Tracks in the Desert (Lady Elven Archer)

OOC: Sorry it's kinda short, but it was about 3:45 AM when I wrote it, so.... hehe...

The desert air stung Eteje’s face as he trudged through the desert. He had only left home recently, but he was already starting to miss the shelter of the adobe houses. He wondered if the village missed him at the nightly fire in the center of the village. He even wondered if his parents missed him. Sighing, as the harsh wind continued to sting at his face, Eteje raised his face and hands to the sky, turned to face the South, and whispered quiet words of prayer.

“Lord Whiirh, let your winds carry the water from Lady Sllysha to the sky and in Your beautiful grace let them fall to refresh thy weary servant. I ask you that You let the West winds die down and in Your grace calm the turbulence of your wrath. Please, bestow upon the falcon that bears Your name in Your honor swift hunting and let Your winds carry him safely back to me. Be ever present Lord Whiirh.”

He turned again to the North, knelt low to the ground, let his forehead rest on the sand, and uttered another prayer, “Lord Garash, praise be to Your ever changing nature. Let Your wisdom in this manner guide me as I embark throughout the world, and let me always remember that my footsteps fall on Your sturdy and enduring foundation of strength. Be ever present Lord Garash.”

Finishing his prayers, he stood once again, and as he did, the wind died down, and the sharp sting that had plagued Eteje had left in favor of a gentle breeze. After a silent word of thanks to his God Eteje turned to the southeast, in the direction where his falcon friend had left to hunt. Whiirh had probably found enough prey to eat his full. He shot out a complex series of whistles, alternating high and low pitches. It was the call that he had taught the bird to respond to, and if he made that call, he could be sure that his falcon would return to him. He stood for a few minutes, watching for his friend to return to him.

Sighing, seeing that his feathered companion would be a while longer than he had thought, Eteje turned and began to walk again. He dragged his feet, letting the sand cover his boots and get into them slightly. A smile broke across his face, as he saw the adaptation embodied in Earth, and as quickly as he had lost hope, he was renewed and restored in his mission. He stopped in his tracks in the sand, and looked at the ground. Even though the sands had shifted, there had been a second set of tracks in them. He scanned the area, but seeing only a boulder in the distance he let the thought that there may be danger slip from his mind.

OoC: No problem at all. Shortness is never a bad thing as long as it’s of good quality. ^_^

IC:

Nearly two days. Two days out in this god-forsaken wasteland and still no sign of her quarry. The water in her canteen wasn’t going to last much longer. She was beginning to doubt that her most recent contractor—she couldn’t recall his name at the moment—was very handy with his directions.

“Out somewhere in the desert,” my foot. What garbage is that? Couldn’t he have at least had a map or something? I’m beginning to think the reward he was offering isn’t even going to be worth this.

Kicking a bit of the sand up in mildly restrained frustration, Len took a few deep breaths to calm herself once more and closed her eyes in contemplative thought. The heat wasn’t quite so bad if she simply did not focus on it. The lack of water, however, was another matter entirely. If she didn’t find either the person she was hired to kill or a source of water soon, she regrettably would be forced to abandoned her search and return to her contractor empty-handed. In other words, she would fail. And that was most certainly not a word in Len’s vocabulary.

She opened her eyes again to glance upward at the sun overhead. From its current position, she assessed that nightfall would come in about three hours. There were advantages and disadvantages to that. The temperature would drop, and she would have the cover of darkness to make her job easier if or when she did manage to locate her target. But it would also make it harder to discern any sets of tracks in the sand. Therefore, she resolved that she must pick up a trail before sunset.

By now, it felt as though she had been wandering in circles for ages. No recognizable landmarks helped guide travelers anywhere. It was all just a vast stretch of rolling sand. As she glanced quickly upward once more to check the sun’s position, Len just happened to catch sight of a bird wheeling in the sky. She narrowed her eyes and determined that it must be some sort of predatory bird. Suddenly, it took off in a direction, and deciding that she had nothing else up her sleeve, Len followed it until she saw a single boulder on the horizon. The assassin stopped behind it and peered cautiously around. The bird had descended somewhere just ahead, but it had not be the descent of a hunting bird.

I’m fairly certain Lord Whatever-his-name-was didn’t mention this guy having a pet bird. But…maybe he just picked it up while he was on the run.

In either case, she had gotten to the point where she just wanted to kill something. Anything. She noticed a set of tracks leading toward the bird’s landing place, so she crept cat-like out from behind the boulder and followed them. When she finally spotted the man in the distance, she unsheathed Stille and Hemel and began to move at a more rapid pace. Unfortunately for her, the bird was keeping a sharp watch on the surroundings and emitted a warning screech before she had any chance to land a fatal blow. Instead, Stille only managed to dig shallowly into the man’s upper arm, inflicting a minor wound, before Len was forced to leap backwards out of weapon range.

Curse that bird... I’ll have to do something about it eventually.

OOC:
I wish I could manage to use some of those one hundred fourty-two word sentences in here.

IC:
Eteje smiled as his friend descended to rest on his shoulder. The talons felt comfortable as they wrapped around his outstretched right arm, but Whiirh’s attention was diverted, almost focused on some distant prey. Eteje strokes the ruffled feathers on the bird’s back down, and pulled away after it seemed that Whiirh was uninterested in the affection.

“What is it old friend? Do you see something to eat?” As soon as the words had escaped his mouth, Whiirh let loose a screech at something behind him, and instantaneously a searing pain shot through his upper left arm. He bent a knee, throwing up his arm to send Whiirh skyward as he turned to see a woman dressed in black with violet red hair pulled back into a ponytail.

She smirked at him, apparently satisfied with the wound she had given him, but still longing for a kill. Her expression and face gave off the appearance of one of the rogues Eteje had faced, but he could her power through the Wind. She would use it against Whiirh before the day would be over. The sun was just on the horizon, casting the white sand into an orange glow. Eteje had no doubts, he was going to have to fight, but there were so many disadvantages at this hour. His clothing, though giving some camouflage in night was not designed to do such a thing, as her clothes were. The soft sand underneath him also would not allow him to use runic lore, another crushing blow to his strategies. It would be difficult, but he would have to forgo runes for the battle, at least until he could see away around his predicament.

“You have no honor in your Hunt.” Eteje stood and drew his broadswords from his scabbards; they rung with a clarion call as they shimmered in the fading sun, hailing the bravery of Fire. “May the Sacred Elements leave you, and may they never bless your Hunt.” He set himself into a defensive stance and took up his blades. “This Earth is not your place.”

The woman merely smirked. She pulled back her daggers and set into a flurry of quick blows, each setting a new scratch into his swords. As soon as this combat had begun, Whiirh had already set to the skies and was currently waiting above for his own chance to attack the strange foe. Eteje, in the meantime, was beginning to fall under the constant battering of his blades. He waited for his moment in between the strikes and then jumped back and drove forward in a slash with his right arm followed fluidly with a thrust by the left arm, the woman avoided both simply. Continuing the dance like motions he made an upward slash through the sand with his right and setting his left for a guard, still the woman avoided the blades and merely watched with a sickening smirk. Eteje fell back into his guard and circled the woman. It was Whiirh’s turn. He dove from a height of about 20 yards with his talons extended towards the woman. Eteje watched from the corner of his eye, giving the woman no hint to the impending attack from behind. Whiirh closed in to make the attack and at the last moment possible the woman turned, completely avoiding the attack. As the falcon took flight again the woman shot Eteje a devious smirk. He merely steeled himself in reply.

My word. My journey may be over before it begins.