\| Divided Paths |/ - Chapt. 3 - Resolute - Biome (IC)

The attempt to reach the faulty gravity beam and get off of the planet quickly was abruptly halted when Ravage’s group suddenly reached an enormous vertical wall. Xenos skidded to a halt, dry dust rising off of the ground in clouds, as his master clenched her beak tightly and suppressed the urge to swear at the terrible turn of luck. The odds were not very good, and her soldier’s intellect told her this as she assessed the situation. Instinctively, she could sense the danger, and her feathers stood on end, her nostrils flaring. She had let her guard down once, but now she was wary of anything that came close, her olfactory senses would let her know of nearby creatures long before any sort of visual contact was made.

Numbers-wise, Ravage’s group had an advantage, but combat-wise, they were in a vulnerable state, and running was their best option. Xenos was a gigantic apex predator, the usually-fatal blasts of plasma and other energy weaponry would at most create a large open wound, but they wouldn’t kill him. The spiromander’s skin was too thick to be pierced by a regular blade, but blunt blows would still bruise him. Xenos was faster than most creatures, and his claws and teeth were deadly. His eyesight and sense of smell made it possible for him to know long before anyone else if something was coming, but it was only useful if he was on guard, as he was now, in-tune with Ravage’s own worries.

Ravage, after having nearly been killed by the disease contracted on Maozhu, despite her rapid recovery after receiving herbal treatments, had suffered a complete breakdown of the mutagen in her cells, which had been responsible for rapid adaptation and accelerated healing. Her healing capability, while still much more rapid compared to an average Chimerosu of any variant, was still delayed enough where she could no longer ignore damage she took in battle. One of her arms was broken, and flight was not an advantage on this planet. She was very strong despite the loss of muscle tone that she had managed to gain through rapid healing, but Chimerosu anatomy in itself, while possessing bones that were made of much stronger materials than terrestrial beings, were hollow, and still much more fragile. Her metallic cutting claws were much less useful than what they had once been.

Rune, despite his apparent willingness to fight, as seen when he engaged Liirlith in combat and was not disturbed by the concept of taking their lives, was still not anywhere near Ravage’s capabilities, even when she was suffering a broken limb. He only had bladed metal gloves, and while he could have learned the techniques Ravage used, given time, they were not retractable like hers, and he could not conceal them, nor could they cut as well. He was only adolescent, and his horns were mere stubs, they would still need several years to grow, as his Pavolite genetics still needed to work against the Thundarian absence of horns. He was not in his prime yet, he had not achieved the weight, size, or power of a fully-grown male. Rune’s most useful abilities was his power to produce blinding light that could easily overload even Ravage’s eyes, and his high intelligence, the power to understand psychology and how enemies might think.

Querois seemed inept for fighting, no matter what angle Ravage viewed him from. True, his tentacles could be flung like whips, and had sharp barbs at the very tips. In addition, his grip was far more powerful than any other being was capable of, his many suction cups would rip any weapon out of any attacker’s hand, most likely without fail, unless they were forced to the ground by the sheer strength. Querois could change patterns on his skin and pass as foliage, and he could also move rather quickly, using the uniquely adapted scales and muscles on his belly and tail to cling to surfaces, even ceilings and walls, if the need arose. Querois was very smart, but only knowledge-wise, not so much capable of identifying intentions on the spot like Rune. The lines of scars on his belly and under the wing-like tentacled fins that made Wereans unique, and the very fact that Querois was male, indicated that he was weaker than other members of his species, however.

Ravage glared into the forest, before hissing, “Think, think! We need a solution, here!” She said, practically spitting the words.

Querois giggled, “Time to prove my usefulness!” He said, before slowly crawling off of Xenos’ saddle and onto the ground.

She looked sharply at him, “What do you intend to do?” She asked.

“Mind if I take these?” He asked, picking up a leaf from the ground, before suddenly and unexpectedly plucking a feather from Ravage’s and Rune’s manes with separate tentacles, a third gathering some of the slime from Xenos’ back, while a forth plucked a loose scale from one of the crown-like gill-slits on his head. The two Chimerosu winced and sharply reacted to the movement.

“What are you planning, Querois?” Ravage demanded, rubbing the spot the feather had been plucked from with her good hand, suddenly more annoyed than angry.

Querois wrapped a tendril around a plant that was growing up as a sprig, breaking the stem and leaves so that a strange yellow sap seeped out, as he wrapped the objects inside of the plant matter. “See this plant? It contains special proteins in it that are a lot like certain hormones and pheromones, and generally, signals communicated by scent do not vary much from planet to planet or between species.” He said.

“Your point,” Rune pressed, looking at Ravage, “We will talk of the reason for running later,” He said aside to her.

Querois giggled fiendishly, “Oh, very simple. I am counting on the bizarre patchwork environment of this planet. It will buy us some time to get past this wall, if possible.” He said, before laying the sap-soaked package out where the winds could easily reach it. He quickly dipped the sap-soaked tentacle into a pile of dirt by a set of tree roots, coating it to remove the sap.

He then looked over at Ravage, “What do you think would happen,” He began, “If I made our enemy smell like a female in heat to all of the male predators within a two-mile radius of here?”

Survivor chuckled lightly as he followed. He crossed his arms and moved his fingers with in them.

"Oh trust me from what I have seen of that ships crew. A stick breaking could send them running for the hills. I know for a fact they would not survive three minutes on the deathtrap known as my species homeworld."

Survivor said as he imagined the Xenoqqi trying and failing to fight a Xarkes. Ah it is a hilarious picture.

"Hm." Krevozs muttered something, before proceeding cautiously through the opening in the foliage. There, laying before him on a wide open tract of mud, dirt and grass, was the Xenoqqi craft. He saw a few guards patrolling the outskirts of the open wounds in the hull, but these were only a very few.

"I'll take my pick. Grab two or three of those sentries, ask which one has information on the whereabouts of my ship, and kill the others." He said to Survivor. With that, he deftly sprinted along the fringes of the forest, circling around the patrol routes of the sentries, until he was able to approach them from behind. With his large frame, it would be foolish to approach them in the open, despite his speed and strength. Stealth would be his sure ally. As he neared the sentries, he could tell, even from a distance, that they were nervous. High strung. That would make things more chaotic, as they would certainly be inclined to shoot at the slightest hint of danger.

Gently now he stalked his prey, coming in under the shadow of the Forge Hulk, until he was able to take one of the Xenoqqi guards by surprise, twist its weapon away, and pull it back in under the darkness of the vessel. Krevozs then waited for Survivor to do the same.

Jaci peered cautiously from out of the foliage. Lifting his head, he sniffed the wind a little, then began to move. He had seen the huge Xenoqqi craft crash land, and was carefully making his way there to investigate. If it represented a threat, or a potential source of supplies, it would be good to know about it.

Jaci's existence was governed more or less by one thing, the need to survive. There were many dangerous creatures roaming this area, and most of them were more than a match for Jaci in terms of raw strength. However, Jaci had survived, mostly through cunning and careful discretion. He wasn't the strongest creature here, but he was certainly amongst the smarter ones, which helped immensely.

As he advanced, a crashing sound caught his ears, causing him to pause. He cocked his head to one side, listening. It was definitely coming in his direction, and would pass close by. He sniffed the air again, and then stiffened. He recognized that smell. It was that brute, 673, although Jaci himself knew no name for the creature. Quickly, Jaci crouched down amidst the foliage, barely daring to breath. Hopefully, 673 would be too intent on whatever his target was to notice Jaci hiding there.

Survivor rolled his eyes as he watched Krevozs sneak and take out a guard. Not wanting to be outdone he jumped into the trees and ran through them to a point where he can jump onto the ship. He scoped out the area and found two guards off to the side. He jumped down and took them down with great ease. He then dragged them silently into the ship and over to Krevozs laying them in front of him.

"So how was that?" Survivor said moving his mechanical fingers.

"T-tell me wheere you got-t th-those."

The Xenoqqi technician eyed Braaj warily, surprised slightly by the semi authoritative tone (even if it was marred by the stutter) from the Xenoqqi widely known as a timid person. Looking back at the plastic fibroid bag at his feet, the underling thought it best to obey the Negotiator lest he draw the ire of Ifka to himself.

"I-I just took them sir, Jiikavor was already dead so I couldn't help him and I thought they might be useful but-"

Braaj held up a hand as he pulled one of the objects out of the bag. A clear many-sided polygon filled with fine machinery, the device glowed an evil red made even more apparent by the shade the technician's makeshift shelter cast over it.

"Why didn't y-you tell usss you had taken these? We had thought these were lost-t in the c-crash."

The technician, stuck in uncertainty stayed silent.

"Nnever m-mind, it iss good you found th-them. I'll see t-to it that Iffka is not too harsh in your punishment for withholding these from uss."

With that Braaj left, ducking back out onto the grassy field. He hoped that among the newly retrieved data cores he held in the bag there was one specific one intact. His prior trip to the armoury had got him thinking after all.

With so little soldiers many would think we were unable to properly defend ourselves. Braaj thought to himself. But what we do have in abundance are engineers and technicians, which are good at fixing things...

An uncharacteristic skip in his step, the Negotiator headed off to where Ifka was now instructing her crew on the basics of firearms.
________________________________________________________________________________

Once again 673's sensitive nose alerted him to a change in his surroundings, his gait slowing to an uncertain stop. The unusual blood scent was now muddied with a much more familiar odour, one belonging to a certain thorn in his side. The smart one, the one responsible for riddling him with arrows more times than the Hithe could count.

For the first time in weeks, 673 spoke aloud, a harsh, raspy growl emanating from between his jagged lips.

"I smell you, meat."

The wind changed, swirling the smells in the air. Grunting in irritation, 673 scanned the surrounding trees with all of his four eyes, his nose no longer able to pinpoint his prey's location. His body visibly tensing for either attack or chase, the Hithe grinned in anticipation, baring his disturbingly even teeth.

Jaci tensed. The hulking creature knew he was there. It's manner showed that it didn't know exactly where he was, but who knew how long that would last? Throwing caution to the winds, Jaci sprang up and rushed up the nearest tree. Perching on a strong branch, he fumbled with his bow and arrows.

673's rearmost left eye caught Jaci's escape. With a howl the Hithe ripped the large jawbone blade from its holster on his back and threw it, the weapon spinning as it flew towards its target.

There was thud and the sound of splintering wood. 673 grinned as a thick red liquid dribbled down the trunk, signalling to him the death of his prey. Not bothering to inspect it closer, the Hithe drew his knife and made his way over to the tree, intent on carving out Jaci's skull for yet another trophy.

((Read my OOC post))

Absolute News Network - Breaking News Reports:

A search conducted in the seating arrangements lining several buildings in Nexarz' fourth district yielded a single, emptied casing. Forensics teams have determined it to be a rather old type of plasmatic shell, distinct for its ability to hold compressed hydrogen gas. Free Absolute military spokespersons have reported that it belongs to an experimental rifle, one that was supposed to be more reliable in the field, with an automatic targeting system. However, the design of the weapon's firing chamber and the competing guidance sources did not work firmly in unison, and the electric field meant to control the gas bolt fired from the rifle would rarely hit where it was intended, and so the weapon prototype was discarded. However, there have been reports that Purist groups have gotten a hold of these prototype rifles, and it may be that a Purist was the one responsible for the assassination attempt. Groups at the Resolute Complex are at this moment working tirelessly to find our suspect. Keep tuned in for the latest reports.

"The Purists are the perfect scapegoat for this," Vasorin angrily exclaimed after reading over the news report on his HUD. "There's still controversy regarding what happened on Ekest. The Alkisuns found the perfect entity to blame the assassination attempt on." He folded his arms, frowning. "I wonder..." His voice echoed throughout the luxurious chamber, decorated with ancient Ryun artifacts and illustrious works of art. This was the executive suite on the enormous Kelvae Station about Ieegar, an area reserved for Grand Council members in the past.

Netheun, standing next to his seated father, nodded. His eyes were closed, his mind locked in deep thought. "The Alkisuns didn't try to murder Emperor Xonoc to prove they could get away with it. They're trying to distract the Confederacy from something."

Vasorin closed the report, staring his son down with his biologically functioning eye. "Considering the information you obtained, they're likely creating chaos in the Free Absolute military to lead to a tactically favorable situation for their own armed forces." He paused, as if in doubt. "Do the Alkisuns have the capacity to engage in a direct, large-scale battle with the most powerful military in the Confederacy, though?"

"Unfortunately..." Netheun sighed, "They do. The Alkisuns have a smaller force, which is likely less technologically advanced, but on average they're likely better trained and much more brutal. The Free Absolute wouldn't think of leveling an entire city to kill one important target due to their moral standards and the potential for backlash. On the other hand, the Alkisuns wouldn't even hesitate. We also don't know who they have working for them on the inside of the Jorro'kil. Given the news report and what I gathered from their organization, there is someone entrenched deeply within the Free Absolute government who is cooperating with Silus."

"Very well. If worst comes to worse, we will intervene, and I have no doubt that Nvarn would like to send in Covenant troops to deal with those criminals." Vasorin quietly looked to his side as Netheun gasped out of surprise, jolting upwards. "What's the matter?"

Netheun connected his HUD to a hologram projector at the center of the chamber. A video played, displaying a darkened room. Tubes and wires crawled along the metal walls as if they were twisted and malignant vines. Though barely visible, Netheun could make out a figure tied to one of the larger tubes with a steel chord. Corena. The camera shifted and turned, the scene becoming a blur, but was then refocused upon the smiling face of Relthar.

"Destiny calls, Netheun."

As 673 approached, there was the sound of something chopping into wood. Without warning, a large branch plummeted down, its base chopped through. 673 blade had done part of the job when it had struck there (in fact, it was still imbedded in the very branch). This had given Jaci an idea. Putting away his bow, he had drawn his own blade, roughly made from a piece of scrap metal, and chopped through the branch the rest of the way, bringing it crashing downwards at the great Hithe. As the branch plummeted, Jaci gathered himself together and sprang through the air, not waiting to see if the branch actually hit its target. Landing on all fours, Jaci sprang off into the foliage and undergrowth of the main forest, thinking only of putting as much distance between himself and his enemy as he could. The big ship he had been going to investigate would have to wait till later.

Now at the base of the trunk, 673 didn't notice the falling branch until it was literally on top of him. The limb hit the forest floor with a muffled thump, the landing softened by both the undergrowth and a very surprised Hithe.

Shouldering the branch off, 673 reared his head back as he faced Jaci's fleeing form. From his throat a churning gurgle was heard as it grew bloated and purple in hue. With a wracking cough and a spasm from his neck, a thick glob of sticky resin flew out from his jaws.

The glob missed its mark as Jaci disappeared from view, instead splattering against a nearby boulder where it quickly hardened. Grumbling in frustration, 673 yanked his jawbone blade from the branch with ease before hooking it back on its holster. The Hithe desperately wanted to give chase, smelling the smart one's fleeing fear. However, even his dull mind knew Jaci was far more agile in this terrain and it instinctively overruled his desire to hunt.

Picking up the blood scent again, 673 trudged in a slightly different direction, hoping that whatever his destination was there would be a more satisfying fight in store for him.

Only a few minutes passed before the Emperor and his escort safely arrived at the Resolute Complex. When they departed from the brightly-lit interior of the Emperor's shuttlecraft, the comparatively dark room into which they entered required of their eyes' a moment of adjustment. Fifteen royal guards met the Emperor, Xej and Zjer as they left the shuttle, arranging themselves in a rectangular formation around the Zealots and Xonoc. Their ornate, golden armor glinted from the dull blue lighting in the hanger bay. In the full sun, these formidable troops would shine brightly in the battlefield. It was a tactical disadvantage to be so glaringly visible, but their armor also held a traditional sense of honor and bravery. There were only a very few, the Zealots among them, who could match these warriors in battle.

The party walked with severity and speed to their destination, the chamber of councils. An emergency meeting was to be held right away, and both the Zealots and Emperor Xonoc intended to keep it.

They were taken via tram through one of the Complex's tunnel transport routes, and from there walked through one of the transportation hubs to take them to the appropriate destination. Many kils stopped what they were doing and saluted, or bowed to their knee as Xonoc passed by. The Emperor didn't like this very much, but understood its importance and therefore did not discourage such action.

Just as the Zealots, the Emperor and their complement of guards were about to take another tram to the Councils' chambers, several troops boldly approached the group, led by a kil in a white uniform. "My Emperor, if I may address you."

"Certainly.." He said slowly, not quite remembering who this kil was.

"My name is Vais Treiv. I am one of the High Councilors responsible for diplomacy. I was instructed to inform Xej Therus of his niece's injury." He said, looking over at Xej.

"I.. am aware." He said with great hesitancy, and a look of pain briefly overtook his features. My duty is to attend to the Emperor. No matter what."

Vais glanced down at the marble floor for a moment, before returning his attention to Xej.

"I admire such devotion, but I was also instructed to ask you to go visit your neice... Several of the High Councilors, in the wake of this incident, have asked for a city-wide, perhaps world-wide search for the traitorous individual that we are seeking. At least, that is what has been decided thus far. No-one could have orchestrated this alone."

"I agree with this notion, and I was heading to the chamber of councils just now, Treiv, to further discuss the matter. I will keep Zjer by my side, however." He then turned to Xej. "Xej Therus, warrior, zealous for your people and your emperor, I give you permission to visit your niece. I will be fine, with this escort, and Zjer, no harm will befall me. I doubt that whoever this traitorous wretch is would have the stomach to deal with my protection. He is a coward."

Xej was about to raise a hand in objection, to state that he must remain with the Emperor, but Xonoc cut him off in his thoughts.

"I know you have strong objection to this, but I know of your history. Your family matters to you and therefore to me; I order you to stay with your niece."

Therus dipped his beak in obedience, and departed.

______________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Fine, so far." Krevozs replied. Then, using wiring from his utility belt, tied up each of the Xenoqqi by their grasping appendages.

"No doubt some of you will have information on where my ship is." He said. "In the very least, one of you should be aware of the location of an alien craft within your hulking vessel. Is that not so?" He asked, and extended the tip of his combat blade out towards the neck of one of his captors, looking across at each of them.

Hueq did not react to Krevozs' words. The crash and the death of his wife to the tripod had taken their toll on him, reducing him to a shell that simply took orders. The blade at his neck wasn't a problem as Hueq blearily looked around for the flask he had dropped when he was jumped.

"Why would I tell you, we're all dead in this hellhole. I mean, even if I did tell ya, you'd never get it. Is buried see? prob'ly flat as a carp't worm under all that rubble." The Xenoqqi trooper slurred.

The armblade was still at his neck. Hueq's intoxicated mind saw his one way out and took it. Hueq threw himself at the weapon, its edge biting deep into his windpipe. The alcohol numbing the pain the Xenoqqi wrenched his head sideways, ripping his neck open with a spray of blue ichor as he died.

I'm coming Fyrrui. I'm coming home.

"Well that was dramatic." Survivor said moving his mechanical fingers and laughing. "Now I will say what that oh so suicidal idiot just said is partly true. You and your fellow aliens are all dead in this survivalist paradise. However those who know how to survive worst planets than this will do just fine. Now why don't one of you tell us where the ship is before I capture one of you and take you to a true hell hole of a planet."

In a frozen, isolated pen in the next biome over, a sharp retractable claw extended from its sheath, large sticky toes curling away so that only the razor-like tool remained. A ragged hole marred the surface of the wall’s interior, revealing a crisscross of wires and metal support beams, painstakingly set aside to make space for the massive arm that reached into it. Armored skin plated with ganoid scales glimmered iridescently in the wall’s towering shadow, a network of diamonds, but with a flake of bone under each individual fragment; unique to the species, and as effective as any exoskeleton. The powerful muscles rippled with each twitch of the limb, but for its size, the task was delicate; it could safely hold a paper-thin eggshell without breaking it. The claw scratched away behind the lock that kept the door secured; entering into its system, subtly toying with it.

The claw found purchase, and the hand, as fluid as the slithering of a limbless thing, gently twisted to one side, and on the other side of the door, a light flashed green. A metallic clicking echoed from within the door, and slowly, it slid aside, ancient dust rising as it moved for the first time in what seemed to be ages. Twirling flesh-like whiskers on the creature’s face curled up as its lips parted, revealing rows of sharp, dagger-like fangs, flashing a pure, ivory white in the darkness. Six complex compound eyes, which offered the benefits of both motion detection and acute vision, seemed to glow as mirrored lenses in their depth caught the faintest rays of light, amplifying and making the shadows as bright as direct sun. The monstrous creature turned its head to look behind it, where scores of creatures, similar, but not quite identical, idled a brief distance away.

A bone-chilling hiss sounded from its throat, and the abominations raised their heads in response, some having deep orifices that made their mouths seem like sunken pits, while others had wide, snapping jaws brimming with teeth. Towering behemoths covered in mouths surrounded by writhing tendrils and vicious winged beasts concealed within their living bodies loomed over, and slowly began to lumber forward, padded feet making eerily almost no sound at all save for the faint crunching of snow underfoot. Heavily-built creatures moved on all fours with alarming speed, their stomachs brimming with the eggs of unhatched parasites, and adult vermin slithering within their throats, prepared to enter the bodies of unsuspecting victims as their host’s reproductive system created them. Quadruped monsters with teeth so large their mouths could not contain them dripped paralyzing venom, fanged manes and tails with tiny jaws moving deliberately back and forth, looking for a victim to immobilize for infection. Creatures such as the one who opened the gate, though none were as brilliant as the one leader, rose from their haunches in anticipation of obstacles to clear for their larger, less agile counterparts.

Alien, unnatural roars, some chittering and others deep and rumbling, filled the air with a menacing, primordial song; it was a sound that could freeze the blood of any creature to hear it. It was not merely fear, but something far more terrible, the instinctive knowledge born into every living creature throughout generations of survival and death. An ancient thing had escaped from its cage, and it was now free to roam about as it pleased.

It was the feeling of dread.

Jaci didn't stop running until he was sure he had was not being pursued. He stood for a full two minutes sniffing and listening, but did not pick up any signs of his enemy. Letting out a sigh, he settled for a moment to rest, but then spotted something . . . a small plant nearby had blood on it.

Jaci leaned in carefully and sniffed, then scooped a little on his finger and licked it. It was at least an hour old, probably more. Looking around, Jaci saw signs a large creature passing through. Following the trail backward, Jaci soon found something else: the ground in one area where the trail led back to was torn up. It was clear the other creature had come here, but then had been injured and driven off. There was more blood from the creature, and the marks of several others, including another large one.

Jaci frowned as he examined the area. he recognized the marks of the first creature, but these others were alien to him. Looking up, he saw on the opposite side of the area that there was another trail. It seemed the second large creature had headed off in that direction, in a big hurry it looked like. Jaci sat for a moment, torn between curiosity and fear. This creature was large, and probably dangerous. Then again, that being the case, it might be in Jaci's interest to know more about this creature, whatever it was. Finally, curiosity won out. Rising to his feet, Jaci strode towards the trail and then suddenly fell on his back, clutching his face. It felt like he had just run into something.

Jaci stared hard at the area in front of him but didn't see anything. Rising carefully, Jaci held out his hand and stepped forward carefully, freezing when his hand suddenly came into contact with something. Yet he still couldn't see anything.

Slowly, his fingers trembling, Jaci raised both hands up and began to feel whatever it was this invisible thing was; it felt like metal. Passing his hands back and forth over it, he made a full circuit and a half around, trying to get an idea of its size. It was big.

Now feeling rather frightened, Jaci looked at the trail he had been intending to follow, then back at the area that seemed to be empty. Extending his hand, he found it again. That mysterious object that eluded his vision while remaining tangible. Jaci swallowed, and then glanced back at the trail. His mind was made up. He'd sooner take his chances with the large beats than with this unnatural thing that he could only feel. At least he could see the beast.

Or could he?

The thought suddenly occurred to Jaci that this new creature might be invisible too. Maybe it was stalking him right now. Now truly frightened, Jaci dropped to all fours, eying the surrounding woods with fear. He began to back away, and then bumped against the invisible thing, which he had momentarily forgotten. The unexpected touch made him jump and run for a short distance, before he pulled himself together. He gazed at the area where he knew the invisible thing to be, and then back at the beasts trail. He wanted nothing more to do with either. He wanted to crawl back to his abode and stay there.

However, a part of him told him that he should find out more if he could. If there was some invisible beast roaming the woods, it would be better to find out sooner on his own volition than be taken by surprise at some later time. At the least the creature had left some sort of trail. Swallowing his fear, Jaci unsheathed the rough sword he had fashioned from a piece of scrap metal and clamped it in his teeth. Advancing cautiously on all fours, he began to track the strange thing that had entered his world.

After an hour had passed, the pheromone-laced package of plant leaves left behind by a gleefully disturbed Werean child had attracted the attention of several creatures of a specific species. Animals with bony frills coming from their heads, ringed by serrated forward-facing horns, their entire bodies covered with sharp, blade-like scales, had quickly taken notice. Their beady ruby eyes did not see well, but their movements were governed just as much by smell as by sight. They moved swiftly through the forest towards the source of the scent that, to them, was that of a potential mate. Long, fleshy tails with only faint coatings of hair whipped behind them, and sharp red teeth gnashed inside of powerful jaws.

Cricetoads, normally a cavern-dwelling species, had been accidentally introduced on several different planets throughout the galaxy by over-eager poachers. They were popularly featured in blood sport on their home planet, largely preferring the taste of flesh, despite their status as omnivores. Including their tails, which consisted of almost half their entire body length, they could grow to be up to fifteen feet. Their jaws were extremely powerful, and their teeth hard enough that, given sufficient time, could gnaw through metal. These creatures were not only fast and dangerous, but alarmingly intelligent, and were notorious for finding ways into even the most secure of strongholds.

Having been brought to the strange patchwork planet for whatever purpose, the Cricetoads faced staunch competition from other similarly dangerous creatures, though as a hardy species, they still continued to breed and establish a healthy population. Their survival was never halted by the interference of any sentient being or program meant to control their numbers. Despite the incredible threat they posed, and their value as trophies in galactic trade, they were typically viewed as terrifying vermin on the worlds they came to inhabit. The knowledge of their existence was met with mixed feelings of fear and revulsion. Cricetoads were well-known for ravaging grave sites, digging up bodies no matter the fashion they were buried in, and stripping the flesh from corpses until not even the bones remained. They would even cannibalize their own kind under a regular basis.

A group of three male Cricetoads in the general vicinity were attracted to a single clearing at the base of a gigantic, mountainous wall. They saw no female, but their noses told them that one was nearby, and they grew violent the moment they set eyes upon one another. The greatest danger to the species, perhaps, was the competitive fighting between aggressive males, as they sought to establish dominance and lay claim to all potential mates within a range. The sheer violence of such battles did not end with the losing party backing down, but with the defeated male fleeing for its life, should the victor slaughter it for food. Females were easily housed in groups if kept in captivity, but the same could not be said of males; to place two males in a confined space would be to find at least one of them dead later.

Without any of the typical clever consideration that normally characterized the Cricetoads, the three males immediately attacked each other, tearing at each other with sharp teeth. Anything that attempted to approach them would quickly be dragged into the battle royal, male or female, regardless of species. To be sighted by these warring animals would mean either fleeing for dear life, or a swift, painful death, whatever body was left behind would surely be devoured when the fight was over.

Fortunately, the sound was audible for a long distance, and most local creatures already knew how to distinguish the loud, shrilling screeches. To approach would be at one’s own caution, and, of course, the males were too caught up in the fight to actively seek out strange sources of noise or scents.

It was possible to investigate the general vicinity, if one was careful.

Jaci froze. He had been carefully following the trail for awhile, but the sound that came to him was one he was all too familiar with. He had encountered these creatures before, and had barely escaped with his life on many occasions. With barely a thought, he scrambled into a tree, climbing to the highest branch that would support his weight. He sat for a few moments, barely daring to breath. Still, the cries didn't seem to be getting any closer, so he cautiously began to move. Listening carefully, he could pick out that there were at least three individuals.

Moving stealthily through the upper branches, he was able to get close enough to see the three Cricetoads. They seemed to be going at each other for no reason. Jaci sniffed. Although his nose wasn't as sensitive as many creatures, he could pick out some of the stronger odors on what would be considered the harder to detect level. There was definitely the scent of a female Cricetoad, but no sight of one of them.

Jaci frowned. Could these creatures have been what he was following? No, it couldn't be. The sort of tracks and trails these creatures left didn't match, and the one he had been following was from a considerably bigger creature.

A quick look showed that one of the Cricetoads that had been receiving the worst end was preparing to retreat. Jaci made a quick scan of the ground trying to find the trail again. He huffed in frustration. He couldn't follow it from up a tree. He was just going to have to wait until the creatures left.

The Cricetoads briefly tossed each other out so that they all stood on the edge of the clearing, and they began to circle, most trailing blood from various nasty wounds. The older males were easily distinguished by the number of old scars scraped across their softer limbs and bellies, and it was obvious who the youngest was. The youngest, rather than possessing scars, possessed the greatest number of injuries, and although it kept up quite a front, it was likely considering admitting defeat and trying to escape. Cricetoads were not foolish animals, and although they had been known to fight to the bitter end, they were aware of their own limits. It was this sort of common sense that likely saved the losing youth’s life, as, when the two older males had locked eyes, their muscles coiled up to lunge at each other, that was the exact moment that it chose to flee in the opposite direction.

The other two, airborne, were in no position to chase after the fleeing party, and had to focus all their energy on fending off their opponent. Both were fully-grown adults, much older than the one that had fled, but one was clearly still older than the other. It was clear that, despite being of a more advanced age, the male with the greatest number of scars still surpassed its younger challengers. It scrabbled with its opponent for a moment, before seizing the delicate skin between its body and one of its front legs. It tore at the limb, and the victim screamed in pain, before hastily tearing itself away and slowly inching back in the clearing.

The fight was over, but the victor had no interest in eating the loser who was currently trying to limp away. It was more interested in the female they had been fighting over. It raised its head, and sniffed, before slowly walking over to a parcel of leaves lying at the clearing’s edge. Perplexed, it sat back on its hind legs, and pulled the bundle apart with its dexterous front paws, only to discover that it contained a strange, clear slime, two feathers, and what looked like a scale of some sort. Suddenly angry, having realized the trick, the Cricetoad turned to the losing opponent, who had managed to get far enough into the woods so that only its tail remained.

With a screech of intense rage, the Cricetoad that had discovered the trick charged at the fleeing injured male, and tackled it. There was a brief struggle, before the victim screamed, and was quickly choked off, its throat presumably having been ripped out. The body lay still for a moment, and then, slowly, it was dragged away, deep into the forest.

Everything was still for a moment, and blood splattered the clearing, its reek filling the area with the stench of death.

The fight was over, but what had the Cricetoads been fighting over?

Jaci waited a full five minutes before cautiously descending to the torn up ground. Gingerly, he picked his way over the blood-stained chunks of turf strewn left and right until he came on the remains of what the Cricetoad had been fighting over. Picking up the leaves, feathers, and scale, he carefully examined and sniffed each one. He frowned. This didn't seem natural. It looked rather. . . designed. Was this supposed to be some sort of bait for a trap? If it was, then where was the trap? And what was the intended victim? For a brief moment, Jaci wondered if he himself was the intended target. His mind designed a scenario where some clever and cruel hunter had designed a trap that would pique Jaci's interest while at the same time attracting dangerous animals to kill him.

Jaci decided against it, colorful and imaginative as it sounded. The odds of failure for such a trap were simply too high. Perhaps maybe this was some abandoned lure for any kind of prey that the person who set it could kill for food or whatever purpose. Jaci made a thorough search of the area and found no one. However, there were definitely clear signs that the creature he had been tracking having been here, and there other marks that he recognized as having come from the place where he had discovered the invisible object. He even found the exact plants that the leaves had been torn from.

Jaci frowned. He had seen no sign of the other marks except at the area where the invisible object was. They had just suddenly appeared as if from thin air. Could it be that whatever it was that made these marks could fly? It seemed the only reasonable explanation. But what were they doing? Were they following the big creature too? Or were they something like parasites to it, or maybe something that picked ticks from it? He had seen such creatures here before.

Jaci rubbed a finger against his snout. All this musing was getting him nowhere. The only way he would learn the truth was to find what he was looking for. Picking up the trail again, he set out at a jog, although he was careful to make as little noise as possible.

Having headed north, Ravage’s group began to notice how the temperature was gradually dropping. As they continued on, the lush green forest gave way to skeletal trees covered with ice and frost. Suddenly, the towering wall to their right, which had seemed endless, gave way to reveal vast, snow-covered plains, frigid mountains rising up in the distance. The group once more came to a halt, debating what should be done next. The gravity beam’s source appeared to have come from this direction, but there were obvious risks associated with exposure to the cold.

Xenos, despite being warm-blooded, was amphibious, and possessed no fur or feathers to help maintain his body temperature. Despite the conditions being more tolerable than a polar ice cap, the spiromander came from an environment that was typically warm year-round. It could be potentially hazardous to his health to enter into the snowy region without proper protection from the elements. Although it was the equivalent of a brisk early winter, Xenos looked at the ice hanging from the trees uneasily, shifting worriedly on his feet. He did not want to go, but would do so if it was asked of him, even if it meant risking his own well-being.

Ravage patted his snout affectionately with her one good arm, but her own mind ran in circles, searching for a solution to the problem. She could still go into the snowy biome with Querois and Rune, but leaving Xenos behind was no better an option than taking him with her. She didn’t know how deep the hatred ran, but if Krevozs still held a strong grudge over what had happened over a decade ago, he might kill the spiromander in order to get back at her. She was almost certain that he planned on hunting her down and taking her life for revenge, but was he angry enough to kill her companions? She suspected he might be; if her ship had been functional, a part of her knew that he would have stolen it and left her adoptive family stranded, which was as good as dead.

Ravage also felt that she could not afford to part ways with her animal companion; her own fighting abilities were severely weakened when she broke her arm, and Querois and Rune weren’t strong enough to fend off large alien beasts or scientifically-enhanced soldiers. Xenos was the best fighter they had at the moment, and although she wished to avoid as much conflict as possible, he was likely the only thing that could keep her and her two sons alive. There was no score to settle, in Ravage’s mind; there was only fleeing and surviving. They had to reach the gravity beam and disable it. They could then proceed to worry over how they would reach the Stealth Strider without being seen.

Rune quietly sat under one of the icy trees, watching his adoptive mother, who was clearly scared of what could potentially happen. She kept on absently patting Xenos’ snout while staring out at the frozen plains that seemed to begin abruptly by the wall. There was still a logical gleam, one that was determined to find a solution to the problem, but he knew just as much as Ravage that the odds were not in the group’s favor. It was still a question as to whether or not Querois’ trap would stall their pursuer. It was a complete mystery to Rune, why Ravage was so terrified of the alien that Querois had called a ‘Jorro’kil’. Ravage had known that stranger from somewhere, and for whatever reason, she seemed to consider him a lethal threat. Rune knew somewhat of what the term ‘lethal’ meant; he himself had fought against Liirlith spies, but he had never taken a life, as Ravage had.

Querois, balancing on his tail close by, carefully scanned the surroundings, and then seemed to notice Rune staring at their caretaker, “You see the good in people, but that is also why you are not as smart as me.” He said quietly, although Ravage was so distracted by her thoughts that she did not notice anything other than the snowy plains ahead.

Rune looked at the Werean abruptly, “What do you mean by that?” He demanded, thinking that Querois was about to start some sort of argument. Rune was normally not one to fight or leap to the conclusion that someone was attempting to provoke him, but Querois had done nothing but bicker with him since joining the small patchwork family. It did not help that Rune was in a dismal mood, seeing Ravage at a loss at what to do, and his own feelings hurt that she did not think she could tell him what was wrong.

“Calm down; that was in some regards a compliment,” the Werean said, his voice lacking the typical thinly-veiled laughter that seemed to characterize the majority of his words.

“A compliment? How merciful of you.” Rune said sarcastically, annoyed that Querois would attempt to pass off an insult as its complete opposite.

“You said that on your home world, you solved cases that dumbfounded even the most famous detectives, and the worst of criminals were put behind bars because of your intuition.” Querois said, tilting his head slightly, “The police did not like that you somehow obtained secret information, and that you operated outside the constraints of the law, but regardless if your actions were on the fringes of criminal behavior, they could not deny that you had worked to resolve countless investigations.”

Rune folded his arms, “So how am I not smart? I not only had to solve the criminal cases, but I additionally had to avoid discovery by all of civilization. If I had been found at any point and time, my very existence was a crime punishable by death.” His voice came harsher than he might have intended.

Querois continued, not commenting on Rune’s temperament, “In solving those cases, you were an outside observer, delivering clues and useful information without ever being seen, either by the police, the criminals, or even your own allies. As a third party, you had nothing to deal with anyone other than detached analysis. You could have solved robberies, or even serial murders, but as a third party who only examined the facts and evidence, you never really felt connections to anyone or the events on a personal level. It was a game of logic for you. Like me, you enjoy occasional puzzles; we need to stimulate our mental capabilities, or we could become completely deluded from boredom.” He pointed out.

“What would be your point in explaining this?” Rune asked, his head suddenly hurting with what he imagined was the aftermath of too much stress.

“My point is,” Querois began, before pointing a tentacle at him, “-you are not used to being an actual participant in scenarios like this. You are not used to being a victim that is a target for potentially hostile forces, and you have never been in a situation where you had to take your feelings and that of your allies into consideration. In previous cases, especially when you revealed to Pavolites and Thundarians that they were actually closely related, desperation forced them to work with you, regardless of their own opinions; you knew all of the pieces to the puzzle, and knew exactly how the plans would unfold.”

The Werean sank back down to slither along the ground, looking up at the young Maozhuian, “This time, you have personal connections with the people involved, and you do not know everything about what is occurring. Not only do you not know, but you are not able to make your own decisions. You want to believe that the stranger we are running from is not as bad as Ravage seems to think, but that is wishful, even idealistic. Ravage, as you have realized as well as I have by now, walks on a thin line between noble causes and sheer, cold-hearted ruthlessness. You know also, as I do, that she has slain countless people from every walk of life, not all of whom were criminals or individuals with evil intentions. She has killed both good and bad people, and she has probably seen everything in between those two extremes throughout her life.” He said.

Rune sighed, “I will admit this much, being in a situation like this is very different from what I am used to. I still do not fully think I understand what you mean, however.”

Querois raised his head and looked to make sure Ravage was not paying attention, “We are not being looked after by a regular caregiver, Rune.” He said, for the first time properly using the Chimerosu’s name. “We are being brought up by a murderer; not every life she has taken has been on a battlefield where it was condoned. She has mercilessly slaughtered many people, and that is not a line that once crossed, permits people to turn back. There is no sense in sugarcoating anything and trying to ignore the facts, simply because she has also done many good things. No matter how much she may regret her past deeds, and wish to never kill again, a killer will always be that at heart.”

“What I am attempting to say here, is that even though you want to think the best of people, Ravage has seen horrible things, and knows that people do not always do what is right. She knew that Jorro’kil, and even though neither of us quite know what happened between those two, she has a reason behind why we are fleeing from him. She probably believes that he plans on killing us, and even though I would much rather prefer what you were probably thinking, that amends could be made, that is not something so easily done. She might have killed a relative of his, or maybe she did something terrible to him on a personal level. Regardless of what happened, it is not so easy to apologize to someone who is out for your head.”

Rune rose up to his feet, “Make your point, Querois, and say it directly.” He said calmly.

“The reason I am smarter than you in this situation,” Querois said slowly, “-is because I do not immediately think that amends can be made, or that someone is capable of kindness. Your views are idealistic, and I envy that you can have that innocence after some of the things you might have seen since meeting spacefaring races. I, on the other hand,” He rose back onto his tail and opened his tentacle-fins, angling them to catch the light, so that on the black skin an expansive network of whip-like scars and bite marks were revealed. He gave pause, letting Rune see the marks, before continuing, “I have lived through the worst of waking nightmares, at the tentacles of my own kind. I have been beaten, abused, insulted, and treated like mud to be pushed out of a home; it is the fate of anyone abnormal, especially for the weakest. My kind was barbaric, but the galaxy is no different; people simply ignore what they do not wish to see.” He concluded, and sank back down onto his belly.

Rune could only look at Querois with muted shock; Ravage had mentioned that Querois had shown signs of physical abuse, but seeing the scars himself, which he had never noticed before, was much more powerful than simply being told. How many times had this young Werean been injured and attacked by others of his species? He clenched his beak before speaking, “Then what can we do to get out of this situation? If we are in danger, surely we cannot just sit here.” He said.

Querois dug at the dead, brittle grass on the ground, pulling up a few strands with his tentacles, “We need to go through that frozen biome to get to the gravity beam. I can disable it; I know more than perhaps anyone else how to do that, because I was the only one who cared to learn about alien technology. You have seen how arrogant my people are, they are all jenggui insane, not wanting to learn everything there is to know.” He released the strands, watching them fall back to the ground, “Xenos, however, is a spiromander, and he is not meant to be in an environment that cold; it could be dangerous to his health. Leaving him here, though, could mean that Jorro’kil finding him and killing him out of petty revenge, or us being attacked by some arctic beast and not having any of the capability to fend for ourselves.”

He looked up at Rune, “Unless we can make some sort of makeshift jacket for him, as most would call it; something to help him insulate his body temperature would fix all of our problems,” He said.

Rune looked around, “What do we even have? I do not see small, furry animals running around for us to use for that purpose, and there are no fibrous plants anywhere, either. It would take too long to weave anything, regardless.” He said.

Querois pulled up another tendril-full of grass, holding it up thoughtfully, “What if the tree behind you, in response to the current weather conditions, were filled with sap inside of its trunk? What if I said that, based on the root systems it has that I can see, there is a small jenggui chance that the tree might be one whose sap might harden into a white substance with properties similar to latex? If so, using this dry grass and other dead plants, we could make a rough blanket of it, and use the straps of Xenos’ saddle to hold it onto his back. He would still be uncomfortably cold, but if it worked, we could safely bring him into the biome with us.”

Rune whirled around to look at the tree, wide-eyed, “You might be right, but how do we get enough to make a blanket big enough to cover him?” he asked, before shaking his head, “No, not big enough to cover the whole body, just the upper part where the saddle is. Protect the vitals, those are the most important, keep that area warm and it should be enough.” He concluded.

Ravage, seemingly having made up her mind, walked over to Rune and Querois, “I don’t like doing this, but we’re going to have to risk it. If we want to reach that gravity beam, we have to take Xenos with us and find some way of keeping him warm.” She said.

“We already have a possible way to do that,” Rune said, looking at Querois.

The Werean looked at Ravage, “We need you to cut a deep hole in this tree trunk here,” He said.

Ravage looked at her one good arm, and unsheathed the claws on that hand, extending them out to their full length, “I don’t know where you’re going with this, but you recognized that one plant earlier, so I’ll trust you with this, too.” She said. She then stuck her claws down to their very base into the tree, and slowly dragged along the length of the tree’s diameter, before pulling them out with some effort, as a sticky, yellowish-white fluid began to leak out.

Rune and Querois exchanged looks and seemed to share looks of mixed relief and joy, “Excellent, this will work! We can jenggui get out of this mess!” Querois said, trying to keep his voice down to avoid alerting any animals that might be nearby.

“What is this?” Ravage asked, trying to brush off the sticky sap on a clear patch of the tree bark, only to get tiny pieces of wood stuck to her hand, as well.

“A natural latex, hurry, we need to get as many dead, leafy branches as possible.” Rune urged.

As the group proceeded to collect the branches of dead or dying bushes, including Xenos, who used his mouth to rip up enormous plants, sometimes by their roots, the group did not realize that, even though they had found a solution to the problem of safely bringing Xenos into the snowy biome with them, they were also heading towards something.

Slowly, but surely, they were approaching something far more dangerous than the Jorro’kil they were fleeing from.

Jaci had slowed down. He was tired. And he was feeling cold. He didn't like cold. He preferred the warmer parts of the biome, away from the walls. He had no pelage, and little clothing to speak of. In the warmer sections, neither of these things were a problem, but now he was feeling uncomfortable. Miserably, he slapped and rubbed at his chest; his toes were beginning to feel numb. He had been jogging along this trail for over an hour, and had spotted nothing. His resolve was wavering with increased rapidity and he was starting to have more than half a mind to give up and return the way he came. Whatever it was  he had been following was moving away from the area he inhabited. Maybe it would stay away for good, and he wouldn't have to worry about. Maybe the invisible thing would be gone when he got back.

Jaci shivered, watching his breath mist in front of his eyes. His feet crunched loudly on the frost covering the ground; he was too cold and tired to care about stealth. The mysterious creature, he reasoned, was most likely far ahead and wouldn't be able to hear him anyways. This was seeming more and more like a waste of time. Maybe he should go back and check out that large object that had fallen from the sky, as had been his original intent earlier that day. The more he thought about this prospect, the more appealing it seemed. Yes, this was definitely a waste of his time. He would go back and see what that large object was, and whether it posed a threat or held something potentially useful. As for the mysterious invisible thing, he could easily avoid that section of the forest.

Absorbed in these thoughts, Jaci's mind was only half-focused on the trail he was still following. As he continued forward, it looped a sharp curve around a tall rock that was the final part of a ridge of boulders and trees that obscured anything farther up the slope. His mind still preoccupied, Jaci carelessly made the sharp turn around it . . . and then stopped dead in his tracks.

There standing in front of him was an immense beast with a long neck and tail, and six limbs. It was big, too. And that wasn't all. There were three other creatures there, all strange to him. Two of them looked like feathered serpents, each with a pair of wings, six limbs, and a face like a bird. One, larger and darker colored than the other, also had sharp teeth, horns, and wicked looking talons. And the third smaller creature . . . it looked like a seal with fins and tentacles.

Jaci stood and gaped at them. He had tried numerous times to picture what it was that he had been following, but the truth was nothing like he had imagined. For a moment he just stared at them, then realized they were staring at him, too. They probably heard him farther back; he had been making plenty of noise.

From the perspective of Ravage and Co. they would have seen a bipedal creature, looking slightly, but not entirely reptilian, dark-green in color with darker green markings, and a digitigrade stance, with four toes, the innermost bearing a long claw and curled back off the ground. The creature had a medium length tail, and four clawed finger to each hand. The face had a medium length snout that graded slightly to the brow, and was topped up to this point by a prominent ridge. Starting where the ridge ended, he had mane-like mass of protofeather-like bristles that covered the top of his head and ran down the neck. His eyes were golden yellow fleck with some purple, with slit-like pupils. He wore a rough leather kilt that ended just above the knees, and wore diagonally around his body a thick leather strap that held a quiver of arrows, and sheathed sword made of some scrap metal. In his hand he held a bow that seemed to be made of the ribs of some animal firmly joined at the base.

Jaci took one step back once he realized the group was looking at him, adrenaline starting to flow as his body prepared to fight or run for dear life.

The first reaction from Ravage’s group was to stare in shock at the stranger who had suddenly appeared from behind a tall rock. They had stopped doing anything long before they saw him, because he had made no effort whatsoever to conceal his movements, and the sound would have alerted even creatures with minimal hearing capability. After realizing that he appeared to be armed, Ravage’s immediate concern was that he might pose a threat, so she turned her body sidelong, spreading her wings and lowering her head so that her horns pointed directly at this new arrival. Her pale green eyes steadily watched this strange alien, and her tail tip flicked like a predator prepared to pounce. Her wings, normally folded so that the undersides were hidden, were covered with brilliant eye-like patterns, and brightly colored, almost like the scaly wings of certain small invertebrates.

“Who…are you?” She demanded, her voice coming out as a menacing hiss, like a feral beast growling. Along her body were segments of glinting black armor, and a strange set of symbols, like a badge or insignia of sorts, were present on the shoulder-parts of it. Her appearance, despite seeming like a wild, vicious creature, was also militaristic, like a soldier. Whether or not this stranger recognized her as being a commissioned officer from somewhere was not something she was concerned with. She was prepared to lunge at him if she did not like the answer he gave her. Although he actually seemed terrified and gave off the scent of fear, she was not ready to immediately extend a peaceful gesture.

Next to the on-edge Lieutenant Commander, Rune glanced sidelong at Querois, “Do you know what this alien is?” he asked quietly.

Querois gave a small, uneasy giggle, “He does not match anything I am familiar with in my research of alien races. I suspect newly-emerged race, or genetic creation: not something in a database yet. He may not understand our language, if he is either one. You have to be spacefaring and allowed to communicate in order to understand Intergalactic Tongue. He might only know his own language. He looks as though he has been on this planet for a long time.”

Rune seemed worried, now, “What do we do if he does not understand us? If he runs, I suppose that would be fine, but if he fights us, or if he continues to attempt to communicate, what should we do? I doubt he speaks Krylonian, or its derived Pavolian or Thundarin dialects.”

Querois’ gleaming W-shaped eyes seemed to dull for a moment, as he seemed grim, “I suspect we would have to test languages that we know and see if anything is something he recognizes. If there is nothing, I suppose we would have to simply work out that problem.”

Jaci gave a cry of fear and turned to run, but foot slipped on some ice and he fell, twisting an ankle and banging his knee against a rock. In the fall, he dropped his bow and his arrows went all over the place. Nursing his hurt leg, he tried to crawl backwards away from the group, his claws scrabbling desperately at the ground.

"Né pedhi malar a mé!" he cried, using a language Ravage might have found familiar. "No hurt! No hurt!" he said, this time using some broken Loccalian dialect.

Ravage, upon seeing the stranger’s reaction, raised herself back up into a normal standing position, neatly folding her wings; he had dropped his weapons and injured himself quite effectively in attempting to run away. “This one is no threat,” she said, “He speaks two languages, but one is Loccalian. It’s broken, but that’s enough to communicate with.” She tilted her head as she looked at the stranger, “Alright, for the moment, no hurt, but before I make any promises not to do anything, I want to know two pieces of information.” She stated this firmly, her eyes hard. “First, what is your name, and second, why were you following us?” She demanded.

Rune tapped on Ravage’s shoulder, “Do you not think we should offer him medical attention? His ankle appears to be sprained.”

Ravage’s tail flicked, “I want to know what this one’s intentions are. I don’t like doing this, but at the same time, if he is working with Krevozs, we cannot be certain of what he might do if we were to assist him.” She said. A part of her worried about whether or not Krevozs would recruit allies, but something else nagged at her. What was that first language he had spoken? She did not understand it, but it was familiar, and hearing it filled her with suspicion.