South of Windstorm

[LucienMoonmist]

*He had watched the exchange, his bow always ready to send an arrow into flight. Easily he could have picked off the frank as the spear was being thrown. Easily he could have sent an arrow into that spear to deflect it away from Dorian. He did not. As the blade ripped through the beast of a commander, Lucien spoke a single word to the elves about him. In unison their bows were lifted and a volley of arrows landed in a semi circle around the rear of the frank commander. As they did this, the other elves readied their bows for more lethal strikes. It was a simple warning to the other Frank troops. They were not to involve themselves. It was a matter for them both to end.*

[Dorian Hawkmoon]

He could not have stopped Himself , even had He wanted to...indeed when He would look back upon this day, He would feel neither remorse, nor chagrin...for He had seen ....something.....within this man....and He had seethed inside, knowing only that this one MUST die. He would have rather met this....zealot....in an honourable battle.....decided by the strength of their steel....and the steel within their hearts. But the Frank's treacherous madness had made that an impossibility. His cheek and ear throbbed and burned.....He felt the lifeblood flowing down from the wound....but of pain, He felt little....briefly He wondered if He still possessed His ear, but pushed that thought aside as He swung a backhand cut at the wrist of the hand still holding the sword. The keen edge cut smoothly through the flesh and bone, sending the sword spinning to the ground....the hand still clutching at the hilt.. He looked now, deeply into the dying man's eyes....and still his madness burned there....then spoke...

"I shall give Ye that which Ye nae deserve, foul beast that nae deserves t'be called a man...for thy men deserved better than what Ye led them to...."

The Dragon Katana sang once more it's deadly song...the ancient blade of His Father once more tasting flesh, blood and bone...as He neatly severed the man's head.....thus ending His madness, and the pain of a slow death. His dagger is returned to its sheath, then His hand grips the hilt of the longsword, wrenching it free from the dead body...watching it topple to the ground lifelessley. Both blades once more in His hands, He turns to face the one named Josserand.

"It ends, Monsieur Josserand....I have nae wish t'kill Ye...order Thy men t'disarm...now...or by the Lords of Law, nae a one of ye shall see thy homeland again. Divorce Thyself from Thy commander's madness or die. Ye and Thy men shall be treated well....in accordance with the laws of chivalry...Ye have M'word as Knight, both of Windstorm and of the Crimson Order...."

Silently He stands at the ready....awaiting the Man's reply....

[Josserand de Nanteuil]

With more relief and satisfaction than he would admit to openly, Josserand de Nanteuil watched as the man who had led them here, who had set powers into motion against them, far beyond anything they had anticipated – the neat ring of arrows around them spoke of men who were keen warriors yet maybe not men at all – and who had seen no reason but his own obsession, died like a rabid dog at the hands of the enemy’s leader.

After the deed was done and this so-called Crimson Knight addressed the remaining survivors, Josserand diverted his gaze away from the blood-soaked body of Manassier, and met the eyes of the victor with calm. He motions for the survivors to drop their swords as he already had done before Manassier had charged headlong into his own grave.

Then Josserand sank kneeled on one knee, his eyes still fixing the leader of the guards. “Qui, the battle is over. Neither me or those others with me will fight you any more. You have won, we trust that your vow to treat us with dignity will hold. The filed is yours, Monsigneur!”

Looking down, Josserand couldn’t see how the remainder of the Frank excursion force also sank down to their knees, eyes cast down, awaiting their fate which likely would cast them into the castle’s dungeons, to be kept there for either ransom, or to be used as pawns against their own leader, Lord de Sennis.

[LucienMoonmist]

*Lucien watched the weapons of the remaining Frank troops be thrown down. He turned to Ascillia, speaking a soft word to her, she turned and moved along the gathering of the Elven. A score others followed her as she and they began a run to the North, to the other station of Elven soldiers. Lucien turned to regard the situation at hand. Dorian was injured, nothing that would slay him immediately. He was wise enough to seek prompt treatment. Casting his gaze to Dorian, he nodded once, letting his bow arm rest for the first time in many day. Turning, The gathering of Elves moved with him, dividing themselves into two groups near evenly. One moved towards the bodies of their fallen, to gather and prepare them for their eternal passage. The second, led by Lucien, moved towards the flames of the woodlands. It had been allowed to burn for to long. They would work their skills of wood and stone, severing the flames from any further source of growth, then extinguish those they could to douse the Hell which had crawled across the once peaceful Haven of green.*

[Robert Allen Windstorm Guard]

Corporal Allen had climbed up to the Ramparts, Questiong those he found there of the castle guard that had remained to fight off any attack that might have broken through the Windstorm Defense lines and found that Lord Hawkmoon was very probably south of the Castle with most of of his comrades fighting the Frank Invaders. He strode from the Castle and ran for the stables, saddling up his destrier, riding out of the courtyard grumbling while he waited for the gates to open and allow him to pass. Windrider pranced nervously, the impatiance of his rider tramsmitting to him along the reigns.

When the Gates were opened, spurring Windrider on he turned south after passing over the draw bridge riding thru the outskirts of the village and into the open lands beyond. Smoke could be seen rising up high over the forests informing Allen of the fires that burned there. As he left the immediate lands of Windstorm behind signs of what had occured could be seen along the road. The carts of injured being returned to the castle. Some greviously injured from wounds they would never fully recover from. Others who's wounds would take them from their homes and loved ones and deliver them up to the Heavenly Fathers arms to wait upon Judgement Day.

These he raced past until cresting a knoll, he looked down upon the encircled enemy just as they began dropping their weapons. His heart rose at seeing which forces were in control. The remainder of Frank Army had been soundly defeated. From His perch atop the rise he could see at the center of the encircled group a tighter group of tuniced warriors, some Frank some Windstorm At the center of that, the black garb of Lord Hawkmoon. His Captain could stand out in any crowd.

Cpl Allen's eyes were caught by movement of a group of figures separating from Lord Dorian's sphere. Men in garb of green and grey. He recognized the garb having seen it worn so often around the castle by one Man of his knowing, Lord Lucien. The group split in two directions. Striking off down the hill, Allen knew that he had first to report to his Captain before going in search of the Archer. But first he had to wait while his Commanding Officer finshed his business with the Franks.

As he rode down into the valley and grew closer to the main body of Windstorm Troops, he stopped one of the green-grey dressed archers as they went about gathering their fallen comrades. Stopping one for a moment he asked one of the Archers if He knew Lord Lucien and where he would be found in a few hours time. He was shocked to discover as the archer raised her head that he looked down into the most clear violet eyes he had ever seen. With her her cornsilk hair drawn back from her face her elven heritage could be quickly established by the delicate points of her ears and the artful sweep of her brows. In a clear cool voice she told him that Lord Lucien had headed into the Forest to dowse the flames that ate at the very heart of it and that he would be hard to track. It was best that He remain here until the Scion returned. The way the Elven woman had spoken of Lord Lucien with such reverence puzzled and brought other questions to mind. But they would have to wait until a later time.

After thanking the Female archer, he turned his attention to the battlefield his eyes scanning for any possible underhanded movement from the Franks. For now he would have to wait until his Commander was able to see him and from the looks of things that might be some time.

[Robert Allen Windstorm Guard]

-Seeing his Commander would be some time, Cpl Allen sought out the second in command while Lord Hawkmoon parlayed with the Frank Officers. Giving a verbal report of what had occured he asked permission to seek out Lord Moonmist to inform Him of the Lady's status, with the thought that mayhap He would have other means available to seek out the lady where Cpl. Allen had failed.

After assertaining if there wasn't any immediate need for fighting men, the Second gave permission to the Corporal to carry on and go and seek Lord Moonmist. Giving a strong salute to the officer, Cpl. Allen turned about on his heel and went to collect his mount. After taking the reigns of Windrider, he trailed the mount behind as he walked along seeking out again an Elven archer. It was not hard to find them as they lay out those with reverence, the brave kin that would no longer run with the forest creatures. Cpl Allen stood quietly until he was approached by one of the grey-green garbed beings.

He recognized the violet eyed Elf as the one who he had spoken to before telling her that it was imparative that He find Lord Moonmist. She told him that the Scion had not returned from the burning forest areas as of yet, but if the need was dire then to ride into the forests toward the fires. He would run into other elves fighting the blaze the would tell him where to find Lord Moonmist. Thanking the elven woman, he climbed into Windrider's saddle and rode out of the camp and into the woodlands. It would have been impossible to trail one of the Elven kin, so Cpl. Allen literally followed his nose as the scent of woodsmoke led him deeper into the woodlands.-

[Robert Allen Windstorm Guard]

-By the time Cpl. Allen had found his way to the fire zone, the blaze had been completely extinquished and there were no trace of Lord Moonmist or his kin. A dark feeling of fury grew inside him for not having arrived in time. He had no recourse but to return back to where the armies had camped. He set his mount at a gallap and thundered back along the trail. He made better time back the way he had come and in half the time he found himself riding into camp. As he rode his mount to the picket line, he saw that Stepper was no longer among the other horses. He truely begun to believe that the Lord had cursed him to have his luck turn so bad. Stopping one of the squires he ask "Toby, in what direction went the Captain?" The towheaded squire looked up to him and reported, " The Captain be heading back to the Castle." Hearing this Robert turned his mount and spurred it into action. The road back to the castle flew under the hooves of Windrider. As the milestones dwindled down their count and cresting over the final rise, the gates of the castle came into view.-

[Midnight]

Getting a wild hair into my system I decide to leave the castle and head into the woods south of Windstorm. Staying to the trees I stop for a moment and sniff at the air and something on the air catches my attention that being the smell of blood. I leap among the trees following the scent as it appeals to my present hunger. Suddenly I stop and leap down to the ground and let out a cat's hunting cry which is still enough to curdle a person's blood.

I start to run now my large paws seemingly make no noise as I run I suddenly skid to an abrubt hault as I see people now and the scent of the blood is stronger now. I slowly approach not knowing who most of these people are though one scent among them is familiar to me. I follow the scent of Dorian till I find him