RP:When Preks Attack

House of Ara Josiah wakes up slowly, every fiber of his body fighting the sensation. His mind wants to keep sleeping, but his body is having none of it. As his eyes flutter open, he wonders briefly where he is. Waking up indoors was quite disorienting. There was little sound, no birds to be heard. There was sunlight, but it was muted by the curtains hanging behind him. He sits up slowly and wipes the sleep from his eyes, realizing how vibrant and strong his body felt even at the moment of waking. He had never slept so well in his life. He stood up and stretched widely, careful not to knock anything over with his wings. He was topless, but he was wearing a pair of pants he had never seen before. It was a rugged pair, some material unfamiliar to him, and in much better shape than what he had come in with. Memories of the evening began coming back to him, and he could not help but smile, and shake is head in disbelief. It felt like a dream...but here he was. His gear was nowhere to be seen, but at the foot of the bed there lay a pile of clean, simple clothes. A clean white shirt and new socks...a sight for sore eyes. He donned these quickly, eager to speak with his hostess again. He was also ravenous. He quickly made the bed, knowing better than to leave it disheveled. Walking to the door, he saw a cloak hanging on a hook there. It looked huge, as if it would fit over his fully armed body. It was pure white, with dark blue accents on the lapels and lining the hood. It was the most beautiful piece of clothing he had ever seen. He tried to resist the urge to put it on, hoping he was not crossing any boundaries, but failed. It was too incredible to ignore. He slung it on over the shirt, carefully maneuvering his wings so that it would fit correctly. He pushed the door open and stepped out into the main room, feeling strong, confident, and incredibly grateful.

Sabrina had a thing for good taste when shopping for others. When she looked up from the place where she sat with her book she smiled at the fact it all fit him accordingly. It did not appear as though she slept, though it was not unusual for her to go days without doing so. She closes the book, setting it on the table beside her and standing to take him all in. “It suits you.” She was not so formerly dressed, tight leathers bound her chest, an undergarment no doubt for the usual chainmail halter that would normally grace her form. She wore form fitting leather pants, matching f course, and already donned a pair of Gravity enchanted military-style boots. Her hair was already up in braids, like an intricate carving meant to keep the lengthy strands from her face. She gestures to the kitchen, food. And not just some birdy-seeded Dryad crap either. Real food, proteins of many flavors and some so fresh the carcasses still lay half dressed in the sink. “You have been out some time, I took the liberty. I hope you don't mind. Her eyes fall to his pants, indicating she had somehow managed to coerce him into putting them on in the middle of the night. All his armor was neatly stored by the door, cleaned and repaired expertly. She was a busy girl. Likewise, her own armor dressed the mannequin next to his more bulk items. Weapons at the ready... she was headed out. Josiah looks in disbelief at the healer. She was an incredible woman. He felt like he knew her well and yet knew nothing at all ABOUT her. He bowed deeply, more deeply than he had in quite some time.He spread his wings to accentuate the formality. "I can not thank you enough for what you've done for me," he says, rising up again, "But i will do my best to repay you, this much I swear." He doesn't want to see her go; tries to think of some way to keep her here with him. Sabrina smiles wide. “You can thank me on the way, we have assignment in Xalious. I have already sent a Raven.” She assumed, as a healer, it was an offer he couldn't resist. She gestured to the food, a lightness about her voice when she insists. “Eat, its is a long walk. Ro should be meeting us there about midday.” She gestured to the armor in kind. “I will help you when you've finished.” Meanwhile she moved to her own pieces and began readying herself for the small hike. She stashed many pointy items here and there, the sheath to her sword remained empty. She would not comment on that. “Also, the hair.” If he sat down she would approach him from behind, thin fingers already doing their best to smooth out the stubborn array of white strands. Really, he should do better to keep himself respectable. “Take care of yourself first, you are no good to me half kept.” Josiah didn't need to be told twice. He sat down at the table, and slowly but greedily began piling food into his mouth. He ate like a civilian, neatly. It was apparent that he did not prefer to devour, but rather to savor, He ate quite a bit, but stopped well before he wanted to, He wanted to be in fighting shape if he was going to accompany her on any type of journey. It was time to prove his worth. "I am excited to see what you can do with this mess," he chuckles, gesturing to his hair. Normally I just hack it off with my blade when it becomes cumbersome." He wiped his hands and face with a napkin, and remains seated, sitting at attention, It was clear that she wanted to get going, and he would do his best not to hinder her. Sabrina gave him far fewer braids than she had adorned herself with, his style being far more masculine than her own. It was over quickly, every last strand secured firmly to the back of his head, the lower half of the mess left to hang straight behind him. He would have made a fine elf with tell-tale tresses like those, not like her with the stark black, inky strands. Even with her own hair tied up high on her head, the length was brought down just to her hips; that piece alone an expertly raveled seven or more strands that created a fish scaled effect. There were bits of things in hers, flecks of silver and decorative bits that resembled morning dew. She draws her fingers against his jaw line, ensuring last nights shave was still fresh and smooth. It was. She smiled, letting her nails drag carelessly down the long muscular lines of his neck maybe a little further than necessary as she stopped just above his collar bone. “Very well then, your finished. “She backs away, expecting him to turn so she could marvel at his transformation. The food would remain on the table, often times the youth from the Mages Academy would wander down this way about lunch time to see what she had cooking. They were always good to clean up the mess, it was one of her rules, after all. She pulled elbow length gloves from her belt and began preparing herself for the venture in the outside world. Here it was safe, out there... not so much. Too many variables. Josiah feels remnants of last nights intoxication as Sabrina works on his hair. At her touch on his neck, he felt a wonderful chill, and something else...that charge again. It was not unpleasant. It simply felt like incredible power simmering beneath her skin. He got up, stretched again, and actually flexed all of his muscles, feeling completely renewed and ready. He gave her a sly smile and grabbed his gear, sliding on his breastplate over the cloak, and hiding the rest of the armor beneath it. He pulled two long, sturdy hunting knives apparently from nowhere, sliding one into the straps of his breastplate and another in a sheath on his boot. These were his only two contingency weapons...for the time being. He slid into the black armored gloves, a stark contrast against the bright nature of everything else he was wearing. Then he grabbed his dragonscale cloak and gestured to her with it. "Do you think you could help me with this one?" he asked lightly. "I'll wear it over my wings, and cast it off if I need to. It may come in handy." Sabrina was happy to oblige, never had she seen a male actually make ready before. She takes up the cloak and stands on the chair, surely he must have realized she'd have not been able to get it over his wings otherwise. She draped it neatly over, picking off a stray feather here and again, then turning him around to face her as she completed the ties. Her eyes found his and for a moment she paused, the glint of emerald flashing over the frosted mint that urged her to look away. Her hands went idle, but only long enough to retract back to the safety of her form. “Well, thats that. Hm?” She hops off the chair, landing in the oddest of silence when she and those heavy boots hit the floor. A grace held by few outside of her race. She heads to the door, taking up the bow and strapping it across her form. “Shall we?” Josiah catches the look in her eye and wonders momentarily if this was all too good to be true, A day ago he had been training tirelessly in the forest, with no mission except the unholy task that had been given to him by the apparition of Arkhen weeks ago...a mission he had not even decided he could accept yet. Now he was here, with guidance, and purpose. He felt better than ever. And he was more than ready, He picked up his shield, sheathed his dragon's tooth saber, and dons his helm, loving the feel of how it set upon his freshly braided hair. He pulled the white and blue hood over his head, held his wings close to his body so he could pass for some other race, and smiled at her, His eyes gleamed with ambition and confidence...and no small amount of desire. "Lead the way, my lady," he said, bowing once more. Smiled wide at his eagerness. “Alright then.” She opens the door and steps out, the sun welcoming her advance into its warming embrace. She seemed both more at ease and more on-guard a daring mix of things not to be disturbed. She lead the way, treading lightly despite those boots appearing to be weighted somehow. She would guide him east, then south, and finally west to the mountains of Xalious. She said little the whole way out, her music echoing in everything around her. She often looked to the sky, the trees, the ground... out here nothing else existed. Besides, she had to forget about that moment in her home before it all began. Those thought lead to bad places, and she wished to keep this person in good graces for some time.

Josiah said to you, "That was quite a hike, but I feel like we just began. What did you do to me last night?"" Sabrina looks up at Josiah from beneath hooded veil. “ It is surprising what a clean bill of health and a good night's rest can do. That is all.” It probably wasn't -all- but surely he got the general idea. She looked tired, eyes glancing up to the top of the Mage's tower. “Rohk should be along soon, he appears to be delayed at the pass.” She starts up the tower with brief explanation. “I know the guy who operates here, we can rest for the afternoon.”

Sabrina had actually managed to pass out at some point in the afternoon. Morning now, she sat up quickly, unraveling her arms from the person sleeping next to her. She stared at him for a moment, brows curiously furrowed in his direction before the spell on her left arm decided it was going to be awake with her. It always took some time for it to catch up and stimulate the generated memories it managed to record in her journeys. After a mild delay it finally hit her what she had been on her way to do and springtime eyes scan the empty room for signs of Rohk. She could sense him near and decided he must have stayed downstairs until she rose. Sleep being hard to come by he usually left her to it when he could. She looks down to find her legs intricately tangled around the Paladin's and she smiled. Then she stopped smiling, shaking mild sensations of affection from her head. This was not on the agenda. She had specimens to collect somewhere in Xalious, the lizardy kind. Gently, she removes herself from all contact, her eyes scanning his face for waking and despite a few small stirs she found none. In deathy silence she moves downstairs, leaving a Drowsy Doormouse curled and sleeping in his feathers. When he would finally wake he would do so with a proper escort, Pickles (named aptly according to his smell) would guide the Avian to where he needed to be.

Josiah woke up violently, gasping for air. His wings extended with a panicky mind of their own, knocking over several vials of strange liquids which thankfully did not break. He was sweating profusely, and his talons gripped the sheets beneath him in a vice grip, tearing through in several places. He looked around the room and began to relax, breathing heavily. It had been a dream. Relief washed over him, and he let his muscles unwind. He had dreamt of a terrible death...he had been alone in the darkness, submerged deep under the sea. He could still taste the salt as it rushed into his mouth and down his throat as he took a final gasp. This was the first time he had dreamt of such an end, and it was terrible. Normally, his nightmares consisted of great fires, the smell of burning flesh, or the sounds of screaming coming from people He would never be able to save. Oftentimes he would dream of trudging aimlessly through the desert, as the sun beat down mercilessly on his back and broken, useless wings, trying to drive r him mad. But this dream...was somehow worse. He heard an angry squeaking sound from somewhere on the floor. Leaning over the edge of the bed he spotted a doormouse, standing on its hind legs and looking up at him in disdain. He supposed this was one of Sabrinas many pets. He must have been sleeping alongside and been thrown by Josiahs sudden outburst. He dropped a taloned hand to the floor, and was surprised when the creature accepted his gesture without hesitation, running straight up his arm and onto his shoulder. All was forgiven, it seemed. He wondered where Sabrina had run off to. She was a flighty one at times, although he would never tell her that. It was much more natural for him to have a plan, to know what was happening at all times around him. Being with her was refreshing for that reason, but also maddening. As he dressed and armed himself, He could not help but to think back to last night. For convenience they had shared a bed, but with her so close to him he found it hard to sleep. Sabrina, however, was out almost immediately. It seemed as if she hadn't slept in weeks. He had laid beside her, watching her chest rise and fall peacefully, and tried to tell himself that she was completely unattainable. Halfway through the night, however, she turned over in her sleep, draping her arm across his bare chest and laying her face against the cushion of his wing. Without thinking, he kissed her once on th forehead, lightly. He felt a slight charge on her skin, but it was not unpleasant. With her warmth added to his own, he drifted off w quickly. This morning he wondered if he had crossed a line by kissing her e without her consent. However, he didn't feel guilty. It had Bern a natural, instinctive moment. However, he doubted he would tell her about it. Finally equipped in his mithril armor and the Paladins cloak Sabrina had given him, he draped his dark dragonscale cloak over his wings, struggling a bit to find the right angles. He made sure his dual hunting knives were securely in place, hidden in his armor, and pulled his hood up. It was time to find Sabrina. And if he couldn't do that, at least he could find her some samples. He just hoped she didn't need them alive. She hadn't discussed that with him yet. He said a quick prayer to Arkhen, as he often did in the morning. Recently it was more of a habit than an actual practice, but it made him feel better, so he kept it up. "Guide my steps today and every day, and grant me the strength to protect what matters most. Your will be done." He turned to look at Pickles, who seemed to be adamant about coming along for the ride. He spotted the vials he had knocked over as he woke from his nightmare. He bent down and picked them up. There were three, and they were all very small. He wondered if these were Sabrinas, or belonged to the Mage who owned this tower. Something in the back of his mind told him to take them, that they may be useful, although he had no idea what they were for. He found a safe place to tuck them in his coin purse, and left a healthy pile of gold coins on the bedside table, just in case he was stealing them. Finally ready, he went downstairs, in high spirits and ready from anything the day might bring. Pickles held on tightly.

Meadow 3s, 1w, 1s

Meadow A path runs through this meadow from the merchant's corner, and then turns west. Your sure that it would save time for the path to just cut straight west, but the maker of this dirt road obviously wanted travelers to see this serene place. Long, soft grass, and wild flowers invite you to lie down here and enjoy the peace and quiet of this place. Bees hum from flower to flower, collecting the sweet nectar, and unknowingly the means to create the plants offspring. This meadow shows how dignified and simple life can be sometimes, and you feel the need to ponder your own existence in this world called Hollow. To your west you see a path leading into the hills, while to your north you can see a building. A Preklek scouting party is here.

Sabrina was in the middle of some commotion just off the path. She found her specimens alright- alive and kicking. A few of the Preklek soldiers had taken to the hound, and of course, who wouldn't. The brutish halfbreed was all but annoyed at the fast moving creatures though their inferior weapons did little to penetrate his scaly hide. Like fine polished obsidian, the most they could gather was a spark as shavings from their metals glided off the well armored beasty. Twin tails would lash about, knocking them down repeatedly, but their swiftness in general made it hard to latch on with crushing jaw. At this precise moment the irritation of nails on a chalkboard, their weapons to his scales, he managed an awful noise. Scales reverberated against one another and that vibration sparked a molten glow than in a manner of a few seconds had caught him fully ablaze. Sabrina was handling her own business, only two had managed to waste their time with the smallish female. She was holding her own for the most part, taking to swinging that bow of hers and cracking the smaller of the scouts upside the jaw. It was a headlong hit, dislocating the jaw and sending that creature wheeling right and out of the way, while the other jumps over top of it- agile and goddam fast. She had pulled against the chord of the fine enchanted weapon, an arrow forming from knock to fingertips, glowing brightly silver until it solidified in her grip. It was only now that anyone would have taken into account she carried no arrows with that bow. Only now would it have seemed odd, and only now would it make sense. It leaves one to wonder why it never posed a question before. As she released it “Flas” was uttered from her lips, and the arrow was loosed in a single fluid movement. The force of the blow was a centralized current, throwing the final being a few good yards away from her. Her automatic reaction to the absence of her foes draws her attention to Rohk to see how he is fairing. In normal times she would know what he was on about, and he would know her as well; but times like these, well practiced as they were, they both managed to bridge a gap in their subconscious lest the others thoughts get tangled in their actions. It was then that she miscalculated, it was then she forgot to keep track of where she put things. From out of what seemed like nowhere a dangle-jawed creature wrapped his armored hand around her hair and hoisted her up kicking and screaming. She was raised a good eighteen inches off the ground, Her hands coming up to his gloved fist of hair and she wrenched to try... just try to remove her own gloves. She regretted her decision to wear them, had she known their would be enemies searching for their wounded she would have. She clamored on, unable to get free her own hand and in a moment of frustration she called out the most obscene words of her home language. The Prek... laughed.

Josiah tore through the forest with a sense of urgency. Moments ago, he heard shouting in the distance. They were indistinct, but deep in his gut he knew something was terribly wrong. Sabrina had been eluding him all day. He would spot an occasional track which he took to be Rohk's and proceed in one direction for hours before finding a bloody mess and no sign of his friend. This had gone on all day. What he found more disturbing, however, was that he came across almost no enemies. No violent creatures whatsoever. This was frustrating, and made him incredibly anxious. Had she decided he was no good to her and left him behind? Had she killed everything around already and moved on, her samples collected? He felt that this was not the case. Sabrina didn't act like it...but he knew she had at least some mild feeling for him. He could see it in her eyes, could feel it in the electricity of her flesh that made his feathers stand on end. Now, night was approaching, and he heard the distinct sounds of violence somewhere to the west of him. He abandoned the road, his forest-dwelling orphan instincts kicking in, and made his way through the forest on the straightest line he could. When the path would open wide enough, he would pump his wings strongly, propelling him forward much more quickly. He had never learned how to use his wings for proper flight...no one had ever taught him anything about being an Avian, for that matter. This trick was all he had managed to muster so far. His speed across land was incredible, as long as there was nothing in his path. It seemed to take much longer than it should have to reach the meadow. His heart was pounding. He had recognized the sound of Sabrina's voice, that beautiful accent turning into something violent and ugly. Something had gone terribly wrong. He lowered his head and flapped his clumsy wings, tearing through the foliage and dodging the hefty trunks of trees. He could hear Rohk, an abysmal and powerful sound. He must be fighting intensely. It all felt like a dream. One of those nightmares where he was needed but could never make it in time. Before he knew it, he erupted through the edge of the woods and into the clearing. There was Rohk, fully engulfed in flames and snapping viciously at what appeared to be six or seven Preklek warriors. They were evading him quite effectively. Josiah knew Rohk was a worthy foe in any situation, so he stopped paying attention to that battle and scanned the meadow for Sabrina. For a few desperate moments he could not find her, and then he heard her, cursing in some foreign tongue. She sounded more angry than scared, but Josiah knew she must be in dire straits to sound like that. He ran toward the sound of her voice, cranking his wings as hard as he could to gain speed. As he approached, he saw everything that was going on. Adrenaline coursed through his veins, and he took in all the details. There she was, dangling helplessly in the grasp of a gigantic Preklek, who had noticed Josiah and was looking him straight in the eye from yards away. There was another, smaller Preklek rising from the ground, grabbing his jaw and making furious noises. He had a blade in his hand, and was clearly going to impale Sabrina in a moment. Without hesitation, and too far away for a direct attack, Josiah unsheathed the hunting knife hidden in his breastplate and hurled it as hard as he could, like he had when he was a starving child hunting rabbits in the woods. He aimed for the back of the head of the smaller Preklek. He hoped his aim was true. Rohk had by then managed the majority of his assailants, the final one proving far to slippery to nail. It left him looking ridiculous as he chased him here and there like some toy that was designed to get the better of him. Like a scorpion those tails towered over his form, jabbing and slicing through the air for not more than a few near misses that bounced off the armored shield. The rising Preklek found his ground, pissed off and adamant about killing that damnable female but his vengeance would be cut short by a powerfully thrown Avian blade that sliced like a bullseye through his cornea and by sheer force continued until the hilt settle mid-brain. With release of Avian metal came a labored grunt that caught the attention of the few living lizards that remained; One held the girl, one played cat and mouse with the hound, and one more. It was larger than all the rest and stood commandingly over his dying squad. The commander looked at Josiah like he did not belong in all this. A problem he would take care of himself as he raised his sword from its propping position, the tip buried in the ground to support crossed hands. He turned, taking the first advance to rid this picture of the winged newcomer. Sabrina was released, falling to her knees only to catch a badly aimed blade in the meat of her shoulder where the one who held her meant nothing more than to discard the small prize so he could take after the large winged one. It hurt like a bitch but nothing vital caught damage and thin gloved fingers wrapped around the poisoned piece but the pain was too unbearable to pull it out now. She assumed he went after a third party, one she heard but had yet to see and as she stood she saw the second blade coming, in that slow motion an unmoving sense where her body would not thwart damage as quickly as her mind said it should. The shining glint passed within a few hairs of her open eye, catching a stray chunk of tresses that had worked its way free from the once carefully calculated braids. The chunk was severed and she watched it fall as the rage built up inside her. She should have never assumed he would leave business unfinished. The piece of hair fell to the ground, helpless and limp and useless. She couldn't regrow hair, and likely no one would even notice since it was such a trivial amount. But it was gone, she watched it fall, and a darkness filled veridian eyes to a cold and near pitch shade. Her Elven words were smooth and stern, the initial sign that anything was happening was when the lizard trips over a bump that was not there to begin with and the ground began to buckle. He tried to catch his step, even used that useless tail to attempt some form of leverage though he teetered to fall. She was on him like a scavenger in the dead of winter; her bare hand already ungloved and wrapped halfway up his crooked jaw. If a lizard could feel fear it would. Almond dark eyes dug into his core, the force of those enchanted boots doing what they did best as the ground beneath them began to form a pit from the weight from the gravity enchantment. His chest plate indented where she balanced herself upon him and the dark scales turned dusty gray beneath her fingers first. He was gasping for air, his tail thrashing about as her crouch upon his thrashing form was tightened. Useless, all useless. She was siphoning the life right out of him and magnifying it to use against him all in one complete cycle. The pit grew deeper, cracking around the edges and beginning to swallow them both whole. Rohk had seen this before, he had felt her rage before. It never ended well. He turned tails on his current plaything and headed straight for her, the luminous streak of his body making its way across the meadow was all that could be seen of his speed or current location. He rammed into her, full force, scolding her in flurry of huffs and enraged growls. She went flying, tumbling several times over across the tall grasses; if not for those boots she'd have gone a deathly distance. Tired of these games, a taloned paw crushes down on her victims face, ripping his head clean off in one swipe, Rohk steps out of the pit. She had landed on her back, the wind purged from her lungs ans left gasping for dear sweet air. She turned her head to make out any form from between gently swaying blades of grasses, only she couldn't see and she couldn't get up. Too much energy expended, and so that must have been what Rohk was on about. Rendered useless she lay there clutching the poisoned blade still positioned in her shoulder. Her eyes falling to her companion who meant to stand by and watch what the Avian was capable of. Ro paced a half circle around the duo, a face off he couldn't pay enough to see but for the time being it was a fair fight. One on one, live or die the hound was bound by honor not to intervene.

Josiah saw his blade land true, destroying the skull of the Preklek who had dared to threaten Sabrina. Almost simultaneously, he saw the larger reptile drop Sabrina to the ground, and in painful slow motion he saw the blade enter the hefty part of her shoulder, just shy of her neck. A clumsy blow, but one that could still have dire consequences. He felt an insatiable rage explode within him, and he charged forward, drawing his sword as he hurtled toward her attacker.However, before he knew it he was thrown to the side, landing ungracefully on his back as the earth began to shake violently beneath him. From the corner of his eye he could see Rohk charging toward Sabrina, flames burning tirelessly all across his body.The rumbling continued for several moments and then stopped abruptly. When he could finally stand again, he could see Sabrina lying on the grass, one hand grasping her open wound. There was a good amount of blood surrounding her. He began to focus his energy, preparing to heal her the best he could...but then he saw Rohk. The hellhound was pacing back and forth, staring into the thickening darkness behind Josiah. With a sinking feeling in his stomach, he turned to investigate the new threat. Before him, about ten paces away, was the largest Preklek fighter he had ever seen. Dark green skin covered a thickly muscled body that still looked like it could move with great agility. There were spikes running down its tail, which Josiah had never seen before on one of the smaller beasts. In its hands was a huge broadsword, one that looked heavier than Josiah would even attempt to lift. It didn't seem to be giving the beast a hard time, though. This was going to be a tough one, he decided. Rohk did not seem to be interested in getting into the upcoming battle...so it was up to him. He was surprised at the calm that consumed him. This was a true test, and he would succeed, as he always had before. In his mind, several scenarios played out quickly, even as the Preklek took his first heavy step towards him on the battlefield. The best idea, strategically, would be to use his agility against the larger foe and hope to tire him out before landing a serious blow...and hopefully without that huge blade coming anywhere near him. Somehow he doubted, however, that he could use the Preklek tactics against a Preklek with much success. The other option would be a full on assault, a brutal display of force...but this didn't sit right with him either. Meanwhile, Sabrina was bleeding out nearby, and he had no idea how extensive her injuries were. The key was to keep this fight quick...and neat. His foe was advancing towards him quickly now, and he was just standing there waiting for him, thinking. It was time to move...to do something, anything. If Arkhen was watching, if he was truly the god Josiah had always believed in...surely he would give him the strength to survive. He took a deep breath, and suddenly opened his wings to their full extent, fanning them as widely as he could. His true wingspan was quite impressive, more than fifteen feet across, and he used them now as a display; a warning to his much larger enemy. The Preklek paused momentarily in his advance.Josiah took great pleasure and care in cracking his neck in both directions before readying his blade, and beckoning the beast forward silently with his free hand. The wounded Elfess could see a large wingspan just over her line of sight that was mostly blocked by lush grasses. Rohk was translating the situation, their connection binding back together through efforts of them both. She finds the energy to sit up, a circle forming around where she lay and the blood pooling where her shoulder had been. The first few meters of grasses wilted, turning an ashy gray and crumbling to dust as the patch stretched out further still to accommodate the life she was stealing from her immediate surroundings. Gods it hurt. She wrapped thin, blood drenched digits around the hilt of the blade, tugging sheepishly and cringing at her own efforts. She curses aloud and slams her fist to the ground all the while biting her lip to somehow redirect the pain shooting through her shoulder. Rohk sends a rolling bark in her direction, anyone with any intuition would have sworn they heard the Common word 'Silence' but would not be able to pinpoint the reality of what they just heard. His attention was on the battle that would ensue; four crimson eyes focused and determined in just that direction. His pace halted as he took in the reality of it all, if this Avian fell it would indeed fall to him to make sure his person escaped. Their link that bound them meant only that her survival was in his best interest; they would suffer the same fate, no matter whose fault it was. Still, he wished the Avian a speedy death- then he could have his turn. Sabrina gave another go, this time leaving her timidity on pause as she yanked out the blade with enough force to sling a stream of semi-clotted crimson to mark its existence against the greens. She choked on her own scream as tears involuntarily streamed down her cheeks. It burned, something awful. She lifts the dripping blade to her nose, sniffing the metal with great distaste. Poison. She curses again, only to earn a stomped foot from the hound who was already tired of listening to her whine. She stands up with varied levels of effort- nearly giving up half way to rise. The dagger hung, barely so, in her weakened grip and the burning sensation was already fading. Regeneration had a habit of conquering the most debilitating problems first... so long as she could stay conscious for it. Rohk, exasperated, trots the short distance, lending his body to support her weight. “Piss off.” She wasn't having it as the real problem had not yet been resolved. Green-gray orbs do their best to focus on Josiah and the Preklek before him. She took in his crest, his sword, his ring... Special Forces. “Great.” Any attempt she made in his direction was corrected by a hound nearly as stubborn as she. She scolded him, Elvish being her natural tongue. In return for her insolence twin tails rise up behind her, wrapping expertly around her neck, and pulling her to the ground. He stepped on her- not so as to harm, but to keep the little bitch in the safest spot possible for the time being. She lay there motionless for a bit, the beasty's act was kind enough to leave her a clear view of what was to come. She thought it was a clear view, but something was fading it around the edges like a dream in the midst of losing its detail. Rohk was in her head, 'stay with me.'

The Preklek commander smirked at Josiah and his taunting gesture and began to stride forward again, scraping his blade along the ground, leaving a trench in its wake. As he approached, Josiah tried to control his breathing. The darkness was finally setting in, and the full moon shone brightly behind his approaching foe. It was bright enough to make him squint. This gave him a spark of inspiration. It might just work. He raised his shield to the ready, and held his saber low. The beast came closer, gaining speed, lifting his huge blade in both hands. He was going to swing horizontally, it appeared. Josiah watched motionlessly until the last second, and then leapt out of the path of the blade, rolling under the blow, drawing his wings in tight to keep them safe. He turned to look at the Preklek, assuming he would still be recovering from the momentum of such a vicious swing...and he was right on top of him, the blade high in the air, coming straight down at his head. The speed was incredible. Josiah raised his shield in his crouched position and took the blow fully on his arm. The shock rolled through every muscle, made his boots drag into the ground. Without thinking about it, and possibly without even willing his arm to do so, he lashed out aggressively with his saber at the leg of the Preklek. He wasn't aiming at anything, wasn't even looking, in fact. If he had he would have seen how narrow the window of success was to land that blow. The shinguards worn by the commander were exceptionally well-made...but to accommodate the awkward joints in the legs they were exposed for an inch on the sides, right by the knee. Somehow, Josiahs wild slash landed precisely on this spot. The beast howled gutturally, more in anger and surprise than pain, and hot blood shot out of the wound in torrents. 'First blood' Josiah thought, but didn't have much time to rejoice as the commander recovered from the shock. He kicked Josiah squarely in the chest with his wounded leg, sending him sprawling backward onto his wings with a thud. He growled, and wound up for a death blow, ready to end this battle quickly. As the huge sword flew toward his head, Josiah could only think of one word: 'Sabrina...' In a desperate attempt, Josiah swung his saber up at the commanders broadsword, attempting to parry the fatal blow intended to split his skull in half. The attempt succeeded...somewhat. Josiah heard a massive thud, and felt a tiny, sharp pain in his left ear. The broadsword had landed square into the ground beside his head, slicing his ear nearly in half. However, defending the blow sent his own weapon flying, at least ten yards away, into the darkness.The Preklek looked down at him with no emotion on it's face. They locked eyes for a moment, and Josiah felt his foes bewilderment, his frustration, and his rage. The commander seemed to sense his thoughts as well, and began yanking on the hilt of his blade to free it from the ground. Instinctively, Josiah wrapped his shield arm and armored glove around the blade, attempting to keep it mired in the dirt of the meadow. Something inside him was guiding him, it seemed. He felt calm, even without his weapon. The Preklek roared at him, spittle flying down upon his face, enraged at the thought of not having control of his weapon. Josiah used his wings for leverage, and kicked squarely into the beasts stomach, doubling him over. As the Preklek fell to one knee over him, Josiah swiftly pulled out his boot knife, and aimed for the neck. His aim was true, but the commander caught his wrist, and they struggled over the weapon. Josiah wriggled free of the Preklek and slashed at him again with the blade, but he was no match for this enemy in close quarters. He received a brutal punch to the face for his efforts, and went spinning across the plain, his ears ringing. He turned to see his foe pulling the giant blade free, and rising slowly. This had to end now. As the Preklek turned, Josiah saw his eyes scrunched up, his face illuminated by the light of the brilliant moon. He wasted no time. He launched into a Sprint, aided by his massive wings, and crashed headlong into his opponent, driving his shield into his face.The Preklek fell quickly, and Josiah followed, his hunting knife raised high for the kill. He plunged it downward, but the beast caught the blade in its bare hand, blood pouring out around the grip. Enough was enough.Josiah let go of the blade and rose, using his wings to lift his exhausted body, and kicked the Preklek dead in the face. As soon as his head hit the ground, Josiah was again on top of him, pounding his face into the dirt with his shield. He unleashed everything he had onto the beast...and after many blows there was no more movement beneath him. He rose again, completely drained, and stumbled off to find Sabrina. She needed him, after all.

She didn't see much, an array of veiled figures tousling about, but with her vision failing she resorted to closing her eyes anyway. What she saw through Rohk's interpretation looked positive. The link caused her to feel a little let down by it as the hellbeast stained every thought with wishing the Avian to fail. Sabrina smiled at the simplistic nature of his urge to bloody things up, it was a rare gift to witness such bold honesty straight from the prospective of another, too often relaying an emotion with words left the giver in a position of deceit. She smiled because of that, but mostly she smiled because she wavered somewhere between this world and the next. She wasn't dying, but the numbing nature of her natural defenses were burning the poison from her system leaving her feverish and delusional. She made some Elvish joke about 'feeling like chicken tonight' and she laughed horribly at Josiah's expense. The wound continued to bleed, the effects of the poison-purge taking most, if not all of her energy. It was a semi conscious effort, the awareness alone was enough to address the issue but she did need to be awake for it to work. Rohk did his part as she began to drift, pushing his tusk into the wound to make her open her eyes wide in a rigid silent scream. She curls over on her side in the fetal position, crying and clutching her shoulder in a sweaty and childish heap.

Josiah limped quickly over to where Sabrina lay in the grass. Everything around her was coated in blood, and the foliage had died. Rohk regarded him almost dismissively as he approached. His entire body throbbed with dull pain, and he discovered he might have broken one of his wings in the scuffle as well. Utterly exhausted, he dropped his shield, dripping with blood and brain matter, unceremoniously on the ground and knelt next to Sabrina, who was delirious with fever, speaking in Elvish and laughing. He smiled down at her and removed his gloves. He wasn't sure he had enough energy for this, but he would give her all he had. "Give me the strength, " He breathed, stroking Sabrina's hair off of her face. "Your will be done." He closed his eyes, and laid his healing hands upon her gently, and he did not let go until darkness overcame him. He collapsed beside her in the meadow, the moon a gracious and benevolent witness.

Sabrina stirred somewhere in her unconscious mind, brows furrowing deeply as the moonlight first appeared blinding. Her shoulder hurt, the foremost thought in her mind as she tried to mentally assess the damage and the means that brought her to this state. Her fever was gone, her ability countering the effects some time between injury and unconsciousness. There was something else though, an energy radiating from the tiniest points along her arm. She turns her head, focusing on the Avian who lay next to her and then following his arm to where three fingers remained in contact with her skin. Even in bleak awareness of some system failure her body's natural reactions began taking from the most willing and available surrounding, Josiah. She didn't know how long he had been there but her first instinct was to push his hand away and scream at his blissful expression that he was a fool and insane and stupid. She can only locate one glove and she looks up at Rohk who was more than willing to let him die for the sake of his person. Her elvish tongue was laced with bitterness toward him "You should be ashamed of yourself. Now help me drag him to the house." She did her best to hoist him without actually touching him, though her shoulder was still wounded and the weakness still weighing heavy on her slight frame. She looked to the clump of blood ridden tresses that stuck to the wound... the wound. Moving her hair she realizes that what she feels is only the aftermath of where a wound should be and she looks to the Paladin, more angry than anything. Beneath his armor there would be no way to see the damage that he had taken upon himself, in due time the scar would be a constant reminder and Sabrina was more sorry for that than anything. "Get him home." Rohk, reluctant as he may have been flopped the Avian across his hackles and eyed Sabrina speculatively. She answers him aloud, "Of course he is heavy, he is wearing full armors...get on with you." Josiah wasn't to heavy, Rohk merely disliked carrying people like some mule trafficking the near dead. Before she could say anything else he was gone, the black streak that carried the glean of rich moonlight took him in the direction of Larket. She would meet them there in some time, taking far longer to travel by foot than by hound.

Josiah slept more deeply than he ever had before. He felt neither the pain from his injuries, nor the jostling movements of his body as Rohk hurtled toward Larket. Instead, he dreamed; but not of fire and death, or failure. He dreamed of moonlight, and the Druids' Tree...and the electricity that rippled through Sabrinas skin. He dreamt of Arhken smiling at him, gripping his shoulder approvingly. He dreamt of stars above him as he waded into sea, and when he was submerged and there was no more air he felt no fear, because Sabrina was coming toward him, her hair trailing behind her freely. When he felt he could go no longer without a fresh breath, she pressed her lips to his and gave him her own air freely, smiling and staring into his eyes. Moments later he returned it. This went on for an eternity, and he was satisfied.