clutched at the armor straps, determined to free herself from the monstrosity. But it was too late, and as the corpse's eyes spouted green light, she knew her fate was sealed. In panic the woman's eyes shot up to gaze upon the face of the shadow man, whose countenance had softened significantly. The hate and malice was gone from his eyes, and his face bore only an expression of regret and pity.

"You have chosen poorly, child," he said calmly, the green energies spiraling around his totem, "Would that your leader had been worthy of such devotion."

"Damn you, traitor!" Noss cried defiantly.

"Find peace in the Mists, commander," the shadow man offered, as he stepped backwards and lowered his totem, "May Grenth have mercy on your soul."

The glowing corpse released a terrible howl that grew in volume and pitch as it clung tightly to the commander. In a burst of green light, the corpse violently exploded as the Death Nova spell tore it and its captive apart. The shadow man shielded his eyes as the shockwave washed over him. A moment passed and as the light receded he turned to look at the spot where the commander once stood. The bloody body of Commander Noss lay broken and severed in the sand, and in death she moved no more. The shadow man raised a hand and offered a silent prayer, and then waved his totem over her. An unnatural groan came from the earth beneath her as it opened once more and enveloped the commander in a new tomb before drawing her deep beneath the soil. Elder Jonah gave a sigh and wiped black paint from his eyelids as the gates behind him opened wide. Villagers peeked through, staring at the scene of carnage outside their walls as Rakiv and her officers strode through the gate.

"That was… impressive," Rakiv admitted and then chuckled slightly, "I gotta say, I think I was a little scared too."

"I agree, quite the thriller," Kydar added, applauding lightly, "I can think of a handful of theatre troops that would love to see you audition in Vabbi… ya know, if ever you get tired of this elder thing."

"Hmhm… yes well… it is not something I enjoy," the elder sighed, "Death is an ugly business… and the dead should stay dead."

"Gotta admit, that's a useful trick," Rakiv shrugged, and then turned aside, "Though it's a good thing you showed up when you did."

The guildmistress addressed the approaching squad of Zaishen warriors, and those who led them. Commander Koss wiped blood from his machete and slid it back into his shoulder sheath as Acolyte Jin recapped her quiver and slung her bow over her back. The Zaishen warriors stepped forward, pushing ahead of them several of the Kournan soldiers who had either been captured or surrendered. With practiced ease, the Zaishen forced the Kournans to kneel in the dirt, and gripped the captives by their hair. Steel rang once more as they lifted their swords and stood at the ready, awaiting further orders.

"Yeah, I'm glad we got here in time to…" Koss began to respond to Rakiv and then paused as he caught sight of the Zaishen, "Whoa, whoa! What are you doing?"

"Zaishen battle code," Jin spoke up, "We do not take prisoners. No enemy may leave the field of battle alive. Such is the will of Balthazar."

The Zaishen ranger strode to Rakiv, and after a quick bow to the guildmistress she retrieved a scroll from her belt and handed it to the other woman.

"However, by decree of General Yurukaro Kanjian, we are now under command of Guildmistress Rakiv Maelstrom," Jin explained, "We are to take our oaths of service to the guild, and obey all orders as given by the Guildmistress."

"Really now? Karo sent me my own squad of Zaishen huh?" Rakiv arched an eyebrow as she took the scroll from Jin and chuckled, "Well lucky me."

"They await your command senpai," Jin said, gesturing to the Zaishen who stood ready, their swords gleaming in the noon day sun, "What are your orders?"

Rakiv chewed her lip thoughtfully. She wasn't sure where they would keep five prisoners, much less whether or not the guild should spend the resources to feed them. But ordering the execution of unarmed men simply didn't sit well with her. Armed combatants she had no mercy for, and hunting enemy targets was almost second nature. But there was neither honor nor purpose in beheading a man kneeling in the sand, and so she gave a sigh and waved hand at them.

"Get some irons on them and take them below," Rakiv decided, "We might be able to get some information out of them, and find out how much the military really knows."

"What do they know? Koss asked, frowning in confusion, "And what's going on here? Why was Ronjok under attack? Is everyone alright?"

"We're all fine," Rakiv nodded, "We had a leak, but it's been plugged. Kydar can explain everything. For now, let's get this cleaned up and everyone back underground."

"Yes, guildmistress," the Sunspear warrior nodded, and turned to find the guild's scribe.

As Jonah made his way back into the village, he stopped as he noticed the eyes of his people upon him. The elder blinked in mild confusion, before he caught the expression of fear on their faces and remembered what he was wearing. The occultist attire was obviously unsettling, and he realized now that a long kept secret had been revealed. From out of the crowd, Guardsman Bahsi stepped forward, his eyes confused and his hand on his sword hilt.

"Elder…" the guardsman spoke carefully, "Are you… are you truly… what you said?"

Jonah sighed, as he produced a cloth from one of his many pouches and began wiping white make-up from his face.

"I was not always elder of Ronjok," Jonah spoke carefully, "And in my younger days I was many things of which I am not proud… and some for which I still pay penance. As a young man I was touched by Grenth, and learned the darker secrets that our people once knew. The magics I learned were things known only to a few, and spoken of only in whispers…"

Jonah unsnapped a clasp at his shoulder as he pulled the garment of hide and bones from his torso, and crumpled it between his palms. He dropped his totem and raised his face, now clean of the white paint that had marred his features.

"The custom of burying our dead outside our city gates was one begun by our forefathers, a ritual of safeguard practiced by the Voudun," Jonah explained, "It is done so that in times of peril, the bones of our ancestors will rise as our guardians to protect our village. It is a ritual I had hoped never to invoke… but I could not bear to see our village burn."

"Why did you not tell us of this?" Bahsi inquired, "What was the need for such a secret?"

"The necromancy of our people was not like that of other magics," Jonah sighed heavily, "The ways of the Voudun have been practiced by the elders of Ronjok for generations, but when I understood the darkness in them I vowed that these teachings would not be passed on. The secret would die with me… and Ronjok would be free of its curse."

"If it is a curse," Kydar spoke up, "It's a damn useful one. We might not have won today without you Jonah. These people would be dead or slaves, and the guild would be in danger. Way I see it, you're a hero here."

"Aye…" Bahsi nodded with understanding, "Aye that is true."

"I beg you," Jonah said, turning to the villagers, "Do not fear me. I am the same man you have ever known. I seek only to protect Ronjok, and all within her. I only do what I must, to keep her safe."

"And we'll do what we can to help with that," Rakiv put in, "I'll be sending soldiers up to start working with your people to make safe the village. There's a good chance the military might try again once that regiment doesn't report back. But first… there's the problem of Chuno."

"Ah yes… Chuno," Jonah sighed sadly, "It saddens me to think that he has done this… turned upon us so. And it discourages me, to think that he believed he was doing the right thing."

"I can't let him go free," Rakiv stated, "Not now. Not after this."

"No, no I know," Jonah nodded, "Chuno believed he was at war with you… and so he is yours to judge. I pray you… have mercy upon him… for the man he once was, the man that we knew."

Rakiv was silent. With the eyes of the village upon them, her next words might very well sway their opinions. Chuno's betrayal could not go unanswered, not if the guild was to remain secure. The ranger considered this for a moment, and then answered carefully.

"I am not the Warmarshal, this guild doesn't stand for tyranny," Rakiv decided, "We will hold a trial… and we will judge fairly."

"Thank you," Jonah nodded, closing his eyes and raising a hand in prayer, "May Grenth lend wisdom to your justice."

Rakiv bristled, but bit her tongue. This business of being politically correct was beginning to get to her, but she had begun to fear what an out of place word could do to the guild's image. Instead she gave only a curt nod and turned away to stride quickly out of the village square. Behind her she could hear Kydar offering reassurances, performing the delicate work of public relations. He was better with words than she was, and it was times like this that she was glad to have him in her employ. The officers had gathered behind her and followed her as she headed towards the tunnel gate.

"I'll hear your reports in a minute," Rakiv said, answering the questions that Koss and Jin had yet to ask, "But I want to get everything on the table in front of everyone first. Officer meeting in half-an-hour. Tell everyone else, get them together. We've got a lot to talk about."

"Yes, guildmistress," both responded in unison.

"Lonai, see to the prisoner arrangements," Rakiv ordered, "Nothing fancy, just find a cave that'll hold them and post a guard. Be careful, I don't want anyone getting hurt if these idiots try to escape."

"I will take every precaution," Lonai responded.

"Good," Rakiv nodded, and then waved a hand, "Dismissed."

The stone gate groaned open ahead of them, and the officers saluted before heading down into the tunnels. The ranger stopped outside and ran a hand through her hair. This was getting complicated, which was unsettling since it had seemed to be simple. Until now, until this it was all straightforward. Their fighting had been for a good cause, they had rescued hundreds of people… people who had been so grateful that they joined the guild to help support their efforts. It had all been so clear, they were the good guys, the Warmarshal was the bad guy, and she had assumed that all of Kourna knew it.

"Stupid…" Rakiv grumbled to herself.

A moment of reflection brought clarity of memory, and Rakiv remembered the letter Jin had given her. It bore a seal in wax from Yurukaro's signet ring, and Rakiv broke it as she unrolled the scroll. The ranger squinted at the script, written in common yet with distinctly Canthan penmanship. The letter read:

Sister Maelstrom,

I write to you not as one commander of men to another, but as one who has known you since we were both young. I have heard the testimonies and read the reports, and my heart has grown heavy. Kormir was a dear and beloved sister, and I can scarce believe that she…

Here the ink was smudged and unreadable, and Rakiv felt a lump catch in her throat. The parchment was marred by a large splotch where some liquid had struck the page… the remnants of a fallen tear. In all their years together, Rakiv had never once seen Yurukaro cry. The older woman had ever been the symbol of focused strength that Rakiv had always idolized, the strong older sister to their misfit family. Though she had been there, and seen Kormir's death, Rakiv now realized she had shed few tears for her fallen sister. There had been no time. Instead she had focused and pushed forward, fighting to save Kormir's soldiers and take up her sister's cause. As she read the letter she could feel her eyes beginning to well, but forced herself to continue.

It is with great admiration that I read your scribe's report, and have seen the courage and strength you possess even in the wake of such tragedy. Were it within my power I would be with you now, to strike down those who have taken so dear a friend. But through my prayers it has been revealed to me that vengeance will not be mine, for it is not mine to take. I do not understand it yet sister, but in my prayers I have seen a long and hard road ahead, for you and all of Elona. It has fallen to you, and you alone to see this deed through. Once we called Varesh sister… but now she must be stopped. Not for justice, not for vengeance… but for the good of the world. Though I am barred from coming myself, I have sent what help I can in the form of men, arms and supplies. As you will no doubt learn, most of my forces are needed in Istan, but I have sent you all else that I can spare. I pray for your guild, for your men, and for your very soul. Be strong sister, and go forth with courage and valor. No matter where your journey takes you, no matter what darknesses and evils you must conquer or endure… never, ever forget..

You never fight alone.

Signed, Karo

Rakiv blinked at the letter. It was easily the most informal document she had ever seen Yurukaro write. She hadn't even bothered to sign her full name. For a moment it was all too much, and the ranger sat down, staring numbly into the dirt. Somehow she had managed to push the real sorrow and pain of her sister aside, and channel it into focus and strength. But Karo's reaction brought it all back, the true weight of the death in their family. The ranger angrily wiped at her overflowing eyes. Tears be damned. But as she sat in the dirt, memories began to flow back to her. Memories of her sisterhood, what they once were, and the invaluable lessons they learned together.

The northern reaches of Turai's procession were wasted and desolate, bereft of life and covered in rocky sand for as far as the eye could see. This was to be expected when one traveled so far north. On the edge of the Desolation very little could grow, as the sulfur poisons still seeped into the soil from the north. Amongst the rocky crags and dunes, the clash of steel, the twang of bows and the whistle of spears could be heard on the wind. Battle cries and shouts filled the air, amongst savage shrieks and angry keens. Soon the sounds of battle lulled, and eventually only dead silence could be heard on the breeze. A party of young hunters stood amongst the ruins of a formerly occupied military outpost, one that had been taken by a harpy invasion, and had only just been reclaimed.

A quartet of young ladies stood over the bodies of their fallen enemies, all of them panting from their efforts and wiping sweat and blood from their arms and faces. The eldest of them bent down to clean her blade on the garment of a fallen enemy, whilst the others turned to face the few remaining harpies. The final squadron of bird men had formed up around their fallen leader, who lay in the sand bleeding heavily from a javelin wound. The human girls advanced, and brandished their weapons menacingly. Two of them were of darker skin than the others. One wore light armor with many gold accents, that left much of her chocolate colored legs, arms and abdomen exposed. The high heels of her sandals clicked in the rocky dirt as she held her shield before her and her kept her spear raised high. Despite her shining armor and petite stature, the spear wielder managed to appear quite intimidating for a sixteen year old girl.

"Stand down now, and we will show you mercy!" the paragon shouted.

"Oh of course, the same mercy they showed these soldiers," her companion snorted.

The younger girl was nearly as dark skinned as the paragon, but chose to wear her hair in short, beaded braids instead of the thick, curly afro her friend favored. A purple, ankle length skirt swished about her legs, and armored gauntlets covered her forearms. Her torso armor consisted of a cut off cuirass that bared her midriff and supported a deep hood that covered her head. Normally the fourteen year old felt that the hood only obstructed her vision, but for the moment it was proving effective for instilling fear in her foes. The dervish brandished her scythe as she advanced, intending to rend the harpies limb from limb.

"No," the eldest girl spoke, "Not if they can tell us where to find the birdman we seek."

The female warrior stepped between her comrades and the harpies, supporting a single edged, curved sword over one shoulder. The seventeen year old girl carried no shield, nor did she don a helmet. She wore a simple fauld of layered metal plates, and shod her feet with knee high, steel toed combat boots. Her left arm went bare, save for a simple bracer about her forearm. Her sword arm however was protected by a series of metal plates, that attached to a large pauldron on her right shoulder. The torso of her armor consisted of a gladiator esque combination of scale mail and lamellar leather, that left her left shoulder and much of her abdomen exposed. Her olive completion had been darkened by long days in the sun, and she gave a toss of her head to fling her long ponytail back over her shoulder.

"These birds brains would probably be willing to die before they told us anything," the fourth, and final member of their party chimed in, "We're not gonna get anything out of them Karo."

The voice belonged to the youngest of the girls, a pale skinned red-head who couldn't possibly have been a day over thirteen years of age. The shortbow she carried was flecked with droplets of blood, evidence from a kill made at short range. The young ranger rose from where she knelt next to a fallen body, and skipped to join her friends as she deposited a handful of arrows back into her quiver. The diminutive huntress wore the simplest clothing in the group. A corset of bonded leather straps protected her torso, and matched her short skirt that was made from the same material. Soft leather boots and gloves armored her extremities, and a necklace bearing a silver charm hung at her throat. The young archer paused to push back her flame colored hair, which she kept cut short to hang only to her chin, save for her bangs which she had allowed to grow long and kept bound in a single braid that hung over her freckled left cheek.

"We need information Rakiv, and we have no other sources," Karo replied, as she turned to the harpies, "So we will spare your wretched lives, if you tell us where to find the one called Thundershooter."

"Hrrak… y-you miserable cowards…" the injured commanding harpy screeched, "They're… they're just a lot of little girls! Kill them! K-Kill them now!"

"Then I guess Kormir's got a pretty good arm for just a little girl," the young dervish snickered, "It looks like that spear wound hurts."

"There's no need to mock an injured foe, Varesh," Kormir reprimanded, and then smiled "But thanks, I did think it was a pretty good throw."

"Hrrraaaak! Kill theeeem!" he screamed.

The harpies spread their wings and followed his orders, as they brandished their weapons against the small human females. The girls responded with stunning swiftness, and in a moment Karo and Varesh were among them. As sword flashed and scythe sang, Rakiv and Kormir skirted the battle and sent a volley of javelins and arrows whistling into the fray. The fight was over in moments, and as Karo kicked a dead harpy off her sword, she gave a disappointed sigh and turned to her team.

"Well, they went down quick… what do we do now?" she questioned.

"We still have him," Rakiv pointed.

Despite having ordered the charge, the harpy commander had tried to slink away himself during the fight. Bleeding as he was from his deep wound, he hadn't gotten very far, and the girls caught sight of him just as his wings disappeared between the barracks.

"Yeah, and he's not going anywhere," Varesh said as she strode quickly after him.

The escaping harpy gave a shriek of surprise when Varesh quickly caught up to him. Without hesitation, the young dervish raised her scythe over her head and brought it down into the harpy's leg. Amidst the raider's screams of pain, the dervish turned and made her way back to the party, dragging her hooked quarry behind her. Once he was back in the open, the dervish yanked her blade out of his flesh and pointed at him menacingly.

"Now who are you? And where is Thundershooter?"she demanded.

"Hraaak… I am called Windcutter.." he gasped, now cradling his crippled leg, "Gedoss… rraaak… Windcutter, commander of the Black Sky Flight."

"Well that's a start," Kormir nodded, before her brow furrowed, "But what of Thundershooter? We have heard that the harpy raids all across Kourna have been ordered by him. Where is he?"

"Hrk.. hrrah, ha, ha…" Windcutter laughed, his beak-like lips clicking mockingly, "You won't stop him… not this time human. We have formed the greatest harpy flight ever assembled! The Storm Flight leads us… to glory and victory. Our feathers will blot out the sun!"

"Oh good," Rakiv said as she grinned up at her companions, "That means we can fight in the shade for once."

"Not now Rakiv," Karo shook her head at her young subordinate and kicked at the harpy's boot, "You still haven't told us where he is."

"Krrraak! It is futile!" the harpy snapped, "You will fail! None can stand before Moteh Thundershooter!"

"Okay, that's it," Varesh sighed as she knelt in the dirt beside the injured commander, "Just so you know, we tried to be nice, but you asked for this."

The dervish drew back her hand and rigidly aligned her fingers. Before any could stop her, Varesh thrust her arm forward, ramming her hand into the open wound at the harpy's side. Gedoss screeched and writhed in agony, his wings beating furiously at the girl as she twisted her hand in his side.

"Where is Thundershooter!" Varesh barked.

"Rrkaaaa!" Gedoss screamed, struggling against the human girl, "Highborn bitch! You will fall! The flesh of Ossa will feed our young!" he shrieked hatefully through his pain.

"Now that," Varesh said, as she twisted her fingers again, "Is going to cost you a rib."

The girl curled her fingers around the bone, a movement that caused the harpy to scream and twist in pain. Ignoring his flailing, Varesh pressed a hand to his chestplate and began to pull, until a hand caught her shoulder.

"Enough!" Kormir shouted.

Varesh paused, and turned to look up at the older girl. Kormir was obviously disturbed at the sight of the harpy in such pain. The dervish stopped pulling, and Gedoss panted with relief at the brief respite.

"Enough?" Varesh asked, staring at her friend incredulously, "Enough! Kormir this… beast is a murderer! His flight slew the soldiers of this outpost! Good men died here! My father's men, Kourna's men were gutted like dogs by this monster!"

"I know," Kormir said.

"Do you!" Varesh snapped, "Those men were husbands, fathers, brothers and sons! There has been great weeping in Kourna for the deaths of these faithful soldiers. This pain is nothing compared to what he has caused!"

"That doesn't make it right!" Kormir insisted.

"It's not like he doesn't deserve it," Rakiv put in quietly.

"That's not the point!" Kormir cried, "This is a terrible being, a bringer of death and pain. And yes, he deserves to be punished, but not by us, and not like this."

"We just slew half a flight of harpy soldiers," Varesh contested, "And now you want to show mercy?"

"It's not about mercy!" Kormir stomped her foot, "We fight, we kill because we are forced to. Because evil creatures force us to end their lives, so that the lives of the innocent might be spared. That is duty, there is righteousness and honor in this."

"Oh boy…" Rakiv chuckled to Karo, "Here comes the righteousness speech."

The elder girl only flicked her sister's ear in reprimand, and to bid her to stay quiet.

"But this… there is no honor in this, nor is there purpose," Kormir said, "We are not judgers of souls or punishers of the wicked, we are protectors of people and saviors of freedom. And to inflict cruel tortures, to bring prolonged pain and suffering to any soul makes us no better than the evils we fight!"

"So what do you propose then?" Varesh grumbled unhappily, "We just forget all our training then? When we track down Thundershooter, should we ask him kindly not to burn the helpless villagers just to make sure we don't cause anyone any excessive pain?"

"Your mockery betrays your immaturity," Kormir chided as she shook her head, "Evil must be stopped, and it must be struck down with sword, and scythe and spear."

"And bow!" Rakiv chimed in, holding up her weapon.

"Yes, and bow," the darker skinned girl chuckled, before turning her attention back to Varesh, "But it must be struck down swiftly. If it is to be slain, kill it quickly and be done with it. By invoking your outrage with unrepentance for its sins, the evil seeks to ensnare you as well. Succumb to your fury and it will entangle you until you become that which you have so greatly despised and so passionately hunted. We are Khel Varr, we have a duty to this land, to the people… to the world. But we are not tormenters or torturers. Let us do our duty and do it well, lest in our rage we scar our own souls."

As always, Kormir's speeches left the girls silent and pondering the wisdom of her words. The paragon herself was left somewhat winded from the force with which she had spoken, and gave a shake of her head to dislodge stuck braids from her sweat streaked brow. A small grumble left Varesh's lips, but she had long since learned that argument with her older sister was often futile. Rakiv took in the words carefully, mulling them over before she turned to Gedoss Windcutter.

"Please," the young girl said, "We just want to save our people. Please tell us where we can find the Thundershooter."

"Krah, hah, hah…" Gedoss cackled wickedly, "Your companion speaks with much passion, but her weakness will not save you. Even now Thundershooter leads the Storm Flight upon the city of Jahai. He will rain down fire and lightning upon it… and purge your human filth from these lands forever."

The harpy dissolved into delirious laughter, as the blood loss took its toll. In a moment the sounds turned to death rattle, and Gedoss Windcutter breathed his last. Silence reigned over the outpost until Yurukaro sheathed her sword.

"Come, we must move out and quickly," Karo said with a nod to Varesh, "Your father will want to hear of this. We will have to move fast if Jahai is to be saved."

"Yes," Varesh nodded resolutely, as she picked up her scythe and rose to her feet, "No more of our people must suffer because of this mad campaign."

"Then let us go!" Kormir said enthusiastically, "Make Haste my sisters! We have much ground to cover."

"Just try and keep up," Rakiv grinned, "I'd hate to embarrass all of you by arriving a whole day ahead of ya."

Without waiting for her friends, the red head took off, her natural stride carrying her in long bounding leaps away from the ruined outpost and out across the plains. The dervish, paragon and warrior were not far behind, dashing in the young ranger's wake as they sped south through Turai's Procession, praying to the gods they would make it in time.

In her deep reflection, Rakiv now wished she had better understood those words. It was only years later that she grasped their true meaning… and by then it had been too late. She now wished that Varesh too had understood Kormir. The paragon had always seen things differently from the others, in a way that Rakiv had never quite been able to. It had always been as though Kormir could clearly see the truth of matters even when her sisters could not. It was a support that Rakiv had learned to rely on… it was a gift of her sister's that she desperately missed now.

Movement among the rocks caught her attention and she quickly rubbed her face against the back of her sleeve. Guild morale was low enough without her men seeing their guildmistress blubbering like a schoolgirl. The steady crunch of boots on sand approached her and soon it rounded the corner into the narrow pass that led to the cave entrance. A shadow blocked out the sun and she turned her eyes up to blink at the tall form of Kydar Raelesin. The elementalist arched an eyebrow at her, but said nothing and instead lowered himself to sit on the ground in front of her. There was silence between them for several long moments, and it was broken only once Kydar spoke.

"You want to talk to me," he stated.

"I do," she responded.

"About how I handled the herdsman," Kydar surmised.

"He was a civilian, Kydar," Rakiv glared at him.

"He was leaking information that was vital to the guild," Kydar responded, "We lost lives because of him. We almost didn't make it past Morzek because of him. Our intelligence network is down, and our spies are captured or worse, because of him."

"And that justifies torture?" Rakiv asked.

"Time was of the essence," Kydar responded, "Every day, every minute was precious. That leak threatened not just the guild, but all our allies as well. This was not a situation where we could afford to just ask around to see if anyone had happened to see an informant that was telling all our secrets."

"That doesn't make it right!" Rakiv snapped.

"It made it necessary," Kydar replied evenly.

"Dammit Kydar!" Rakiv cried as she sprang to her feet, and for once was able to look down at the elementalist, "Do you realize that this kind of thing is exactly what we're fighting against! You've been there at every mission, every time we liberated people from Varesh's dungeons and prisons. You saw what was done to them and you condemned it just like the rest of us. And then I find that you're employing the exact same methods in the name of the guild!"

Kydar was silent, his hazel eyes holding the furious gaze of his superior officer. Without any response from her subordinate, the ranger went on unchecked.

"How does that make us different, hmm?" Rakiv demanded, "How can we win this war if we are the same as our enemies? This isn't a fight for turf and soil, this is a fight for people! For lives and minds and souls, Kydar! Demons and gods be damned, this is about saving people. And if the people of Kourna… no, if the people of Elona can't expect us to be better than Varesh, then we are every bit as foolish as she is! She's out to bring down the gods. Guess what, I'm not a fan of them either! But waking up a mad deity to take their place isn't the way to fix the problem! If we do the same things she does to the people we call "enemies", we replace her as the tyrants! That is not what we're fighting for! That is not what I came here for! That is not what Kormir died for!"

The ranger panted as her tirade came to a halt, the mixture of wrath and sorrow leaving her winded. Again her eyes began to well, and she wasn't sure she could stop them this time. Breaking into tears like a little girl would hardly validate her point, especially not while reprimanding an officer, but there was almost nothing she could do about it. Before the first tear could fall however, Kydar suddenly shifted positions and looked away from her. Bowing his head low the elementalist knelt in the dirt, planting one fist on the ground while placing his other hand on his knee. Rakiv blinked in confusion, and wiped at one cheek as the scribe spoke.

"Then forgive me guildmistress, I have failed you," he said, keeping his eyes on the sand at his feet, "In my travels, I was taught that when push comes to shove, you do whatever you have to, to make sure you aren't the one that gets knocked down. But you're right. If… if the guild isn't better than this, then we've already lost."

The ranger was astounded. Normally the scribe was so combative, there was always some new logical argument or explanation to be made. Yet here he knelt, like a knight before his queen, asking forgiveness for his transgression. For a long moment there was silence, and still Kydar did not look up, until Rakiv finally sighed.

"If you know that… why did you do it?" she asked, "What kind of scribe can so easily rationalize that? How do you… get over it?"

"You might have noticed, I'm not your ordinary scribe," Kydar chuckled lightly, "I learned early on that there are times when you do what you must… and pray that afterwards the gods will forgive you. I believe that my actions may have saved lives in this guild… but I am sorry that it may have cost us our good name."

Rakiv chewed her lip thoughtfully. He had a point… but at the same time he didn't. There were better ways to have handled it, and Rakiv pondered what she ought to do with him as an officer.

"At the moment, it's not the gods' forgiveness I'm worried about though," Kydar said, still not looking up, "Do what you have to… but I ask that you give me the chance to redeem myself… to prove to you that I understand why we fight, and what we're fighting for."

Wonderful, now he was getting dramatic on her. One could hardly say no to such a repentant officer, but she still wasn't sure she could let him off so easily.

"I thought you were just here to record all this?" she noted, and then shrugged, "Being an officer was a formality you know, cause you happen to be pretty good at getting things done. What's the position to you anyway?"

"Begging your pardon, guildmistress," Kydar said, finally looking up, "But I didn't chase you to into a war-zone just to record your exploits."

Rakiv narrowed her eyes at him. Now he was playing games… or was he? The steady, confidant look in his eyes said he wasn't, and that he was as serious about this as he had been about protecting them from a security leak. The ranger clicked her tongue, holding back the obvious, unspoken question. Instead she sighed and shook her head as she shooed him away.

"Go. Make sure the officers are ready for the meeting in the mess, I'll be down in a bit," she said, and then paused to glare down at him, "And if you tell anyone that you saw me…"

"Saw you what?" Kydar asked abruptly, as he rose to his feet and dusted himself off, "Saw you chastising me like an unbeaten child? Wouldn't dream of it. Too embarrassing, it'd seriously damage my street cred… or, cave cred rather."

"Ugh..," she groaned at the pun, and shook her head, "No I mean, don't tell anyone you saw me…"

"Begging your pardon, guildmistress," Kydar interrupted again, "But I don't believe I actually saw you do anything else."

Rakiv was silent for a moment, finding she was relieved, thankful and frustrated with him all at once. She clicked her tongue skeptically, and Kydar only chuckled slightly and saluted.

"Will that be all guildmistress?" he asked.

"Yes, that will be all first officer," she sighed, and waved him off.

Kydar beat a hasty retreat into the caves, and Rakiv watched him go. There was something intangibly infuriating about that man. She had meant to give him more than just a yelling at, and she found herself wondering how he had escaped her wrath so easily. For now, however, she decided to let it go. If he stepped out of line again, she'd deal with it then. At the moment, there was a meeting to tend to, and much to discuss. The ranger rolled up Yurukaro's letter and stuffed it into her belt. After how their morning had gone, she hoped her officers had some good news for her.