[Alain]

Groups had attempted to go between the Acanthan portal and Elysia numerous times-- trying to scout the land, and all the while fewer and fewer numbers . They'd almost given up hope, even after the former member of the vanguard returned to them. Alain himself wasn't sure of what to do. The only real choice at this point was to travel in one direction, toward the vanguard. They were currently planning for him and many others to serve as a large push toward the group, in hopes of helping them. They tried not to consider that they might need it themselves. Malaki picked off small groups that scouted the area frequently, so both sides had come to a standstill—one watching the other. It wasn't safe to venture out too far from the portal. Elysians had no hope of realizing that this was the exact purpose of the Malaki: to keep out any outsiders. In fact, they were more than able to repel the Elysians, despite the vanguard dispatching of nearly twenty of the beasts.

Alain chalked that up to some sort of diety's protection. Humans where he came from would call God's Will. Some Elysians spoke of their creator, Xanth, and prayed for her to watch over them. Alain didn't really care about either. Whoever created them had probably long since abandoned them in disappointment. Either that, or she might've died. Sure, many claimed gods to be immortal, but you're only immortal until something kills you. After that, you were just long lived.

The encampment was not without setbacks, either. Mere weeks before the current status quo, a series of earthquakes shook the whole of Elysia. In fact, he still had issues communicating with Alexandria. At the time, he watched as some tried to enter the portal to possibly gain privy to what might be going on from the other side, but then another tremor came, that time more powerful than ever. Electricity flared from the portal and shook those near it, while many rushed to their aid, ignorant to the fact that none were harmed. Meanwhile, tents that had stood for days began to buckle, and people hurriedly exited their shelter before it could crash down on them. Alain himself became unbalanced, like many others, and fell to his knees after he tried to move to help the others. Luckily, nothing too devastating, such as the ground itself splitting, seemed to occur, but several of the Chandric's small, dead trees fell around the camp as he lie still, crushing supplies and any unfortunate soul that happened to be in their path. Alain grimaced at the losses. There were still a few missing tents around the camp—now.

Alain's brooding over the recent events was interrupted abruptly, however, as someone entered the meeting room, where he and Clara were waiting for members of the new recon team to assemble. He jumped guiltily as someone approached him from his side, as he had been so deep in thought that he hadn't notice the person's entrance. He turned to look at the newcomer, but the newcomer raised his hand to signal for him to stay seated, rather than rise to shake his hand or the like. Alain recognized the look on his face, he was all eyes and ears for Alain, one of the more optimistic youths who saw him as some sort of important symbol within the camp.

"It's all right, no need to get up."

"That's good," a dry voice called out. "Because neither of us are going to. Anything you still need?"

Alain gave a look at Clara, who he reunited with but a day before, and thankfully hadn't changed one bit. The young man gave a nervous cough. "Well, before the tremors, I was going to ask sir Moreaux a few questions, as I'm on the new recon team. Not many of us have come back from the other side of the portal as often as he has..."

That was true. Alain had made three trips into the harsh wastelands in total, though none went exactly as planned. He nodded for the man to continue. "I just want to know how to best handle...them. No one really talks about it."

Alain paused for a moment, considering what to tell the fellow. It'd probably affect whether he lived or died. “To be honest, those creatures, the Malaki, are usually twice as fast and strong as any of us in a fair fight. I recommend not letting them get the chance, and if it comes to close quarters, focus on survival and teamwork. It's usually safer in numbers out there. That said...prepare for the heat more than anything. It will kill you long before they will.”

In response, the other gave out a quiet "Ah", and then fell back to his own thoughts. Not much later, deciding there wasn't much more he probably wanted to know, he went to rejoin the other newcomers that were still in a long, more standard briefing. Once he reached the appropriate distance, Alain let out a groan.

“I never knew having this many people look at you like some sort of hero would be this hard” said Alain, as he surveyed the encampment from afar. “I've answered the same questions so many times that it feels like I could just do it in my sleep...”

"I don't know what you're complaining about," said Clara unsympathetically. "At least you don't have to cope with finding out your significant other went off and nearly got himself killed." She paused for a moment, as they stared at the still glowing portal from the narrow opening in the meeting tent's entrance. "Why were we about to go out there again? We could always run away, and let the government and militias handle this..."

Alain slumped back and stretched, to get his body awake again. It'd be nice to let everything just go away...but the semi-recent earthquakes were just another clue of how grave the situation was. Hel, they could've been linked to this portal, with some disturbance in the world itself as a result of everything. There were too many more important things clamouring for his attention lately for him to ignore it all. Clara read it all on his face, likely thinking the same. She was probably just probing to make sure he felt the same as her. She continued speaking once more.

"Alright, so let's focus on the matter at hand. The rest of the team thinks we'll find something big out there, whenever we meet up with the others. But let's just say we find them dead, or find out there is really nothing out there. Which means we don't really have any clue of what we'll be doing out there other than randomly looking for them."

Alain smiled in return. “Nothing new there.”

Clara nodded. "Which means...we can't just go in there with this small recon team and supplies for people we might just so happen to meet. If we're going to actually go into the depths of that place, we need a real force to be reckoned with. Otherwise we'll just be bait for those creatures. You know I don't like being bait, Alain. What do you and the other leaders of this team have planned that the rest of them don't know about?"

“From what I gathered out there, from the Malaki's minds, there seem to be other races—ones similar to us—beyond the wasteland. It ends at some point. We just have to reach that point and find these other races, and possibly subdue the creatures. They won't enjoy the bull's company more than we do.”

"So we're bringing an actual force with us?"

Alain thought about that. “There's a chance that it might make our supplies run out faster, but so far we plan to do just that.”

"Good," said Clara. "Now let's just hope our happy parade doesn't get assaulted by these other people. The enemy of your enemy isn't always your friend, you know."

Another look came her way. She was just all sunshine and rainbows, as usual. The pair rose up, as the earthquakes definitely were not coming back at this point. They'd need to rejoin the rest of the camp soon, too. “That's a good question to hope we have answered once we get there...” Alain said with a scowl. “Wish I knew the answer now, though.”

"Hell, I'd settle for it being a certainty if it meant an end to all this."

[Rahil]

"Long ago, in a lawless age, a pack of bandits invaded a small village. Amidst the chaos, a young, bright mother sang her children asleep, administering to them the caress of a loving mother. It were only moments before the bandits draw near to her house, drawn to it by her voice, that the children fell asleep. She then quickly closed the hatch to her basement, and unhurriedly headed for a cage nearby her door.

She did not fear death, or what came before it. These occurances showed perhaps the only law of her land: To kill or be killed. Most of the villagers were probably dead by the time the bandits arrived at her door. She drew out a single key for her cage. She'd long held a beast from ravaging the village solely by her charm and that cage. But that cage left the beast angry, and no charm or shield would protect those in the house when she unlocked the door of its cage. The bandits outside rattled the house entrance's handle, and upon finding it unlocked, burst into the room. She opened the other door, just opposite of the one left ajar. The mother silently begged for the beast to kill everything in sight, and it swiftly obeyed.

No one ever found the beast again in that village. Nearby settlements had come to check for survivors, but found only two small children, left deathly thin, in one home's cellar. Both boys grew up to be happy farm hands, made happy families, and died quickly when the beast had found that village, too. It walked the ramparts from city to city, and the Hound of Death hung at its heels for many years. After all, it had fed him so well.

But one day the beast was injured during another bandit raid of an even more important town, and both groups turned on it. Even the beast could not handle so many numbers turned on it. So it fled, leaving a bloody trail from town. When the villagers looked for its lair, all they found were the remains of many people. Or at least, what was little was left of them. The beast ate even the bones. However, the beast was no where to be found. No body ever turned up, despite the villagers prayers. Although the town was saved, the villagers always kept an eye wearily at the shadows. Bandits were not the only thing they had to fear returning..."

“What a bizarre tale...” said Rahil, eyes slightly wide. “I'd say we're finding out the end, in that odd realm.”

"But Master, if I may interject, the people here don't have ramparts to walk around...so they aren't exactly proper villages."

“Then what of the trees? Look around you, at the thicket surrounding this camp, and tell me, what do you see?”

The large Zanaryan who towered at well over six feet beside him looked around, carefully ignoring certain agitated soldiers as they headed towards the Acanthan portal. It was only due to Rahil's abilities that they were prevented from being crushed under one of the Chandric Forest's many examples of deadwood in the earthquake, yet now he stood reading a passage from another storybook peacefully as they were about to enter Acantha. The camp fires spurned from the forestry had kept a great number of the beasts native to the lands from attacking the encampment. For now.

"Ah...I see what you meant. I suppose it does provide cover fo—."

"I'd hate to interrupt," piped in the third Zanaryan, a thin Djinni male with long, black hair that was held back in a ponytail and a small, feminine frame named Na'im. Rahil honestly had no idea how his family managed to get in contact with him, but so far he had proved an invaluable asset as a translator with the Elysians as well as an intelligent companion. "But I believe company is preparing to begin planning our expedition, Master Rahil."

The word master still sounded like an insult to Rahil, coming from the Zanaryan's mouth. The Djinni managed to constantly stay between the line of subserviant and mocking a majority of the time.

“Leave them be. What happens to the Elysians is no concern of ours, my allies. We can merely fend for ourselves, I doubt it'd be as difficult for us as it will be for them...”

Rahil moved his gaze to the portal before them. The encampment's people were good soldiers, to say the least, and were quickly catching onto their purpose for being gathered. However, they weren't the brightest lot. Nor were they Zanaryan, so he saw no need to expend energy helping them prepare for the trip. The world on the other side would be far more hazardous than anything he had seen in Zanarya, but it was also abundant in his element, which meant he'd need all the energy he could spare. To relate his use to weaponry for close quarters combat—In Elysia, he might be regarded as something of a mace; but in Acantha, he was like a warhammer. In fact, during his one trip to the realm, he'd easily estimate that his group's survival was mostly due to him. His two companions would probably disagree and give exaggerated input of their own performances importance, but Rahil thought they could just stuff it. Though he had to admit the Djinni's elemental control was quite useful, in comparison the the infantry Elysia provided. He wasn't biased at all.

He continued watching the portal as one of the encampments very own leaders approached the group. The same man was entirely unimpressed that they had survived nearly being squashed by a tree or two after the earthquake, the last he had been sent to check up on the trio.

"You're wanted down in the meeting room for the trip as soon as possible. Gather all your things and get ready to go. All plans are still on schedule."

The leader marched off to inform the next experienced group of soldiers, stepping around various debris at a brisk pace. Rahil looked at his companions with a look they had long gotten familiar with. The Dao Zanaryan understood Elysian tongue, but could only speak the basics of the language as of yet. If only he could've told the fool to mind his place. Regardless, the pair of Zanaryans beside him hoisted their packs, with the large Zanaryan, Jael, carrying Rahil's pack between the wings on his broad back. They'd been waiting long enough to see some action for the most part. There certainly wasn't much scenery for Rahil to appreciate, at least.

[Alain]

The meeting room filled slowly as the now “veterans”of the Acanthan environment gathered together. Some of the last to enter were two Zanaryans. Their leader stayed outside, due to complete inability to withdraw his natural scent: or rather, body odor. Alain had to applaude whoever managed to inform them of the meeting. Next to him, Clara fidgeted in her seat. She wasn't one for waiting, or anything involving large groups of people, really. Unless it was a barfight. If she was a veteran of anything, brawling would be his first nomination. Thankfully, the wait concluded before she found any important papers to scatter or makeshift desks to topple over.

“Is that everyone?” called out a gruff authoritative voice belonging to a Skotadi named Kastor, who was obviously a military leader before arriving. If there was a leader, in such a hodgepodge group of an encampment, it was definitely Kastor, regardless. Anybody who was somebody could have made a claim for such a title, and many did, too. The mix of militia and trained soldiers weren't sure who were to lead them, for a time, but they got the charismatic leader they needed quite easily after the earthquake. At the very least he acted more like a natural leader than a military officer, which was more than what he could say about the others.

The impassive face of one of his officers nodded after silently counting the faces in the room.

“Good. Let's get this meeting started. All of you know what you're about to walk into, but I'm going to warn you one last time now, that if you have something you're afraid to leave behind here, you're welcome to leave this tent right now.” he said. Alain and Clara looked at each other meaningfully at the words, but noticed none in the tent left their seating, or place of standing, in some cases. ”We're going to go as far inland as we can, because, according to our group's telepath, there are other people beyond the wasteland outside the portal. We have nothing more to go on.

“Therefore, each and every one of you needs to be prepared for a long march. You will be supplied with rations, but expected to safeguard your own supplies. We will not tolerate any thieving, as we have on previous expeditions. That said, we can't be fully expected to look after your own belongings.”

““Don't worry one bit about that.”” Clara gracefully interrupted. “”My right boot will do the safekeeping, with my left boot for coming home. The left boot's flask isn't filled with water.””

“Yes, well, we're all aware of you and your fellow adventurers capability for liquor,” Kastor conceded. “As the lady implied, I trust you lot will be smart enough to make the right decisions. Most of you are dismissed, but since we leave as planned in less than an hour from now, I will ask this now: Any last questions?”

No one rose a single hand. They'd had over a week of preparation for the trip ahead, after all. Alain and Clara stayed seated as the others left, though, as they were sure Kastor meant them and his personal soldiers being excluded from dismissal. Eventually, the tent had mostly emptied, and for a moment Kastor looked as though he had aged by ten years. He'd only been in command for two weeks, but it was taking his toll on him. However, the moment passed, and he faced the Dracovari couple and looking at them in their eyes, as if testing their resolve.

“I trust you know your duty, should we encounter those other races beyond the wasteland?” he inquired to Alain. He needn't ask Clara, he knew. He could tell that she was a hard woman. “It's going to be hard for you, as I doubt they speak Elysian.”

“I'm well aware...but it isn't exactly like there are a line of telepathic Dracovari willing to take my place.” Alain grimly replied. “ I have a duty to the people I left out there. I told them I would send back help, and I'll be damned if I go back on my word.”

He recalled the businessman, who he wondered was still alive. Although his previous encounter with the man told him that he was more than meets the eye, Alain at least had years of adventure to rely on. Regardless, he doubted the rest of the party would allow the only one maintaining the trail of the brave to die. That, at least, was comforting. If only because it might mean he wouldn't be the only telepath meeting with the Acanthan races.

“Thank you for your cooperation, then, Mr. Moreaux. Know that if you need any aid out there, you may rely on my subordinate, Ampelos. If anything, he might end up needing your help, too, as he is used to soldiers who would obey orders.”

Alain nodded. “I'll do what I can.”

“And that is all I ask. You're free to go.”

---

If only Alain had known Kastor couldn't have been more correct. Deep in the wastelands of Acantha, Alain faced the very same trouble he had with the vanguard, along with Malaki. Malaki raids had brought a fourth of the group down already, when their mounts tired and needed rest. Far above, the sky mixed colors of red and orange rather than the natural blue sky Alain was so used to. Any form of life was spotted borrowed underground, and several of the sorts of animals proved to be as dangerous as the bullish inhabitants of the wasteland. Death hung about the air like a curtain, marking the mere beginning of their journey. In fact, Alain could've sworn he smelt the familiar taint of rotting corpses somewhere around him. The cracked ground of the wasteland wasn't entirely inviting, and none were foolish enough to search any small crevices for possible sources of food, lest they become food themselves. Nor were the few trees that spotted the landscape, as few unfortunate souls had learned the hard way. Such trees folded inward, as though oppressed by the Badlands—they probably were—and searched desperately for the next victim.

Right behind him, Alain heard the well paced footsteps he had grown familiar with. Ampelos had joined he and Clara within their positions in the small rest camp.

"Tell me, Alain, have you found any more leads?"

Alain sighed. “The answer is the same as a few hours ago. All we can do is retrace the footsteps of the vanguard until we find some sort of clue as to where they were headed.”

The Skotadi nodded. "Then we'll just have to keep flying. We were lucky to have been supplied with so many mounts."

“The vanguard had their own fair share, but they've no doubt come to a slow due to the lack of supplies for the beasts making them send them back to the forest.”

"Then it shouldn't take much longer to reach them."

“We can only hope,” said Clara. “I notice that no one ever mentioned how our supplies outweigh our manpower.”

“Must have slipped my mind,” said Alain innocently, and the Skotadi gave a polite cough in return.

"That aside...how are you two feeling? Need any extra supplies?"

“I'm feeling lousy. I keep feeling like we're being watched,”noted Clara quietly.

“We probably are.”

“You're a great comfort, Alain. Really.”

“So are you.” Alain grinned, and turned to face the Skotadi. “I'd say we've been worse for the wear, in our time.”

"I see, then I shall leave you two to your own privacy, and check on the others."

And so the company moved on once more mere hours later, much to Alain and Clara's chagrin. Ampelos still nagged Alain for any leads, but the answer remained the same. It was worse when it turned dark. The dark almost suffocated the men, and the Malaki inspired nightmares for some. Still, they continued further. They hadn't lost any more men to the dangerous lands, but that didn't stop the pressure of lurking death around every moment meant for rest. It was harder to sleep when one knew they might be attacked by strange creatures, either burrowed under the earth or on the ground they lie on. It was during the flight after the following rest that they were founded the very race that they had been looking for...

Spoiler

Bleh...filler post isn't pretty poorly written IMO, but it is what it is. If any changes are necessary, let me know. Just don't tell me it's more time issues, lest my brain explode. Despite my blatant abuse/creation of NPCs in this post, I'd prefer a more official source for the mystrider's actions here, as I'm still not entirely caught up on their culture.

I also noticed Zephyr joining the Acanthan Arc, so you're more than welcome to offer any criticism (such as a new stopping point/better moment for Zephyr to join in) if you wish Russ. Though you probably will want to post in the Chapters if you feel post time is an issue. Better to get in the quality time there than in a catching up thread.

[Official NPC]

OOC: I wasn't sure what mounts you meant them to have, since the anka can't survive the heat in the Badlands, so I glossed over them.

Wing Master Sattar Senae held a great hatred toward the Malaki for the loss of his parents, and for that reason would much prefer to be back in Vynett, or even just on perimeter patrol, fighting off the brutes. Instead, that hydra's head Tiana had gone over his head and the Sky Captain had assigned him to some sort of escort duty. Senae had tried to view this mission as an opportunity, to see it as Eotin placing great trust in his paranoid instincts, but he knew the truth. They wanted him out of the way so he couldn't do something "stupid". According to them, his actions in the past had already endangered the village, but in his mind, seeking justice could never be a bad thing.

And that was why he was so eager to meet these strangers. Lysaedra claimed they had bested an entire war party and survived several nasty encounters across the Badlands — on foot. Their feats were enough to have Tiana welcoming them into Vynett like long-lost friends, and sure enough, the other villagers had greeted them warmly. Mystriders were far superior in the air but they had chosen their home in the jungle for the near perfect camouflage of the tree cover. It normally worked; Malaki normally raided the human villages to the east or sometimes followed a myst into the canopy, but they rarely managed to find a Mystrider village. When they did, the whole clan would take to the air until the raiders were gone. They had no defences on the ground, so to meet a group like that just when they needed them the most was spectacular luck, a miracle sent by the sovereign. And there were more on the way?

“Anai, tu.” His greeting as he dismounted from Tran's saddle was unknowingly far less friendly than Lysaedra's had been to Faris' group, but was still warm. His grey eyes were filled to the brim with curiosity as his gaze raked across the group of humanoids, his bird-beak mask pushed up on to the top of his head. Since the other group had a telepath, he assumed they were common and scanned the faces of everyone present in search of one who would understand.

“I am Wing Master Sattar Senae. I come to take you to Vynett to meet your kin.” There were too many for his squadron to manage in one trip, however, especially with those strange creatures accompanying them. “Who goes first?”

[Alain]

Alain frowned as he tried to work out if he had enough supplies to maintain his own provisions and get drunk, or at least which of the two were most important at the time. Unfortunately, his decision was cut short by the massive crowding in the camp as the mystriders approached. He supposed he didn't have time to have a drink—now. When all was said and done, he was one of few capable of dealing with this situation, if not the only one within the reinforcements. His frown deepened when he knew that he had to piece together all of the information he gathered from the Mystrider's mind, and then actually communicate with this Sattar Senae, as well as his own people. He didn't give a damn if his pause left an awkward air as the Elysians looked at each other, and then to himself; He was a magistrate, not an ambassador, even if he might as well be at this point.

'Good evening, Wing Master.' Alain began telepathically, putting on an affable appearance before the Mystrider eyeballed him. 'I'm afraid I must tell my people what you intend—and that our kin are still, in fact, alive. I'm sure they'll be thrilled to hear the news.'

“It seems these people were looking for us, so that we could join them at one of their settlements.” Alain said pleasantly, pausing before delivering his final note, so they could have a moment to follow the next concept. “The vanguard is still alive, and fighting, it seems.”

Naturally, the downtrodden, pallid grimaces or otherwise combat-ready faces of the group lightened, some heartily cheering within the outer edges of the camp. Alain gave a casual shrug to the Wing Master, although unsure if the gesture would mean anything to him.

'It appears they are perhaps more thrilled than I thought. Though, they may not be as pleased to find how they are intended to travel.'

He was sure the eventual assurances would go along the lines of “There's nothing to worry about,” which Alain would treat suspiciously, as will the men present, undoubtedly. There's nothing to worry about was the kind of thing your dentist said as he weighted you down with his knee and poked pliers into your mouth.