The forests of Teutonia were dark and oppressive, the canopy of the densely packed trees  shutting out the light from above. The ground was littered with dead leaves, the only green shoots those of hardy ferns and other bracken.<br/><br/>He walked beneath the shadows of the trees, avoiding the scant beams of sunlight that broke through to reach the ground, although it would not harm him, it still was uncomfortable when it touched his flesh. His footfalls in the undergrowth crackled upon the the dry leaves, stick and needles, it have been several weeks since he had last seen rains in these lands, something that was making his journey a little less arduous.<br/><br/>It had been nearly 6 years since he had left his home of Dyur’Turic, deep within the South Western region of the Underdark, home of the Drow. A place of hardships, danger and death to any careless wanderer and a threat even to those more accomplished or wary.<br/><br/>His time upon the surface had been spent exploring the other lands and nations, many of which he was not welcome within, but a lone traveller was often able to travel unhindered and unnoticed where more would not.<br/><br/>His appearance kept most curious passers-by at bay, a pair of large black feathered wings protruding from his back, armoured in dark sturdy leather and walking with a warrior’s gait, large bone bladed glaive held in his hand as he crouched to inspect the ground. Fingertips lightly disturbing the leaves and debris out of the way, feeling beneath the hardened ground still held the footprints of those who had passed this way before.<br/><br/>The rumours of his old friend had led him this far and now within these dark woodlands he hoped his quest was at an end. It was 6 months past since he had discovered word of the final resting place of DoRn, friend, companion, fellow traveller and mighty warrior.<br/><br/>He hoped to visit this place, pay his last respects and find some peace for not being there at his end.<br/><br/>It took several more hours of following the trails of those before him who came to visit this site. As the sun began to set, dusk drawing in, he came to the edge of a clearing. As he had walked the path became clearer, as travellers converged on the final approach to the shrine.<br/><br/>Around the clearing stood a series of stone pillars, topped with a hanging lantern to light the way to the centre of the clearing where stood the stone shrine.<br/><br/>He laughed to himself, DoRn would not known what to have done with himself to see his memories and accomplishments revered so. Of course DoRn hadn’t stood alone at the time of his death, so the stories said, so this place was to all who fell ridding Erdreja of the corrupt pack of weres.<br/><br/>Talking a slow walk up the promenade to the shrine he became aware of the carvings on the outside, scenes depicting the mighty battle that had taken place here, images of heroism for all who did their part and stood their ground for those who could not. Despite how many of those who lived upon the Egg would see him, he was not evil in the traditional sense, he respected those who stood for what they believed in and did what needed to be done for the good of the Egg.<br/><br/>Stepping inside of the shrine, the scent of incense strong in the air, his keen senses filled with their cloying scent. He was sure that to a creature with duller senses it would be pleasant to him, less so.<br/><br/>Walking through the hall, decorated as the outside with scenes of the great battle between the weres of the pack and DoRn, Avatar of Justice and his fellow warriors, even the title made him smile. How a creature of Chaos such as DoRn was elevated to Avatar of Justice had always amused him, the cosmic irony of it all.<br/><br/>Reaching the end of the hall, the wall behind DoRn’s sarcophagus depicted his friend stood upon a mound of bodies of his foes, the stories say he slew twenty or more of the pack himself that day. Nodding in respect as he knelt before the stone coffin “Hello old friend. It is I, Malkier.” his head bowed somberly “I am sorry I wasn’t there, it shouldn’t have ended this way”<br/><br/>*****************************************************************<br/><br/>It had been a long journey to the shrine, and although Deryn’s companions were exhausted, she hummed with an unexplainable energy. She knew that it was the adventure – the feeling of sleeping on the earth and not knowing what you were going to find during the next day – that caused a lot of her restlessness, but it was the distaste that came from Bran that really fueled the fire inside of her. Stepping on his toes and irritating the older, silver haired gentleman was one of her only forms of entertainment during the rather boring journey into the forests of Teutonia.<br/><br/>“Deryn,” Bran said sternly as they walked alongside one another, the sound of their footsteps muffled by the dirt road under their feet. She could still hear the heaviness in each of his steps, and he was close enough that she could reach out and grab ahold of his shoulder without much effort. The rest of the party either walked on the other side of the wagon or rode astride a horse near the front or the back of the company. Deryn was fortunate enough to have been selected to travel along the side with Bran, mainly because she was the newest one in the group to the Order and no one else really wanted to deal with the stuffy old man. “Have you enjoyed the trip thus far?”<br/><br/>Of course, the topic of conversation would be about the journey they were making. While generally honest in conversation with others, Deryn knew that she couldn’t be this time. If she were to tell Bran that he was making this the worst adventure of her entire life, she knew she’d hurt his feelings.<br/><br/>Perhaps that wasn’t such a bad idea after all.<br/><br/>“Oh, it’s been an eye opening experience.” Deryn replied flatly. She looked around them, watching the sun sinking below the tree line and the hum of the wildlife start to come to life as nightfall began to descend upon them. Bran grunted with approval, as if Deryn needed it.<br/><br/>“Well that’s nice to hear. I suppose you’d need to explore the world more. You know, after being cooped up in Winchester for most of your life. I’d expect you’d have more questions. Perhaps when we return home, I can teach you a little more about Teutonia.”<br/><br/>Deryn groaned internally at the offer, knowing that he’d drag on and on about old folk tales that held little truth than the fairytales her grandmother would tell her as a child. “I’d rather poke my eye out,” Deryn muttered, which prompted Bran to give her a questioning look. She cleared her throat quickly, covering her reply with another statement instead. “Sorry, I mumbled. I said that I’d be rather interested in hearing you out. Do you think we’ll have enough time to talk about everything?”<br/><br/>As his voice carried on the conversations, mainly one sided due to her lack of interest, Deryn got lost in her thoughts of the grand adventure that she had hoped she’d experience. Most of the people that she travelled with upheld the code that the knighthood stood for, the honor of fighting for the kingdom and the people that lived there – the respect of the King and those that ruled over the land of Albion. Deryn, on the other hand, was the exception. She stood for what was right, even if that meant going against those that she claimed loyalty to. While joining the knighthood had been seen as an accomplishment to her relatives and friends, it was a means to get to where she wanted to be, and that was out from beneath the feet of the nobility and into a life of absolute freedom where she didn’t have to obey the rules of anyone but herself.<br/><br/>Perhaps her path to that paradise was an odd one, but the minute that Deryn saw her escape from Albion, she was willing to take it, even if that meant stepping on the toes of the King that gave her purpose.<br/><br/>She wasn’t known as an easy person to work with, although she was more fun than a lot of the others. There were a few that had similar outlooks on life as she did, and she got along well with those individuals, but many of the other people within her rank were just as stuffy as Bran and generally bored her to tears. During this excursion, her companions were a hard sell when it came to a good joke, so Deryn did her best to remain as tame as possible. At least, until the walkway to the shrine came into view.<br/><br/>“Now, Deryn, you'll need to make sure you don't touch anything while we’re inside. We wouldn't want another episode to get back to the King.” Bran dutifully reminded her as they unloaded a few items from the wagon and prepared their friends to keep an eye on things while two or three of them took a step inside to pay their respects. Bran, as the unofficial organizer of the group, had suggested they stop and leave a token of gratitude from Albion for those who fought the Weres.<br/><br/>Deryn rolled her eyes at Bran’s reminder, but kept her mouth shut as she waited patiently for him to finish whatever task he was doing. Although she didn't like being stuck with Bran, she tolerated him enough because he took her under his wing and allowed her to do things that others wouldn't. Perhaps he didn't think she was that insufferable and maybe she didn't mind him as much as she thought she did.<br/><br/>Finally, when he was finished, Bran motioned for Deryn to follow him and together, they walked up an incline to the walkway.<br/><br/>“Do you see these?” Deryn asked as she excitedly pointed to the ornate scenes on the outside of the structure. Deryn reached out to trace one with her bare fingers, but Bran quickly intervened by grabbing her wrist.<br/><br/>“For being such a superstitious brat, you really don't listen. I said do not touch anything, Deryn. Do not make me force you to stay with the others.” Bran’s mouth thinned as he frowned at her, and Deryn scowled at him as she rubbed her wrist in the spot his fingers had dug into her pale skin.<br/><br/>“You don't have to be so rough, you know.” Deryn muttered, but Bran ignored her as he walked inside the building. Immediately upon entering, Deryn caught the scent of something floral and fragrant. Lavender perhaps, but not nearly as strong as what she was used to. It was pleasant and assaulted her senses until her eyes could adjust.<br/><br/>“Don't lag behind, my dear.” Bran's words called out to her. “We don't have enough time to worry about you getting lost.”<br/><br/>Deryn mimicked him silently as she trailed behind him slightly. Bran turned down a corridor in front of her, and because she was feeling somewhat rebellious, she decided to keep walking down the main hallway. Bran didn't seem to notice; he was much too focused on the solo conversation he was having with himself.<br/><br/>Eventually, Deryn reached the end and stood in a room where an image of someone standing on the bodies if their enemies rose before her. She awed for a moment before realizing she wasn't alone and that there was something….odd...about the individual with her. Casually, as if not to raise too much suspicion, she observed for a moment, watching the man that captured her curiosity.<br/><br/>It didn't take her long to inch closer to him. Her hazel eyes drank in the dark wings on his back. Her slender fingers itched with a desire to touch them. What would Bran say? Deryn thought to herself, but her internal monologue didn't last very long. Bran said she couldn't touch anything, not anyone. Braver and likely more stupid than she had ever been in her entire life, Deryn reached out toward the man and pressed her palm against the softness on his back.<br/><br/>**********************************************<br/><br/>His keen senses picked up the sounds of others entering the shrine, his friend would have laughed at how he had changed in these last few years, since they had last seen each other. Before they had both been outcasts trying to fit into a society that they were seen as nothing more than highly valued slaves, and so they had essentially ran away, seeking a home where they fit.<br/><br/>They had found that, back in Lion’s lands, Lantia, those islands further to the South had been home for several years. House SoulSplitter, a mercenary unit had been their ‘family’, they travelled the Heartlands working for whichever nation was willing to pay them the most, in time they had moved to Viper lands here in Teutonia.<br/><br/>It was in this move that Malkier had left them and his friend behind. He had sought out information about his own origins, following leads across the nations, travelling the length and breadth of the egg and he had visited every Heartland nation at some point.<br/><br/>The only downside was despite many years of wandering and travel he was no wiser, he had a greater understanding of his nature and the origins of his race, but his own past still eluded him, frustratingly so.<br/><br/>Deep in his meditative state, thinking over his past Malkier did not hear the quiet footsteps approach behind him, the touch to his back broke his reverie.<br/><br/>Wings extending outward as he whirled to face who had approached so close without his noticing, his broad stature combined with the arched extensions of his wings, blocking out the lights of the torches behind him, casting long dark shadows over the young woman and down the corridor behind her.<br/><br/>Several feathers drifted through the air between them, their slow rocking descent making it seem as if time had slowed between them. Malkier’s eyes narrowed as he scrutinised this new comer. Now aware of them, all of hs senses drew in information about the woman who stood before him, his nose picking up the strange scent of her, crisp and clean over the top of the smell of horses and the surrounding lands, he could hear the beat of her heart, almost feel the rhythmic beat of her heart.<br/><br/>She appeared to have no weapon drawn, holding herself in a non threatening but clearly inquisitive manner, he slowly felt that fight instinct subside, it had been many years now since the flight reaction had been within him. Removing his hand from the hilt of his knife at his belt, light slowly returning to the room as his wings folded back behind him. Head cocked slightly to the side Malkier finally spoke “I’ve been to most realms on this Egg and nowhere have I been that it is common practice to greet someone in that manner. Especially someone unknown.” Running a hand through his long dark hair, tucking stray strands behind his ear, head tilting to either side as he studied her, he was uncertain if they were alone, if they were this evening would not end well for the young woman.<br/><br/>“Name yourself girl.” his voice curt and not used to the pleasantries that the surfacers accorded each other at most times “Where have you come from and how many are you?”<br/><br/>A sharp sound echoed around the corridors, the sound of a heel upon stone, Malkier looked up past the young woman to see who else came their way, likely drawn by voices, sound carried strangely in these halls.<br/><br/>*****************************************************<br/><br/>There weren’t many things in Deryn’s past that she openly regretted. Every action happened for a specific reason, in her opinion, whether or not she was conscious of the grand plan behind them. But as the nerve endings in the tip of her fingers touched the softness of the man’s black feathers, Deryn regretted ever entertaining the idea of her curiosity. It was rude, most unbecoming, and absolutely insane. This was not a familiar land to her, and while most of the people her company had encountered during their journey had been somewhat friendly, she could not just assume that everyone would be. This was not Albion. This was somewhere new, foreign, and strange. People would not take kindly to her instinctual and spontaneous behavior, especially not when it came to touching another person without their permission.<br/><br/>Hadn’t this been what her grandfather had warned her about before she’d left?<br/><br/>Hazel eyes widened as her fingers dropped from the feathers, and the body she’d touched turned on her. Deryn scrambled backward, stumbling as she did so until she collapsed onto the stone floor. Her body colliding with the hard ground made a dull thud as her leather gear padded her body from the impact, but her ego was well beyond bruised. There was a surprised flush on her cheeks, and while her mouth attempted to open and apologize, the only sound that escaped was a small squeal of surprise.<br/><br/>Deryn eventually gained her composure and stood on her feet. There were several feathers that fell between her and the man, and she felt like they stood there for a long while, looking at one another, trying to figure each other out before words were actually spoken. She wasn’t quite intimidated, which would be her downfall one day, but the surprise still shown in her large, widened eyes as she realized several things in those short, yet long moments of silence.<br/><br/>The first was that the feathers were beautiful and unique – something she’d never seen before, and something she’d always wondered about. What other types of people were there in the world? What all had she been missing for all of these years? The world grew for her in that moment, but in the next, she wondered if she’d ever get the chance to see it.<br/><br/>The second understanding that she came to was that this individual, that she’d openly violated in what she considered her only source of regret, could annihilate her with just one smoldering look if he so wished. At least, that was what she assumed as her eyes roamed beyond the feathers that had captured her attention to begin with. She didn’t catch any scents as he had from her, but the way her heartbeat thrummed in her ears was deafening and she was positive he could hear it based on the way he looked at her. There were no other sounds, just the ticking of her mortality, and the fuel of adrenaline through her veins made it a little difficult to calm herself. She really hadn’t been expecting him to turn on her so quickly. She’d let her guard down, but with the same token, so had he.<br/><br/>It was with that thought that Deryn regained her composure and took a deep, steadying breath. While the war with herself seemed to have dragged on forever, it was probably just a few short moments in actuality. She opened her mouth to apologize yet again, sure that she would be able to get the words out properly, but the man had his own thoughts he wished to express, and Deryn found herself stuck as he cut her off before she’d even had a chance to start.<br/><br/>At first, his statements caused her to swallow hard, but when the words “Name yourself girl” came out of his mouth, Deryn arched a thin eyebrow and settled her hands on her hips. “You know, I was going to apologize for my curiosities, but I’m not entirely sure you deserve one now.” Deryn rolled her eyes and shook her head slightly. “While I’m sure you’ve been many places on this Egg as you’ve stated, I have to wonder if you also have no sense of manners either.”<br/><br/>“How about you name yourself, tell me where about you come from, and how many of you there are?” Deryn retorted, the hint of a smirk on her lips as she danced with the fear of being smited by a winged man on the spot.  Would the Gods be cruel enough to do something like that to her? Most probably, but such was life. “I think that would be a much more interesting story than the answers I would give you instead.”<br/><br/>Deryn took a step toward him, her arms no longer at her sides. She bent quickly and retrieved one of the fallen feathers, raising it to her eyes and then smiling. She quickly tucked the feather inside a small bag on her belt, the smile still on her face as she met his eyes again. “My name is….”<br/><br/>“Deryn!” The older, male voice that she’d been avoiding echoed in the room. The auburn haired woman closed her eyes with dread and her back straightened more than it had before. She was in trouble. Big trouble, and the look on her face likely spoke as much.<br/><br/>Her first thought was to run for it, but there was only one way into the room that she could see. Bran was headed that way, and while she couldn’t see his shadow, she could hear his heavy footsteps echoing quickly. He called her name a few more times and Deryn teetered on the balls of her feet, looking around the room for a hiding place as desperately as she could. There was the large statue, and while normally she wouldn’t have any qualms with hiding behind that, if Bran did catch her, he’d whip her for touching something within the shrine and then she’d be reported to His Highness yet again.<br/><br/>With a resigned sigh, she counted softly to herself and squeezed her eyes shut. “Five….”<br/><br/>The seconds ticked by, one by one. “Four….”<br/><br/>She wasn’t entirely sure what would happen when Bran entered the room. Perhaps he wouldn’t reprimand her in front of a complete stranger. “Three….”<br/><br/>Who was she kidding? Of course he would. “Two….”<br/><br/>She was doomed. Doomed to always fail. Doomed to always cause trouble. Doomed to always touch people because her curiosity was going to get her killed. “One….”<br/><br/>Deryn held her breath as the older man entered the large room and immediately, she could feel Bran’s eyes land on her back. “Deryn! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you. What is wrong with you, my dear? Can you not listen to a simple set of instructions? I swear when your grandfather said you’d be a lot to handle, well, I thought that maybe you’d be more well behaved then this. You could have gotten yourself killed or worse – kidnapped.”<br/><br/>He hadn’t noticed the man with the wings yet. Deryn wondered what would happen when he did.<br/><br/>*****************************************************<br/><br/>Had he been inclined to Malkier probably still wouldn’t have been able to prevent the amused smile from spreading across his face as the young woman adopted her defiant stance, hands placed upon her hips and eyebrow raised, her clean scent becoming spiky and with a slight bitter tang to it. The amusement came from both her defiance and unawareness of potential danger, it had been a while since some essential stranger had stood up to him like this, usually his initial appearance gave many pause for concern, his smile then normally did the rest and then to be stood there so openly in front of an armed individual in such an open stance, it was clear any martial training had gone out of the window at his choice of words.<br/><br/>As she began making her stand, words furiously tumbling forth, the smirk did not shift from his own face. He had to admit her stubbornness was a potentially useful quality if she could harness it properly.<br/><br/>Malkier quirked an eyebrow as the young woman bent down to collect one of his fallen feathers, tucking it into a small pouch at her belt. She began to introduce herself but getting cut short by a man’s voice echoing through the halls of the shrine. Malkier guessed that he was calling after the young woman stood before him, especially based upon the change in her demeanour.<br/><br/>Watching her passively, head tilting slowly from side to side as he studied her, his heightened hearing picking up the traces of her whispered counting, perplexed his brow furrowed, he could hear the footsteps of the new comer arriving, the scent of horses, leather and a smoky overtone.<br/><br/>As he came into the room, eyes focused on Deryn, his own barrage of chastising questions. If this one of her travelling companions, Malkier could see where Deryn got some of her demeanour from, although the way she had shrunk back in on herself at the tone of this man, she was clearly not comfortable with the situation.<br/><br/>His smile returning as he stepped forward making his presence known, hands tucked into his sleeves in front of him as he did so, his voice quiet, hard and cold, “Young Lady Deryn here was learning more about this hallowed place from one closely linked to one of this sites greatest warriors…” Malkier stopped less than an arms length from the old man, stepping past Deryn  to interspace himself between Deryn and the new comer “… and who might you be to come chastising her for wanting to learn and defiling the peace of this final resting place?”<br/><br/>Malkier was pretty certain that his own appearance, both physical and from the shadows unannounced was the source of the strange sound Bran made, something akin to trying to swallow his own tongue. Malkier turned his head, looking back over his shoulder “Nice to make your acquaintance Mistress Deryn, should you wish to know more we can continue our conversation on outside, but remember sometimes one should look and not touch” with that he turned back stepping around the old man, his robes softly swishing along the smooth flagstones muffling the click of his boots.<br/><br/>Outside Malkier breathed deep of the night air, there were several others, presumably of the same group that the old man and Deryn belonged to, he leant his glaive against a nearby candle lit pillar, as he stretched out his wings and worked loose the muscles in his neck. The nervous murmurs and whispers coming from the group made him smile and chuckle inwardly. It had always been this way, even before he had become something more and been welcomed by his new brothers.<br/><br/>*************************************************<br/><br/>And it was over in a blink of an eye.<br/><br/>At least, that’s what she’d thought as Bran’s voice chastised her for running off again. Deryn knew she was doomed to be sent back home to Albion, forbidden to leave the confines of Winchester for the rest of her boring, meaningless life. Bran held the power to dictate her future, and that fact – that very fact – was the one thing that she hated more than anything in her entire life; the fact that someone aside from her could decide where and how the direction of her life was going to twist and turn. She’d always believed a little more in Fate and free will than most. The Gods, in her mind, guided, but never took away the one thing that made being human worth it – the ability to choose. But in a way, Fate was doing that to her now, and as Bran’s words forced her to cringe inwardly, she cursed Fate in a way she never had before.<br/><br/>“Enemies are plentiful wherever we go,” Bran pointed a gloved finger at her and shook it menacingly. Deryn stared at his salt and pepper colored hair, telling herself that he acted more like her grandfather than her grandfather did. It was to be expected, though. Bran was truly an honorable man, one that treated her like a daughter or granddaughter more so than a ward he had to watch over. He was old and getting older with each day, and perhaps that was why the King and his men decided to place Bran at the head of Deryn’s company. They had been given a simple task, after all. One that couldn’t easily be diverted, and if it should fail for any reason, would not be detrimental to the kingdom and it’s people. Deryn and Bran and the rest were just delivering a message, no more than couriers for the King.<br/><br/>Deryn had half a mind to speak up and give the old man a piece of her mind for embarrassing her in front of strangers as he was, but as she went to clear her throat, darkness moved out of the corner of her eye, and feathers distracted her view. She learned a lot about her victim in that brief moment, and as she listened to his deep voice combat that of Bran’s, Deryn couldn’t help but wonder. How was he connected to this place, or rather, who connected him here? She glanced around the room and her eyes lingered on the looming shrine of the warrior.<br/><br/>“Apparently I’m Lady Deryn’s keeper.” The older man replied under his breath after a moment, tossing a raised eyebrow in the winged man’s direction as he addressed Deryn directly. Deryn felt a blush creep to her cheeks, silently thanking the dark stranger with her eyes as she watched him depart. A stupid grin appeared on her face as he commented on looking instead of touching, and her fingers tugged a stray, auburn curl behind her ear before she pressed her slim fingers to her lips to hide the look from Bran. He caught the look anyway, and tossed her a glare that said just how much trouble she was truly in. But Deryn being Deryn frowned as the winged stranger left the large room. Perhaps Fate was only giving her a taste of what her future held, after all.<br/><br/>“Do you regard yourself a scholar?” Her voice disturbed the soft whispers as Deryn approached the shadowy figure leaning against the candle lit pillar. “It is not everyday that one gets offered a history lesson.” Deryn paused, putting her hands on her hips once again as she stood before him. There was a thoughtful expression on her face as she considered her statement before retracting it in her mind. She had been offered history lessons for most of this journey, all thanks to the rather disgruntled old man that scowled and rejoined their party moments after Deryn came to a stop. The soft whispers of the other knights turned to judgmental silence as Deryn stood there, but she ignored them, just as she had every other time she’d gotten into a less than desirable predicament.<br/><br/>“Don’t worry about her. She’ll regret it when she gets herself killed.” Deryn heard the words coming from Bran as he settled in with their companions. She rolled her eyes and focused on her savior, the aftermath of her curiosity ended in much less reprimands than it likely would have had the shadow before her not intervened.<br/><br/>“But before we breach that topic, perhaps we could continue our previous conversation and you could answer the questions I’ve asked?” Deryn looked over her shoulder toward the wagon. “I’m afraid I do not know your name and my social etiquette is something that Bran and I have been working on as of late. Besides, I’d like to know who it is I should be thanking for rescuing me and bestowing upon me the sage advice of ‘looking instead of touching’. I am absolutely certain it will be useful in my future endeavors, whatever those should be.” Deryn grinned with playfulness as she jested with the man, but part of her got the feeling he wasn’t the ‘jesting’ type.<br/><br/>As she stood there, she knew that she should be slightly fearful of him, but unlike her companions, Deryn hadn’t an ounce of fear. The curiosity and desire to learn more was very, very real, though. It spurred her to push forward and toe the line of what was respectable and what was not. Some had found that quality about her rather endearing, because she was not afraid to ask the questions that popped into her colorful mind. There were others, more common than not, that found her peculiar, unusual, and much too vibrant of a woman. After all, women were to be seen, not heard, and anyone that had ever met Deryn knew that she would rather be seen and heard than just one or the other.<br/><br/>“It was the large man.” Deryn stated after a long minute, thinking back to the statue. “The one who appeared to be standing on a mountain of men. He was your friend, the great warrior you spoke of, I assume?” Deryn frowned to herself, lowering her eyes to watch as she kicked a stone with the toe of her brown boot. “Please forgive me for interrupting, then. I did not mean to disturb the respects you were paying toward him.”<br/><br/>*************************************************<br/><br/>Enjoying the cool night air passing over his pale skin Malkier allowed his eyes to drift close, focussing on the sensations around him, the sounds of the wind in the trees, the rustling of the grass, the snorts of the horses and the warm smell of their sweat, the heartbeats from the rest of Deryn’s company, the encroaching soft footsteps and soft fruity smell of the young woman coming out from the shrine.<br/><br/>He remained still, eyes closed allowing her to approach, his lips curving into an amused smile as she asked her question, “A scholar? No young one, I am no scholar, just someone who has travelled and has been around on this egg for some time.” His eyes opening to look upon her defiant pose, his grin widening bearing the whiteness of his teeth, the points of his elongated canines prominent for the first time, the shadows cast by the flickering lamplight would hide the fact from the rest of the travelling company but this close open and clear to Deryn.<br/><br/>The smile disappeared at the arrival of the old man, Malkier’s gaze turned, eyes narrowing at the comment he made, unsure if the man was more astute that he had seemed, if he was making a comment to Malkier’s nature. He assumed not, there was not enough running and screaming, which is what usually ensued, that or hateful suspicious glares and the gathering of weapons.<br/><br/>Nodding gently to Deryn’s insistent steering of the conversation back to him not having answered her questions, he could not help the smile returning, there was something about this girl, he liked her spirit, her defiance, it was not often he met someone so unafraid of a stranger, especially one of Malkier’s appearance, even among his own nation where he was known, few that were not close showed such backbone.<br/><br/>“Come, let us walk a little. Have no fear we will remain in the glade and within the light, it is just the act of moving I desire.” Collecting his glaive from where it rested, his wings curling about him, settling about his shoulders and hanging down his back akin to a cloak and hiding their true shape and form.<br/><br/>Adopting a slow swinging walk, boots just clearing the ground and brushing through the short dew dropped grass. Enjoying the fresh scent in the evening air “So, to answer you previous questions, I am called Malkier, by those who know me, although there are other titles about this Egg that I am known by.” Casting his gaze upward to clear night sky, taking in the stars with a thoughtful sounds “Hmmm, what else was it it? Ah yes, as for where I come from that depends how literal you would like me to be young one and for numbers, it is just me here at this time.”<br/><br/>Walking calmly in silence as he let her work through her thoughts and ask the questions that he could tell she had, as Deryn asked about Dorn, he nodded making a grunt in acknowledgement “Indeed he was. Dorn was his name, he was a member of…. my House for a time, before we both left to explore and find our own adventure. We separated over the years, I had things I needed to investigate and he remained with the group we had joined, a mercenary company.”  Malkier smiled at the memories of the group that he knew, “We travelled the lands serving whichever nation paid the most or whose goals aligned closest with ours. In time Dorn became elevated to the position of Avatar of Justice, ironic really, a creature as chaotic as him standing for justice.”<br/><br/>He stopped at the far end of the clearing, turning to face the shrine behind them, pointing with the tip of his glaive he indicated the open ground before them “It was here that he fell, they had come to battle a large corrupt pack of were-wolves that were terrorising the local region, hounding them to this spot they brought them to battle. Although out numbered the pack were huge savage beasts and brought down many warriors, but none but their Alpha could stand before Dorn, records say fourteen he slew before confronting the Alpha and on the site of that shrine is where they both fell, his armour and body torn and rent asunder while his great-axe separated the creature’s head from it’s shoulders.”<br/><br/>His shoulders sagged a little with a sigh as he recalled the tale of his close friend, “I visit every couple years to pay my respects to him, it’s a long trek from my current home but one that is worth taking.” Turning his head he glanced sidelong to Deryn “So what is it that brings you and your company to this place?” slowly striding off again down the other side of the glade back towards the shrine and the collection of wagons and men.<br/><br/>*************************************************<br/><br/>Young one.<br/><br/>The title bothered Deryn as the pale man spoke it, but she held her tongue because she was too damn curious to risk him not telling her what she wanted to know. She could tell that he wasn’t lying when he said that he had travelled, but her eyes narrowed as she contemplated his age. Surely, he couldn’t be much older than she…could he? Deryn considered his appearance, noting that while he did, in fact, look older, he most definitely couldn’t be more than a few years her senior. His black wings and the unusual way he carried himself confused her, though. Perhaps she was entirely off base.<br/><br/>His grin made the edges of her lips itch, the infectious action forcing a scowl to settle on her face instead of the smile she’d wanted to return him. At the sight of his sharpened teeth, Deryn’s eyes widened, although she didn’t say much, only stared a bit with intrigue. Was it a trick? Was he trying to intimidate her? The joke was on him, if that were the case – not even a bear could intimidate Deryn, let along a pair of abnormally sharpened canines. “What are you?” The words left her lips before she had time to take them back or hold them in. Mentally scolding herself for speaking her mind, Deryn bit her rosy bottom lip and held onto it to see how he would respond.<br/><br/>At Bran’s arrival, Deryn’s eyes only momentarily diverted themselves from the stranger, but she didn’t miss the narrowing gaze on his face. The action confused Deryn – why would the stranger concern himself over what the old man said about her anyway? It was the only logical reason someone as naïve as she could interpret the actions, and her face turned a little warm with embarrassment. She didn’t smile when the winged man returned back to their conversation, the brief moment of assessing her traveling companions having broken the playful curiosity inside of her.<br/><br/>“Why would you want to walk if you have wings?” It was another question that ripped through her mouth at an alarming rate, and Deryn knew that if her grandfather had been anywhere near her during this conversation, he would have slapped her right upside the head as hard as he could to knock some sense into her. Deryn followed behind, looking at the feathers that adorned the man’s back. They were pretty – very much so – and while Deryn didn’t consider herself a stereotypical woman who enjoyed sparkling things, she found herself enjoying the way the feathers swayed with every step he took. Eventually, she caught up to him, walking shoulder to shoulder, but careful to keep enough space between them that she could escape (or so she thought) if something were to inspire that flight or fight response. Behind them, Bran could be heard telling the story of what happened inside the shrine, and Deryn caught herself watching them all gossip in a circle.<br/><br/>His voice caught her off guard, but Deryn quickly captured his name. Malkier, what an unusual one that was. Regardless, it was something to call him by instead of “stranger” and for that Deryn was thankful. A name made the encounter real. Without it, she wouldn’t have been able to tell her brothers the story properly. “What kind of titles?” Deryn inquired as Malkier looked upward toward the sky. Then he started on again about calling her “young one” and Deryn scowled. “I would appreciate it if you would use my given name instead of this odd appellation that you, for some reason, find appropriate.”<br/><br/>Deryn finally let it go, settling in comfortably next to him in silence. She did have a lot of questions – he’d assumed right. That was the only way she could experience life; asking questions got you somewhere, while holding them inside got you nowhere. Deryn listened intently as Malkier talked about Dorn, his friend who’d been resurrected into the giant statue inside of the building they walked around. She was easily impressed by the tale, slightly saddened by the fact that she hadn’t been around to meet this fellow herself. Her hazel eyes followed the tip of his glaive, looking down into the open ground that he pointed toward. As Malkier spoke of the battle and how his friend had eventually fallen, she could see it all in her mind as easily as if she had lived it herself. “He sounds like quite an honorable man, especially to have friends that travel such a long way to talk with him.” She’d assumed that’s what he had been doing when she had stumbled upon him. While Deryn didn’t believe that the Gods actually listened to the people on the Egg, she did believe that the spirits of those long passed did. It was that hope that had helped her with her own demons a long time ago, and she hoped that wherever this Dorn person was that he appreciated Malkier’s gesture.<br/><br/>Deryn didn’t catch his glance, too absorbed in the giant fault in the earth to notice. But she did hear his question, which prompted her to sigh heavily and rub at her eyes at the lack of excitement in her reply. Scrambling as he turned to walk down the other side of the glade, she caught herself before she tripped, and spewed out a line of answer to hopefully appease him. “We’re paying our respects, just as you are. This place is but a stop on our way to visit with the Lord Regent and Prince Willhelm.” Deryn wanted to roll her eyes, once again reminded that they were nothing more than messengers for her King, but she stopped herself short. No sense in bringing that up in conversation with a stranger, especially if he had something against Willhelm and those that ruled over Teutonia. “While our role in the war with the werewolves was only a small one, there were still those from Albion who fell with Dorn, and thus, it’s up to those of us who travel here to ensure that they are resting easy and are never forgotten.”<br/><br/>She smiled, more to herself than anyone else, as she walked. “It’s my first time out of Albion. I’m a little disappointed that we’ve yet to see a goblin.”<br/><br/>*************************************************<br/><br/>Deryn’s absent minded questions as he spoke upon their walk were noted and stored for answering later, it was a small thing the amusement he got from appearing not to hear or from  just marching on with what he was telling her and even more so that prickly scent that rose from beneath her usual crisp, clean smell.<br/><br/>At the culmination of his story stopping as he did to survey the old battlefield he listened to Deryn as she answered his question about what brought her and the others to the shrine. He didn’t know anyone else in the conflict other than Dorn, he was his friend it made sense to come and pay his respects, but Deryn surely couldn’t be old enough to know anyone interred her. Malkier was not a sentimental creature, not really he appreciated honour and respect for those who stood alongside him during times of conflict or missions for the Ilharress or Valsharess, these were all things to be remembered and valued.<br/><br/>It seemed odd to him for someone to come and visit the place of people they did not know. Perhaps it had something to do with the short lives they lived that the act of paying respects needed to be passed down, humans were strange, even the few he knew were strange Skuz’muk for example, useful certainly but definitely strange.<br/><br/>They stood off to the other side of the glad a little ways from the wagon of Deryn’s company, he watched as the men shifted the contents, removing items to make camp. The older man, Bran, seemed to be shouting orders and more giving people a hard time than actually helping, yet more strange human behaviour, Underdark life was so much simpler, at least in terms of getting things done, although the pain of death was quite the motivator.<br/><br/>Malkier heard Deryn’s comment about goblins and chuckled “You have picked quite the place then. Teutonia has one of the largest greenskin populations on Erdreja, stay here long enough and you are bound to see some. Many of the members of this nation are nomadic though, so tend to keep to themselves, until the Heartland Moots or Gathering of Nations, then they seem to gather as one large horde. Quite the intimidating sight their faction arrayed for war.”<br/><br/>He stood and watched for a few more moments before turning to Deryn, as he spoke the corners of his mouth turning upward amused and curious, “You asked before ‘what am I?’ How familiar are you with the make up of this egg we call Erdreja?” waiting for her to answer before he continued “Well the egg is surrounded by a space known as ‘The Void’. This is made of all 16 elements that make up all things on Erdreja. I am an Umbral, a creature made of the substance of the void and  the reason I walk ‘Young One’” he made a point of using the term for his own amusement “is because without the winds of the void, they do not work on this Plane of existence. In the presence of an open Void Gate, a place of great magical power I am able to gain some measure of flight as you would say, but nothing quite like…” his voice trailed off a far away look to his eyes and confused or perhaps even sorrowful look to his face.<br/><br/>Lost in remembrance for several moments, Malkier stood there quietly, the sounds of Deryn’s party conversing as they unloaded wagons to pitch camp and the chirping of the evening wildlife the only sounds that washed over him. With a shake of his head Malkier returned to the ‘now’ “Sorry, lost in thought there for a moment, for what I know, there is a lot of time to get lost in for my race too.” The humoured smile looked out of place on his lips, like he was not used to making jokes, his concept of humour usually lost on most mortals. The looks of conflict replaced by the passive amused smile from before “As for the “appellation” of “Young One”… you are young to me, even compared to the male that was within the Shrine with you, you are young, is this not correct? You do not look like you are made from an old piece of saddle leather as he does.” With that he strode off towards the Shrine and the encampment that Bran and the others had put together. The old man looked up as Malkier approached, he could hear Bran’s mutterings about “What was he doing?” and “Who did she think is wandering off like that?”<br/><br/>As the caravan party settled themselves, the scents of cooking food beginning to waft around the clearing, voices of men beginning to relax a little after a long day on the road, they were growing a little more “comfortable” around Malkier, not exactly welcoming but they accepted that he was there. From the overheard whispered conversations, he had caught snippets of generally he was okay there as long he didn’t think to presume he was sharing in their rations, the idea made him chuckle softly as he settled himself by the fire, the flickering flames casting his unique elongated shadow across the open glade behind him.<br/><br/>Malkier spoke further with Deryn as she ate with the others, “So where do you head from here? You said you are visiting the Lord Regent and Prince Willhem, is this a message you carry? A political visit? Is there war brewing?” Through his travels it helped for him to gather what information about the surface he could, little news came naturally to the his Underdark home. “It is good to understand the ways of the surface, for my home is far from here and news does not come easily to our ears.”<br/><br/>They sat and spoke a while longer about the goings on in the lands they had travelled through, Deryn full of questions as was seemingly her way. Malkier could understand, he had been that way once may years ago when he had been found by the Ilharess in the darkness surrounded by death, seemed so long ago now.<br/><br/>He was always at home in the darkness and night especially so. The sounds of this forest seemed so much less threatening though compared to the wildlife of the Underdark where travelling alone was a dangerous pursuit and one that usually ended abruptly and violently.<br/><br/>It was as Deryn launched into a fresh round of inquisitive questions that something caught his attention, the sounds of the forest had changed, it was a suitable change, one that seemed to have been unnoticed by most of the party around the fire, their conversations distracting them from attuning with their surroundings. Malkier looked about the clearing, Bran had insisted on posting sentries, this had been met with many grumbles and protests that it was safe, Malkier realised that the old man was right to insist upon it now. The sentries seemed nervous, there was a scent upon the air from them, they had noticed something was up, but perhaps not what.<br/><br/>Malkier slowly raised a hand to silence Deryn “Shhhh. Do you hear that? The silence among the trees?” raising his voice a little to hail Bran “Your men…”he indicated to those stood watch in the clearing “…they have noticed something.”<br/><br/>He raised himself smoothly from where he sat, looking down to Deryn “Arm yourself Young One.” His voice cold and hard, taking slow strides away from the fire towards the darkness of the trees, he could feel a predatory presence there, they were being watched but by what and how many he did not know. The other sentries we also slowly edging towards the wedge of the treeline around the glade, the party by the fire were rousing themselves and gathering weapons.<br/><br/>The very human cry of pain echoed clearly across the glade, whirling around at the sounds to see one of the sentries brought down by a humanoid shape the screams of his death making it evident that the creature was here for one thing only. The snap of the underbrush made him turn back to face the trees just in time as the best leapt out at him, all rage, teeth and claws.<br/><br/>The sounds of combat erupted all around the glade as the beastkin came out in force, how many was unclear and not important to Malkier at this moment, the beast in mid-flight toward him was his prime concern. An upward arching swing with the but of his glaive caught the creature beneath the chin, snapping it’s head back and dazing it as the Angel side stepped letting the beast land in a heap upon the grassy floor, before it could rise a downward thrust, bone blade parting the creature’s flesh and vertebrae easily leaving it twitching upon the ground. Freeing his weapon Malkier sought out his next opponent and surveyed the battle around him.<br/><br/>Best estimate had them outnumbered at least two to one, this was going to be bloody, they could hope that the pack’s nerve broke before they lost too many men…or women. The thought of Deryn in danger ignited a fury within him, a deep rooted indoctrination to protect the females.<br/><br/>The Drow matriarchal ideology, taught to him when he had been ‘young’ and newly found had become twisted in his mind, he saw no distinction between Drow or allies, all females were to be protected, with his life if necessary.<br/><br/>Finding the young woman amongst the swirling melee he was at a dead run before he realised, teeth bared and a wordless roar echoing from him as he charged into the fray, an Angel of Death.<br/><br/>*************************************************<br/><br/>The thought of seeing a goblin was enough to keep her motivated to continue on with Bran and the rest of the group, but it was not enough to keep her patience at bay. More than once she’d thought about wandering off on her own, but alas, she’d stayed in her spot with Bran, ignoring most of the things he’d said, and just praying that something, someone would come along to entertain her along the way. When Malkier explained that Teutonia had one of the largest “greenskin” populations on the Egg, a grin crossed her features and her imagination ran wild. What would it be like to meet one? To fight one? To journey alongside one? “I bet it’s quite a sight. Intimidating, perhaps, but a sight nonetheless.” It was one that she hoped she got the opportunity to experience first-hand.<br/><br/>Their conversation jumped to that of her knowledge of the world, and while Deryn was educated only by the texts she’d had access to, her reading and writings skills were subpar and there were still many lands that she did not know existed. ”I know very little of Erdreja.” She muttered, answering his question as honestly as she could. “I am familiar with Albion, the nations that surround us, and where various others are located. However, specifics were never apart of the syllabus and I find myself learning something new every day.” It was a moment of pride for her – learning was something that had always pushed Deryn to leave Albion.<br/><br/>She listened closely as he explained, but part of her continued to remain confused on the specifics of who and what he was.  What Deryn did understand, though, was that his wings were as useless as a common turkey’s. It interested her – “The Void” – because it sounded dark and mysterious and like something that would be unlike anything she’d ever seen before. While a million questions ran through her head, Deryn remained silent, respecting the faraway look on Malkier’s face. He must have been thinking of his home.<br/><br/>His joke was absolutely lost on Deryn, and she frowned with a touch of confusion. With a quick shrug and an easy smile, Deryn listened and then laughed as he compared Bran to a piece of old saddle leather. “I am not that young. By our standards, I am closer to middle aged than not, although I should warn you that asking a lady about how many years she has is highly frowned upon within most social circles within Albion.” Deryn sassed with a playful tone, only half serious about him insulting her if he wanted specifics. “As far as Bran is concerned….” She looked over her shoulder at the old man, watching him direct the others on what they should and should not be doing to settle for the night. “He might appear to be as old as saddle leather, but the man has seen much in his life. While I doubt I will look as weathered as he when I am his age, I do hope that my skin tells as many stories as his does.”<br/><br/>Gradually, the pair settled with her companions, and as Deryn ate her supper, Malkier plagued her with questions – not that she minded. “A political visit, I’m afraid. Nothing too exciting, aside from delivering well wishes from the King for the Prince’s birthday.” Deryn picked at the food in her dish, placing it in front of her when she’d decided she had enough to eat. “So East it is until we get to wherever it is we’re supposed to be going. I honestly haven’t paid enough attention to the names of the cities here, if there are even cities to know the names of.”  Instead, she’d listened to Bran’s ramblings about stories and tall tales, and while normally Deryn was interested in those kinds of conversation, she had grown bored with hearing the same ones time and time again. “As far as war, it has been eerily quiet as of late. Some of us are growing anxious waiting for tensions to rise again. Peace is a pleasant time, but I suppose many have an understanding that the shoe will eventually drop and we must be prepared. But enough of that,” Deryn said, clapping her hands on the tops of her thighs, the light material making a soft ‘thump’ under the force. “Tell me about Teutonia, seeing as no one else will when I’ve asked them to.”<br/><br/>The questions continued, and Deryn was surprised that Malkier entertained them. She was absorbed within their conversation, but didn’t miss how others seemed to eavesdrop on occasion. Even Bran chimed in a time or two, spurring Deryn on with more thoughts and questions that she couldn’t help but ask. Part of her wondered if the old man appreciated her curiosities. Then things changed abruptly, and Deryn forced herself to remain silent as she’d been trained to do. The air around them, once full of her laughter and assault of questions grew noiseless, aside from the slowly quieting sounds of the night around them.<br/><br/>It was as Malkier noticed that the sentries were uneasy that Deryn had an epiphany. The stories from the old warriors had always spoke of this – a weary calm before the storm. She’d not been exposed to battle much, perhaps a sparring match with a member of the Order a time or two, but nothing had felt like this. There was a prickling on the back of her neck that made the goosebumps on her arms harden tightly almost so they hurt. But the true attestation to this awareness of something being not quite so right was the rush of adrenaline and the pounding of her heart inside of her ears.<br/><br/>Deryn didn’t need Malkier’s direction, but she also didn’t need to be told twice. As he stood, she pushed off the wooden stump she reclined upon and dashed for the wagons to secure her weaponry. Whilst she’d been trained in ranged combat, it was the firm grip of the steel in her hands that made her confident. Deryn refused to wear the heavy dress armor that her counterparts did, only putting it on her body when necessary, and luckily for her, Bran had not required her to do so today. Instead, she dressed lightly, which enabled her to move quicker and less inhibited. Deryn had always been a risk taker, but the risk of her lack of shining armor had not failed her yet.<br/><br/>There was no fear as their camp was assaulted, only the need to survive and to assist her company as they were overwhelmed. Creatures that she’d never seen before came at them, beasts that resembled man, and quickly, Deryn realized that she was face to face with a foe she’d never expected – “beastkin”. Teeth and growls and claws and sounds that didn’t seem entirely pleasant echoed around her, and while most of her companions tried to retreat and reassemble themselves for a more complete attack, Deryn observed for a long moment and then attempted to find a weak spot within the enemy to make her move.<br/><br/>As she flayed two beastkin in succession, Deryn couldn’t help but note the way they looked. Pained and rabid, an entirely different description than what she’d always been told. Granted, her lack of real life experience limited what knowledge she did have, but this was something she felt firmly about. Beastkin were not supposed to act this way, at least not unless they had been provoked. As far as Deryn knew, no one in the camp had toed out of line. With her back to the wagon, she kept herself protected as best as she could. There was no way she was going to come out of this without an injury or two, so Deryn prepared herself for the pain once it came. She also looked for Bran, the old knight at a serious disadvantage due to his age.<br/><br/>“Bran!” Deryn shouted, panicked that she hadn’t seen him in the fray, but a deep roar rose from her left followed by a slew of profanities that alerted her of the old man’s presence.<br/><br/>“You still alive, girl?” He asked with a dark laugh as his own sword speared through the beastkin that challenged him. Deryn grinned over her shoulder at him. “Of course, old man!” She replied with her own arrogant tone, but as she finished, the breath was knocked out of her chest as something pinned her against the wagon. The mail that covered her chest prevented the dagger like teeth from sinking entirely into her skin as a foe aimed for her exposed neck. A cry of surprise escaped her, the unexpected attack having forced her to drop her weapon at her side. All she had to fight with were her boots.<br/><br/>There was a sea of black feathers coming toward her, but Deryn didn’t recognize that it was Malkier. Instead, she snarled at the beast holding her down, raised her knee to the point that it was painful, and shoved with all of her might. The cracking that she’d heard was not her own bones, but that of the enemy, and pride swelled inside of her as she dislodged herself from the wagon and reclaimed her sword, just in time to be awed by the man with the pretty black feathers and the name that she’d never heard of before.