Remnant of Kyros

"Hey, buddy. Cat nap is over, you got night watch." one of the humans barked, and Ahjam groaned, as he was roused from a dream of his life before, when he had his families wealth and power to comfort him. Had the man not shattered his flight of fancy he would have been drinking a lovely glass of wine with many lovely sphinxes in his company.

Oh well, time enough for dreams when he sleeps in his own palace, and not the rickety wagon of a royal escort.

The feline stretched, and donned his leather armor over the loose shirt and pants he had been sleeping in. The battlemage preferred light armor, and while leather was light, supple, and allowed free range of movement, he often wished he could afford chain mail, or perhaps some form of enchanted protection, as his leather padding was not befitting a dashing rogue, and was an insult to a king to be.

He exited the wagon, ignoring the looks from the other, human guards. His eyes, far better suited to the night then his fellows, glistened like sapphires. His sword hummed with a combination of excitement and anticipation.

Yes, his sword was humming at his side, though only he heard it. He was slowly learning that the blade was more than it seemed, it's power was great and it seemed possessed of a certain awareness not common among most weaponry. But then, the Winds of Fortune was not common weaponry. As if sensing his silent praise, the blade whipped up a soft gale that made the mercenary's fur shift, a soft chill that made the transition from sleep to awareness a touch easier. With a hand on the blade's hilt he walked towards the front of the caravan, as that was where he expected trouble to be if there was to be any.

Night had fallen outside and the wagon train had come to a brief halt.  This meant to the guards of the day and night shifts that it was time to change places, allowing the one to rest and the other to take up their duty and guard the princess of Overna.  Not for the first time, a certain being within the third carriage mused about the irony of a demonic scion being assigned to guard a virgin princess on her way to be betrothed to the prince of Sunguard.  As it was, he had been contracted as a mercenary and paid a handsome advance fee for this task and for his silence about said task until its beginning.  He had demonstrated his skill before the contractor and been chosen to go along with the mission, but no one had ever discovered his secret: that he was in fact demonkin.  

Though he supposed that this was due to the fact that he did not have overly obvious signs of his heritage, as Kyros was not an overly conspicuous being and did not transfer a sign such as horns or a tail.  No, Xanthus's signs manifested as him seeming to be standing in shadow even in the brightest light, having shadow runes that moved across his skin and formed Kyros's mark in random places across his body, and of course the Daimon effect.  Not that these were the only signs, but they were some of the more significant ones.  Another one was the one that was in effect at the moment inside of his carriage; shadows tended to move about on occasion when he was present, almost akin to moving things.  The other men in the carriage had either not noticed or called the effect a trick of their eyes, not thinking to attribute the phenomenon to the silver-haired man in their company.  

Donning his armor, a pitch black studded leather ensemble, Xanthus through an equally black hooded cloak around his shoulders and placed Catharsis on his back in its long sheath.  Catharsis was a sword of deep purple hue, with ripples that signified that the sword's metal was folded hundreds if not thousands of times.  The blade was sharper than any other the demonkin had ever owned, and was strong yet flexible...and it spoke to him through vibrations, auras, and a dream 'voice' that only he seemed to be aware of.  At the moment, the blade felt light and was vibrating a joyous cadence, as it felt as comfortable in the darkness of the night as its wielder.  Throwing up his hood, Xanthus smiled lightly, displaying unnaturally white teeth before walking to the front of the carriage train.  If there was to be danger, he wanted to be the first to see it, not the last.  As he moved forward, however, Catharsis began to hum deeper, a curious note that almost gave Xanthus pause.  For a moment, he was tempted to ask his sword what caused this note of curiosity, but he decided that he would simply ask later.  For now, the night was young, the moon was full, the stars were out, and the scion of Kyros was awake once more.  'Come, Catharsis, let us have fun this night.' As he moved to the front, a Sphinx caught Xanthus's eye, as they were an unusual sight to him compared to the various humans present. He nodded a greeting to the cat-like being and took up a position in the front of the carriage, placing them almost side by side.

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It took a few minutes for the night-shift to get into position. Four guards on either side of the caravan. two of them next to a single carriage. Then one at the front and one in the back. With the other twelve day-shift guards, the four day-shift drivers, the princess and Parem'Zel resting inside the carriages. With all members of the company in place, the driver in the front carriage yelled out-load in a coarse, rasping voice "ALL FORWARD". The caravan seemed to lurch forward slightly as they began moving once more.


Parem'Zel sat with sideways in the 2nd carriage on a seat of velvet. The princess on the opposite side. He made a noticeable sigh as he closed the book he was reading. As an agent to the royal family for almost a century he was fairly well known among the palace. But as a gargoyle, he was never at home. Outside the palace he was looked at with anger and suspicion. To think he had saved these people from giant attacks a dozen times. This was the thanks he got? Bah, it didn't matter. Everything changes over time.

As the carriage began to move once again he placed his book on the seat next to him. Quite casually he spoke to the princess. "So Illeia, are you looking forward to the wedding?" The young girl gazed lazily out the window of the carriage. Her hand stroking her blond hair methodically. "Why would I be looking forward to a marriage with a man I have never even met face to face?" Parem dropped the topic and went back to his leather bound book. He knew this girl since she was a baby. She was strong willed and never backed down from a confrontation. Something he knew through his years of experience would one day get her killed.

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Ahjam nodded back to the dark clad man, who he supposed was another member of the hired guard. He thought it strange that the king would rely so heavily on mercenary forces, but the idea of gold finally lining his pockets made him decide not to question the motives of the Overnan royals. And there was another force keeping his thoughts from forming.

His sword. It was humming louder now. He clutched the handle, and he swore that it was growing warm. He was still learning what this blade was capable of, but he had no idea what would make it react like this. As if responding to his question, the wind shifted, blowing from him to the other figure, a soft breeze, but still apparent to the feline creature.

The cat listened softly to his sword's humming, fearful that it might be a warning. Instead, he felt that it was... curious. Something about the other drew it's attention. "Intriguing.." he purred softly to himself.

He then smiled, flashing his fangs in as non-threatening a way as he could. "Greetings. I am Ahjam Salmara, Heir to glories untold." he said with a smile, and then a soft, purring laugh. He was after all a silver tongue, and he did not want to appear too arrogant. So he would let the other imagine he was joking, playing on the stereotype of the sphinx as high and mighty. Though, is it a stereotype if it is true? "Though currently I have not inherited much of anything, which is why I am here." he continued. It was a trick he had learned from his time among human nobles. Asking for information often led to suspicions, but volunteer information, and others feel compelled to do the same.

Ahjam eyed the man carefully, though his sapphire eyes betrayed nothing, only gentle observation. Until his eyes found the other's sword, and his own blade shifted of it's own accord. What could it mean? Were the swords related? Brothers, perhaps? Or perhaps rivals? Only time would tell, but Time was something that a sphinx had plenty of.

The sphinx had turned towards him and with a smile begun conversation, introducing himself as Ahjam Salmara. The chuckle immediately coming afterwards signified the fact that he might have been joking about being an 'heir to glories untold,' though Xanthus thought with a note of amusement that the sphinx reminded him slightly of the noble lords of Darkridge. As the feline spoke, Xanthus's attention shifted slightly, as his sword began to hum deeper and grow more heavy. He could feel the weight of it growing, as it was sometimes wont to do when it desired to communicate.

It had other methods of course: though Xanthus did not know this specifically, his was the Spirit sword of the Elemental Drake Swords, and this one was the sword that held power over life, death, and the mind. It was the latter that allowed it to communicate in its own unique ways, similarly to how the Air sword could communicate through wind. What information that Xanthus knew about his sword led him to believe that it was intelligent, not only in the sentient sense but also in sheer might of the mind. It was also quite fond of making the demonkin learn things in his own time and by his own hand and devices. Unless there were a need, Xanthus would learn little from the sword through its most direct methods. This was not something that Xanthus minded however...indeed, he enjoyed the challenges that Catharsis offered him, such as this one before him now. It was rare that the blade reacted so obviously in the presence of an individual, meaning that there was something more than Xanthus could immediately notice happening around him. Something clearly to do with this sphinx.

"I am Xanthus Vas'Revenas of Darkridge, Heir of Darkness. Clearly my inheritance has come to me fairly swiftly, though it will fade some come morning." Xanthus said with a gesture towards the night sky and the shadows of the trees among them. It was not entirely a jest, though it would have sounded to one to the ears of most peoples. To most, it would have sounded a jest that referenced Xanthus's ancestral home of Darkridge, the city-state that never saw the sun. To others, the fact that he was in the night guard. Only Xanthus knew the fact that he had been referring to an entirely real succession, one that traced its line back to darkness itself. "As to why I am here...well, adventurers must eat, and we must have gold to realize our ambitions, no? Beyond this, it strikes me as amusement to be guarding a princess." He said with something close to a chuckle, though the laughter did not quite reach his eyes, which were for the moment examining the sphinx non-nonchalantly.

Catharsis's weight dropped suddenly to nothing when Xanthus's eyes lighted on the sword at the cat-being's waist, and for a moment Xanthus was tempted to cock his head to the side in curiosity. Instead he simply continued to smile and hold the sphinx's eyes. 'Catharsis...what is this...?' The demonkin asked his sword with naked suspicion in his mental voice. He perceived a rush of amusement, as though the sword knew something that he did not...which it did. 'Catharsis..?' Xanthus asked of his sword, suddenly quite suspicious though keeping his eyes set. The sword had acted curious before, but now it was acting amused...almost smug, as though it had answered a question of its own that no one else had even been aware of. What could make a sword curious about another sword? Well, if by chance the sphinx happened to draw the sword, perhaps Xanthus could find out, because clearly Catharsis was waiting for him to figure this one out himself.

The other figure was certainly forthcoming. An heir to darkness? That was an odd thing to say, though if he was from Darkridge that cat couldn't see a anything else that such a turn of phrase could mean. And the fact that both were in this for gold certainly endeared the other to the would be king. He smiled cheerfully, his sword having quieted down now that it had apparently communicated it's concerns.

"Xanthus. Intriguing name." the sphinx purred. "And you are an intriguing person. You act quite at home in the dark, for a human. Your kind normally goes to great lengths to escape the darkness." he commented casually, his eyes scanning the area. He really wished this caravan could move faster, he wanted nothing more than to be done with this mission, and counting his gold. After all, what did he care for a human noble? Particularly one already betrothed. Though, he was curious...

"So have you actually seen the young princess we are guarding?" he asked with a cheshire grin. While he preferred the company of his own kind, the cat was not opposed to the pursuit of less feline conquests. Though, he did not entertain the idea with any seriousness, as he suspected it would end with him beheaded. "Is she the flower of Overna? Or perhaps it's jewel? Or does she hide away because she is neither?" he asked the last bit much more quietly, so only Xanth could hear, as he suspected the guards would take offense. He laughed mischievously, his stance much less guarded, not that he was very defensive earlier. He breathed deeply of the night air, almost hoping a few bandits would get uppity. He was getting bored.

When the sphinx commented on his being at home in the dark, Xanthus shrugged lightly and helped himself to a small chuckle. "When you are raised in a land that does not see the sun, you learn to love the darkness. Why should I attempt to escape where I feel most at home? Even my eyes love the darkness more than the light; I see further than most other humans without light." In fact, Xanthus's eyesight was actually better in darkness, another gift from his ancestral sire. Even now, he scanned the area with eyes that bore perfect clarity, perceiving the tiniest of details and others might have had trouble beholding in the full light of the sun.

"To answer your question about the princess..." Xanthus returned Ahjam's cheshire grin with a smile of his own, looking behind himself in an obviously exaggerated attempt to ensure that no one was eavesdropping on the conversation. Most men would have likely been more careful about speaking of the princess in less than 'noble wording,' though clearly neither Xanthus nor Ahjam were 'most men.' "I'm afraid that I have never laid eyes on the woman, though I imagine that she must be a something of a flower if her royal father sent this much of a guard for her safety. Though on the subject of flowers, I cannot speak for the...condition of her own. She does stay in that carriage during every hour of every day. Whom is to say what goes on inside?"

The voice that Xanthus was using was hardly appropriate for the conversation, though he doubted that anyone would bother attempting to 'correct' him. After all, none but men were guarding this escort and many of them were mercenaries. Whom among them would care if a few jokes were had at their precious 'cargo's' expense? After smiling once more, this time at his jest, Xanthus turned his head forward into the darkness for a moment, hoping to give a small semblance of being 'on duty.' Catharsis had fortunately gone quiet, simply humming a pleasant tune on his spinal cord that meant that the blade was currently quite satisfied. Clearly it was satisfied for the reason that it had left Xanthus with a rumor that he could not easily nor readily answer, but that was something that the scion of Kyros could place his mind into later. After all, he had quite some time left to ponder it, considering how far this train had left to travel.

Parem glanced outside out of boredom. He pulled up his velvet black hood and cloak. Folding in his wings so he looked human in appearance. Two steel daggers strapped to his legs and a high-quality, Cynthian made rapier sword that he nicknamed "Kimyamoto" in gargile, or "Silent Fire" in the common tongue. The same blade he had used to slay giants. Oh how he missed the glory days.

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Parem'Zels Cynthian Rapier
(Kimyamoto|Silent Fire)

Before the princess could ask what he was up to he opened up the carriage door (while it was moving) and gracefully climbed to the top of carriage. Making his way to the drivers seat. The driver made a slight grin toward him. "It was hoping I would get relief for the night Parem. Took ya long enough." Parem smiled at the middle aged man. He was a servant at the royal palace. One of his only true friends he had made in all his time working for the royal family. He grabbed his hand and they shook in only a way that good friends can. "Well, you know how absorbed I get when i'm in the middle of a good book Leonus. Just couldn't stop myself."

Parem quickly took the reigns for the horses and motioned for Leonus to rest in the carriage. As he sat still in the carriage, the silence of the forest seemed almost deafening. No owls hooting, no birds chirping, nothing, just utter silence. Under normal circumstances he would have giving more thought to this. But he pushed it out of his mind. What did he know anyway, this was the darkwood, its very name is supposed to deter travelers. Not that it stopped him though. The night dragged on and Parem decided it was best to focus on the road ahead while the caravan slowly marched through the woods.

Ahjam laughed heartily beside Xanthus, glad that he had found some amusing company. Once his laughing fit passed he settled into a low purr. He knew their conversation would offend the human nobles, but none who heard it seemed to take offense. He must be in the company of mercenaries. Odd that the king would send so few of his own men. A sound behind him made the cat's ears twitch, and he saw a man crawl out of the lady's carriage and take a seat at the reigns. A smirk crossed his face. He nodded backwards, directing the other man's attention, and with a smirk he said, "Seems your theory has some credence friend. The princess has had company!" he snickered.

The sphinx doubted that the man that had just left the carriage had been there for that reason, but it was funny enough an idea that he entertained it for a moment. After all the trip was otherwise rather dull. The cat yawned, still smiling. "I imagine her groom-to-be will be furious to find his future bride couldn't wait for their honeymoon for such activities, eh?" he jested, perhaps a bit louder than he should have. But really, he doubted anyone of import could hear him. And even if they did, what were they going to do?

The sphinx need not have bothered, for Xanthus had already turned his head when he heard the carriage door opening. He shared another chuckle with Ajham at the princess's expense as he noticed the man coming out of her moving cabin. The timing had been perfect, after all. Then something occurred to the demonkin, something that should have occurred long beforehand. He had heard the carriage door opening, though this was not the issue. What was the issue was the fact that he had heard it so clearly. He had been born and raised in the darkness, and even adventured in the night for the most part. He knew the sounds of the night creatures, from the bats of the caves to the owls of the forests. There had been no sound to distract his ears from the sound of the door. In fact...there seemed to be no sounds at all in this particular area. 'I realize that we are in the darkwood in the dead of night, but this silence is not natural.' For a moment, Xanthus wondered if anyone else had noticed, but quickly decided that they had not.

He wondered for a moment whether or not he was making a big deal out of something that was incredibly minor, but another listen about confirmed his suspicions. There was no sound in this forest, though something made the silence worse. There was no sound. No wind rustling the leaves overhead, sounds of branches moving about and cracking. The wildlife might have been excused, but since when was there not even a sound of air circulation in a forest? Even now, the silence was so intense that because his mind registered it, he began to hear everything that was happening around him much too clearly. "Ahjam," Xanthus began in a voice that was much quieter and much more sobered than what it had been. "Do you hear anything particularly off in this wood?" The demonkin's void-like eyes were centered on the sphinx, compelling him to hear the message behind the words.

Parem stood to his feet in the carriage. Something shifted in the shadows deep in the forest. Far to the right, just beyond his field of vision, he couldn't make it out but the figure was obviously humanoid in appearance. Then it happened, a massive oak tree crashed to the forest floor blocking the caravans path. The horses roared in protest and the entire company came to a sudden stop. Parem pulled down his hood revealing his stone-like face and bright yellow eyes. He unsheathed his rapier Kimyamoto, but the figure in the woods had vanished.

Instead, an ear piercing howl echoed through the woods. A dozen wolves, surrounded the caravan, eyes bright red and full of hatred. But these were not normal wolves, they were 2-3 times the size of the biggest wolf Parem had ever seen. "Dread Wolves!" He shouted out load to the whole company. Parem shed his cloak revealing his true gargoyle form. He jumped down to the ground, wings spread out wide and made his way to the edge of the 2nd carriage.

Suddenly the driver of the 1st carriage screamed at the top of his lungs, then went silent. The bald mans head toppled off the roof of the 1st carriage and landed directly at Parems feet. His headless body collapsed, in its place was the alpha dread wolf. Fangs gleeming white preparing to pounce on the nearest guard...

The laughter stopped, and the sphinx closed his eyes, trying to hear what his friend was talking about. He expected to hear birds, owls, maybe even coyotes. Instead he heard nothing. Not even the wind. That in particular set him on edge. He was almost always followed by a breeze. This silence was unnatural. "Nothing but silence. Something isn't right." the cat hissed, a hand on his blade. Movement behind him drew his attention, the man who had been with the princess had drawn his sword.

It was then that the silence was broken. Howls. Why did it have to be howls? The cat drew his curved sword, which even in the dark shown white. Once the blade was unsheathed the wind returned, a turbulent gale that seemed to circle the dark furred feline.

Dread Wolves. Foul monsters to be sure. "Xanthus, hope you're good in a fight. Seems we are now to earn our wage!" the cat shouted. Somehow one of the wolves had gotten past them and beheaded the carriage driver. Damn things were fast. One of the foul creatures snarled, circling Ahjam, and the sphinx wasted no time swinging his blade and releasing powerful winds to repulse the creature.

"And here I was complaining about boredom. The gods seem to wish that I regret such a phrase." the cat smirked, deciding to wet his sword with blood. He charged one of the beasts, the wind carrying him forward as his sword sang it's battle cry, slicing the air with each movement. With the agility of his race Ahjam made to cut the beast from snout to tail.

Without further ado, Fate decided to reward Xanthus's perceptiveness with proof of the fact that he was not overreacting to the silence of the forest. A trap had been sprung. A massive tree crashed down onto the forest floor with the various loud sounds that accompany such an act, and as one of the forward guards, the demonkin had possessed a perfect view of the tree's fall. When the wolves began to howl, he was already prepared, his right hand moving faster than lightning for the hilt of Catharsis. When the dread wolves began to attack the caravan, Xanthus was already springing into action.

As a battlemage, Xanthus had a certain specialization. Whereas some chose flame magics, or lightning magics to specialize in, he had chosen to make his mark through the shadows of his birthright. Shadow magic was his domain, and the darkness held no secrets from him, not even secrets of power. Drawing Catharsis, Xanthus stepped through the darkness, disappearing and reappearing on the top of the first carriage. Unlike Winds of Fortune, Catharsis was a blade of deep purple, being reminiscent of a bastard sword with a slight curve. Holding it in one hand, Xanthus pointed the blade at the alpha dread wolf, the one that had killed the driver of the carriage.

"Your will is mine." He told the large, demonic-seeming creature. Having found Catharsis quite some time ago, Xanthus had spent much time experimenting with the blade's powers. One aspect that he found intriguing was the fact that it appeared to be heavily connected with the Spirit element, giving it quite a power over other creatures through their minds. Xanthus used this power now, attempting to dominate the mind of the pack alpha and command it to attack the other dread wolves around it.

Ahjam snarled, his animal side beginning to show. The cat was not pleased, and this whole thing reeked of ambush. A tree blocking their path just as a horde of dread wolves attacked. This was no coincidence. Ahjam was sure of it, after all, it was a basic yet effective strategy. Let the hounds soften them up, and then finish the stragglers. He would be impressed if he weren't so furious.

He took his blade in hand, knowing that with three wolves he couldn't attack one without opening himself up to the others. So, he spun the blade above his head, whipping up a maelstrom with himself in it's eye. The small tornado would spread, and hopefully toss the damned wolves about like sacks of flour.

Oh look, a gargoyle, the cat thought. He was wearing a familiar outfit, though he wasn't sure where he had seen it. He decided it might be a fellow mercenary, so he would not strike unless provoked. His thoughts were, however, interrupted when a voice on the wind carried a chill down his spine. Dark speak? What foul magics were about to rain down upon them? No longer caring if the wolves were swept up in his storm he dragged himself off the ground with the wind, launching himself into a nearby tree so he could have a better vantage point. Then he saw the eyes on the horizon. More wolves.

This caravan was barely scraping by with the wolves already on them. They needed a new strategy, and someone to take charge. Ahjam, of course, felt that he was best suited to the task. "More wolves approach!" he shouted. "Everyone, pair up! Stand at each other's backs so that the beasts can't flank you!" he roared. Though the situation was dire, the sphinx had a glint in his eye that showed how the rush of giving orders went straight to his head. Now, like a good leader, he must stand beside his men.

Now, obviously the others had no reason to follow him, but the sphinx didn't care. He felt like he was in charge, and it felt good. So he dived back down from the tree, attempting to land sword first on one of the damned creatures.

Vyssini had been wandering aimlessly through the winding forest, enjoying the evening while it lasted. Yet as she wandered further and further she noticed the silencing air, distant sounds of hooves and carriages reaching her ears with ease. She could feel something was wrong and began speeding her way through the forest. The loud cracking of a falling tree followed by distressed whinnies and ragged howls made her ears twitch at the sudden break of silence, the smell of the dread wolves filled her nose as she drew near but in an instant the intoxicating smell of blood engulfed her senses with hunger. Forest wildlife may have provided a decent amount of blood for her to feed upon but it couldn't compare to the smell of human blood.

With a salivated mouth Vyssini leaped into the trees, bounding from branch to branch with a ferocious hunger. It was when she landed high in a tree bordering the road which a caravan occupied did she stop herself with a tight grip. Her nails dug into the bark of her perch as she watched the occurrences below. She smell the blood she hungered for, she could mark her prey and strike from above, but something kept her from diving onto her awaiting feast.

Watching from above she observed a dark-furred sphinx slay a dread wolf with a curved blade, but just as she was beginning to plan her strike a dark voice whispered loudly in the air. It sent chills through her body, but she kept a diligent eye on the ensuing battle below. The dark magic brought forth more dread wolves and just when Vyssini thought those mangy beasts would steal her meal the sphinx showed an act of authority, calling out to the men in battle to take partners to ensure survival. Even the gargoyle followed the lead of the cat, confirming the order and saying something about a princess.

High-class blood has always been tastier than most, she mused to herself with a crooked smile, her hunger for blood swirling around yet she refused to fall into the fray while the ominous air hovered around. Something was going to happen and she didn't want any part of it, not now anyways, not with so many things occurring at once but as she continued to watch the twenty guards pair up against the horde of wolves she was afraid she'd have to get entangled in the happenings if she were to get her meal. If only she could fight without any of them identifying her as a threat to the 'princess' said to be within the caravan.

The eyes of the dread wolf changed suddenly from the red of hatred to a calm blue, being undeniably under the control of Catharsis. Through his sword, Xanthus knew that he could control this creature, but at the same time wondered how far his powers could extend. His experiments with the blade had yielded only few subjects at a time, though Catharsis had shown no signs of possessing a limit previously outside of Xanthus's own preconceived limitations. Just as Xanthus began to wonder to himself about what he could possibly do to help in the battle other than simply swinging his sword about like everyone else, he heard a fell voice on the wind. The words might have chilled the bones of most other men, but in Xanthus they had quite the opposite effect.

"In the name of darkness...I command the dark forces to unleash the spawn of Mammon and let the darkness grant them power. In shadow shall they gain victory for only in light can their dread fade..." The demonkin repeated in the common tongue quietly to himself, a primal feeling expanding inside his core. He recognized the feeling as the one that he felt whenever someone dared to invoke darkness to stand against him: fury. Closing his eyes for a moment, Xanthus gathered himself and spoke to the alpha dread wolf, dark eyes going void black as his demonic nature began to play itself out. "I don't understand the structure of Dread Wolves overmuch, but I do know that there is always an Alpha. If you are that Alpha, then you are commanded to gather your pack to yourself and wage war against the other Dread Wolves. If you are not, then you will slay whatever beast is and then wage war. If you cannot marshal your brethren, then kill all of the Dread Wovles."

Trusting that his command would be executed, Xanthus extended his spine and stood at his full imposing height. Catharsis was raised high into the air, pointed into the night sky. With a voice that carried on the wind and echoed through the trees, Xanthus responded to the Dark Speech with Dark Speech of his own. "You dare invoke the tongue of shadows in war against an heir of darkness? You dare to call on the darkness wherein only my line has true power?" Raising his left hand, Xanthus cut a line along the palm and allowed the blood to glide along Catharsis's edge. 'Catharsis, take an offering of my blood and mingle my magics with yours.' The scion of Kyros tapped into his own power over dark magics and invoked Catharsis's ability to raise the dead, pressing forward in the tongue of darkness. "Dead of the darkness, I bid you rise and face my enemies. Destroy the Dread Wolves one and all, aside from the one that bears blue eyes!"

Glowing a deeper purple than before, Catharsis seemingly absorbed Xanthus's blood, the dark liquid disappearing from the blade's edge. Finally, it seemed to hum a deeper pitch...the Spirit Sword had tasted the bloodline of darkness, and was ready to enact the dark art of Necromancy. Around the battlefield, dead guardsmen began to reach for their weapons and deceased Dread Wolves rose on their haunches before darting back into the woods, seeking their red-eyed brethren. 'Hmm...perhaps overly conspicuous, but it accomplishes my task.' Xanthus thought as he observed the battle from the top of the carriage, looking for a particular point that required his assistance.

The ground shook and the forest trembled. The Alpha Dreadwolf leaped to the ground and barked commands at the remaining eight dreadwolfs that had surrounded the guards. Without a moments hesitation the nine dreadwolves charged into the oncoming force of fifty. The voice in the wind seemed to hesitate at Xanthus retaliation in the dark language. The dozen or so dead guardsman took up arms and charged alongside the allied dreadwolves.

Parem stood guard at the left door of the carriage. The princess stared back at him in worry. "Stay down!" He shouted. His rapier kimyamoto at his side. More wolves attacked from all sides. Even with this surprising assistance of the sorcerer he doubted that they would survive this. All that mattered was the princess. That was his focus, if all else fails, she must live. He shouted in defiance at the dreadwolves that were only a few yards away now. The other mercenaries looked shaken. They were obviously not trained for this.

Suddenly the dark voice of the enemy started again. This time there were three separate individuals. As the night grew darker, Xanthus could barely make them out, stood in a clearing in the woods. On the top of a small hill covered with boulders. The three hooded figures chanted their spell louder, linking arms and pointing their shadowy hands directly at the caravan.

Ahjam jerked his blade from the monster's corpse, and splashed the blood from his sword onto the ground, a smirk on his face. He purred for a moment, enjoying the thrill of a kill, but then he remembered that the beasts were much greater in number then the men he was with. Savoring a kill might get him killed. The cat almost screamed when the wolf stood, dark magic within it, and raced off to face its fellows. The dark speech echoed through the forest again, and now the sphinx had to deal with the realization that his companion was also a user of dark magic. He would decide how he felt about that later, assuming they both survived.

The wolves were a problem. The dark speakers were simply directing them at the moment, and could be dealt with in a moment, should that prove necessary. "Winds of Fortune, be blowing in my favor." the sphinx muttered, channeling his magic into the blade. The wind whipped up around him, and the white blade released a low hum.

"I care not what threat or offers you mutter in your foul language." the sphinx roared. "You stand between me and my riches, and for that I will blow you away." his eyes took on the white hue of his sword, as arcane energies flowed between them. The astral twisted into a violent wind, focusing it's force on the swords edge. "I shall scatter you to the winds of the earth!" he swore, swinging his blade which cut through the air, releasing a focused slash of magically infused wind that flew towards the charging wolves. Ahjam hoped it would rend at least one, perhaps two. But he was prepared to release a flurry of these strikes against the beasts, and then their masters.