Marthus stood near the entrance to the camp, a fire crackled before him, and though it looked as if he had a bored tired look on his face, it was a farce to hide that he was really looking over the Linden camp. He needed to gather information, needed to find a reason to be in their camp. Course he could always say the truth, but his experiences usually had people disbelieving him. From what he could tell there was no bard or story teller in their camp. He was sure it was because they had been through so many battles that they were either too tired, or dead.<br/><br/>As he stood, he caught the sight of a small woman carrying a doe on her back, this was impressive really, and if he had a spot of chivalry in him he would have gone up to her and offered his help, but instead he stood there, just watching. That is till she was harassed by two of the low ranking guards closer to the entrance. He saw her movement to pull her blade, and instantly hold it to the boy's groin. This had Marthus chuckling to himself.<br/><br/>He didn't care enough about the guards to go over to them to offer his support, but he was intrigued. Seeing her fast reaction had him wanting to see the rest of the warriors from Linden, if they were as swift and cutthroat as she was, then he understood how they had lasted so long. Rubbing his hands together over the fire, he stepped away, still chuckling a little to himself. "<span style="color: #008040">Saw that comin' a mile away</span>," he said loud enough for the two guards to hear him. "<span style="color: #008040">You boy's really know how to judge the ferocity of your women.</span>" This last part he said sarcastically.<br/><br/>Both guards shouted at him, and the one who didn't get the dagger to his genitals ran up to Marthus, trying to take a swing at him which Marthus easily dodged. He was used to getting hit across the head by his master for something done incorrectly, He heard the sound of stomping feet in the mud, and the fientest hint of metal and cloth moving through the air that he easily ducked. "<span style="color: #008040">Tsk, Tsk. If you're this slow fighting me, good luck fighting an enraged demon.</span>" Marthus laughed out. The man took another swing at him, this one he just grabbed the guard's hand, Marthus' thumb and index finger grasping the pressure point between his own thumb and index finger and pressed down. The man let out a muffled groan and went weak at the knees. "<span style="color: #008040">If you are going to fight someone, make sure you know everything you can get on them, it might save you in the end,</span>" he growled into the man's ear before pushing to the ground and quickly walking away before the others could attack him again.<br/><br/>On silent feet, Marthus made his way into the Liden encampment. He didn't try to hide that he was there, and even kept his hands at his side so they could see he wasn't being hostile towards anyone in the camp. For now he just looked around, seeing the disarray the soldiers equipment is in, and even the kind of wounds sustained by the soldiers. At times he would just stop outside of a larger tent, ones used more for the healers or even the preparation of food, and just listened. He could learn a lot about the tutars this way, and what he gathered didn't settle well with him. He had agreed to do this, and he wasn't backing down now, no matter how seeing all of this made him get filled with a sense of fear and dread.<br/><br/>Marthus didn't try to find a high ranking soldier, just one who looked like he had been through several battle, but not so battle hardened that he would only get glared and sneared at for the questions he was going to ask. Finding such a soldier, a female soldier that seemed to be holding on to the smallest thread of hope, he asked her if she had time, and was willing to discuss the tutar with him. WHen asked why he wanted to talk about such a dark topic he answered truthfully. "<span style="color: #008040">Because I have not fought them, and I try to get to know everything I can about who I am to kill. I simply ask so I may better prepare myself for the coming battles.</span>"<br/><br/><br/><div><hr style="height:2px; width:100%; border:0; color: Black;background:Black;"/></div><br/><br/>#BF00FF A woman of exotic beauty stood in the center of a gazebo, darkly tanned arms crossed under her breasts, and eyes closed. It would seem that she was just standing there, breathing in and out while the wind played with her thinly braided black hair, there were too many braids to count, and each one ended with a set of four beads; arranged gold, blue, red and gold; each braid made a gentle bell sound when they pounced off of the other. She was dressed in a fine gown made of thin cottons; material prevalent in desert areas, though her clothing was so thin and light that one could almost see her body past the fabric; the fabric itself seemed to have at one time been white, but the color faded into a crimson red, the hem of her dress having the thickest crimson color with no white being shown. Her arms, chest, and shins were adorned with a golden armor that shimmered in the soft light.<br/><br/>Here in the realm of the gods, she rested, though she always kept a vigilant eye on the goings on of the mortal world. From this spot standing there breathing in and out as she was helped her look over the realm of men and see what was going on. War was raging on and on all throughout the mortal world, war always was. Despite loving it and being really good in a combat setting, she couldn't just let herself be pulled into any and every battle. No she had to find the reason's behind why the wars were taking place. Ever since the war broke out with the tutars, she had become even more vigilant, even instructing her two demigods to battle the tutars, and helping when she could. She had just returned from such a fight, her help had made it so the Linden lord who lead a small contingency into battle had helped to stem the tide, but she knew in her heart that it would not be enough.<br/><br/>She watched on for a little longer before gasping in breath and opening her dark brown eyes to look about. Sesk'ramat, Elder goddess of Rage, stepped from her gazebo and stormed off. She didn't know where she was going, she was walking off just to expend some of her building rage. Without realizing it, her golden sandaled feet took her straight to her cellar where she kept all her pomegranate  alcoholic beverages. Grabbing a few bottles, popped the corks, and stormed back outside, lifting a bottle up to her lips and taking a long swig from it, the other held in her left hand at her side.<br/><br/>Walking around for a little bit, drinking straight from the bottle till it was empty, she could feel her rage starting to lessen, as her level of drunkenness rose. Soon both bottles were empty and she was just humming and drunkenly walking around the upper realm, not even realizing that she was heading very close to the Circle Gods meeting hall, and the circle god that she holds all her lyalty to was walking out of the doors of the meeting hall and started to walk right towards her.<br/><br/>"Ahhhh, Sesk'ramat," she said a smile on her lips. Her smile faded when she saw the state of her Elder God. "What is wrong, Sesk'ramat? You have been at war with your own rage lately," she stated, though it would almost sound like a question.<br/><br/>Sesk'ramat gave her a drunk smile and teetered a little bit, losing her footing and being caught by Valiya. "<span style="color: #BF00FF">M'lady. These Tutars are killing children, sick and weak,</span>" she slurred, tears running down from her brown eyes, "<span style="color: #BF00FF">any dents are small in comparison to their numbers. Why must Malinar fight your helping the mortals?</span>"<br/><br/>Valiya only smiled, knowing that Sesk'ramat had raged because she felt she was doing so little, even though she was doing so very much to help the mortals in battle. With a soft cooing noise she lifted Sesk'ramat up and helped her walk down the pathway to a comfortable bench. "Let us go and get you a little sobered up."