GoldenDrakon turned the now-deaceced skirl over with his foot, regarding the corpse with a half quizical look. They were odd creatures, these skirls and his analytical mind was filing and sorting bits if information he had gleaned from the fight even as he knelt and searched the body, curiosoty peaked to see if these skirls would also have the odd rose quartz and polished talons as well.

His search was quick, moving from one corpse to the other in his exploration. The shifter boy seemed paralyzed, shocked with the sudden explosive violence and death, partly caused by his own actions. He let him be, time enough would come for reflection about what he could have done, should have done, might have happened, soon enough.

His search completed, he moved into the camp, investigating the surroundings. The spartan bits and pieces told him things, whispered hints of secrets about the skirls to him and offered spoils of victory as well. The jewels and colored beads he took, dropping them into the pouches on his makeshift bandolier as he went from tent to tent. There was others tings which interested him, but he told himself that to be burdoned with trinkets would be foolish and left them behind. The furs stank, indicating their purpose was for bedding and warmth and made them worthless, but he did claim one of the long knives, the cleanest of the cloth, some rope and a large ball of twine as well as all of the water skins.

Setting his chosen bits down near the fire, GD shook out his cloth, laying it flat, then removed the spit from over the fire, laying the meat down upon the cloth. Whith strong slashes from the knife, he worked to hack the carcass into more managable chunks, bundling the meat into the cloth and throwing the spit into one of the tents when finished.

Lastly, the dragon seperated the still burning bits of six stumps of wood from the cooking fire.

"It is time to go boy." he called to Wulff, who was still looking sullen. "We have what we came for." he finished, pausing to fling a burning ember into each tent before moving out.
He was not worried about causing a massive fire, the surrounding wilderness was far to wet and green for that, but it would likely spell the destruction of the camp.

"Besides, we have to make sure that the others haven't gotten themselves killed."

He followed after the dragon man, partly paralyzed, partly numb, frightened, scared because he'd killed something, someone, who had moments before been living, alive, beneath his hands. "Oh god." He turned his head, burying his head in the bushes and vomiting up the contents of his stomach onto the ground. He knelt there, shaking for a bit, his teeth chattering, he convulsed, gagging, even when there was nothing left to hack up.

He eventually gathered himself, only to find the dragon man had already gone ahead. He leapt to his feet, his feet moving after him, chasing him. There was stuff all around, "What all this stuff?" he asked, picking up one of the idols, running his fingers over the wings, pretty. He watched the dragon with the gems and beads, dragons were known for hoarding, at least on Earth. He didn't want them anyways, taking a dead man's things was bad luck. But the idol. He kept that, and watched the dragon bring out a knife from one of the tents. He reached for the whip at his hip, should he get one too? No. Knives weren't his cup of tea.

He raised his head when the dragon man spoke to him, and stood up, stuffing away the idol, things were still a bit too much, and he still felt queasy, but he swallowed the thickness in his throat. He sighed, shaking slightly as he folded his arms tightly across his chest, he wanted to go back to Phoenix. He wanted to go back home. He swallowed, the first bout of homesickness really came to him, here, on the road, out in the middle of nowhere, with a dragon man, god. He dashed his eyes, he would not cry, not here, not now, and cleared his throat. He was fine. Perfectly fine.

GD retraced his steps back through the thick underbrush, trying to make as accurate a guess as possible, but the heavy growth and damp air made even his keen senses lose their way more than once.

He knew they were still making their way Westward but was unsure if they were following the same trail their companions had followed. The young shifter, Wulff followed behind, occasionally still sniffing and smelling like fear, confusion and remorse but following never the less.

"There is nothing that can be done about it." he finally said over his shoulder. "You did what had to be done and that is all. Had you not, you or I might be dead in their place."

He turned, handing three of the waterskins back towards Wulff. "Take a drink and please carry these. We still have a long way to go."

Wulff was practically swimming in stress, he couldn't get the feel of life leaving beneath his hands off. It made him shaky and unaware of his surroundings until the dragon man spoke to him. He raised his head, his eyes wide a bit, as he looked morosely at the dragon.

"I know." He said, sighing, "But it doesn't make it easier, y'know?" He didn't complain as he was handed the water skins, slinging them over his shoulder, glad for something to do as he took a drink. He looked through the undergrowth, it was so thick! How would they meet up with the rest? He hurried to catch up with the dragon man, the other's steps were much longer than his and made him take two steps for every one of his.

As it were, e kept his eyes mostly on the ground, to watch where he was going and watching the ground for anything that may turn his ankle or something like that. But the stones that littered his path made him tilt his head, and look for the next. Pretty. He knelt down, calling for the other to wait a second as he reached for one of the stones.

When the thing squeaked, he yelped and leapt back, landing flat on his ass, "It's alive!" He yelled, pointing at the stones, "It squeaked at me!"

GoldenDrakon had been tying his newly aquired quartz trophies into a ring with his borrowed twine. Elevin of the odd rose quartz triangles were now dangling from a loop on his bandolier. Clearly, these stones were important to the Skirls somehow in more than just a passing novelty or good luck charm. Every skirl had worn one around their neck and surrendered it only in death.

The things had begun exibiting more strange reactions when Wulff suddenly exclaimed from behind him. Turning, GD found Wulff on his backside, pointing at the stones that littered the narrow and winding path.

"Stones? What of them?" he asked, turning one over with his foot. They seemed common stones, aside from their unusual coloring.

He growled a bit, "It made a noise at me!" He protested, moving to the stones again and reaching, but it didn't make any noises anymore and they didn't skitter away. He frowned, huffing and reaching for them, but while the other watched him, he picked it up, funny tingling running up his arm and over his fingers as he played with it.

However the second, the very second that the dragon looked away and started playing with the rocks himself, he yelped loudly at the shock that ran up his arm and everything went dark as he collapsed in a heap on the ground.

As the creature ran at him Shadow had barely enough time to jump out of the way. He heard Reht scream something out about a secretion from its tusks and let out a silent curse. This place just seemed to get worse and worse and they were no closer to finding Wraith. He gripped his sword in his right hand and looked at the thing just to hear a sword to his right.

He turned towards the sound just to see another boar running towards him. Shadow knew there was no way he was going to get out of the way and gripped his chain tightly in one hand. He began to swing it in a slow arc and knew he had to wait for the right moment. He watched the boar coming closer and closer then at the last moment swung out with the chain, wrapping it around its tusks.

The boar let out a loud sound as the chain wrapped around its tusks and moved to run the other way but Shadow pulled back on the chain. He knew he was leaving himself open for attack by doing this so grabbed the chain as hard as he could with both hands, dropping his sword to the ground as he did and swung it.

He watched as the boar was pulled off its feet and swung around on his heels, swinging the thing just off the ground. As soon as he let it go he heard another squeal of and looked up to see it had crashed into the other boar.

Without a second thought he turned to Reht, "Don't just stand there. Run!"

GoldenDrakon looked up quickly, only to see the young man crumple into a heap; blue stone still held in his hand. Closing the distance in a few short steps, the dragon kicked out, slapping the stone out of Wulff's hand and sending it flying into the underbrush.

He wheeled around and with a snarl, stamped down on another nearby stone, grinding the thing into the dirt of the trail. At that moment, there were multiple squeaks and the blue 'stones' suddenly scuttled away from the path, vanishing into the thick forest.

The dragon blinked tilting his head for a moment and snorted in indignation just before turning back to Wulff. Wetting his hand with one of the waterskins, he flicked dropplets into the young shifter's face.

"Wake now boy. I do not relish the thought of having to carry you through the woods."

Enter: Taljor

Taljor sat, sliding the stone down the edge of his great battle axe and listened the 'wick wick' of the honing stone as he set it against the blade. Wraith came striding by and he only took passing notice of her, Myst was trailing her as so often she would.

Half an hour later they passed through once again, this time trailing several others with them. As well as something he presumed was a newcomer, a man with violet wings. Shadow, Orgrim, the shapeshifter and the Dragon man. That particular man interested him, due to the histories of his people. So he stopped his sharpening and placed his stone back in its pouch.

Half a day later, he was there to witness the attack of the Skirl within the cave and the opening of the Portal. He only thought about is for a second before slipping through the portal himself. He had nothing but the clothes on his back and the axe in his hands.

As he passed through the portal, something happened and his ears began to ring. His bones started to ache, and then his muscles began to scream as they seemed to stretch endlessly on and on and on. He roared his pain, opening his maw wide.

Then his was over and he was tossed to the ground. He looked around, slightly dazed and sniffed as he smelled dead flesh. Looking around, he noticed several Skirls dead as well as a mound of viscera off to one side. The scent from the others had almost gone cold and he noticed that there were two trails. One led off west and the other led off towards where he estimated the Skirls had come from.

choosing on instinct, he went off to follow the western path. The cut way made it easier for him to follow and he had yet to get the scent of the Golden Drakon. It wasn't until he heard the squealing of a wild animal did he really pause to look ahead of him.

A clearing opened up as he ran forwards, his battle axe held before him aggressively, and revealed Shadow, Orgrim, an unconscious Myst, Akaron and the violet winged man being attacked by three boar like creatures. He ran in just hear Reht sream his warning about the Bullaboar's secretions. He was not impressed.

Roaring his battle cry, he ran forwards and....

.... quickly found his first target. The bullbear creature was not prepared for such a charging animal that it did not even have a chance to see what was coming.

The charge hit its mark and Taljor stopped just as the other beast was sent flying. Spinning on his hooves, he caught the second at the base of the back of his neck with the hilt of the mighty axe, dropping that beast into dream land.

The third, took its eyes off of the others... "mistake number one in combat." The minotaurs eyes seemed transfixed upon this bullabear, but Taljor was trained by the best weapons master he knew ever existed and knew better than to lose focus. He kept a very watchful 'eye' on the charging victim and put a firm foot on the dreaming one at his feet, holding the large axe in one hand, very comfortably and the other hand empty and open, waiting to react.

His eyes told what he expected to be the leader of the three, that he had only one option... run. But the others may have other ideas.

Of the three Bullaboars, Shadow takes out one. Taljor takes the other out and the third is left with little option but to run. Bullaboars are intelligent enough to know when the odds are against them, especially in numbers. With its fellows taken out of action, the third changes direction swiftly and soon disappears into the underbrush surrounding them. It makes enough noise that it is soon understood by the group that it is running away and not trying to rout them.

Reht picked himself up and dusted off his hands, bending over to take Myst up in his arms once again. He eyes the newcomer, a massive beast with horns and an axe that he so obviously knew how to use. But he had seen him before, in Vale City and knew that he did not necessarily have anything to fear from him.

"We must go on. Thank you for your help." Then he turned around and kept going the way they had been, the bullaboars out of his mind. Rescuing his love was the only concern he had and the boars had taken up much precious time.

GD's body tensed, preparing for a coming fight. A part of him reveled in the thought of battle, a new challenger to come forward and be ground to nothingness. The urge to tear and bite and flame, lost in the zeal of bloodlust.

Still another part of him reasoned that this was unimportant, that there was no gold or glory to be won in fighting some unknown beastie without even the eyes of jellous Valians to see and report to one another in hushed and awed tones.

A low growl bubbled out from between his teeth, but he slowly began to back away from the crashing noise.
'I have no dog in this fight.' he thought to himself. "This is not why I have come here.'

With a final snort, the dragon turned away and pursued through the jungle after Wulff.

Stomping on the dead bullaboars jaw, Taljor breaks a large tusk off and slips it in a small pouch. 'Medicine man or wizzard could use it for some good.' He sped off after Reht and caught him quickly.

"Allow me to carry her for you, we will be able to move faster."

Reht turned at the sound of the new voice and looked to Shadow for some advice. This newcomer had joined the fight, but he didn't know who he was, or what his agenda was either.

At Shadow's nod (the two obviously knew of each other) Reht nodded himself and gently laid Myst down for the new comer to take. "What's your name, friend?" he asked as he did so. And he would supply his own name when asked, of course.

Moving on in what he hoped was the right direction, Reht kept up a light conversation, also informing Taljor of their quest, though not too loudly and they would occassionally stop if he heard something out of the ordinary. There were few animal sounds and the sky was beginning to darken when Reht got them to stop.

"I don't know how much further it is to the coast. But we should talk about the Skirls. They are an ancient enemy of the Aegirans and they..." he shook his head, "Its best if you ask questions of me and I can answer them as best I can. But we must hurry - we don't know how long it will be until the prisoners are.... eaten."

"My name is Taljor." Answering quickly and just as calmly. "And your's?" Glancing at both.

"Please tell me everything you know about these Skirls. We may not have alot of time, but if you could touch on how they fight, defend and any known weakness throughout thier history would be helpful."

Rehts last comment concerning eating prisoners brought back nasty images from his clans oun history. Not many people or creatures know that minotaurs eat meat.

Dizzy, disoriented, confused, he didn't know which end was up, the sounds were mystifying, because they weren't sounds, he screamed, and didn't scream, through a haze of blue and purple, he could see, but not see, he had memories of who he was, *what* he was, had teeth, and claws, and feet and hands. He didn't understand! And there were feet, he scuttled away, the ground so close, the plants so far, he remembered being taller. The plants being below, not above.

~*~

He was so high! Nowhere to hide, nowhere to duck, to scuttle away, and his body was so confused! He doubled over and retched, though, from doing it earlier, he had nothing, what was he? What was this fleshy softness, no pinchers... then they were there, he didn't understand, all the movements of body beneath and around him.

He convulsed, flopping to his side and clutching his head, screaming, over and over, in voices he didn't comprehend, nails raked over soft flesh, dragging bloody furrows in his arms, and his chest, and his legs, where was he? Too big! Too bright! And he screamed until his throat was raw, shaking and trembling on his size, his body still trying to take a form it didn't know, over and over, and he lat there and air hissed through his throat with his silent screams.