David
Honing in her hearing, Roesia listened as intently as she possible could. "There." She spoke plainly, and pointed with a tilt from her head. Where she was gesturing to was the south western portion of the clearing, where a wall of trees stood like every other side. "That's where I hear it from." And so, the ranger waited as patient as she could. The closer the sound came, the more tense Roesia's arms became. Looking over to Astalios only for a moment, she watched as the spike dove into his armor and caused more armor to wash over his body like water. If she had more time, she'd ask him about just how amazing his powers were, but it seemed there was no more.

Now, the sound was clear. It *Was* Paws slamming into the dirt, alongside hoofbeats. Perhaps it was a pack of wolves hunting deer or elk just as they had? What a coincidence that would be. Pulling back her arrow just a hair more, the creatures in full sprint would burst from the treeline at any moment. A long pause of nothing but the light breeze and birds chirping from the trees filled the air, before suddenly the sound turned into shapes. Bursting from the trees were what looked to be a singular wolf, though it was significantly larger than your average wolf; a dire. On its back was a green skinned humanoid, one Astalios would easily recognize right away, an *Orc*. Not long after the orc mounted on a dire wolf fled from the trees, one, two then three wood elves on horseback came out and were close behind.

_ _
Roesia immediately recognized the wood elf's colors and banner, which was adorned across their light armor and clothing. It was the House of Elk, the wood elves of Alynthi. Without much thought, Roesia immediately took aim for the orc and fired an arrow, knowing that any threat to the House of Elk was a threat to the Greenheart Woods. They weren't known to attack unprovoked, so it was obvious this orc was some sort of invader or criminal. Her first arrow missed, so she nocked another one, but it was likely Astalios would hit it with his metal long before she'd get a chance. Instead of aiming for the orc, she instead targeted its mount. Perhaps the wood elves or even Astalios would want to question the orc.

*After all, Roesia knew Astalios to be an investigative man.*
Maria
The wood elves were hot on the orc's trail. One of the three were armed with a bow and arrow, and was taking shot after shot at the orc and its dire wolf. Not a single of the three elves or the orc seemed to notice Astalios or Roesia, at least initially. Turning back toward his pursuers, the orc seemed to conjure a magical ball of blue flame before chucking it back. The explosion caused one of the three riders to halt in their tracks, their horse rearing in fear as the explosion just barely missed them. While the rider was not knocked from his horse, he was now much farther behind than his fellow wood elves. Conjuring another fire ball, the orc looked forward and finally noticed the prince and huntress.

Roaring in anger, the orc instead flung his second fireball their way. Luckily, Roesia's arrow did strike the mount, but the dire wolf only seemed to flinch as it slammed into its shoulder. Bone likely stopped the arrow from going any deeper or hitting anything vital, allowing the wolf to continue pushing and running as hard as it could. Nevertheless, a blue ball of fire was hurdling its way toward Astalios and Roesia.
Richard
*His eyes followed hers, marking the details as she perceived them - the banner of the House of Elk stood out to his eyes clearly, and the sight of a dire wolf was an unusual one, but ultimately recognized in a moment. And the silhouette of an orc was all too familiar. 

Within the space of a moment, his actions were determined. Objective one - Protect the allies. Objective two - apprehend the orc immediately. Objective three - kill the dire wolf. Roesia's arrows fired, one after the other - and the wolf kept charging towards them. Then the roar, and the ball of blue fire, illuminating the trees, the glint of the steel armor reflecting black the light of the magic. His blood ran so cold that it burned at the sight of the projectile racing towards them. 

This orc dared?

He dared to enter the Greenheart itself, run from his men, shoot fire at both him and the elves that followed him? How dare he? His face contorted into a snarl the likes of which he had not felt in quite some time - and the fire within suddenly roared, finally being allowed to touch the fuel it had been starved of for so long. It flared high, swiftly filling his being with the fury that he fully intended to exact upon this orc.

Now, for the execution. 

His hand came forward, as if he was throwing a javelin, and in a fluid motion, he swiped at the air. The arrowhead that had gone flying past the dire wolf and the one stuck in its shoulder bent to his command, and suddenly jerked off their courses, leaving the splintered wood of their arrow shafts behind as the metal was pulled by the unseen force of the Iron Prince's magic, drawn towards the head of the direwolf like bolts from a crossbow each. They embedded themselves in the sides of the wolf's neck - and promptly shattered inwards like glass in a spray of metal fragments, shredding through the neck of the animal in a vicious swath of steel splinters that tore its head from its shoulders.*

_ _
*As he followed through on the motion, the armor that had previously washed over his body like water to solidify as a protective layer of plating once more liquefied and shot off of his body to form a large plane of iron in front of him, the swipe of his arm bringing the metal plate through the fireball and directing it upwards like a rock in a stream, blocking the roiling orb of fire from reaching either of them as it flowed around the barrier. This was not to go unpunished, he thought to himself. This orc would know the pain of his mistake by his hand - a future which was exceedingly imminent as he melted the steel once again into quicksilver, twin silver spikes forming once again as he readied for a follow-up on the downed orc.

Through it all, his pulse seemed to have risen, the beating of his heart echoing through his chest. He felt alive, invincible, irresistible. This orc was in the wrong place, sure - but perhaps deep in his heart, he had longed for the thrill of the kill, and as the blood and viscera sprayed from the shredded neck of the direwolf, Astalios marveled at the rush that he felt observing the mismatched shower of red and silver as he collected the shrapnel pieces of the arrowheads, readying them too into a smaller third spike to attack the orc with, should he continue.*

***"SURRENDER NOW."*** *His voice thundered out like a great war-drum, eyes alive with the rage of a man whose kingdom had been threatened. Whose home was in danger.* ***"DO NOT DARE TO CAST ANOTHER SPELL."***
David
Nocking her third arrow, the huntress hesitated to fire when she saw Astalios move his hand forward. She never loosened the pull on her string, but couldn't help but watch the prince do what he did best; something she'd never truly witnessed in such a way before. Sure, the wolves from before were one thing, but they were almost a tag team at this point. She shot the steel he used to practically decapitate the orc's mount, the dire wolf standing no chance at surviving such a blow. By now, Roesia was simply watching in complete awe of Astalios' power. Just how strong was he?

The orc remained however, which meant Roesia had to remain on her toes. Tightening the grip on her bow string, Roesia aimed for the orc's shoulder instead of anywhere vital, as it was obvious Astalios wished to interrogate him. It was only when the fireball came hurdling towards the two of them did Roesia flinch, but only for a mere second as Astalios dispersed it with a metal plate. Roesia's eyes widened in disbelief. Never had she seen someone have such a deep and total control of magic, let alone specifically types of metals. Roesia looked past the orc for a moment to the wood elves, who were now practically on top of the man now that his mount came skidding to a halt. Keeping her aim true on the orc, Roesia called out to the wood elves, hoping they'd understand that she and Astalios were not threat, though the closer they got the more likely it'd be that they'd recognize the prince of Alynthi.

_ _
"Do not harm him! His royal highness Prince Astalios Dilitrios wishes to apprehend him!" Roesia had not only heard stories of the wood elves in each major forest, she had *Witnessed* The House of Elk specifically. They were brutal to intruders, and if neither the prince or Roesia spoke up to stop them, the orc would be dead in seconds. Not once did the huntress take aim for the wood elves, for they were allies both in this situation and outside of it. By their blessing, she was allowed to live within these woods. Roesia would be damned to make enemies of them. Only flickering her eyes over to Astalios, it was clear the upcoming diplomacy wasn't something Roesia was exactly thrilled about. The House of Elk were extremely protective over the Greenheart.

*Even when the royalty that laid claim over it was involved.*
Maria
As the steel from Roesia's arrow was used even more against the dire wolf, the orc began to conjure another blue fireball, only to be thrown forward abruptly as his mount's neck was shredded to pieces. The poor beast's head barely clung on by bone and muscles, and skidded to a halt in the dirt and grass as blood pooled and sprayed from its body. The wood elves slowed their pace ever so slighty, the third finally catching up and taking aim at the green humanoid before the prince's voice alongside Roesia's caused all three to halt. Now that they were in clearer view, Astalios and Roesia could see clearly it was a woman and two men, the woman holding the bow and an arrow aimed at the orc's head. The two male riders were armed with delicately crafted swords, which were both held poised and ready to strike. Roesia's warning meant very little to them, but the orc seemed to stop running when he realized there was nowhere left to go.

One of the two male wood elves rode forward, holding out his sword to the orc's head as it stood completely still, hands in full view of each elf present. It was obvious he had surrendered for now, but now Prince Astalios would have a different battle to deal with. The second male wood elf, a much older man rode past the orc and approached the prince and Roesia. A heavy look of irritation and confusion rest on his face, though he nodded in respect of the prince regardless. *"Hael (greetings), your highness."* The older wood elf spoke, before turning to look back at the orc. *"We tracked a band of these intruders from the west; Dasvaz. They're a long way from home it seems. We've dealt with the rest, but this one tried to flee."* Barely able to finish speaking, the younger male wood elf spat toward the orc, though his eyes were on the prince.

_ _
*"Katte heet thu ulf'heiden creasa. Het es orde.(We have this under control. He is ours.)"* The younger wood elf angrily spoke. The female chose to remain quiet, but her eyes seemed to be glued to Roesia, as her bow remained tight in her hands aimed toward the orc. It was obvious even the though the fighting was over, tensions were still high between the individuals gathered in the clearing. The orc remained silent for the time being, but then began to laugh with a wheeze as a light trickle of blood dripped down his face from his forehead, likely from the tumble after being thrown from his mount. *"Zidgar obod tung nash ru khobdud. (Filthy elves, kill me and be done with it.)"*
Richard
*The sense of satisfaction that came over him as he witnessed the orc fall was sick, he knew, and it should not have felt so much pleasure at the prospect of killing as he did when the wolf's head was detached from the prospect of living. But as the head rolled, and the orc was apprehended, he walked forward calmly, a respectful nod returned to the older elf who had given him the proper respect. 

The orc, perhaps, knew who he was, and Astalios wondered if he might be able to use his position to leverage a little scare out of him. He stood by, and waited silently for the elves to take their positions as his eyes scrounged the area for Roesia. As he found her beside him, he gave her a nod in respect as well.*

"I owe you two arrows." *He spoke in Elvish, the flowing tone of the language playing over his tongue like a warm breeze through the trees. His accent seemed closest to that of a high elf, but there were different elements mixed in as he continued, and a distinctive wood elf color to a few of the words. His eyes returned to the House of Elk.*

"You are correct. This is your forest." *He spoke solidly, abruptly for an elf, but with a commanding tone that carried through the air like the ringing of a great bell as the language they shared rolled from his mouth.* "Your right is to deal with him. As it is mine to command you to do so. Ask him why he came, from where he came, and when he came. Then dispose of him."

*Each of these factors would play key parts in identifying the threat to Alynthi's stability - and that stability was not a state that Astalios was willing to throw into jeopardy. His response to the House of Elk meant that they would still follow through with their duty, but carry out his commands as they did so - entrusting them with another task instead of taking away their ability to perform what they had been assigned. However, perhaps they already knew the source of the orc menace, and could offer some guidance on the matter.*

_ _
*Ultimately, he could brook no challenges, either - and as he scanned the House of Elk with his gaze, it met the eyes of the younger elf, fixing him with a stare that conveyed the weight of his word as he spoke them. That snarl may have faded as the orc was captured, but the emotion that had driven it, and the uncoiling of the beast of anger within his heart, was still very much ongoing.

The three spikes began to coalesce once more into two solid masses - first the spikes liquefied once more into mercury, then flowed together into a ball of fluid that splashed itself over Astalios's body and wrapped him in silver gossamer, the strands rearranging themselves into the form of the same armor, the golden circlet upon his head, the dagger at his waist, and two arrowheads that circled above his palm, floating back over to Roesia as he made sure they matched the rest in her quiver.

They had to admit, he thought to himself, that they did or didn't speak orcish. If they questioned him without the help of Astalios, they were capable elves, and he would not interrupt But should they lie to him, he would know.*
David
Roesia dipped her head respectfully to the wood elves, and quickly lowered her bow into a more idle position in her hands. Hearing Astalios speak elven her way, Roesia turned her gaze to him instead and simply offered a nod. This entire conversation had little to do with a huntress such as herself. While she wasn't close to the wood elves of the Greenheart, they knew of her presence and vice versa. She hunted to survive, something they themselves partook in. Never did she hunt for sport, and today was proof of that. Watching curiously as Astalios pulled the metal from the dire wolf back to himself. It was quite the sight to behold, watching him morph metal like it were water. Holding out her hands for the arrowheads, Roesia calmly held them before putting them into one of the many pouches on her sides. Wood would be a lot easier to carve for the arrows than finding more metal for the heads. The huntress definitely appreciated Astalios' attention to her arrows after he had used them through magic.

While Roesia spoke no orc, her elvish was fluid. The words that poured from the orcs mouth were entirely foreign to her. The way the man spat towards Astalios caused Roesia to tense, but not enough to raise her bow his way. They were just words, nothing more. So long as the orc remained with his hands where all could see, Roesia would keep her bow down and allow the House of Elk to handle the intruder. She did however move a bit closer to Astalios' side, only to speak quietly back to him. "Is he from Dasvaz...?" Roesia was more than aware of the small war between Alynthi and Dasvaz, and tensions were still high. An orc being *This* Far from its own nation however was strange indeed. She remained slightly behind the prince however, as she didn't want anyone to think she was on an equal level as a royal such as Astalios. She was nothing more than a simple hunter.
Maria
"You do not command me." The young wood elf spat at the prince, but the elder raised his hand calmly. Looking back down to Astalios from his white steed, the older wood elf bowed his head in apologies. *"Aedragh (apologies), your highness. My son still needs to learn when his tongue is to be held, or let loose."* The father looked back to his son with a fiery look in his eyes, causing the young man to glare back, but ultimately he remained silent afterwards. Before Astalios could answer Roesia's question, the elder nodded. *"Indeed. His markings match a well known tribe from Dasvaz. We caught them on the outskirts of the Greenheart to the west, though they had no slaves or stolen goods with them. Likely scouts."* Turning back to the female wood elf, the elder gestured toward the orc. *"Bind him."* Without hesitation, the female dismounted from her brown and black steed and jumped tot he ground, before locking the orc's hands with a peculiar type of band that seemed to glow yellow.

*"I am sure you recognize those bands, your highness. His magic will no longer be a problem for anyone."* Pushing the orc forward with her boot, the wood elf forced the green man to his knees before the prince. The orc growled angrily before looking up to the prince, his words obviously falling on deaf ears before. It seemed none of the wood elves spoke orcish, but it was obvious the orc recognized the prince. *"The Iron Stag-"* The orc started, a vicious smile on his face, *"-you are a long way from your castle, pretty boy. I don't intend on telling you anything, so kill me and be done with it, ob-hakhtil hagshad (bastard half-breed)."*

_ _
As the orc finished speaking it spat at the prince's feet, but a feeling would begin to swell in Astalios' chest. A feeling he'd be more than familiar with. It was fiery and hot, like the flames of a forge. It beckoned the prince to raise his steel to the orc man, a faint voice in the back of his head commanding him to do the very same. ***"Kill him."*** It spoke plainly, the voice one likely would recognize. *Anthron.*
Richard
*The words and actions of Roesia were subtle and well-suited to the situation, very much non-intrusive, and precluded any entanglement in the politics at play. He spoke back to her in the same way he might talk to an advisor, in quick words that got the point across quickly. What needed attention now was the balance of power between the House of Elk and him - and the severity of the orc threat.*

"I believe so. The markings on his face indicate he is from a tribe that we have encountered before on the border." *It was a simple thing to relay the information.* "Which is concerning, given that this means they have traveled the length of the country. They were caught on the west of the Greenheart. If they were scouts, then perhaps there are more of them hiding."

*As the younger elf spoke, Astalios spared him nothing more than a passing glance, then focused his attention on the father, whose authority was clear. There was no point in speaking to those who made inflammatory statements for their prides. Perhaps he might have been a good soldier, and dutiful, but he forgot his place, and when his father reminded him of that particular issue, he was satisfied to see the order of things fall into place. The apology came.*

"You fulfill your duty with pride and dedication." *The elven words were directed at the father, but perhaps could inform the son as well - he knew just how the indignation of being robbed of a target felt.* "And you are wise to recognize the *Full extent* Of that duty, sir." *Fealty, he knew, was sworn ultimately to the Dilitirios family, and to Alynthi. Though a lord might rule their lands, and take good care of them, the king's authority was above them all, and the duty he had alluded to included their allegiance to him and to his family. It was good that the young one was learning, and the older was teaching this most important of lessons.

Now, he had to navigate the proper respect towards them while still asserting that authority.*

_ _

"Well done." *He nodded his head once more in respect to the father and the elven woman that had bound the orc in front of them. As his vitriol came streaming towards the prince, he observed the situation unfolding - the orc, disrespectful, the father, guarded and calm, the son, eager to finish his duty, and the daughter, quietly doing her job.

And then the sensation of old hit him - the voice spoke in his mind as the spittle of the orc landed between his feet, a deep anger that was augmented by that serpent that inhabited his mind, the hidden ambush of Anthron, speaking in the voice that called to his heart, bypassed his mind.

Kill him.

His arm reacted almost before it was too late, a monstrous, shattering amalgamation of metal sliding towards his gauntlet to form a glowing hot razor-pointed claw that came up towards the orc's neck, like the sharp implements of a rabid animal that rippled in anger, the deep red glow of the iron radiating heat as he went. This insult? It was insufferable! It was... NO!

The knifelike claws suddenly stopped before they could impale the orc's head, then heat washing over the orc like a wave from the ocean. In that moment, the mask of civility and the regimented discipline he hoped to keep in place, had failed him. And he had nearly cost them a diplomatic incident. He forced the metal to retract along his arm, reforming itself into the gauntlet he had been wearing beforehand. Cooled back to a normal temperature.*

"My apologies to you, sir." *He spoke to the older elf in a respectful tone through the gritted teeth of a man attempting to wrest back control of himself.* "It is your duty to dispose of him, and I would have betrayed myself and you. Please continue."

*It was a near thing, he thought to himself as he forced that white-hot snarling core of light back into the dark corners of his heart. It would not be allowed to happen again, for the sake of the kingdom. He had to be better.*